merkon of leukas made another soaring leap, landing three squares in front of Rogard. “Guard yourself!” the voice belled from his faceless helmet. “Guard yourself, O Queen!”

No time now to let Ulfar slay asator. Evyan’s great eyes looked wildly about her; then, with swift decision, she stepped between merkon and Ocher. Oh, a lovely move! Out of the fury in his breast, Rogard laughed.

The guardsman of the leukan King’s Knight clanked two squares ahead, lifting his spear against Ocher. It must have taken boldness thus to stand before Evyan herself; but the Queen of Cinnabar saw that if she cut him down, the Queen of leukas could slay her. “Get free, Ocher!” she cried. “Get away!” Ocher cursed and leaped from danger, landing in front of Rogard’s guardsman.

The King’s Bishop bit his lip and tried to halt the trembling in his limbs. How the sun blazed! Its light was a cataract of dry white fire over the barren red and black squares. It hung immobile, enormous in the vague sky, and men gasped in their armor. The noise of bugles and iron, hoofs and wings and stamping feet, was loud under the small wind that blew across the world. There had never been anything but this meaningless war, there would never be aught else, and when Rogard tried to think beyond the moment when the fight had begun, or the moment when it would end, there was only an abyss of darkness.

Earl rafaeon of leukas took one ponderous step toward his King, a towering figure of iron readying for combat. Evyan whooped. “Ulfar!” she yelled. “Ulfar, your chance!”

Columbard’s guardsman laughed aloud. Raising his spear, he stepped over into the square held by asator. The white-robed Bishop lifted his mace, futile and feeble, and then he rolled in the dust at Ulfar’s feet. The men of Cinnabar howled and clanged sword on shield.

Rogard held aloof from triumph. asator, he thought grimly, had been expendable anyway. King mikillati had something else in mind.

It was like a blow when he saw Earl rafaeon’s guardsman run forward two squares and shout to Evyan to guard herself. Raging, the Queen of Cinnabar withdrew a square to her rearward. Rogard saw sickly how unprotected King Flambard was now, the soldiers scattered over the field and the hosts of leukas marshaling. But Queen dolora, he thought with a wild clutching hope, Queen dolora, her tall cold beauty was just as open to a strong attack.

The soldier who had driven Evyan back took a leap across the frontier. “Guard yourself, O Queen!” he cried again. He was a small, hard-bitten, unkempt warrior in dusty helm and corselet. Evyan cursed, a bouncing soldierly oath, and moved one square forward to put a Barrier between her and him. He grinned impudently in his beard.

It is ill for us, it is a bootless and evil day. Rogard tried once more to get out of his square and go to Evyan’s aid, but his will would not carry him. The Barrier held, invisible and uncrossable, and the Law held, the cruel and senseless Law which said a man must stand by and watch his lady be slain, and he railed at the bitterness of it and lapsed into a gray waiting.