The Eight - Trois

(Page 169) The Chess Master’s Tale (As recited by Philidor) At the age of nineteen, I left France and journeyed to Holland to accompany upon the hautebois, or oboe, a young pianist, a girl who, as a child prodigy, was to perform there. Unfortunately I arrived to discover the child had died a few days earlier of smallpox. I was stranded in a foreign country with no money and now no hope of an income. To support myself, I went to the coffee houses and played chess. From the age of fourteen, I’d studied chess under the tutelage of the famous Sire de Legal, France’s best player and perhaps the finest in Europe. By eighteen I could beat him with the handicap of a Knight. As a result, as I soon discovered, I could better every player I encountered. In The Hague, during the Battle of Fontenoy, I played against the Price of Waldeck as the battle raged around us. I traveled through England, playing at Slaughter’s Coffee House in London against the best players they had to offer, including Sir Abraham Janssen and Philip Stamma, beating them all. Stamma, a Syrian possibly of Moorish ancestry, had published several books on chess. He showed these to me, as well as books written by La Bourdonnais and Marechal Saxe. Stamma thought that I, with my unique powers of play, should write a book as well. My book, published several years later, was entitled Analyse du Jeu des Eschecs. In it I proposed the theory "The pawns are the soul of chess." In effect, I showed that the pawns were not only objects to be sacrificed, but could be used strategically and positionally against the opposing player. This book created a revolution in chess.

The Eight - Deux

(page 168) "Montglane, did you say?" said Philidor, lowering his voice as they reached the club entry. "My dear David, as a chess player, I can assure you I know a good deal of the history of Montglane Abbey. Don’t you know the story?" "Yes, yes," said David, trying to control his irritation. "All a lot of mystical poppycock. The Montglane Service does not exist, and I’m surprised you should give credence to such a thing." "Give credence?" Philidor took David’s arm as they stepped out onto the blazing hot pavement. "My friend, I know it exists. And a great deal more. Well over forty years ago, perhaps before you were even born, I was a visitor at the court of Frederick the Great in Prussia. Whilst there, I made the acquaintance of two great men of such powers of perception as I shall never forget. One, you will have heard of – the great mathematician, Leonhard Euler. The other, as great in his own way, was the aged father of Frederick’s young court musician. But this musty old genius has been fated, I’m afraid, to a legacy buried in dust. Though no one in Europe has heard of him since, his music, which he performed for us one evening at the king’s request, was the finest I’ve heard in all my years. His name was Johann Sebastian Bach." "I’ve not heard the name," David admitted, "but what do Euler and this musician have to do with the legendary chess service?" "I shall tell you," Philidor said, smiling, "only if you agree to introduce me to these wards of yours. Perhaps we’ll get to the bottom of the mystery I’ve spent a lifetime trying to unravel!" (Page 169) David agreed, and the great chess master accompanied him on foot through the deceptively quiet streets along the Seine and across the Pont Royal toward his studio. The air was still; no leaf stirred on any tree. Heat rose in waves from the baking pavement, and even the leaden waters of the Seine coursed silently beside them as they walked. They could not know that twenty blocks away, in the heart of the Cordeliers, a bloodthirsty mob was battering down the doors of l’Abbaye Prison. And Valentine was inside. In the still, warm silence of that late afternoon, as the two men walked together, Philidor began his tale… Here's the first excerpt from The Eight, by Katherine Neville. Once you read this novel, you will know forever the connection between the game of chess and the Goddess...