Read Online The Sin Eater by Sarah Rayne - Free Book Online Page A

Colm captured his bishop, Sheehan shrugged and said, ‘A weak piece. Of little account. In Persian tradition, the piece was originally an elephant. Later, the Europeans called it
Aufin
.
Aufin
is related to a French word for fool. It’s curious how language merges one with another, isn’t it, and produces totally different words and meanings? But in that case the transformation was appropriate, for most bishops I ever met were fools anyway.’
    Colm said, ‘Chess is a Persian game, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Who knows? Some tell how the God Euphron created it, or that it began as a dice-playing game at the Siege of Troy. But most legends place its origins in India, although it was supposed to be part of the princely education of Persian nobility.’
    â€˜You’re very knowledgeable,’ said Colm, with reluctant admiration.
    â€˜I learned a little – a very little – from the man who owned this set before me. He possessed far more knowledge than I ever will,’ said Sheehan.
    When Sheehan’s King was placed in jeopardy, Colm gave a soft hoot of triumph, and Sheehan said, ‘Yes, that’s a telling move. But you should not feel too pleased with yourself. The King is the most important piece, but it’s the Queen who is the most powerful.’
    But as the black pieces were taken with measured inexorability, Colm and Declan had the impression that Sheehan no longer cared if he won or lost. Whether he was suddenly tired of the old legend and wanted to put an end to it, they had no idea, but at length the black Queen was cornered. As Colm reached out to lift the ebony figure from the board, the tiny jewelled eyes in the carved head caught the light and seemed to glint evilly. Colm hesitated. Then he shrugged and his fingers closed round the figure.
    Sheehan and Colm looked at one another for a long moment. Then Sheehan said, ‘Congratulations, Colm. A game well played. I imagine you’re about to demand I keep our bargain.’
    â€˜I am.’
    â€˜Leave Kilglenn? Leave this tower?’
    â€˜That was the agreement.’
    â€˜A gentleman’s agreement only. And,’ said Sheehan, ‘it’s a long while since I was regarded as a gentleman.’
    Colm said, ‘You’re reneging on the deal?’
    â€˜An ugly word.’
    â€˜Well?’
    â€˜I’m not leaving this place,’ said Sheehan. ‘I can’t.’
    As the words fell on the old room, something seemed to enter it – something that was not part of the ocean or the greasy lamplight, but that hissed its way through the black bars of the tiny window and scalded its way round the old walls.
    â€˜Then by God, I’ll make you!’
    â€˜Colm, no!’ Declan started forward, but Colm was already on his feet, his fists clenched, and Declan had the astonishing impression that the hissing anger had poured into Colm and glared from his eyes.
    Sheehan threw up a hand to defend himself, backing away. In doing so, he stumbled against the chess table and fell. His head hit the stone floor with a sickening crunch and his neck lolled at a dreadful angle. There was a gasping exhalation of breath, then his eyes rolled upwards and he was still.
    The scalding anger drained from the room as quickly as it had come, and Colm stood staring down at the prone figure, white-faced, his eyes no longer holding the terrible glare.
    â€˜He’s dead,’ said Declan in panic. ‘Mother of God, he’s dead and it’s your fault, you bloody madman.’
    â€˜He’s shamming,’ said Colm, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice. ‘Feel for a heartbeat – it’ll be pounding away like a tinker’s drum. Well?’ he said, as Declan knelt down and thrust a hand inside Nicholas Sheehan’s jacket.
    â€˜Nothing. Wait though – a mirror.’
    â€˜What in God’s name . . . ?’
    â€˜You put a mirror to somebody’s lips