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- Herausgeber: Pushkin Children's Books
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013
A young messenger. A secret mission. A kingdom in peril.It is the dead of night.Sixteen-year-old Tiuri must spend hours locked in a chapel in silent contemplation if he is to be knighted the next day.But, as he waits by the light of a flickering candle, he hears a knock at the door and a voice desperately asking for help.A secret letter must be delivered to King Unauwen across the GreatMountains - a letter upon which the fate of the entire kingdom depends. Tiuri has a vital role to play, one that might cost him his knighthood.Tiuri's journey will take him through dark, menacing forests, across treacherous rivers, to sinister castles and strange cities. He will encounter evil enemies who would kill to get the letter, but also the best of friends in the most unexpected places.He must trust no one.He must keep his true identity secret.Above all, he must never reveal what is in the letter...The Letter for the Kingis the thrilling story of one boy's battle against evil, set in an enchanted world of chivalry, courage and true friendship.Tonke Dragtwas born in Jakarta in 1930 and spent most of her childhood in Indonesia. When she was twelve, she was interned in a camp run by the Japanese occupiers, where she wrote (with a friend) her very first book using begged and borrowed paper. Her family moved to the Netherlands after the war and, after studying at the Royal Academy of Art in The Hague, Dragt became an art teacher. She published her first book in 1961, followed a year later byThe Letter for the King, which won the Children's Book of the Year award and has been translated into sixteen languages. Dragt was awarded the State Prize for Youth Literature in 1976 and was knighted in 2001.'The story has the quality of a legend, a tale of ancient times. Over a million copies of the book have been sold worldwide.The Letter for the Kinghas everything.'Nederlands Dagblad'It is fascinating, captivating in the same way as Tolkien's The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. As well as the familiar battle between good and evil, we are presented with a discovery of true chivalry.'Schager Courant
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Dedicated to the three stars in the west
CONTENTS
Prologue
THE KNIGHTS OF KING DAGONAUT
This is a tale of long ago, when knights still roamed the land. It takes place in two kingdoms: the land of King Dagonaut, to the east of the Great Mountains, and the land of King Unauwen, to the west of the Great Mountains. The capital cities of these two realms also bear the name of their kings: the City of Dagonaut and the City of Unauwen. A third land also plays an important part in this tale, but now is not the time for stories of that place.
This account begins in the Kingdom of Dagonaut. But first you will need to know more about King Dagonaut and his knights and, with this in mind, I have transcribed a number of pages on the subject from an old, old book:
Our King Dagonaut is a mighty king; his reign is praised as wise and just, and his realm is large and beautiful, with hills and meadows, fertile fields, wide rivers and vast forests. There are mountains in the north and even higher mountains in the west. Beyond those mountains lies the land of King Unauwen, a realm of which our minstrels sing such beautiful songs. To the east and the south, the land is flatter, and enemies from those parts sometimes attempt to invade our country, jealous of the prosperitywe enjoy. But no one has ever succeeded in conquering the realm, as the king’s knights guard it well and defend it with courage. Within our borders, life is good, and all is safe and peaceful.
King Dagonaut is served by many knights, brave and bold men who help him to govern the kingdom and to maintain order. Many of these knights are famed throughout the land. Who among us has not heard of Sir Fantumar, and Tiuri the Valiant, and Ristridin of the South, to name but a few? The king has granted many of his knights land in fief, which they govern in his name. They are duty bound to come when he calls, and to aid him with their might and with their men.
Some knights, however, own no land; most of these men are still young but will succeed their fathers when they are older. And there are also knights-errant, men who have no desire for property and who travel around the land and offer their services wherever they go, patrolling the borders and even journeying beyond our kingdom to bring back news of distant lands.
The realm of King Dagonaut has many knights, and yet joining their ranks is no easy task. Any man who wishes to be knighted must prove himself worthy. He must undergo an arduous apprenticeship, first serving as a squire to an experienced knight and then joining the king’s guards for another year. Not only must a knight be able to use weapons and prove himself knowledgeable in many fields, but above all he must prove that he is chivalrous and honest, brave and true. He must be knightly in every respect.
Once every four years, at midsummer, King Dagonaut summons all of the knights to his city, where they remain for seven days. They inform him about the state of affairs in the various parts of the realm and give an account of their own activities and accomplishments.
And in that week, on midsummer’s day, the young men who have been found worthy are ceremoniously knighted by the king. It is a great day! After the ceremony, there is a service in the cathedral, followed bya feast at the palace. Then comes a magnificent procession through the city, in which all of the knights ride, in full armour, with their shields and banners, and the newest young knights leading the way. Citizens of Dagonaut come from far and wide to see the spectacle. The celebration takes place not just in the palace, but all over the city. A fair is held in the marketplace, with musicians playing and people singing and dancing in every street, in daylight at first and later by the glow of hundreds of torches. The next day, the king calls his men together and the new knights are permitted to join their gathering for the first time. And the day after that, they take part in a great tournament, which many people view as the most thrilling part of the week. Nowhere else in the realm can such splendour and chivalry, such courage and agility, all be seen in one place.
But before those glorious days, the young knights have to pass one final test. They must fast for twenty-four hours before the knighting ceremony. They are not allowed to eat a morsel or drink a drop. And they have to spend the night in contemplation at a small chapel beyond the city walls. The young men lay their swords before the altar and, dressed in their white robes, they kneel down to reflect upon the great task that lies ahead. They undertake to serve their king loyally as knights of Dagonaut, and to protect his kingdom, their own homeland. They swear to themselves that they will always be honest and chivalrous, and fight for what is good. The knights remain awake and reflect all night, praying for strength for their task. They are not permitted to sleep or to speak, or to pay any heed to those outside the chapel, until a delegation of the king’s knights comes at seven o’clock in the morning to take them before the king.
This story begins on such a night, in the small chapel on the hill outside the City of Dagonaut, where five young men were spending the night in reflection on the eve of their knighting ceremony. Their names were Wilmo, Foldo, Jussipo, Arman and Tiuri. Tiuri was the youngest of them; he was just sixteen years old.
PART ONE
A MYSTERIOUS MISSION
1 THE VIGIL IN THE CHAPEL
Tiuri knelt on the stone floor of the chapel, staring at the pale flame of the candle in front of him.
What time was it? He was supposed to be reflecting seriously upon the duties he would have to perform once he was a knight, but his mind kept wandering. And sometimes he found that he wasn’t thinking about anything at all. He wondered if his friends felt the same.
He glanced across at Foldo and Arman, at Wilmo and Jussipo. Foldo and Wilmo were gazing at their candles, while Arman had buried his face in his hands. Jussipo was kneeling with a straight back and staring up at the ceiling, but then he changed position and looked Tiuri right in the eyes. Tiuri turned his head away and fixed his gaze on the candle again.
What was Jussipo thinking about?
Wilmo moved, scraping his shoe on the floor. The others all looked in his direction. Wilmo hung his head and looked a little embarrassed.
It’s so quiet, thought Tiuri. I’ve never known such quietness in my entire life. All I can hear is our breathing, and maybe, if I listen carefully, the beating of my own heart…
The five young men were not permitted to say anything to one another, not even a word, all night long. They were also forbidden to have any contact at all with the outside world. They had locked the chapel door behind them and would not open it again until the next morning, at seven o’clock, when King Dagonaut’s knights would come to fetch them.
Tomorrow morning! Tiuri could already picture the celebratory procession: the knights on their magnificently caparisoned horses, with their colourful shields and fluttering banners. He imagined himself among them, riding a fine steed, clad in shining armour, with a helmet and a waving plume. But then he shook his head to rid himself of that vision. He knew he should not be thinking about the external trappings of knighthood, but instead vowing to be chivalrous and honest, brave and true.
The candlelight made his eyes hurt. He looked at the altar, where the five swords lay waiting. The shields hung above the altar, gleaming in the flickering light of the candles.
Tomorrow there will be two knights bearing the same coat of arms, thought Tiuri. Father and myself. His father’s name was also Tiuri and he was known as Tiuri the Valiant. Was he lying awake now, thinking about his son? Tiuri hoped he would become as worthy a knight as his father.
Then another thought occurred to him. What if someone were to knock at the door? He and his companions would not be permitted to open it. Tiuri remembered something that Sir Fantumar, whose squire he had been, had once told him. During his own vigil in the chapel, there had been a loud knocking at the door. Fantumar had been there with three other young men, and none of them had opened up. And it was just as well, because they later discovered that it had been one of the king’s servants, who had wanted to put them to the test.
Tiuri looked again at his friends. They were still kneeling in the same position. He knew it must be after midnight. His candle had almost burnt down; it was the shortest of the five. Perhaps it was because he was sitting by a window. The chapel was a draughty place and he could feel a chilly gust of air. When my candle goes out, he thought, I won’t light another one. The others wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark, which was an appealing thought, and he wasn’t worried that he might fall asleep.
Had Wilmo dozed off? No, he just shifted position, so he must be awake.
I’m not spending my vigil as I should, thought Tiuri. He clasped his hands together and rested his eyes on his sword, which he would be allowed to use only for a just cause. He repeated to himself the words that he would have to speak to King Dagonaut the following day: “I swear as a knight to serve you loyally, as I will all of your subjects and those who call upon my aid. I promise to…”
Then he heard a knock at the door. It was quiet, but there could be no doubt. The five young men held their breath, but stayed exactly where they were.
Then there was another knock.
They looked at one another, but no one said a word or moved a muscle.
The handle turned and rattled, but of course the door was locked. Then they heard the sound of footsteps slowly moving away.
All five of them sighed at the same time.
Good, thought Tiuri. That’s it over with. It was strange, but he felt as though, all throughout his vigil, he had been waiting for such an interruption. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure the others must be able to hear it. Come on, Tiuri, calm down, he said to himself. It was just a stranger who didn’t know about our vigil, or someone who wanted to disturb us, or to put us to the test.
But still, Tiuri waited anxiously for another sound. His candle flared brightly and then went out, with a quiet hiss, and he was surrounded by darkness.
He had no idea how much more time had passed when he heard a quiet noise above his head. It sounded like someone scratching at the window!
And then he heard a voice, as soft as a breath. “In the name of God, open the door!”
2 A STRANGER’S REQUEST
Tiuri straightened his back and looked at the window. He could see nothing, not even a shadow, so he might almost have imagined it. If only that were true! He couldn’t do as the voice had asked, no matter how urgent it had sounded. Tiuri hid his face in his hands and tried to banish every thought from his mind.
But again he heard the voice, very clearly, even though it was no more than a whisper. “In the name of God, open the door!”
It sounded even more urgent than before.
Tiuri looked at his friends. They didn’t appear to have heard anything. But he had definitely heard the voice! “In the name of God, open the door!”
What should he do? He wasn’t allowed to open the door… but what if it was someone who was in need of help, a fugitive in search of sanctuary?
He listened. All was silent again. But the voice was still echoing in his ears; he would never be able to forget it. Oh, why did this have to happen now of all times? Why did he have to be the one who heard the plea? He was not allowed to respond, but he knew that he would be unable to rest until he had done so.
Then Tiuri made a decision. Quietly, he stood up, stiff from kneeling on the cold floor for so long. Feeling his way along the wall, he tiptoed towards the door. He glanced at his friends and thought at first that they had not noticed anything, but then he saw Arman looking in his direction. He knew his friend would never betray him.
It seemed to take forever to reach the door of the chapel. Tiuri looked back one more time, at his friends, at the altar and the shields above it, at the light of the four candles, and at the dark shadows throughout the chapel, between the columns and around the vaulted ceiling. Then he headed to the door and put his hand on the key.
If I open this door, he thought, I’ll have broken the rules. And then the king will not knight me tomorrow.
Tiuri turned the key, opened the door a crack and peered out into the night.
A man stood outside the door, dressed in a monk’s habit, with the hood pulled down over his eyes. Tiuri could not see his face, as it was too dark. He opened the door a little wider and waited in silence for the man to speak.
“Thank you!” whispered the stranger.
Tiuri did not reply.
The stranger waited for a moment and then said, still in a whisper, “I need your help. It’s a matter of life and death! Will you help me? Please.” When Tiuri did not reply, he said, “My God, why won’t you say something?”
“How can you expect me to help you?” whispered Tiuri. “Why have you come here? Don’t you know that I am to be knighted tomorrow and that I may speak to no one?”
“I know that,” answered the stranger. “That is why I came to this place.”
“Well, you should have gone somewhere else,” Tiuri said. “Now I’ve broken the rules and so I can’t be knighted tomorrow.”
“You will be knighted and you will have earned your knighthood,” said the stranger. “A knight must help when his assistance is requested, must he not? Come outside, and I shall explain what I need you to do. Hurry, hurry, for there’s little time!”
What do I have to lose now? thought Tiuri. I’ve already spoken and I’ve opened the door, so why not leave the chapel too?
The stranger took him by the hand and led him around the outside of the chapel. His hand felt bony and wrinkled. It was the hand of an old man. His voice sounded old as well, thought Tiuri. Who could he be?
The stranger stopped beside a small, dark alcove. “Let’s hide here,” he whispered, “and we must speak quietly, so that no one can hear us.” Then he released Tiuri’s hand and asked, “What is your name?”
“Tiuri,” he answered.
“Ah, Tiuri. I know I shall be able to count on you.”
“What do you want of me?” asked Tiuri.
The stranger leant close and whispered in his ear, “I have a letter here, with a message of vital importance. One might even say that the fate of an entire kingdom depends on it. It is a letter for King Unauwen.”
King Unauwen! Tiuri had heard that name many times before. He reigned over the land to the west of the mountains, and was renowned as a noble and just ruler.
“This letter must be taken across the Great Mountains to the king in the City of Unauwen,” said the stranger. “As quickly as possible.”
“You don’t expect me…” Tiuri began.
“No,” said the stranger, interrupting him. “The man who shall deliver the letter is the Black Knight with the White Shield. At this moment, he is in the forest, at the Yikarvara Inn. What I need you to do is to take this letter to him. I cannot do so myself, as I am old and there are enemies all around, who are pursuing me and who know my face.”
“Why do you not ask someone else?” said Tiuri. “The city is full of knights right now, and there must be plenty of men you can trust.”
“I cannot ask any of those knights,” responded the stranger. “They would attract too much attention. Did I not tell you that there are enemies everywhere? Spies are lying in wait throughout the city, just looking for an opportunity to steal this letter. A famous knight is no good to me. I need someone who is unknown and who will go unnoticed. But at the same time I must be able to trust him with this letter. In other words, I am looking for someone who is a knight and yet not a knight! You are the one I need. You have been found worthy of being knighted tomorrow, but you are still young and have no reputation for your valiant deeds. And yet I know I can trust you.”
Tiuri could find no argument to counter his words. He tried again to make out the stranger’s features, but it was still too dark. “So this letter is of great importance?” he said.
“Of more importance than you could ever imagine!” whispered the stranger. “Come, you must hesitate no longer,” he continued, his voice trembling. “We’re wasting too much time! Near this place, behind the chapel, there is a horse in a meadow. If you take it, you can be at the inn within three hours – sooner if you ride quickly. It is about quarter past one now. You can be back by seven, when King Dagonaut’s men will come to fetch you. Please, do as I ask!”
Tiuri knew he could not refuse. The rules that a future knight had to follow were important, but this appeal for his assistance seemed to matter even more.
“I will do it,” he said. “Give me the letter and tell me how to find the inn.”
“My thanks!” sighed the stranger. He quickly continued, in a whisper, “The place where he is to be found is called the Yikarvara Inn. Do you know King Dagonaut’s hunting lodge? Behind it, there is a track that heads north-west. Ride along it until you reach a clearing in the forest. Two paths run on from there. Take the left-hand path and it will lead you to the inn. As for the letter, you must promise me on your honour as a knight that you will guard it as you would your own life and give it to no one other than the Black Knight with the White Shield.”
“I am not yet a knight,” said Tiuri, “but if I were, I would promise it on my honour as a knight.”
“Good. If someone tries to steal the letter, you must destroy it, but only if it is absolutely necessary. Understood?”
“Understood,” said Tiuri.
“And mark this well: when you find the Black Knight with the White Shield, you must ask him: Why is your shield white? And he will respond: Because white contains every colour. Then he will ask you: Where do you come from? You must answer: I come from afar. Only after that exchange should you hand over the letter.”
“Like a password,” said Tiuri.
“Exactly. A password. Do you understand exactly what you need to do?”
“Yes,” said Tiuri. “Please give me the letter.”
“One last thing,” said the stranger. “Be careful. You must make sure that you are not followed. Here is the letter; guard it well.”
Tiuri took the letter. It was small and flat and he could feel, in the darkness, that there were seals on it. He slipped it under his shirt, close to his chest.
“You won’t lose it if you keep it there, will you?” asked the stranger.
“No,” Tiuri replied. “That’s the safest place.”
The stranger grasped his hands and shook them firmly. “Then go,” he said. “And God bless you!” He let go of Tiuri’s hands, turned around and slipped back into the darkness.
Tiuri waited for a moment and then walked, quickly and quietly, in the opposite direction. He looked over at the dimly lit windows of the chapel, where his friends were still keeping their vigil before the altar. “Come on,” he whispered to himself, “You have to hurry.”
And he went in search of the meadow where the stranger had told him he would find a horse waiting.
3 THE RIDE TO THE INN
It was a beautiful summer’s night and the sky was full of stars. Tiuri found the horse behind the chapel, as the stranger had said he would. It was tied to a fence, but it had neither bridle nor saddle.
It’s just as well I’ve ridden bareback before, he thought, as he undid the rope, his fingers trembling slightly. The rope was tightly fastened with lots of knots and he wished he had brought his knife. In fact, he had no weapons with him at all, as he had left everything behind in the chapel.
The horse whinnied quietly, but it sounded so loud in the stillness of the night. Tiuri glanced around. His eyes had become accustomed to the darkness and he could see a building nearby, probably the house of the farmer who owned the meadow.
Finally, Tiuri managed to get the rope untied.
“Come on, horse,” he whispered. “Come with me.”
The animal whinnied again. A dog barked and a light shone out from the farmhouse. Tiuri climbed up onto the horse and clicked his tongue. “Come on!” The horse slowly started walking.
“Hey!” someone shouted. “Who’s there?”
Tiuri wasn’t about to answer him.
The barking grew loud and fierce, as a man dashed out of the farmhouse with a lantern in his hand. “Thief!” he shouted. “Stop right there! Jian, Marten, get out here! A thief’s making off with my horse!”
Tiuri gasped. A thief? He hadn’t meant to steal anything. But there was no time to lose. He leant forward and urged the horse on. The animal started trotting.
“Faster!” Tiuri whispered urgently. “Faster!”
Behind them, there was a commotion of shouting, yelling and furious barking. The horse flattened its ears and ran off as fast as the wind.
I’m sorry I had to borrow your horse, Tiuri imagined himself saying to the poor farmer, who was still shouting after him. I’m not really stealing it. I promise to bring it back soon.
When he looked back, the farmhouse was already a long way behind him and there was no sign of anyone following. All the same, he kept racing onwards at the same speed.
Tiuri thought the stranger really should have mentioned that the horse belonged to someone else, no matter how important the letter was and how secret its contents were. He reined in the horse and checked that the precious document was safe. Yes, there it was, still in the same place. He looked around cautiously, remembering that the stranger had mentioned that enemies might be on the lookout. But Tiuri saw no one. He gazed back towards the city, which was almost completely in darkness, and looked up at the chapel, dimly visible on the hillside, small and white.
Then he rode towards the forest.
The forest was not far from the City of Dagonaut. It covered a large area and there were places within it where no human had ever set foot. Tiuri knew the way to the lodge, as he had hunted in the king’s retinue on many occasions.
It was much darker in the forest, but the road was wide, so he could keep riding at a quick pace. Now and then, he slowed the horse and took a good look around. He saw no one, but he felt as if the forest was full of men lurking and spying on him, just waiting to attack.
He reached the hunting lodge without incident and had no trouble finding the track that the stranger had mentioned. It was narrow and winding, which forced him to ride more slowly.
I hope I’ll be back in time, he thought. Just imagine not being there when the king’s knights come to fetch us for the ceremony! But the stranger said I should be able to reach the inn in three hours.
He thought about the Black Knight with the White Shield, the man to whom he was supposed to give the letter. He had never heard that knight’s name before. Who was he? Where did he come from? None of King Dagonaut’s knights wore those colours, so he was probably one of King Unauwen’s men. Why he was here, so far from his own country, was a mystery. Tiuri had heard stories from travellers who had met Unauwen’s knights. They sometimes rode along the Great Southern Road on their way to Eviellan, the hostile land on the other side of the Grey River, where one of Unauwen’s sons ruled.
Tiuri wondered how long he had been riding. An hour? That would make it quarter past two. Maybe it was even later than that – it seemed such a long time since he’d been kneeling in the chapel and had heard the voice asking him to open the door.
There were more hills now and the track went up and down. The horse seemed able to see better in the dark than Tiuri. Sure of foot, it kept on going.
The forest was quiet at night, but not as quiet as the chapel. Tiuri could hear all sorts of strange, soft noises, probably animals. There was the sound of leaves rustling, and the steps of the horse, and dry twigs and branches snapping as he rode by. Something flew into his face and gave him a fright, but it was just a moth or some other insect.
The track led uphill again, and the sky was growing lighter. The trees and undergrowth became less dense. I must be close to the clearing now, Tiuri thought.
And indeed, he soon came to a treeless glade. It had to be the place that the stranger had mentioned. Tiuri knew he should take the path to the left.
As he rode across the clearing, he heard more noises, noises that were unlike anything he’d heard so far during his ride. Horses neighing and the clatter of hoofs!
From his high vantage point, he could see out over the forest and, in the distance, he made out dark figures and the gleam of weapons. A group of horsemen was passing swiftly through the forest.
Tiuri retreated to the trees, wondering who the horsemen were and what they were doing in the forest in the middle of the night. When he finally ventured back out into the clearing, there was neither sight nor sound of the riders. It was as though he had been dreaming. However, he did not stay there puzzling about it for long, but took the path to the left, which led down from the clearing.
The path was not a clear track, but more like an overgrown trail. Tiuri sighed, because it was going to slow him down even more. He was soon forced to dismount and lead the horse on foot, following the path one hesitant step at a time and constantly worrying that he would lose his way altogether. Branches whipped at Tiuri’s face, and the dew on the long grass soaked his feet and legs.
Tiuri kept wondering about the time. The path was so tricky to navigate that he feared he would not get back to the chapel by seven o’clock.
By then, the sky was much lighter and, here and there, birds were starting to sing.
Tiuri was relieved when the path finally improved and he could climb back onto his horse.
In the grey moment just before daybreak, he came upon another clearing. A small wooden building stood in the middle – it had to be the inn.
4 THE YIKARVARA INN
Tiuri climbed down from his horse, tied it to a tree, and ran to the inn. It was silent and dark, and all of the doors and windows were closed. He rapped the knocker on the front door; it made a loud, resounding bang that was sure to wake up everyone within. But no one answered. He rattled the door, but it was locked. Impatiently, he banged the knocker again. This time, a window opened upstairs. A man wearing a nightcap leant out and asked in a sleepy voice what Tiuri wanted.
“Is this the Yikarvara Inn?” asked Tiuri.
“Yes, this is it,” the man replied. “Did you really need to wake me to ask that, and probably my guests too? We’ve had little enough rest tonight!”
“Are you the innkeeper?” asked Tiuri. “I’d like to speak to one of your guests.”
“In the middle of the night?” spluttered the man. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, young man! You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“This is important!” Tiuri said in an urgent tone. “Please… don’t close the window.”
The man leant out further. “Who are you?” he asked. “And who do you want to speak to?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” Tiuri said. “I’m looking for the Black Knight with the White Shield.”
The man made a strange noise. Tiuri couldn’t quite tell whether it was anger or surprise. Either way, all traces of sleepiness had gone from his voice when he answered. “Wait there a moment, I’m coming down.” The head disappeared from the window, and soon Tiuri heard the bolts of the door sliding aside. Then the door opened and the man was standing there, wearing a nightshirt and carrying a candle.
“Well, then,” he said, looking Tiuri up and down. “Yes, I’m the innkeeper. And now you can tell me why you’ve got me out of bed.”
“I’ve come to see the Black Knight with the White Shield,” answered Tiuri. “I have to speak to him immediately.”
“You’re the second one tonight,” said the innkeeper. “But you won’t be able to speak to him right now.”
“Can’t you wake him up?” said Tiuri.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” the innkeeper said again. “The Black Knight with the White Shield isn’t here. He left earlier tonight.”
Tiuri gasped. “No!” he said. “He can’t have done!”
“And why not?” the innkeeper responded calmly.
“Where did he go? Quickly, tell me!” said Tiuri.
“If I knew, I’d tell you,” replied the innkeeper. “But I don’t have a clue.” He seemed to have realized how anxious Tiuri was, because he added, “He should be back before long, at least if he’s as good a knight as he seems to be. What is it that you need to say to him so urgently?”
“I can’t tell you that,” said Tiuri. “But it’s urgent. Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“Again, if I knew, I’d tell you,” said the innkeeper, “but I don’t know that either. In fact, I don’t know anything at all about that knight. It’s a strange business.” He scratched his head so hard that his nightcap fell off.
“You must know something!” said Tiuri. “When did he leave and why? And which way did he go?”
“That’s too many questions at once,” said the innkeeper. He slowly stooped to pick up his cap. “Come in,” he said. “I’m not keen on this damp morning air. It’s not good for my stiff joints.”
When they were inside, he placed his candle on the table and put his nightcap back on. Tiuri asked impatiently, “So which way did the Black Knight go?”
“He got here yesterday morning,” said the innkeeper. “Bit of a peculiar fellow. Not that I doubt he’s a brave knight, oh no. In fact, he was most impressive. He was all alone. Didn’t even have a squire with him! He was wearing a pitch-black suit of armour, but the shield on his arm was as white as snow. He’d lowered his black visor and he didn’t raise it when he asked me for a room, or when he came into the inn. Well, I gave him a room, of course, and later in the day I took some food to the room, as he’d requested. I thought I’d see his face then, but no! He’d taken off his armour, including his helmet, but he was wearing a black silk mask, and all I could see were his eyes. Don’t you think that’s strange? He must have taken some kind of vow. Would you know anything about that?”
“Which way did he go?” Tiuri asked again.
The innkeeper looked a little irritated, but he continued. “I was just coming to that,” he said. “At about one or two in the morning, when I was already in bed, there was a loud knocking at the door. I looked out of the window and saw another black knight! ‘Open the door!’ he shouted. ‘Is the Black Knight with the White Shield within?’ Well, I told him that he was here, but I said it was a little late. And then this knight yelled at me to open the door or he said he’d knock it down. So I flew downstairs and opened the door. The knight was dressed in a pitch-black suit of armour too, but he had a shield that was as red as blood. Then he just barked at me! ‘Where is the Black Knight with the White Shield?’ he said. I told him he was asleep and he ordered me to wake him up. Said he had to speak to him and that I should be quick about it! Well, to be honest, he gave me a bit of a fright. But my guest was already coming down the stairs. He was dressed in his black armour and his helmet, and his visor was down. He was carrying his weapons and had the white shield on his arm. The Black Knight with the Red Shield walked towards him and then stopped, and they stood there, facing each other, right here in this very room. The Knight with the Red Shield pulled off his glove and tossed it onto the floor at the other man’s feet. The Knight with the White Shield picked it up and said, ‘When?’ And the Knight with the Red Shield said, ‘Now!’”
The innkeeper stopped to catch his breath before finishing his tale, “And then, without saying another word, the two of them marched out of here and rode off together, into the forest.”
“To fight a duel,” said Tiuri.
“Yes, that’s what I thought too,” said the innkeeper. “And neither of them has returned as yet.”
“So they left at about two?” asked Tiuri. “And what time is it now?”
“Half four, or thereabouts,” said the innkeeper. “The sun’s coming up.”
“Which direction did they ride in?” asked Tiuri.
The innkeeper went outside with Tiuri and pointed out the path they had taken. “But I don’t know where exactly they were going,” he said.
“I’ll try to follow their trail,” said Tiuri. “Thank you!” And before the innkeeper could ask any questions, Tiuri had run to his horse, jumped on and ridden away.
5 THE BLACK KNIGHT WITH THE WHITE SHIELD
The sky in the east glowed pink and orange; the sun was about to come up. The birds were chirping and whistling and twittering away, as if they were delighted to greet the beautiful day that was dawning. Tiuri, however, was not at all happy. He was annoyed because it was so late and he still had not delivered the letter. How was he ever going to get back to the chapel in time? But he carried on riding along the trail that the two Black Knights had left. He had promised to take the letter and he did not want to break that promise. But that didn’t stop him from grumbling and muttering to himself. He cursed the Black Knight with the Red Shield for challenging the Black Knight with the White Shield, and he resented the Knight with the White Shield for accepting the challenge. And he cursed both of them for riding straight through the forest instead of leaving clear tracks on a proper path.
It must be five by now, he thought. It’s already light. Where on earth have they got to?
He thought about how surprised Dagonaut’s knights would be when they arrived at the chapel to find he wasn’t there. And what would the king think when he found out Tiuri had run away on the night before the ceremony? And what about his friends and his parents, and everyone else? But he remembered the stranger’s words and sighed; he knew there was no other way he could have reacted. Then, with a jolt, he realized that he had lost the trail.
He was in a clearing. The sandy ground was churned up with hoofmarks and footprints… but which ones belonged to the two knights?
Tiuri quickly glanced all around. It seemed as if an entire troop of horsemen had passed this way, perhaps the men he had seen earlier that night. They had raced through the forest, trampling plants and snapping branches. The trail of the two knights was lost.
He decided to go in the direction that the troop of riders had come from, as they’d left a clearly visible path. As he rode on, Tiuri wondered if these horsemen had anything to do with the two Black Knights. Although it was light now, he shivered. He felt more anxious than he’d been at any point in his adventure so far.
Tiuri continued on his way for a while before hearing a sound, a quiet, anxious whinny. Then he spotted a horse tied to a tree. It was a beautiful black horse, with a simple harness, and it looked at him with sad dark eyes and whinnied once again.
Tiuri gently stroked the horse’s nose and whispered, “You just wait there and I’ll go and see where your master is. I think he must be somewhere nearby. Is that right?”
He rode on and then, between the trees, he spotted something lying on the pale green grass. Something that was black and white and red… His breath caught in his throat, but he leapt quickly from his horse and ran over to take a look.
A man was lying on the ground, clad in a black suit of armour that was damaged and dented. The shield beside him was white, and the red that Tiuri had seen was blood. Tiuri had found the Black Knight with the White Shield, but the man was wounded… or worse.
Tiuri knelt down beside him. Although the knight was clearly injured, he was still breathing. He was not wearing a helmet now, but his face was covered with a black mask. Tiuri felt himself trembling as he stared down at him, but then he pulled himself together. He had to do something, to find out the extent of his injuries, to stop the bleeding somehow.
Then the knight moved and whispered, “Who are you?”
Tiuri leant over him. “Please do not move, sir knight,” he said. “I am here to help. Are you in pain?”
He could see that the knight was looking at him through his mask. “I do not know you,” he said in a weak voice, “but I am glad someone has found me before I die. Do not worry about my wounds; there is nothing that can be done.”
“You must not say that,” said Tiuri, and he carefully started to remove the knight’s armour.
“Do not trouble yourself,” whispered the knight. “I know that I am dying.”
Tiuri feared he was right. Yet he continued with his attempts to alleviate the injured man’s suffering, tearing a strip of fabric from his robe and bandaging the wounds as well as he could.
“Thank you,” whispered the knight. “Who are you and what has brought you to this place?”
“My name is Tiuri. Shall I fetch some water for you? Perhaps you would like something to drink.”
“There is no need,” said the knight. “Tiuri… I know that name. Are you related to Tiuri the Valiant?”
“He is my father,” said Tiuri.
“And what are you doing here?” asked the knight.
“I… I came here to find you… I am so sorry that…”
“You came to find me?” said the Black Knight. “You are here on my account? Thank the Lord! Then perhaps it is not too late…” He looked at Tiuri with eyes that gleamed behind his black mask and said, “Do you have something for me?”
“Yes, sir knight,” Tiuri replied. “A letter.”
“I knew my squire would find a messenger,” said the knight with a sigh. “Wait a moment,” he continued, as Tiuri reached for the letter. “Is there not a question that you wish to ask me?”
Tiuri remembered the words he needed to say. “Why… Why is your shield white?” he stammered.
“Because white contains every colour,” the knight responded. His voice sounded much stronger. It was a voice that inspired Tiuri with great confidence. Then the knight asked, “Where do you come from?”
“I come from afar,” answered Tiuri.
“Now show me the letter,” the knight ordered. “But first make sure no one is spying on us.”
Tiuri looked around the area. “I see no one nearby,” he said. “Just our horses.” He took out the letter and showed it to the knight. “Oh, sir knight,” he blurted out, “I am so sorry you were defeated in the duel!”
“Duel?” said the injured man. “That was no duel! I remain unvanquished by any one man. The Black Knight with the Red Shield lured me into an ambush. His Red Riders leapt out and attacked me in large numbers.”
Tiuri gasped. “That is disgraceful!” he said.
“But they did not find what they were looking for,” said the knight. “They wanted to destroy not only me, but also the letter, the one you just showed me! Conceal it well – and then I will tell you what you must do with it. But first tell me, Tiuri, how did you come to have this letter?”
Tiuri told him all that happened.
“Good,” whispered the knight. He fell silent for a few moments. “Do not look so worried,” he said kindly. Tiuri could tell that he was smiling beneath his mask and he wished he knew what the knight’s face looked like.
“Listen to me,” the knight said. “I must keep this brief, because I have little time. This letter is for King Unauwen and it is of the utmost importance. Now that I can no longer deliver it, you must do so!”
“Me?” whispered Tiuri.
“Yes, I know of no one who could do it better. You are perfectly capable and I have every faith in you. You must leave immediately. Enough time has been lost already. Journey westwards, first through the forest, and then along the Blue River, until you reach its source. There is a hermit who lives there, Menaures. Take this ring from my finger. When you show it to Menaures, he will know it was I who sent you. He will help you to cross the mountains, because you will not be able to do it alone. Once you are on the other side of the mountains, the road will lead you to Unauwen.” The knight raised his hand and said, “Here, take my ring. I know I am asking much of you, but I am sure you are the right person for this task.”
Tiuri carefully removed the ring from the knight’s finger. “I want to do it,” he said, “but I do not know…”
“You must do it,” said the knight. “But I do not deny that it will be difficult. You already know I have enemies who are after this letter. Many dangers will threaten you along the way. So you must keep your mission secret. Tell no one about it. And give this letter to King Unauwen alone.”
“What… what does the letter say?” asked Tiuri, as he slowly slipped the ring onto his own finger.
“That is a secret,” answered the knight. “You must not open the letter. But if you fear that you will lose the letter, then – and only then – you may open it and commit its message to memory, so that you may pass it on to King Unauwen. Then you must destroy the letter itself. But do so only as a final resort.” The knight gasped and fell silent. Then, in a much weaker voice, he asked, “Will you take the letter?”
“Yes, sir knight,” Tiuri replied.
“Promise me this on your honour as a knight,” he whispered.
“I swear on my honour as a knight,” said Tiuri. “Except,” he added, “I am not yet a knight.”
“But you will become one,” said the knight. “Please, would you remove my mask? A knight must always face Death with an open visor.”
Hands shaking, Tiuri did as he was asked. And when he saw the Black Knight’s calm and noble face, he felt moved to grasp his hand and swore to deliver the letter safely. “And,” he said, “I shall find your murderers and take vengeance on them!”
“That is not your task,” whispered the knight. “You have only to serve as my messenger.”
The knight closed his eyes. His fingers twitched in Tiuri’s hand and then were still. Tiuri looked at him and gently released his hand. He knew the knight was dead and he was deeply saddened, even though they had only just met. Tiuri buried his face in his hands and prayed for the man’s soul.
6 RED RIDERS
Tiuri stood up and took one last look at the peaceful face of the Black Knight with the White Shield, before turning around and walking slowly back to his horse. Now he had to carry out the task that the knight had given him, and deliver the letter to King Unauwen in the land to the west of the Great Mountains.
He stopped beside the horse and considered his course of action. He could not return to the City of Dagonaut, because that would take too long. He would also have to explain what had happened and that would not be possible, as his mission had to remain a secret. And yet somehow he had to send a message to the city, to his parents, so that they would not be worried and go in search of him. He also had to ensure that the Knight with the White Shield had a decent burial and that everyone knew who had murdered him. The best thing I can do, he thought, is ride back to the inn. I can tell the innkeeper that the Knight with the White Shield is dead and ask him to send word to the city.
And soon, he was on his way, feeling a lot older and more serious than he had just a short time before. After a while, he heard someone approaching, and a man on horseback appeared, travelling towards him. He was equipped for battle, with helmet and chainmail, lance and sword. His tabard, shield and the feathers on his helmet were as red as blood. One of the Red Riders! thought Tiuri. He remembered then that he was unarmed. Even so, he rode on calmly and acted as though everything was normal.
The Red Rider moved aside to let Tiuri pass. Tiuri rode by, his heart pounding, and as he came alongside the horseman, the man spoke. “Ho, friend,” he said. “What are you doing so early in the forest? Where did you come from and where are you bound?”
“That is my concern,” Tiuri answered brusquely. “I bid you good morning.”
Tiuri rode on, expecting to feel a weapon in his back at any moment. However, nothing happened. He breathed out again, but dared not look around or quicken his pace. Then he heard the man shout something, but he could not make out what he said. Tiuri looked around to see that a second Red Rider had joined the first. Both men were looking at him. One of them gave another shout. Tiuri heard an answer, far away. He was growing uneasy and he made his horse go faster.
Soon he realized that the Red Riders were following him!
He urged his tired horse to go even faster, as he knew the inn could not be far. But then another Red Rider appeared on his right and barked at him to stop. Before Tiuri could respond, a fourth horseman came up on the other side, and Tiuri had to pull hard on his horse’s reins to avoid him.
Tiuri knew he was going to have to make a run for it. Suddenly, the entire forest seemed to be full of Red Riders, and they were all after him. They chased Tiuri, yelling at him to stop. But of course Tiuri did nothing of the kind. He swerved from the path and raced into a dense part of the forest, in a desperate attempt to shake off his pursuers.
Tiuri had no idea how long he raced onwards, uphill and downhill, ploughing through bushes and thorny undergrowth, with the shouts and yells following after him. He only knew that he didn’t want to be murdered like the Black Knight with the White Shield.
After some time, he looked back and saw that he had gained a lead, but he knew he could not keep it for long. His horse was tired, the forest was difficult to ride through, and there were so many pursuers. But then he had a bright idea. He jumped off his horse and slapped its hindquarters. As the horse ran off one way, Tiuri raced in the opposite direction and shinned up a tree as fast as he could. He sat high up in the branches, safely hidden among the leaves, panting and trying to catch his breath as he waited to see what would happen.
A group of men rode past beneath the tree, but they did not notice him. Then he heard more shouts, but the voices were in the distance, so he dared to move into a more comfortable position. However, he still did not climb down the tree, because he was scared they might come back.
Tiuri stayed up in his tree for a good while, but the Red Riders did not return. The forest seemed so calm and peaceful and it was almost impossible to believe that the past few hours had been so eventful.
Tiuri looked around and then carefully took out the letter so that he could take a closer look. There was nothing remarkable about the letter: it was small, white and flat, and there were no words written on the outside. He studied the three seals; each had a crown on it, but there was nothing else to indicate the importance of the letter. As he tucked it away again, he realized that it must be around seven o’clock. He leant back against the trunk and closed his eyes. Dagonaut’s knights must be blowing their horns outside the chapel door right at this very moment, he thought. And Arman, Foldo, Wilmo and Jussipo are standing up and going over to open the door. He pictured the knights standing outside the chapel and heard them say, “Good morning. King Dagonaut requires your presence. Take up your swords and your shields and come with us.” He tried to imagine what would happen after that, but his thoughts wandered. The next image that came into his mind was the Black Knight with the White Shield saying to him, “You have only to serve as my messenger.”
Tiuri opened his eyes. The chapel seemed so far away and the vigil long ago. It had nothing to do with him now. He looked down. It must be safe by now, he thought. He climbed down the tree and cautiously made his way through the forest, glancing around at every unexpected sound.
Soon, he had a pleasant surprise: he came across his horse, quietly grazing.
“Good horse,” he said, climbing onto its back. “Let’s head back to the inn and you can eat your fill.” Then he gasped as he remembered that the horse did not belong to him. He had to return it to its owner somehow.
Tiuri started riding and, before long, without any further adventures, he arrived back at the inn.
7 A CLOSE SHAVE
The innkeeper was busily sweeping the floor. He was dressed now, but he still had his nightcap on. Two men were eating breakfast at one of the tables, beside an open window. When Tiuri came in, they all turned to stare.
“My goodness me!” exclaimed the innkeeper. “Whatever have you been up to?”
Tiuri realized how dishevelled he must look. His white robe was stained and torn from his adventures of the previous night, and his hair was wild and unkempt. He realized, too, that he was covered in scratches and cuts after his escape from the Red Riders.
“Did you find the Black Knight?” asked the innkeeper.
“Yes. I found him,” Tiuri replied sombrely.
The innkeeper looked him up and down. Then his eyes rested on Tiuri’s left hand and the surprise on his face slowly gave way to suspicion.
Tiuri followed the man’s gaze and saw what he was staring at. The knight’s ring!
“Isn’t that ring…” the innkeeper began.
Tiuri interrupted the innkeeper. “The Black Knight with the White Shield is dead,” he said quietly.
“What’s that?” the innkeeper gasped. “Dead? So the Knight with the Red Shield won the duel?”
“There was no duel,” said Tiuri. “The Knight with the White Shield was murdered.”
“Oh, my goodness!” cried the innkeeper. “Murdered!”
“Please listen!” said Tiuri. “I have little time and what I have to say is of the greatest importance.”
The men at the table had stopped eating and were staring at Tiuri. One of them got up and said, “Has something happened to the Black Knight? The one who was here yesterday?”
Before Tiuri could reply, the door flew open and a voice yelled, “Whose is that horse in front of the inn?!”
Tiuri turned around. In the doorway stood a burly man with a red face, who glared angrily at each of them in turn. Tiuri did not recognize the man, but his voice sounded familiar.
“It belongs to this young man here,” said the man who was sitting at the table. “He just arrived on that horse.”
“That’s right,” said Tiuri. “It’s mine. Well, actually, it’s…” He fell silent. Suddenly he knew who the man in the doorway was. That voice… It was the horse’s owner!
The man came right up to Tiuri and roared in his face. “No, it most definitely isn’t yours! That horse is mine! And you are the thief who stole it last night!”
“Good sir,” said Tiuri, “I did not steal it! I only borrowed it for a while! Please forgive me, I was…”
But the man was too angry to listen. He grabbed Tiuri by the arm and growled, “Well, I’ve got you now, thief!” He turned to the others and said, “Followed his trail half the night, but then I lost it. I get to the inn and what do I see? My horse – and the thief along with it!”
Tiuri pulled himself free. “I am not a thief!” he shouted. “I was planning to return your property to you, as any honest man would. Listen. I can explain everything!”
“Fine words!” scoffed the man. “But I believe none of them!”
“But, my good sir…” began Tiuri.
“I’m not your good sir,” the man spat. “And I don’t like fine stories like the one you’re spinning now! You’re one of those lads who are all mouth and no morals!”
“Just let me explain!” cried Tiuri.
“You can explain to the sheriff,” said the man. “You’re coming with me to the city.”
