Ход королевы
Chapter 9
Thenextmorningsheplayedhimatbreakfastandthecombinationsarosefromherfingertipsandspreadthemselvesontheboardasprettilyasflowers.Shebeathimfourquickgames,lettinghimplaythewhitepieceseachtimeandhardlylookingattheboard.
WhilehewaswashingthedisheshetalkedaboutPhilidor,oneofhisheroes.PhilidorwasaFrenchmusicianwhohadplayedblindfoldedinParisandLondon.
“Ireadaboutthoseoldplayerssometimes,anditallseemsstrange,”shesaid.“Ican’tbelieveitwasreallychess.”
“Don’tknockit,”Beltiksaid.“BentLarsenplaysPhilidor’sDefense.”
“It’stoocramped.Theking’sbishopgetslockedin.”
“It’ssolid,”hesaid.“WhatIwantedtotellyouaboutPhilidorwasthatDiderotwrotehimaletter.YouknowDiderot?”
“TheFrenchRevolution?”
“Yeah.Philidorwasdoingblindfoldexhibitionsandburningouthisbrain,orwhateveritwastheythoughtyoudidintheeighteenthcentury.Diderotwrotehim:‘Itisfoolishtoruntheriskofgoingmadforvanity’ssake.’IthinkofthatsometimeswhenI’manalyzingmyassoffoverachessboard.”Helookedatherquietlyforamoment.“Lastnightwasnice,”hesaid.
Shesensedthatforhimitwasaconcessiontotalkaboutit,andherfeelingsweremixed.“Doesn’tKoltanowskiplayblindfoldedallthetime?”shesaid.“He’snotcrazy.”
“Iknow.ItwasMorphywhowentcrazy.AndSteinitz.Morphythoughtpeopleweretryingtostealhisshoes.”
“Maybehethoughtshoeswerebishops.”
“Yeah,”hesaid.“Let’splaychess.
