The room was dark and damp with a smelly odor coming from the floorboards. Out of the pitch-black darkness came a bright light. The flicker of a long match illuminated the whole area. Holding the match was a gaunt short man with thinning hair. He was middle-aged with pasty white skin. While walking around the dark room the match continued to burn. The man was in a cellar full of fine wine as he paced around the small room, he noticed a candle resting on a saucer next to a bottle of wine.

As the match was about to burn out completely, the old man lit the candle. After, he could see the many kinds of wine placed with care on oak shelves. The man shook his head. He felt frustrated. Shaking his head once more the man continued to fret as he searched for the correct bottle of wine.

Finally, the man stopped in front of shelves stacked with wine. Something caught his interest. It was a bottle of Rothschild Red – An impressive vintage. Dressed in a fine tuxedo with a black bow tie, he grabbed this very fine bottle.

Looking at it with a kind of reverence, the man began to smile. “Yes. This is what I’ve been looking for… I must deliver it now.”

With the candle in hand and the bottle carefully tucked under his arm he noticed the candle was burning fast. He placed his hand on a long wooden banister that went upwards towards the main floor where he kicked the door ajar with his foot.

As the door swung open the old man’s eyes felt a sharp piercing pain as the light from the room overpowered him. “What took you so long? I was about to send a search party to come and find you.”

The man pressed his hand forward with the candle still burning. The light from the room was in stark contrast to the one he had just been in. “Artie, how is my finest servant doing?” The old man stepped forward. “Sir. If you could be so kind, I would like you to take this burning candle from my hand.”

Artie bent over as he motioned his master to take the burning candle from his hand. He began to sweat as the bottle of wine started to slip. Artie’s master grabbed the candle and blew it out just as Artie retrieved the bottle before dropping it. “Nice work Artie. Cork the wine in the kitchen before serving it in the drawing room.”

Hunched over, Artie fiddled with his bow tie before standing upright.

While hovering over the kitchen sink, Artie grabbed the wine bottle in one hand while corking it with the other. He spun around before gazing at a long table in the middle of the room which held a number of empty wine glasses.

Artie put the opened bottle of wine on the table next to the corkscrew. For such a large somber house the kitchen area was one of the more bright and sunny places. The villa was located in the Derbyshire countryside in the midlands of England. Artie with shaky hands began to root around the kitchen looking for a serving tray.

He faced the sink once more looking for the tray. As he looked up, he saw a large cabinet door with a brass handle on it. He opened it slowly. Standing on his tip toes he reached into the cabinet above. With a dower look on his face, Artie took an old damp grey cloth and wiped the tray clean. Thinking about the proceedings in the drawing room, Artie placed the wine glasses on top of the tray with utmost precision before draping a large white tea towel on his left arm.

With a grin on his face, he walked down the hallway from the kitchen towards the drawing room. The glasses on the tray began to shake as he got closer and closer to his destination. Loud music and the sound of laughter was heard as he approached the door to the drawing room. The door was slightly open and the noise from inside was palpable.

As Artie passed through the haze of tobacco smoke, he looked for his master as the loud music continued to blast from a turntable housed in the corner.

The large room had high ceilings with white paint and crown molding. The windows on every wall had gothic inspired window frames made with stain glass. The images on the windows seemed to show various scenes from the Holy Bible and other religious images that were byzantine in nature.

Artie made his way through the crowd towards his master who had a pipe in hand. The master’s gaze floated around the room looking at his many friends while engaging in a chess match with a tall thin man wearing thick glasses and coarse wavy grey hair.

As Artie looked on, he felt like a fly on the wall as he allowed his senses to drink up all the activity and frenzy of the room.

The man with the thick hair fiddled with his glasses before talking. “It’s your move Harold…” The whole room engaged in a collective sigh as the chess match continued. “Ok, Gaston. I’ve got a move for you!” Harold was plump with big lips and thin reddish-brown hair. He was about the same age as his opponent. He took a quick puff from his pipe before making his move. “Check… I think I’ve got you!”

The crowd took a step back as Artie stood in the thick of things. He tried hard not to bump into anyone. Harold pulled the pipe out of his mouth and leaned into his high back leather chair with a smile. Gaston’s eyes squinted as he stared at the chess board. “I see… so you’ve got me, eh?”

“Yes, I’ve got you!” The room was silent as the chess match continued. The only noise heard was an upbeat jazz record playing in the corner.

Artie looked towards his master with wine in hand ready to serve. Everyone in the room held their breath placing their collective focus onto the chess match. Harold had a sly grin as he took a puff off his fine dark wood pipe. He tapped it in a nearby ashtray. Gaston looked on puzzled yet confident. “I’ve got a move for you Harold. How’s this?” Gaston did a queen side castle avoiding Harold’s check. The crowd began to shout and hiss.

Harold shook his head. He fiddled with his pipe as his focus intensified on the game. “Queen side castle. Very good Gaston! You’re getting better.” Artie was mindful of the drinks in hand as he tried to make his way closer. The guests at Harold’s gathering were the best-heeled people in the local area. – the truly upper crust of the English midlands. Artie moved towards his master eager to fulfill his duty. “Sir, I have the wine you’ve requested.” The room went quiet as Harold looked up at his servant. Artie stepped forward with great care as he clutched the tray of wine with his strong right hand. People pushed away as Artie stepped between the two men looking down at their heated chess match. “Your wine as ordered Sir.”

Gaston looked up at Artie with a sly grin. “Your master thinks he’s got the best of me – don’t you Harold?” Harold seemed unmoved by Gaston’s comment as he reached his hand towards Artie taking an empty glass off the tray. Gaston looked on with glee as he did the same. After Artie served the two men, he took a step back into the crowd.

Harold had a slight grin on his face as he sipped on his fine glass of wine. “Drink up Gaston. It’s good for you!”

Gaston looked directly into his opponent’s eyes. “As good as this game is going?” Harold chuckled with his wine in hand running a fingertip over the rim of the glass. “Do you fear a bad outcome?” Gaston shook his head from side to side trying to smile. He clutched his glass before taking a gulp.

The crowd of onlookers maintained their interest in the game. Artie appeared tense as he kept the tray under his arm while looking on. He spoke up: “Gentleman… Are you going to finish this game?” The crowd of onlookers turned to face Artie looking distraught as he took a step back. Gaston looked up at Artie with a smile. “Is the game getting to you?” Artie took a step back again before wiping a drop of sweat off his brow. The whole room had their eyes fixed on Artie. He felt bewildered. He turned away from the crowd once more with his sight set on the chess match and the two men playing. Harold with wine in hand turned to face his servant with a raised glass. “To my trusted servant – Artie Shaw. Best servant in all of Derbyshire.” After Harold took a big gulp, Artie felt embarrassed and delighted at the same time. Gaston had his eyes locked completely on Harold.

Harold leaned forward and packed some aromatic pipe tobacco from a pouch. He placed it into the bowl of his pipe. He grabbed a match from with his pants pocket and lit it. Gaston leaned back in his chair gazing across the room at Harold as a plume of tobacco smoke filled the room. Gaston had a slight look of excitement as he hoped for a quick and final victory over Harold. Harold clutched his pipe with one hand exhaling as the sweet-smelling tobacco blew through his nostrils. “Knight to Queen Bishop six. Check I think.”

Gaston glimpsed at the chessboard. He looked distraught as he took a small sip of wine. The room fell into a quiet hush. Harold took another quick hit from his pipe before leaning back in his chair with his glass of wine in hand. “We have to make this game worth something. This can’t just be a game. Something has to be at stake. You have estates and so do I. You have horses and so do I. We’re both flush with money. Let’s make the final victory the zero-sum game that it is. Let’s put money on the line.” Harold looked tensed and amused at the same time. He looked to his friends for some measure of support. He let his fingertip linger on a beautifully carved wooden rook. After much thought, Harold edged forward placing his wine on the table next to the chessboard. “I’ve got a white palomino. She’s young, beautiful and ready to race. She’s worth at least a quarter of a million dollars at auction.”

Gaston looked towards the crowd with a wide grin on his face. “My stable could use a horse such as yours. I guess you want to know what I have to offer in order to make the game interesting.” The group of onlookers including Artie inched closer together as their eyes were fixed on Gaston and Harold. Gaston kicked back in his seat with a grin on his face. “I’ve got a red Ferrari 380 GT. It has a resale value about the same as your horse. I’ve got the keys in my pocket.”

The crowd reacted to Gaston’s offer with trepidation and excitement. Harold looked amused by Gaston’s willingness to part with such a fine automobile. He gazed at the chessboard in front of him. “That would be nice… I’d love to add such a car to my collection.”

Gaston seemed overjoyed at the prospect of winning a fine steed. Artie looked over the whole scene as he contemplated the outcome of the game. The room seemed to become smaller once the jazz album stopped playing. The two men sat upright in their chairs looking at the chessboard which was made from a fine slab of white and purple marble. The pieces were finely crafted from spruce wood.

Harold looked around the room. Many were friends and associates from his days as a bond trader in the over-the-counter market in the financial district of London. Harold had an image he needed to protect. It was his house after all and he felt obligated to win in order to maintain an image of strength and superiority over Gaston.

Gaston leaned back in his seat with his fingers intertwined. Then he dug in his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys. The whole room was taken aback as a number of people began whispering as Gaston dangled the set keys in the air.

Harold grinned slightly as he watched Gaston with his keys in hand as he contemplated his next move. Everyone grew quieter as the late evening turned to night. Harold took a pinch of tobacco and placed it in his pipe before lighting it once more. Gaston placed the keys to his fine car on the table next to the chessboard. Harold clutched his pipe before exhaling. Hanging above the chessboard was another large plume of aromatic tobacco smoke.

Harold leaned forward taking a quick gulp of wine. He placed his pipe between his lips before inhaling. “Well Harold. What’s it going to be?” Artie held his breath as he looked on. “As I said, Knight to Queen Bishop 6. Check. I think.”

Gaston’s eyes drifted around the room. Harold held his pipe in his hand as he looked over the chessboard. Gaston seemed amused by Harold’s apparent nervousness. “Is that car of yours in good shape?” Gaston looked at Harold with smug annoyance. “What do you mean Harold?” Harold grinned as he looked toward his opponent before pointing to the keys to Gaston’s Ferrari. “I just want to make sure your car is in good shape before we continue.”

Gaston took a hard final gulp of wine. He seemed perplexed. “Why are you worried all the sudden? You think my car is unsafe?” Harold scratched his chin as he glanced at Gaston. “I’m just curious. A high-end vehicle like yours requires a lot of maintenance. If a man wasn’t careful, he could get into some real trouble.”

Artie’s eyebrow twitched upwards as the party of onlookers continued to peer at the match in front of them. “Knight to Queen Bishop 6, eh?” Harold said nothing as Gaston’s eyes darted around the chessboard.

Gaston started to fidget in his seat. He grabbed the keys to his car off the table before twirling them in his fingers. “It’s quite the position I’m in… I don’t know what to say.” Harold took a hit off of his pipe before taking another drink of wine. “Why don’t you resign? It may be your best move.” Gaston said nothing for a while as his eyes looked towards the crowd. Gaston looked tense as he contemplated his next move. “Chess is a zero-sum game. Somebody wins and somebody loses… There are no accidents. Luck has no place when it comes to chess. Every move made has a consequence. Right now, it seems you have the upper-hand.” There were murmurs from the crowd as Harold began to smile. He held his glass of wine in the air toasting the onlookers as Gaston began to sink in his chair looking with intensity at the keys to his Ferrari. “I would agree Gaston. So, what’s it going to be?”

Gaston looked at Artie with a slight grin. No one seemed to notice as the two men locked eyes. Artie began to thrust his chin forward towards Gaston.  Gaston raised his glass in the air looking over the crowd. Artie nodded his head towards Gaston. “I think we need some more wine and enough time to consider the end game. What do you say Harold?”

As Harold clutched on his pipe, Gaston turned to Artie with a smile. “More wine…” Artie waved at Gaston. Harold looked over at Artie while still clutching his pipe. “Take only the best Artie… I look forward to your selection.”

Artie looked at his master before making another gesture towards Gaston. The two men seemed to click with each other in a way nobody noticed. Artie took a large step away from the crowd grabbing the empty bottle of wine off the table along with the two empty wine glasses.