Even as I surveyed the site before me, the futility of the situation was evident. The battle had barely begun, the whole field chaotic with stratagems lurking within the murky mess. I watched, contemplating my side’s losses and the enemy’s casualties.

            My two aides were still present at my side, holy religious men of wisdom. Turning from the loud sounds of devastation and the sights of carnage, I spied them approaching from afar. Bearing long blades that drew blood, they had no doubts about removing threats to their nobles and leaders.

            Smirking silently, I glanced back at the struggling aristocrats opposite me, on the twin of the hill I claimed. Besieged by my loyal soldiers, the king was cutting down my swarming troops. Beside him, his queen, a stiletto in hand, pierced and stabbed. I let my amusement show as they slowly broke out of the trap I had laid earlier, even before our soldiers had even engaged each other.

             “My queen, I beg your leave.”

            I nodded regally, anticipating their reports. Their reports confirmed what I had already guessed. I smiled back at my counterpart, obvious glee showing.

            I should have known that she would have planned this. The whole stage had been rigged from the beginning. I glanced out over my troops and sorrow clutched my heart as the numbers dwindled even as I watched.

            My husband and I had sent out the call for charge, confident that we would win. Our advisors, bishops from the churches, came together and from our collaboration, a brilliant strategy formed. Our troops came in lines, should one fall, another shall strike the foe. A ‘pawn chain’ we called it.

            It worked, but only in the fore. A knight leapt over our defences, crushing footmen beneath his mount’s iron-shod hooves. Our own knights, preoccupied with the oncoming storm of soldiers, were unable to help as our king, my husband, was threatened.

            One bishop, true to the end, was taken down in our sovereign’s defence. I slew the assaulter with hard effort but in our distraction, the whole forefront had fallen. Our sole remaining aide took it upon himself to assassinate the most deadly threat, the queen. Even as he snuck towards her, I saw with great fear, a most evil smile slid across her visage. I could only watch when she stabbed the holy man, our bishop, in the stomach even as his blade hung above her.

            Then came the great wave of men and horse. Our defences had been breached and now, it was a fight, not to win, but to survive. And survive we did. I trust and dodged, letting my flashing blade dance through the bodies of my foes, protecting my king and loved one. His great broadsword claimed as many as my slim dagger and together, we overcame the odds.

            The lull came and I woke from a reverie I had not known I had fallen into. The foes were few and far away. My hands burst into aches that I had not felt since the days of my training. Breath came in pauses and pants. I glanced up and I saw her, still pristine and untouched, grinning with ever increasing venom.

            As if the gaze triggered the trap, the troops rushed towards us, trapping us within a ring. Again our blades began their work and again we were forced back to back, covering up each other’s weaknesses and openings, trying to pry open a hole within the shrinking siege.

            I glanced at her and her glee came back, taunting and mocking. Rage filled my breast and my blows came in ever increasing flurries, my enemies becoming images of her cruel smile. Then my blade snapped under the heavy usage and I heard with a dropping heart the crack of metal, metal separating from metal. My king, my sovereign and I, both, were helpless, our weapons broken and useless. Then the moment came, the moment I had known would come, the moment that I had been fighting so hard to prevent.

            “Checkmate.”