Concerning Piece Exchanges

In some instances, when an opponent offers you an exchange by threatening your (protected) piece with an identically valued piece of theirs, it maybe better to retreat. With more pieces at your disposal, you will have an easier time controlling the board, especially if you have the ability to coordinate your pieces such that they are able to protect each other. You also must consider whether taking their piece will disrupt the coordination or protection of your other pieces. Moving one piece can leave many gaps in your defense, and it is imperative that one is aware of these gaps.

Wrapped in the sumptuous warmth of her cashmere robe, Solange LeClerc let her well-manicured fingers graze over the carved marble pieces on her chessboard. There was an as yet untouched ginger tea in a delicate fine bone china cup and saucer on the sideboard. Her bath had been ready for more than twenty minutes and would no doubt need to be reheated. Her bare toes dragged along the lush carpet beneath them and try as she might, she simply could not get motivated to move this morning.

Her eyes still lingered on the grey and ivory figures on the checkered board: primarily the knight and the queen. They were locked in opposition, taking up open files where they both were able to inflict damage on the other. What was most intriguing to her, however, was that neither piece had attacked yet. Instead, the ivory queen and the grey knight leered at each other, almost afraid of committing to an act from which there was no returning.

Did they not truly wish to take the other? Did they not truly wish to thrust their dominance onto lesser pieces? Did they no truly wish to stab wounds in the defense of the opposition? Then what were they waiting for?

Definitely not an exchange...
Or perhaps an exchange of different sorts.

Solange leaned against the high wingback chair, feeling the silk overlay against her cheek. A light came into her features, a small smile touched her eyes. An exchange. Why did the pieces have to constantly be locked in conflict? Yes, yes, it was the game. The game of strategy, of politics, of conquest.

But perchance the game was not what it once was.

"Nothing is as it once was," gently spoken as she found her voice and rose from the chair. "A new day, a new beginning. Clich?, but still true."

For the next hour, Solange bathed, dressed and prepared for this "exchange." Hugged by a fine woolen pair of black slacks, a white silk blouse and a black cashmere sweater, she made her way to the foyer of her rented villa. She had contacted transportation earlier and when it finally arrived, she bundled up in her black coat, with the fox fur collar. It was going to be a cold ride into the West End.

Thank goodness that the S.P.I. office was on the eastern side.

Snow crunching beneath her feet, Solange hurried to cross the short distance from where she was dropped off in front of the S.P.I. Office at Province Plaza. While she couldn't say the real estate was impressive, the West End was anything but, she could at least appreciate the business quality of the building. There was no presumptuous lobby laid out with marble floors or over-zealous uniformed guards synchronizing their greetings. Instead, it was a simple non-assuming property, a simple title and name plate at the entrance.

Tightening her coat, the leggy attach? opened the front door to the office, peering within. The wintery slush melted from her shoes as she made her way toward what looked like a private office behind another door, which was half-closed. She could smell the smoke of tobacco lightly lining the atmosphere. She fidgeted, loosening her coat then tightening it again. Solange drew another breath and readied herself for battle, or at least what she would have once considered battle. ?Hello?? she called out as her eyes roamed around the tidy office, spartan but well-appointed. ?Hello? Mr. D?Mourir? Alain?? she amended, ?I?ve come about your offer. It?s Solange.?

He was offering a drink? Quickly tidying up?

This was quite a different mode than either of them were used to. "But quite a lot of things are different now," she repeated silently to herself.

"Coffee, if you have it," and she accepted. What was said about old dogs and new tricks could have been wasted on the both of them today. Truthfully, she took no notice of any photos or ash. Instead, she seated herself opposite his desk and peered at the office. Indeed it seemed as if Alain's "detective adventure" was doing well; perhaps she was wrong, perhaps it was more of a success than she had allotted him.

Long stems in black slacks crossed as she sat back in the chair, her coat now comfortably loosened. She wanted to speak before he had a chance to. Solange always enjoyed making the first move. The pawn was pushed forward two spaces.

"It took me a little while, as I'm sure you know, to accept your offer. I think that this business venture of yours is an admirable one, and I would be happy to do some public relations for you. At least, I think that would be best." She had already placed her slim briefcase down beside the chair; its weight was modest, but significant to her. A superior chess player always had a fool-proof move, just in case it came to that.

Her attention was rapt, focused solely on him. She licked her lips as he finished and glanced down, her eyes finding her briefcase for the slightest of instants.

Drawing a breath, she reasserted her posture, "I don't know. Nobles often do things that are out of sorts simply because they are out of sorts." She knew it was a biting answer that held no real weight, but truthfully she was confused by the picture Alain had painted. "If he or she is truly a nobleman, one could say that he was doing nothing more than 'offing' his competition. Even nobility get testy around who has more money." She leaned forward to bless her coffee with one sugar and a healthy dose of cream. "But," she reconsidered her answer as she stirred and looked back to Alain, "it doesn't make sense why a true noblemen would try to get rid of political figures. The nobility, in any city, constantly relies upon the status quo of power to maintain their security and their rank. If the existing political structure goes, so too their fortunes."

She sipped her coffee, as if testing it out. Solange must have found no fault with it, having indulged in another larger sip before she continued. "Speaking from a technical standpoint," this would mean that she was accessing years of knowledge of chess, "getting rid of those around you with equal strength, who are supposed to be allies, holds no sense. It would be political and financial suicide." The silky slip of fine wool punctuated her point as she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, "I guess what would have to be looked at is the possibility that this person is not a member of the nobility in the conventional sense of the word. He or she might be an import, or frankly, not a real member of the nobility at all."

Even though the relation was very distant and by marriage, Solange couldn't help but marvel at the resemblance Alain carried to the Lord Elector Clarendon. Back in Nouveau Bretagne, there were times when Solange was sure that she could actually see her employer's thought processes forming. Now, as she watched Alain D'Mourrir, she studied the way his eyes bounced around the room, never seeing their surroundings more than piecing together the fragments of revelation within his mind.

As she listened to Alain's further explanation and plan, she sipped the coffee and actually sat quietly. Once he finished, only a simple smile posed upon her voluptuous lips. "Why Alain, I'm flattered. For several reasons, actually." Stretching forward, she deposited her coffee cup on his desk and stood up. Her long form easily shrugged its way out of her coat; she turned to toss it lazily over the back of her chair, the fox fur on the collar shivering as it landed. Her heels were set into motion as she wandered slowly from her seat; she was a vision of crisp professionalism: her black woolen slacks hung effortlessly, while the cashmere of her black sweater was set off by the gentle luminescent sheen of the white silk blouse beneath. Finely manicured fingertips were momentarily hidden as she folded her arms across her chest. "First off, the very fact that you don't think I had anything to do with the bombings is a step in the right direction," she smiled, well aware that sarcasm in the right circumstances was priceless. "And secondly, that you would be so kind as to think of me as 'bait.' Now, while Lord Elector Clarendon wouldn't have put it so brutishly, he never hesitated to request such services."

Solange paused to look at him as she leaned herself against a filing cabinet across the room. His thoughts had come so quickly and so cleanly that she wanted to make sure that she had absorbed them sufficiently. "So, an outsider. Without allies. Making his own way to power by restructuring the political and financial scheme. Again, let me thank you for not suggesting that it was me," another smile, perhaps warmer. She sighed as she pushed off of the filing cabinet and started back toward Alain, "I have my ways. I can find out who it is. I can get close to them. Just tell me everything you know from that witness. Between that and poking my perfectly straight nose around the election circuit and the new governor-elect, bait or not, I will get you what you need. Plus I have my own connections with the elite in this city." Her tone was so confident, so matter-of-fact. Sometimes, it's like riding a horse.

"Another couple of attacks?" She was honest with herself; this was not the answer that she had been expecting from the likes of the young D'Mourrir male. In fact, it sounded like something one of his elder family members might have said. The Clarendon side of his family, perhaps. Still, she indulged him, not wanting to seem disapproving. She wasn't, after all. Quite the contrary. He seemed to be the most promising of the D'Mourrirs that had made it here from Nouveau Bretagne. Even if it was in a different arena than she would have felt comfortable with.

She nodded almost soberly, "I suppose you're right. As the law officers back home would have stated, 'There's no sense in giving away your position before you're ready to pounce.' I'm sure you'll do your best to make sure that any attack is met with swift action and a minimal loss of life, Alain. And I, of course, will help any way I can." While her words were sincere, she still needed to work on her tone. She couldn't help it, even if she was being honest with him, their history was so ravaged by animosity that her tongue more often than not needed to be curbed.

A glance to her briefcase beside her chair called her back. Slowly she walked back and sat down, her wool pants draped perfectly as she crossed her legs. "After all, I'm used to helping the men in your family. I've counted it among my greatest victories and most significant assets." She leaned back and looked at Alain. With something not quite a dangerous as venom, but not casual as chance, she offered, "And that's something I plan to continue doing." An easy smile lit her features, the sort of smile that might make some men melt, some shutter, and some place their very life in her hands. But with Alain, she was aiming for a bite of the bait.

"But of course, Alain," Solange smoothly stood as she gathered her coat. "I will do my best to make sure that your reputation as a justice bringer is furthered." She swung the fur-collared coat over her shoulders, expertly sliding her arms into it. "And that you are safe, as well. Do not forget," she leveled a glance toward the D'Mourrir, "that I am as ever concerned for the safety of your family."

She tied the wool wrap securely around her long waist and turned for the door, "See me out?" She turned and measured a calculated but subtle glance to her briefcase on the floor. "Oh, I have forgotten my bag." She now unleashed her trump card, "And as far as the houses of D'Mourrir and Clarendon go? I happen to know for a fact that they would be more than proud of the work you are doing." She paused to see his reaction before continuing. Her leggy outline stood in perfect posture against the doorframe. "There is something in the briefcase for you. I had almost forgotten," pointing to her satchel, she continued, "Go on, open it."

"Oh that? That's just a little something that had the good fortune of following me from Nouveau Bretagne." She turned away from the door and focused her attention on him. Her long stems carried her back into the heart of the room, where she stood next to Alain. "It's a record of barony and gentry. I trust you know what that means," her lashes blinked then lifted as she looked to him. Solange's tone was a dangerous one, she could lead an Eskimo through the gates of hell if she wanted to. But this wasn't as bad as that, this was simply leading the horse to water and convincing him to drink.

"Along with some other papers and titles. Family lineage mostly. Oh, and don't forget to flip through this part," her perfectly manicured hand began to rifle through some of the papers in Alain's hand until she found what she was looking for. "Here." It was indeed a lineage, showing the Clarendon and D'Mourir family as members of La Noblesse d'?p?e, "Nobility of the purest line, dear Alain. So you see, all those times when you accused me of trying to drag you through something unbecoming, it was nothing more than espousing to you your heritage."

Her tone changed, it was somehow gentler, more inspirational. "Don't hate me because of it. I simply wanted you to understand just how important you truly are." She put up her hand as if to stay his comment, "And no, I know that one is important because of what they do, not just who they are. But I needed you to know just what your connection was...is." She sighed and stood before him, her hands on his shoulders, "Alain, I know what you are doing with those refugees from Nouveau Bretagne. Getting them settled with housing, jobs, security, hope. You're a born leader, boy. It's in your very genes for goodness sake! And that's not a bad thing, it's not! You can be an incredible leader. You have a passion and a compassion about you that mediocre figureheads lack. Being nobility is not a fatal disease, Alain. You can do wonderful things if you wield your power intelligently."

Her practiced voice softened further to a whisper, as if she were imparting some great secret to him, "Alain, this is momentous news; a birthright worth celebrating, not condemning. I know how you feel about me, but consider this: I have always done right by the men in your family. I have never steered any of them wrong. I care deeply for both branches of your bloodlines, the Clarendons and the D'Mourirs. I can help you, if you'll have me." She paused, she had taken quite a risk and felt oddly vulnerable.

Her smile and a sense of hope softened her features."Perhaps it is time to embrace who you truly are, and do it as a good thing. Possibly this is what you were honestly meant for. This could be the point in your life when you look back on your years, that you discovered your destiny. Alain," it was almost as if her dulcet tones were pleading with him, "this is a fine thing."

The Attach? watched Alain and his reactions for a few moments before she made another move or said anything. It was true, he was the same man as when their conversation had started. But what was also true was the fact that after learning something like this, lives shift.

Alain's life would be different now. He could fight it all he wanted, but he would have investments (both in relationships and business) that would change. Solange understood this, she understood it too well. "I will not say anything to anyone, Alain. This is your news. You will share it in your own time, on your own terms." Her voice was somber, almost sad. She had seen the collapse of other men upon gaining sudden power. While she didn't suspect Alain of harboring secret desires for domination, she knew that others who were would come out of the woodwork and go after him. Solange had witnessed it done to Lord Elector Clarendon, her employer and lover. Almost as an honor to him, she would make sure that Alain did not suffer the same fate.

"You just let me know what you would like for me to do. For now, I can just concentrate on the so-called noble who is desecrating this city with violence," she once more tightened the belt of her coat. "Call on me when you are ready for the other news to come into play." Pivoting on her heel, she turned for the door, but paused as her hand rested on the knob. "It's nice to not be your enemy, Alain." She looked to him and hurriedly added, "Keep those documents, and keep them safe. I have a feeling they will be worth a lot of money to some people."