His smile grew. "Aye, the queen is the most powerful, there's nae denyin' it. But I asked about the mostimportant." With that, he reached out and tapped his finger against his as yetuntouched rook in the corner of the board. "This technique started centuries ago as the king's leap, but over time it's developed intae this move, kent as castlin'."
He moved his king two spaces to the side and brought the rook around to the king's other side. Neala watched with wide eyes as her victory was snatched away. She could still win the game, but her smooth path had been removed.
"The most important piece for me is the rook because it's the one that can act on the king's behalf," Ansel explained. "And rather than attackin' or huntin' right away, it waits tae make its move until the time is right."
A little panicked by the sudden change in the flow of the game, Neala moved another piece. "Ye dinnae strike me as the type opposed tae force," she said, hoping to get him talking at least about what had happened to O'Sullivan.
He made his own move. "I'm nae. But I ken when tae act, and when tae wait. And I dinnae make moves without thinkin'."
Neala frowned at the tone of his voice and looked back at the board. Her eyes widened as she saw her mistake. "Ye've trapped me," she realized. "It doesnae matter what move I make next. Ye tricked me intae panickin', and I've moved right tae where ye needed me tae me. I've lost."
Ansel gave a little bow. "Even in defeat, ye're incredibly perceptive," he mused. "Come now. Help me move the pieces back tae where they were. I have it written down somewhere…"
Before he could move, though, Neala quickly reached out and returned the pieces to exactly where they had been when she had entered the room. As she moved the last piece from under his hand, their fingers brushed, sending a strange tingle through her. She met his eyes again, her throat dry, feeling as though she had just discovered something much more sinister than a new technique at chess.
"And ye even remember all that," Ansel said, shaking his head. "Remarkable. Let's hope the rebels are nae half as perceptive as ye are."
Something about the way he said it made Neala's blood run cold. "What do ye mean?" she asked, seizing at the chance for the information she'd so desperately sought. "I thought the king was goin' tae hunt down the rebels. Tae attack them full on."
Ansel let out a laugh, but there was no mirth to it. It was cold and joyless, and his fingers rested once more on the rook, now returned to the corner of the board. Neala felt her veins freeze over as her eyes traveled from the rook to the queen and finally to the king.
"I told ye. The most important pieces dinnae need tae hunt, Abby," Ansel told her. "They set traps. And they wait."
10
Night had fallen hours before, but Breana refused to admit her weariness at first. It was only after Eoin drew his horse to a stop and in turn refused to follow her any further that she reluctantly slowed down.
"We have tae keep goin'," she insisted, exasperated. "I slept all night last night, and in a bed besides. Ye cannae possibly still be worried about me. I'm nae all that delicate."
Eoin slipped down off his horse and led the creature toward the small pond in the middle of the small hill-circled valley where they had stopped. Breana scowled and, after a moment, got down and followed. They allowed the horses to drink, neither of them speaking. Breana supposed she was glad that Eoin hadn't pointed out that there wasplentystill to worry about, because she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. She wasn't even ready to think about what she had learned the night before, nor the night of sorrow that had followed.
"We make camp," he told her in a tone that brokered no argument. It was unlike him; he very rarely insisted on anything from her. "If ye willnae do it for yourself, then ye'll do it for me.Iscarcely got any sleep last night, after all."
Breana frowned slightly, knowing he had her beaten here. She didn't believe that concern for himself was the main reason that Eoin was insisting on making camp for the night, but she also knew thatheknew that she wouldn't allow him to struggle. She looked around them at the small, protected field in the middle of the valley and had to admit that, even though they weren't deep in a forest as she'd prefer, this was as safe a place as any to sleep for the night. It was far from where anyone might wander across them by mistake, and the surrounding small trees and hills sheltered them enough from the wind that they wouldn't freeze.
Grumbling to herself, she unloaded the bed rolls from the packs the horses carried, laying them out across the flat ground. She secured the horses as Eoin approached the small, spaced out trees to see what wood he could gather, and he returned soon after with enough fallen branches and leaves to start a passable campfire.
"Hungry?" he asked with a grin.
They sat together cooking some of their supplies over a small flame, and as the stars shone in the sky above them, and they ate the slightly burned food together, Breana felt her irritation with everything fade. There was something about the openness and honesty that constantly adorned Eoin's face, something about the earnestness in his voice and the gentle way that he expressed himself, that made it almost impossible to feel anything but calm in his presence.
"—and then I fell off the horseagain," Eoin concluded his story, and both of them burst into laughter. "She never even looked me way after that! Me father was so ashamed he didnae speak tae me for a week, and the lassie's father removed all ideas of potential courtship from the table for good."
"Have ye always been so charmin' around women?" Breana asked, still giggling. Eoin in the story had only been aroundfourteen or so, but she could picture him now, awkwardly trying to woo a young woman to please his father's expectations and tripping over himself. "Or is it only when it'll get ye intae trouble?"
Eoin grinned, winking at her. "Och, I'm plenty good at gettin' meself intae trouble for a bonny face. Surely ye've noticed."
There was a pause as they both realized what he had just said, and Breana saw it even in the firelight when his face reddened a little and he looked away. She felt her own skin flush, and she wondered if she dared to interpret his words the way she hoped.
Immediately after that, she felt ridiculous. How could she even be thinking about such things as this right now? She had to focus on her mission and keep going. She had to get back home victorious so that she could tell Maeve what had happened. She had to… She had to…
"I have tae train," she said abruptly.
Eoin looked at her again, seeming a little confused for just a moment. "Oh. Oh, I thought ye might want tae rest."
She braced herself for a scolding, but was surprised and gratified when he shook his head and smiled instead, the gentleness in that smile visible even just by the light of the campfire and the stars.
"Good. It's probably good tae practice in low light. Yer aim is gettin' better, so it's time tae get tae the next step." He stood and moved to their packs, then returned with her bow and quiver in his hands, holding it out to her. "Let's see what ye can do."
