Sanctuary Page 12

  *****

  Dinner was a quieter affair this evening. Benji sat between Tyler and Uncle Matt facing Aunt Rachel. She asked him about his day and, but he was reluctant to talk, embarrassed over his afternoon imaginings. As conversation sprang up around him, he noticed that Sarah and Tyler were also hesitating to jump in. Grandpa may have said they were wanted and welcome, but they had yet to truly feel comfortable.

  Aunt Rachel smiled at Benji from across the table and asked about his day. Benji gave her a typical vague answer. The unfamiliar chaos left him tense and ill at ease.

  Luckily, the food was good and Benji could concentrate on that. There was soup, broccoli, carrots, and spicy tenders laid around the long table. Benji used mouthfuls of warm food to keep from talking too much, although he couldn’t avoid it completely. He mumbled something about the big chessboard, which he instantly regretted when Grandpa butted. He offered to teach him the rules of chess if he wanted, but Benji declined.

  “It doesn’t seem like that much fun,” Benji said.

  “True enough, I suppose,” Grandpa conceded. “The game takes patience and forward thinking. It’s an ancient exercise in strategy more the anything else. Most people take it quite seriously.”

  “Including you,” Aunt Rachel interjected with a chuckle.

  Grandpa laughed in agreement. “The rules limit your moves and maneuvers,” Grandpa went on with his explanation, though no one had asked him to. Apparently, the man liked chess. “The goal is not to defeat your opponent necessarily, but to confine him, trap him. That’s checkmate.”

  “Why not destroy him, if he’s your enemy?” Benji wondered aloud.

  Grandpa chewed a bite of chicken thoughtfully before answering. “To destroy him might bring temporary satisfaction,” Grandpa said. “But soon another would rise up against you and you’d just have to deal with him too, starting the game all over again. If you leave your opponent with no options and have studied him carefully before reaching that point, then you can get concessions from him, make an example of him or give him horrible punishment.”

  “Concessions?” Benji asked, wrinkling his forehead at the unfamiliar word.

  “Land, money, titles. In older times enemies were publicly humiliated or kept around for a false sense of leadership. Lands could be ruled by puppet kings with an emperor holding the strings and collecting the profits.”

  “That sounds pretty brutal,” Benji said, intrigued.

  “Sometimes death and destruction is actually the least effective conclusion, rather than the most.”

  “Dad,” Aunt Rachel said with a look at Benji, “don’t scare the boy! You’ll give him nightmares about marauding chess pieces!”

  Grandpa just chuckled and changed the subject.