By Pamela Love
“Our treasury’s woes are over.” King Norbert sauntered into the imperial guest suite. “I just beat the emperor at chess.”
Queen Constance looked up from her official ledger. “Emperor Ulf couldn’t have wagered that much.”
The king kissed her on the forehead. “He didn’t realize he was. I bet him ten pieces of gold against rice doubling on a chessboard. You know, one grain on the first square, two on the second, four on the third—” He laughed. “The fool couldn’t imagine why I wanted so little. Obviously, he doesn’t know the legend of the man who asked the same of a long-ago ruler as a reward for his service.”
The queen broke into a sweat. “I learned it at my father’s knee. As the grains double, the total quantity increases so rapidly that before he reaches the final square, he will owe you more rice than exists in the world!”
“Of course.” Grinning, the king slouched against a white column.
She shot to her feet. “And when the emperor discovers his error?”
“Likely he’ll pay me the rice’s value in gold. In the legend, the loser gives the winner a promotion.” Norbert buffed his nails against his scarlet tunic.
“Not in the version Father told. In that one, the winner lost his head.” She stomped her foot. “How could you be so foolish? It’s a famous tale. No doubt one of the emperor’s advisors has already recounted it to him.”
The king rolled his eyes. “I’ve thought of that. He has a genie, remember?”
Constance threw up her hands, bracelets rattling down to her elbows. “And only three wishes! Is he likely to use one-third of them to repay a gambling debt to a very minor king? You’ll be lucky to escape with your life—you certainly won’t keep our realm.”
Norbert tugged at his gold-embroidered collar. “Uh, I, that is, we need to think of a plan.”
Hours passed. Constance sat considering options by the door, while Norbert paced the marble floor. He lifted a forefinger. “I have it! We’ll invent an excuse to depart immediately. I’ll leave word to have him send us a bag of rice by imperial post.”
The queen shook her head. “By now word has spread throughout the palace. I’ve overheard servants laughing about it in the hall. You’ve embarrassed the emperor. How I wish I’d never taught you this game!” She swept her hand across the board, sending pieces clattering to the floor. “If I’d played him… though he likely would have refused. He barely acknowledged me when we were introduced.”
The king paled. “I could back down, or apologize.”
“Still not enough, I fear.” Queen Constance seized the chessboard, brandishing its sixty-four disastrous squares at Norbert. Originally her father’s, its ornate back with a mother-of-pearl inner and golden outer border reminded her of his coffin, except for its square shape. Its shape…
She drew in a long breath. “Unless… Right now, the emperor is the butt of the joke. What if we change the punchline?”
Queen Constance met Emperor Ulf at his granary’s doorway shortly after sunrise, the chessboard tucked under her arm. He sat at a black wrought-iron table, accompanied by his grand vizier and members of his imperial guard. The genie was likewise present, a silvery cloud in human form hovering over the emperor. Servants peeked out from behind doors and through windows in nearby buildings.
Make this good, the queen told herself. She minced forward and curtseyed. “My husband is indisposed but he explained what you’re going to do—put one grain on the first square, then double the number for every square after that.”
Ulf nodded, a sour look on his mustached face. He gestured to a large bag of rice beside his knee with his left hand and raised a golden pair of tweezers with his right. “Let us begin.”
“Certainly, Imperial Majesty,” said Queen Constance. Pinkies outstretched as if she held two cups of tea, she set the board on the table.
The emperor blinked, as did his entire entourage. “What’s that?”
“My husband’s chessboard. See, there are the squares.” She pointed.
The emperor exchanged a puzzled glance with his grand vizier. “Madam, have you never played chess? Or seen a game played?” Ulf asked.
The queen tossed her auburn curls and giggled behind her hand. “Chess is for men.”
The grand vizier leaned forward. “Did your husband give you permission to handle this matter?”
“Oh yes. He even wrote it down. She fumbled through her reticule. “Dear me, I know it’s here somewhere. Ah.”
Emperor Ulf snatched the note from her fingers and read it over. “Indeed, this empowers you to decree that the repayment is complete. Very well, we need delay no longer.”
Extracting a single grain of rice from the bag, he put it in the middle of the first square. Next he put two on the second square, and four on the third. “There! Now I have paid in full.”
“So you have,” the queen chirped, scooping the grains into her reticule. “Thank you so much. Now I must return to my husband. I do hope that his headache is better.”
She spun around, setting her skirts awhirl, then trotted back to the palace. You owe me, husband, and I will collect.
Exerting imperial self-discipline, the emperor and his men suppressed their merriment until the butler closed the door behind her. “Wait until he discovers what she agreed to!” Ulf guffawed, pounding his fist on the table. “This will teach him a sharp lesson—though not so sharp as the one that insolent whelp deserves.” He fingered his sword’s edge.
In front of them lay the chessboard, which Queen Constance had placed upside down on the table. Its only visible squares were the reverse of the playing area and its inner mother-of-pearl border and outer golden one—three in all.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Thanks to the wonderful editors at Havok, as always, for their help with this piece! (And, of course, thanks to the person who wrote the rice on a chessboard that inspired it.)
What a clever twist on an old story!!
Thanks for the compliment!
I’ve never heard that story, but it makes a good math lesson and moral lesson. Loved your version!
Glad you enjoyed it!
Nice! Very clever choice of a legend, and a wonderful twisty ending. Yes, the Havok editors are terrific.
Thanks so much for your kind words.