Page 59 of Niccolo

“The knight moves in an L shape – two squares in one direction, then another square to the left or the right. Both the queen and the knight can attack in eight different directions – but the knight is unique in that it can attack pieces not in its direct line of sight.”

I demonstrated by moving the knight in an L shape and landing on one square…

Then replacing it in the center and repeating the process seven more times in a clockwise pattern.

“The knight can’t go as far, though,” Aurelio said nastily. “The queen can go across the entire board.”

“Yes,” I admitted, “but if I want to mess with someone’s head, I’ll take deviousness over brute strength any day of the week.”

“Good – good,” Fausto said approvingly. He held his drink up in the air in a toast. “I can tell you’ll make an excellentconsigliere.”

That just pissed off Aurelio even more.

“Then what aboutourside?” he complained. “They’ve got seven pieces, and we’ve only got three.”

“True.”

“If Father’s the king, and you’re the knight, I guess that makes me the queen,” he said smugly.

“I thought you didn’t want to be a woman,” I said.

Aurelio glowered at me. “Whatever. I’m the most powerful piece on our side, that’s for sure.”

Certainly the stupidest,I thought to myself.

“We should go about recruiting other pieces,” Fausto said.

I nodded. “That’s why I’d like to speak with the Turk.”

24

Iwas in Paris at a poker tournament on the day Dario Rosolini got out of prison.

I would have gladly skipped the tournament, but Fausto was still being a miserly bastard, so I went on principle alone.

Paris was only a two-hour flight from Florence, so it wasn’t a big deal. And I had already registered and pre-paid my entry fee months in advance.

Unfortunately, the game in Paris paled in comparison to the one I had left behind in Italy. Next to my newCosa Nostrasideline, poker seemed boring and insipid.

I was so distracted that I played horribly and busted out after the third round.

Oh well. The pot had only been a million euros. I had ten times that amount at stake in the other game – the more important game.

I flew back to Florence that evening. When I arrived at the mansion, the foot soldiers told me Fausto and Aurelio had gone to Dario’s house to say hello. I was shocked to find out my new mortal enemies lived only 30 minutes away.

“How did it go?” I asked when they returned.

“He’s still as big an asshole as when he went to prison,” Aurelio snarked.

“Wonderful, but how did itgo?”

“About as well as could be expected.” Fausto shrugged. “They still blame me for letting Dario take the fall.”

“Any regrets about that?” I asked.

“Only that I didn’t manage to have him killed while he was still in San Vittore.”

His comment sent a chill down my spine.

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