Pawn's Gambit
Page 33
As those of you who have finished the book proper have probably already guessed, my father was the person who first introduced me to the game of chess. There are more than subtle parallels between Steven’s childhood obsession with the game of kings and my own experiences growing up. Rather than the high end wood and marble set that young Steven and his father played on, however, ours was a well-used set of Anri Renaissance Chessmen as crafted by E.S. Lowe. The individual pieces of this particular set stood about three to four inches high and though made of plastic were fashioned to resemble marbled ivory and ebony. I can still visualize the pawns with their rounded helmets and triangular shields, the coned roofs and rocky foundations of the rooks, the rearing horses of the knights, the flowing robes and Prince Valiant haircuts of the bishops, the Queen’s simple gown, and the King’s stern expression as he stared at me from across the chessboard, tempting me and my little army of sixteen to cross the Rubicon and see if we could take him alive.
Growing up, I often wondered what it would be like if the chessmen came to life and walked among us, and no, Mel Brooks’ live action chess match from History of the World: Part I doesn’t count. (Though I can’t deny that it’s still good to be the King.) To that end, the comic-book-crazed kid I once was created a character known as Chessmaster. This swashbuckling superhero carried around a bag of mystical chess pieces that he could animate and control at will. With an army of thirty-two at his beck and call, he was a force to be reckoned with. His little “bag of tricks” grew up to be the pouch that Steven carries on his hip and is probably the oldest piece of story that made it into the book you now hold in your hands.
Over the years and through almost countless incarnations and reimaginings, a story began to develop in my mind that looked a lot more like the events chronicled in these pages: the eternal Struggle, the collecting of the Pieces, the eventuality of a Game that would decide the fate of millions. As originally imagined, the order of indoctrination was totally different, and truth be told, I can’t tell you how many different genders, races, orientations, backgrounds, relationships, etc. the various Pieces have been through. Emilio was originally a black kid from New York and—I’m a bit embarrassed to say—a member of a motorcycle gang known as the “Harlem Knights.” Niklaus used to be much less European/cosmopolitan. In fact, my White Rook was originally a hulking construction worker with a name like Bob or John who worked for “Castle Construction” or some such. Lena was originally named Audrey, and though that name ended up belonging to another character, our spunky, mace-wielding maiden from the wrong side of Baltimore made it through otherwise pretty much intact. Audrey herself, on the other hand, wasn’t even imagined until just a few pages before we first met the girl with auburn hair and hazel eyes. Each and every character in this book has come a long way, usually from very humble beginnings.
Don’t even get me started on Steven.
I read in Stephen King’s On Writing that he usually feels that his stories are “found” rather than created, that the character’s stories are already in existence and he is merely the chronicler. I never truly understood or even fully believed him, that is until I sat down and started writing myself. I have honestly been surprised on more than one occasion at some of the turns this book has taken and some of the choices my characters have made and hope to continue to be astounded as work on the second volume continues in earnest.
So, many of you may be wondering what’s next for Steven and his friends. Believe it or not, the entire story, beginning to end, was supposed to be contained in a single book, a tome I planned to call The Pawn Stratagem. As I got further and further into the writing process, however, it became evident that the book was heading for serious doorstopper length and, therefore, what was once a single book became three. The second volume, tentatively called Four Corners, is well underway. Once that one is done, I eagerly await the opportunity to bring this story full circle in the third and final volume, Endgame.
And now for a few acknowledgements.
To John, Jay, and Jaym at Falstaff Books, thanks for taking a chance on this book. I’m so excited that it finally has a home and can’t wait to complete the series and share it with you and the world.
To Roy Mauritsen, I knew the first time I saw your awesome Chess Pieces artwork display at DragonCon all those years ago that you would be the only person I’d let do the artwork for this one. I certainly hope people judge this book by its cover.
To Sharon and Melissa, thanks to you both for awesome editing and proofreading. Readers can now walk the trail between these covers without tripping over random commas.
To Susan, big thanks for the awesome layout. You make this look good.
To the staff of the Barnes and Noble in Columbus, Georgia where much of the second half of this novel was written and all of it revised, thank you for your patience and for your ever present smiles, not to mention the endless supply of coffee.
To the fine people who made up Charlie Company, 426th Forward Support Battalion during our shared year in Iraq, thank you for your service, for all your hard work, for your daily sacrifices, for your friendship, and for making an untenable situation somehow bearable. I will never forget any of you.
To Lisa Postell, my first reader, thank you for the constant words of encouragement as I worked to get this book off the ground.
To Alis, Kevin, Kellie, Mary, Mark, Teresa, Dwight, Michi, Charlotte Writers, and the rest of my early readers, thank you for your excitement and enthusiasm over my little project and for helping me polish a good story into a great one.
To Mrs. Robbins, my ninth grade English teacher, thank you for all your encouragement and for giving me an A on my little Tolkien/Brooks rip-off/short story/novella when it probably deserved a C at best. I promise this one is better.
To Dad, thanks for being such an inspiration – there’s a lot of you in these pages, and more to come.
Lastly, to Mom, thank you for four and a half decades of unwavering support and for never once thinking your son was crazy for wanting to write down all the insanity that bounces around in his head and actually trying to get other people to read it.
About the Author
Darin Kennedy, born and raised in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, is a graduate of Wake Forest University and Bowman Gray School of Medicine. After completing family medicine residency in the mountains of Virginia, he served eight years as a United States Army physician and wrote his first novel in the sands of northern Iraq, a novel you now hold in your hand. He is currently hard at work completing this trilogy for your reading enjoyment.
His Fugue and Fable trilogy, also available from Falstaff Books, was born from a fusion of two of his lifelong loves: classical music and world mythology. The Mussorgsky Riddle, The
Stravinsky Intrigue, and The Tchaikovsky Finale, are the beginning, middle, and end of the closest he will likely ever come to writing his own symphony. His short stories can be found in numerous anthologies and magazines, and the best, particularly those about a certain Necromancer for Hire, are collected for your reading pleasure under Darin’s imprint, 64Square Publishing.
Doctor by day and novelist by night, he writes and practices medicine in Charlotte, NC. When not engaged in either of the above activities, he has been known to strum the guitar, enjoy a bite of sushi, and, rumor has it, he even sleeps on occasion.
Find him online at darinkennedy.com.
Also by Darin Kennedy
Fugue & Fable
The Mussorgsky Riddle
The Stravinsky Intrigue
The Tchaikovsky Finale
The Pawn Stratagem
Pawn’s Gambit
Queen’s Peril
King’s Crisis (forthcoming)
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Copyright © 2016 by Darin Kennedy
Cover Artwork & Design - Roy Mauritsen
Author jacket photo by Michael Church Photography
www.roymauritsen.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.