Two days came and went with Vilmos spending the majority of his time on opposite sides of a playing board from Edward. Although the break was enjoyable, Vilmos was growing increasingly anxious for Xith's return as the third day ended.
The inn was an unusually empty place with Edward and Vilmos being the sole occupants. In the three days not a single visitor or traveler had arrived. Vilmos would often glance out the window when he heard a noise, hoping it was Xith. Usually it was just the wind rattling the shutters. Edward had noticed this and often told Vilmos not to worry, and that his friend would find him soon enough. Vilmos fretted nonetheless.
Vilmos and Edward were in the midst of yet another game of King's Mate. So far, Vilmos had lost three of his fools and his keeper. Edward had not lost a single piece. Vilmos did, however, have his king in the center raised square, which meant for a time he controlled the board.
Cleverly, Vilmos swung his second swordmaster onto an adjacent raised square; now it could not be taken. Edward thought long and hard for his next move and only after careful calculation did he move his priestess diagonally forward to endanger Vilmos' first swordmaster. Vilmos rotated the piece around to take one of Edward's fools, which left Vilmos in a sweet position to take either one of Edward's keepers or swordmasters the next turn. As Edward could not counter the move, he sought to gain by the loss. He moved his swordmaster into a vicarious position, hoping Vilmos would claim the keeper.
Vilmos studied the board prudently. The keeper was an easy piece to take, but the bold move was to take nothing and move his priest adjacent to Edward's king and swordmaster. Vilmos could not take the king while the swordmasters remained; he would wait until Edward tried to claim it. The piece was backed up by his own keeper, which in turn was further supported by the swordmaster, which could swing one space farther to the left if necessary. The latter play was tight and tricky but Vilmos attempted it.
Edward smiled at the move, which he considered amateurish, quickly devouring the boy's swordmaster with his priestess. A broad smirk was evident on his face, until in a series of quick and calculated maneuvers, Vilmos stripped four of Edward's pieces, the first priestess with which Edward had taken his swordmaster, the swordmaster which had been backed by the priestess, the keeper Edward could do nothing to protect, and lastly Edward's only remaining swordmaster. Now Edward's king was without protection.
Edward could do nothing to prevent Vilmos from taking the pieces, only sit back and watch with amazement. Wide eyes and a dropped mouth replaced the smile on his face. Edward couldn't maneuver his king out of the trap Vilmos had set; in another move it was check, and in one more, the game was over.
"Wow!" exclaimed Edward, "Where were you hiding those moves?"
Vilmos held the black king in his hand. The ebony from which it was carved was cold and though the piece itself was smooth, Vilmos felt as if the carved edges could slice into his fingers. "I just did as you said. I sacrificed the priest to gain the king."
"Vilmos," stated Edward, his face drawn and straight, "do you know in all the years I have been playing, that I have never been defeated. I have never lost until just now."
"You are the one who taught me, my friend," spoke Vilmos sounding wiser than his years. He held out the black king to Edward.
Edward took the king and started setting the rest of his pieces in their starting positions. "One more game and then we'll call it a night. Okay?"
Vilmos nodded agreement without hesitation and began setting his pieces in place.
Edward led with the first move. The game progressed from there with painstaking sluggishness.
Edward meticulously poured over every option with each movement of a piece, thinking several plays ahead. There was visible strain in the air around the quiet table as the hours passed.
Vilmos stretched out his arms and shifted frequently in his chair. His backside was getting very sore and numb from the long duration they had been sitting around the table. His weariness began to distract his attention away from the game, but he would not yield.
In the first hours of the game, not a piece had been taken or exchanged; the field was maintaining a careful balance of offensive and defensive postures. With movements in a seesaw motion back and forth, up and down the board, each probed the other's intentions.
Outside the windows of the inn, the gentle light of morning was forming on the horizon, though neither noticed. Nor did they take note of it when the darkness of night became void to the bright sunshine of a new day. The game continued, unabated.
Edward wiped a dew-like perspiration from his brow without taking his eyes from the board or moving his other hand, which rested on his king. Vilmos had forced him into a retreat. He cursed under his breath as he pulled his king from the center square.
Waiting for Vilmos to make his next move, Edward closely watched the board, estimating which pieces Vilmos would move where and how he could counter. When Vilmos made the move Edward had surmised he would, another offensive push toward center, Edward was ready for the counter, but before yielding he checked the alternatives.
A smile formed on Vilmos' lips when he saw the move. Suddenly weariness and fatigue were replaced by a sense of elation, which he hoped was not false hope. Vilmos set in with a precise attack that he had been saving to throw at Edward.
The intensity of the game heated up as Vilmos claimed his stake on Edward's pieces. Vilmos pulled piece after precious piece from the board with Edward claiming one occasionally. Clearly on the run, Edward pulled his pieces back to defensive positions to prevent the capture of his king.
The wind outside picked up, though neither noticed; their attention was lost to the board, each carefully deducing the next move, the next counter. Vilmos was ready to make a claim for victory; soon he would push Edward into a corner he could not escape from. He grinned again and then purposefully stalled as he sipped from a near empty glass.
Slowly, he brought his hand to the board, perhaps toying with the expectant expression on Edward's face. He would move the white priestess diagonally up the board to put the black king in check once more. Vilmos eyed the dark king outfitted in a long ruffled cloak, holding a scepter in its left hand and the odd singlet crown upon its head, as he slowly brought the priestess across the board. He was lifting his fingers from the board and Edward was contemplating his next move when the wind outside surged and in a sudden sweeping crash, the windows of the inn were dashed to pieces.
Tattered shards still clattered to the floor as a voice rang out, a savage, eerie voice that slurred the words together into a fervent snarl. "Remain seated, or you'll both die!"
With a troubled expression on his face, Edward looked up from the board, perhaps angry at the disturbance. "Can you not see, we are in the middle of a game?" shouted Edward.
Three hair-covered beasts stood inside the inn, one at the door, the speaker, with a henchman to either side of him. Edward glared at the speaker, which he assumed was the leader. Each was heavily armored in the typical banded mail of their kind, with weapons at the ready.
Edward knew their kind well. He had seen them many times before, though he had never been a victim of their assault. They were the paid hunters of Under-Earth; the half-animal, half-human race disgusted him. He watched the leader for an instant, watching it closely, saliva dripped from its two upturned canine fangs as it licked its hair-covered face.
"What is it you seek?" asked Edward diplomatically as he stood, trying both to gain time to think and to place the oddly familiar voice.
"We wish no harm. We seek out the boy. Give him to us," hissed the beast through its hound-like mouth, saliva, dripping with each word, slapped the floor with a splash in a small pool readily forming at the beast's feet.
Edward hesitated a moment, carefully edging toward the group as he spoke, placing himself between them and Vilmos. "As I stated, you are disturbing our game. I have nothing against the Hunter Clan, nor does my companion." He stalled for more time.
Vilmos' thoughts spun, the Hunter Clan.
"Just do as ordered!" shouted the beast leader as he pointed his double-edged blade towards Edward.
"Can we not discuss this? I am sure we can come to an agreeable solution," said Edward, as he gripped the chair beside him tightly with his right hand, eyeing closely the two crossbows directed toward him. "Surely, you can lower your weapons. A mere boy and a fat troant can't hurt you…"
"Enough words, you die!" screamed the beast. "Kill!" he told his accomplices.
Edward belted the closest beast to him with the chair, knocking it to the ground; its arrow triggered, flew harmlessly into the ceiling. The other beast shot Edward cleanly in the leg with its crossbow bolt.
"Run, Vilmos run!" Edward shouted as he toppled the table over on its side.
Reacting to Edward's advice, Vilmos started toward the stairs. Luckily he shifted his gait slightly to the right and a quiver whizzed harmlessly by his head. Safely to the stairs, Vilmos stopped and peered over the rail at Edward. Only then did he consider the repercussions of his actions. How could he just leave Edward standing there? He had to do something to help, but what?
"Freeze!" shouted the beast, "Do not move further!"
"Run, Vilmos! Don't look back, go find the shaman!" shouted Edward.
Vilmos heard the desperation in Edward's voice; still he did not want to go, but he was scared, so he ran.
Edward launched toward the attackers. He had only taken one step forward toward the door when a bolt pierced his chest. The pain was immediate and excruciating, but Edward only winced slightly. He had been in worse places before and survived. He had given the shaman his sacred word he would watch over and protect Vilmos until he returned. Determination carried him another step.
"Up!" shouted the beast leader, as he dispensed his sword at the henchman sprawled out on the floor. The beast immediately scrambled to its feet and picked up its weapon. The second beast licked its furry mouth and reloaded its crossbow with another bolt. "You're finished. Quit while ahead and life in your veins," snarled the leader.
The pain was great, but it did not stop Edward. He shook a defiant fist at the attackers and took another step. His wounded leg was slow to respond to his wishes, as the first volley had cleanly pierced his leg at the knee, so rather than a step, it was an awkward limp.
He reached out and snapped a leg off one of the chairs that were littered around the inside of the inn. He bore it disobediently before him as a club and moved closer.
Two more quivers pierced Edward's body as he took another step. He slumped harshly and suddenly to the floor, his eyes wandered to the stairs that Vilmos had just topped. As he watched the boy disappear down the hall, life drained from his limbs. Then Edward died.