Bran spat when Adin placed his king firmly in checkmate. Their first game took Adin completely by surprise. He’d only focused a small amount of attention on playing and before he knew it Bran had him mated and was crowing with triumph. The second game had required his full concentration, and still Bran had put up a decent fight. Adin was no master by any means, but he’d never been a pushover. Yet Bran, was practically homeless, had neatly cornered him once and pushed his limits the second game. “Tie-breaker?” Adin asked, setting the pieces back on the board. He had no idea what time it was, probably after ten, and he was feeling relaxed, but not yet tired. He’d been working his way through a bottle of Beaujolais L’ancien, loving its rich, peppery taste and red fruit finish. The air was completely free of sound. Not even the whispers of appliances, or Boaz working in the background, marred the quiet of the evening. Bran moved his first piece out, the standard king’s gambit, pushing the white king’s pawn to e4.
