[ WP ] A `` king hunt '' is a chess term for when the king is drawn out of safety ( usually by a sacrifice ) , chased across the board , and mated . Write such a hunt as if it were a real world battle .

His chambers were only about twice his size, but King Mavros XIV still wanted to pace within them. 
 
 There was little danger of an attack from the side of the castle; a powerful tower stood there to ward off attacks. It was the front that worried him greatly. The enemy had been massing nearby for some time; a scout had even been sighted within two kilometres. They appeared to be casting yearning glances toward him and his three personal guards, and the great tower to his side. 
 
 Phairon, one of the guards, appeared to share his suspicions in his one-track minded way. `` I do n't like this. It's making me nervous. You ought to call in some of your other troops to defend.'' 
 
 `` I told you, they're off on an important mission that, if I calculated right, should decimate the enemy.'' 
 
 `` A mission on the other side of the world, where they can hardly help us.'' 
 
 Gaxos was the quiet one of the guards, but now he spoke, in brief and hushed phrases. `` They've got everything lined up. It may look like they're just idling from here. But I know my battles. I know a prepared battle formation when I see it.'' 
 
 Mavros fleetingly thought to slap the guard for insolence, but chose to accept the wisdom instead. `` You mean...'' 
 
 A nod. `` They're coming here. Soon.'' 
 
 The king was convinced. `` I'll see if I can spare a warlock, or maybe the two of them—'' 
 
 `` We lost the one pretty soon after the battle started, sire.'' This was from Chourai, the third guard. 
 
 `` Indeed. And he took an enemy knight down with him, did n't he?'' Mavros chuckled as he wrote down the orders for help at the stronghold, and sent them away. `` Forces are even on both sides; I think—'' 
 
 `` Enemy approaches!'' said Phairon. Mavros squinted out over the battlements; an enemy warlock approached quickly. The white of his robe disgusted the king. 
 
 `` Wait... Chourai! Look out!'' 
 
 The third guard had time to raise his sword, but a powerful bolt of energy came through and knocked him to the ground. 
 
 `` No,'' breathed the king. `` Not...'' 
 
 The warlock stood before him, and to his left. `` It seems you're in danger, your Majesty,'' he said in a voice that sounded like shattered teeth falling from a skull. 
 
 `` Not for long. I think you'll find I'm a capable warrior myself.'' Mavros drew his dagger and put it through the warlock's heart. But in doing so, he found himself at the gates of the fortress. How far had the battle taken him? 
 
 The old man fell to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth. King Mavros took the staff from him, and ( not knowing how to use it ) snapped it in half. 
 
 Now here was an enemy knight, galloping across the plains beside the fortress where the king's armies carried out his assigned task. The knight had some further jaunty words for Mavros. 
 
 He shouted back into the stronghold. `` Gaxos! Phairon!'' 
 
 `` Yes, my liege,'' the two said, slightly out of sync. 
 
 `` I can not return. I see that if I do, the enemy will gather and overrun us in the tight space. I must go out, out into the world.'' 
 
 `` As you wish, my liege.'' 
 
 `` We shall hold the fort here.'' 
 
 King Mavros surveyed the world before him. He could not re-enter the castle, and he also could not take the side road; the enemy knight was ready to spring an ambush there. That left him but one choice: the full and open plains. 
 
 The destruction of his fortress made one thought occur to him. *Chourai's death was not in vain, for in killing that warlock, I have made our army the more powerful. If I can survive this excursion, I will win. * 
 
 **To be continued** ( but only if you people repeatedly remind me to ) 

