The Pawn Cohort — Pawn Patrol, Sienna and Bran, Trotter and Trundle, Gable and Garrett

The Pawn Patrol (Steg and Sten)

The Pawn Patrol are from the border villages on the kingdom's eastern frontier, where winter arrives early and stays long. They are, of all the pawn-pairs serving at the academy, the most-trained. Their job, before they were called to serve at the chessboard, was to watch the kingdom's border crossings — the same eastern crossings, in fact, that figured in the bad winter when Queen Vesper rode across the frozen lake on a stolen horse. The Pawn Patrol were posted at one of the outposts that held that winter against the cold and the strategic confusion. They have, on occasion, mentioned this fact. They do not boast about it.

Steg is the older of the two by about six months. He is solid, methodical, and slightly grim by temperament. He believes the word patrol is a job description, not a name in the proper sense, and he was deeply suspicious when their unit commander introduced them as the Pawn Patrol during their first chess-academy appearance. He has, in the years since, accepted the designation. He has accepted most things in his life with the same quiet shrug.

Sten is six months younger than Steg and approximately twice as cheerful in her resting expression. She doesn't smile during patrols — that would, she insists firmly, be unprofessional in the field — but she smiles plainly afterward, when the watch has ended. She is the one who taught Steg, after considerable effort, to occasionally lean on his halberd instead of standing rigidly to attention through every hour of every shift. She had to teach him this twice, on separate occasions. He is, by his own admission, still working on it.

Both of them speak with the careful gruffness of people who have stood guard in cold weather for a very long time. They are, in the chess kingdom's informal military hierarchy, the most disciplined members of the pawn cohort. Captain Castle introduces them to the children with respect, which is the form of introduction Steg actually prefers.

Their job on the board is to hold the line. They are usually placed as the centre pawns — the d-pawn and the e-pawn — and they advance only when ordered to by their king. They do not improvise. They have never improvised. They have, at the academy, twice been asked whether they would consider improvising, and the answer was the same both times.

Sienna and Bran

Sienna and Bran are siblings — fraternal twins, born on the same hour of the same evening — from a farming village called Wheatsetter in the kingdom's southern plain, where the harvest schedule organises most of village life. You may notice the wheat reference in the name of the village. King Sable, who is from the same southern region of the kingdom, would say "the wheat came in" about these two if you happened to ask him. He would not elaborate further. He never does.

Sienna is the elder of the twins by twenty-three minutes. She is patient by temperament, the way the season is patient. She has the patience of someone who has watched grain grow over many summers, which is a particular kind of patience that simply cannot be hurried. She is, in fact, slow on purpose during games. Children watching her on the chessboard sometimes find her almost too quiet to follow. Captain Castle, who has played enough games to know better, simply waits her out. Sienna's quiet is the kind that always pays off in the long run if you give it enough turns.

Bran is the younger sibling by twenty-three minutes. He is, in his own calm way, cheerful about most things. He does not sing while working, but he hums sometimes when nobody is listening. He has the cheerfulness of someone who has been to the same harvest festival every year of his life and still looks forward to the next one. He believes — and has said so, on the board, more than once — that pawns are the backbone of any properly organised army. He is right about this. He is also not loud about being right.

The siblings dreamed, when they were small children, of becoming queens. This is the standard dream of most pawns, and most pawns do not get it. Sienna and Bran did not get it either. Two of their cousins did, however. The siblings are not bitter about the outcome. They are genuinely proud of their cousins. They write letters back and forth on holidays.

Their job on the board is to be reliable. They are usually placed as the c-pawn and the f-pawn — the supporting wing pawns — and they hold their squares stubbornly across the long middle of the game. They are the pawn-pair Captain Castle most often points to when he wants to teach children that holding ground is, in itself, a kind of victory worth celebrating.

Trotter and Trundle

Trotter and Trundle are roadside merchants from the kingdom's western highway, a long road that runs from the capital out to the trading towns near the western border. They have, in their pre-board lives, sold leather goods (Trotter) and small woodcraft (Trundle) from a single cart they pulled together up and down the highway for nearly a decade.

They are the jokesters of the pawn cohort.

This may seem unusual for pawns, who are otherwise the most-serious pieces on the board by reputation, but Trotter and Trundle have a particular and well-earned reason for being the way they are. They have heard, over their decade together on the road, every customer's joke in the kingdom. You cannot stand at a market stall for that long without developing a kind of patient humour about how people behave when they are about to buy something they don't strictly need. They are, by their own cheerful admission, professionally amused by most things.

Trotter is taller and louder of the two. He is loud only by pawn standards, of course. Captain Crossfire would describe him as "merely audible." Trundle is shorter than Trotter and considerably more dry in his delivery. Their jokes are usually structured as a setup-and-payoff, alternating between them — the way the Twin Knights of Fork Hill finish each other's sentences, but with worse rhythm and considerably better punchlines.

A typical Trotter-Trundle exchange goes something like this: - Trotter: "Two squares! On our first move!" - Trundle: "And nobody noticed!" - Both, together, at the same time: "Don't tell the bishop."

The chess academy was, at first, slightly uncertain about the question of hiring them. The hiring committee worried that the children would get distracted by the jokes during the lessons. Captain Castle pointed out, mildly, that distraction is a teaching tool when handled correctly by the right teacher. The academy hired them on a one-month trial. They are still here.

Their job on the board is to be the a-pawn and h-pawn — the outer wing pawns. They are the pawns who, in many games, get the first chance to push two squares forward unnoticed because everyone watching the game is focused on the centre. They love this fact about their job. They tell jokes about it. They have told the same joke about it, with minor variations, for nearly six years.

Gable and Garrett

Gable and Garrett are from the town-rooftop wanderer tradition of the kingdom's northern hill towns. This requires a small explanation, because the tradition is not well-known outside the region itself.

In the northern hills, the towns are old, and the houses are tall, and the roofs are connected — built deliberately to lean against each other for warmth and structural support against the wind. If you grow up in a northern hill town, you grow up climbing onto your neighbour's roof as a matter of routine. You grow up walking across roof-tiles instead of crossing streets to get anywhere worth getting to. There is even a kind of unofficial profession in those towns: the wanderer, who walks the rooftops to deliver small messages, retrieve cats from chimneys when they refuse to come down, and notice things that ground-walking people simply do not have the angle to notice.

Gable and Garrett are both wanderers.

They are not siblings, in case that needs clarifying. They met when they were eleven years old, both walking the rooftops of the same town on the same morning, and they have walked rooftops together more or less ever since. They are not twins disguised as friends. They are friends. That is allowed.

Gable is the more thoughtful of the two by temperament. He looks down from rooftops and notices the shape of the streets below. He has, in his head, a near-perfect map of every town he has ever wandered through. He is the quiet pawn of the entire cohort.

Garrett is the dreamer. He looks up from rooftops, mostly. He notices clouds. He notices birds. He notices the way the kingdom's banners change colour in different qualities of light. He is the pawn most likely to forget which square he's currently on during a game. Gable always reminds him, gently. Garrett always thanks Gable. The exchange has happened so many times that the children have begun to anticipate it.

Both wanderers believe, in their separate ways, that the world looks smaller from above — which is a useful belief to have when you are a pawn on the eighth rank looking back at the long walk you've just finished making.

Their job on the board is to be the promotion pawns. When a game reaches the endgame and a pawn looks like it might reach the far rank, it is usually Gable or Garrett doing the reaching. They are the dreamers. They are the ones who imagine becoming queens before they have actually done it. Their cousins from Wheatsetter did become queens, on two separate occasions. They might, too, one day.

Captain Castle has, in his eleven thousand watched games, seen Gable promote to a queen eighty-six separate times. He has seen Garrett promote ninety-one times. He keeps the count quietly. He does not mention it to either of them.