Harry Potter: Master of Talismans

Ron looked from Hermione to the empty places on the board. He told her to stay beyond its edge, where someone would be able to help if we were hurt. She disliked the answer, particularly its last part, and tried moving towards an occupied square. The nearest pawn followed her with its sword until she stepped back.

‘I can stay out,’ Harry offered. Ron shook his head and pointed him towards the bishop’s position.

‘You’re quicker if something goes wrong. Oswald, take the rook. I’ll be the knight.’ He went to the waiting horse before either of us could suggest a better arrangement. I knew enough chess to recognise a bad position once it had been explained; Ron could recognise one before we arrived in it. That seemed a sound reason to follow his instructions.

I stepped onto the rook’s empty square. The stone figures turned towards us as Ron hauled himself into a saddle much too large for him. He shifted until he could sit squarely and gripped the carved mane. Harry asked what would happen if one of us was taken, drawing Ron’s eyes to the white queen’s sword.

‘Let’s make sure we aren’t,’ he said. The first white pawn advanced two squares before anybody found that answer reassuring. We all jumped, then waited while Ron studied the position and ordered one of our pawns forwards.

The reply came almost immediately. Stone struck stone, and a white pawn dragged the broken remains of ours aside to occupy its square. Hermione put a hand over her mouth at the edge of the board. I watched the smashed head roll across the floor and said Ron’s name, unable to finish the question attached to it.

‘I saw,’ he replied. His eyes moved between the pieces, pausing at the three positions occupied by living people. There was no clock forcing him to hurry, and I was grateful for every second he used before ordering the next move.

At first I tried to follow his plan. He appeared to be opening space for Harry while keeping the strongest white pieces away from us. Then a knight moved where I had expected a bishop, and I lost the sequence. When Ron told the rook to move across, I waited for the figure beside me to obey until he added my name.

I walked to the square he indicated. It was difficult not to hurry past the white bishop, whose expressionless face sat above a blade that needed no expression at all. A pawn scraped forwards behind me. I stopped in the centre of my square and kept my hands still while Ron considered the answer.

We gained ground, then lost it. Ron surrendered a bishop and spent long enough on his following move that sweat began running down his face. I offered to be used if he needed another piece, and he answered that he was already using me. When I tried to explain what I meant, he said he understood and ordered a pawn towards the queen instead.

She destroyed it with one blow. Harry flinched across the board, now far enough away that speaking to him meant raising my voice through half the room. I disliked the distance almost as much as the swords. If something went wrong on his square, I would have to cross several others to reach him.

Another exchange cost us the other rook. Its head struck the floor near Hermione’s shoes, making her retreat before she forced herself to stop. Ron barely looked at the wreckage. He was staring at Harry with the concentration I recognised from the common-room chessboard, just before he became certain of a finishing move. This time there was no beginning of a smile.

‘Harry, listen carefully,’ he said. He pointed beyond the white king. ‘After my move, she’ll take me. Then you go there. Oswald stays where he is and covers the way out. You’ll have mate.’

Hermione said no from the edge of the board. Ron kept looking at Harry, as though turning towards her might make it harder to finish the explanation. I studied the pieces between us and asked whether there was another move.

‘Find one,’ Ron said. He waited, giving me time to look rather than dismissing the question. I could suggest a way to keep him safe for another turn. I could not see how it would get the rest of us through, and the silence became my answer.

He nudged the stone horse with his heel. It carried him forwards while he held the mane with both hands. His voice was thin but clear when he announced check. The white queen turned and began moving towards him.