"Very well I'll take you to the rest of the treasure if you promise that my friend and I can go free and live comfortably for the rest of our lives."
"But of course! It is the least that I could offer. You have my word."
I hoped my face didn't show the skepticism I had at the reality of the unfaithfulness of his words.
"Sheba's throne will reveal the treasure."
Heinrich actually looked excited in a sort of sick psychotic way, as I started heading on through the treasure room to an overlooked pillared doorway at the far end of it.
I caught a glimpse of my father's face. He looked puzzled, good! I hoped he stayed that way.
"Do you think you could put on a little speed?" I whispered.
"Will do." Flint said through gritted teeth.
We made the doorway and walked on through. I kept tugging Flint onward an off to the side of the royal throne room, as everyone else pretty much came to a stop and starred in wonder at the royal dais situated on the other end of the room. Even Flint seemed sucked in by the fascination of gazing at it and the image that dominated the wall beyond the throne.
Flint looked surprised, when I leaned him up against the pillar of a side doorway. He glanced at the doorway; it was the only one on this side of the royal chamber room. The other side had five doorways. His eyes met mine in sudden knowledge that this was the place I had told him of.
"Remember?" I asked.
"Yes, but I'm not going to be able to run."
"I have a plan."
Marshawn was still gazing distractedly at the glory of Sheba's throne and the massive golden image of an earthly woman's beautiful face set off against a background setting of precious stones.
He was surprised, when I abruptly caught him by the throat and dragged him closer, "What's it gonna be Marshawn, pawn or something more?"
"What?" he asked surprised.
"To put it in my father's vernacular, I'm the queen and thus the most powerful piece on the board. In father's way of thinking your nothing but a disposable pawn Marshawn. I think you could be something more than that, a bishop or rook perhaps. A chess piece that has more control over its own future Marshawn."
"You forget who moves the pieces dear sister."
I shook my head and pointed to Flint, "Not anymore."
Marshawn glanced at Flint and then back at me and tentatively asked, "What's my move?"
"A bishop or a rook while powerful can only move in two directions and thus they are vulnerable." I pointed to the group still gawking over the throne room and then to the darkened doorway. "A Queen can cover you from every angle however."