[ 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 .

King Wihtos summoned his advisor. `` How long until we must move again?'' he asked between rattled breaths. He gazed over at the Queen's lifeless body, her porcelain skin illuminated by the moonlight. The tent was cold, not like the majestic castle he had once gloriously ruled in. The Morvan bowed low. `` My king, the Dark Army has surrounded us. We can only run.'' The King's brow furrowed and again his eyes fell upon his lifeless Queen. `` So this is how it ends,'' he murmured. 
 It had been a tactical error. Sending Sir Gregor and his battalion to take the Castle Black had been impetuous. Now Sir Gregor was trapped on the far side of the jagged mountains and the pathway for the Dark Army's assault was opened before them. The King's advisor looked up to his greying master. `` What will you have me do, sire?'' The King did not answer. His once bright blue eyes had dimmed and sat transfixed on his dead wife. `` Sire?'' Slowly the King rose. The fat beneath his eyes crinkled and cracked. His armor appeared heavy on him. His skin was like paper. The end was clear, that much was certain. He moved slowly to the great table where his sword lay. His old hand clutched the cold metal. The advisor scuttled by his side. `` What will you have me do?'' 
 The King bowed his head, `` Send all remaining legions to flank the Dark Army.'' He coughed. Some blood spattered on the table. `` With luck we will buy at least some time for Sir Gregor to return.'' Morvon trembled. `` And what of us, my King?'' King Wihtos sat still. He sank lower, and suddenly, with the strength of his former self, he sprang forth and thrust his sword upwards. `` I WILL NOT DIE THIS WAY LIKE A DOG!'' The once faded glory of Wihtos burst forth in the dark. He kneeled before his Queen. `` My Lady you will not have died in vain. I promise you, with all my resolution I will not let these barbarians defile what I hold dear.'' Invigorated, he turned back to Morvon and held his head high. `` We will move as a small party under cover of night and make our way through the forest, the long way to the jagged mountains and attempt to find Sir Gregor. They may chase us but we will ride swift. I do not know the end, Morvon, but if we are to die I intend to do it fighting and not sitting idle and defeated in this tent!''
