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- Herausgeber: Pushkin Children's Books
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
Tiuri returns in The Secrets of the Wild Wood, the thrilling and long-awaited sequel to The Letter for the King!'There's no place you can lose your way as quickly as in the Wild Wood...'One of the King's knights has gone missing. Sent to explore the mysterious Wild Wood, which no-one dares visit and some say are enchanted, he has vanished in the snow. Tiuri - now Sir Tiuri after carrying out his last perilous mission - has to find him.With his best friend and squire, Piak, he must journey into the heart of a terrifying, secret forest realm, where danger is all around and every path leads you astray. It is a place of lost, overgrown cities and ancient curses; of robbers, princesses and strange Men in Green; of old friends and treacherous new enemies - and a secret plot that threatens to bring down the entire kingdom.This gripping, spellbinding sequel to The Letter for the King sees a hero facing his greatest test, surrounded by darkness in a world where good and evil wear the same face, and the wrong move could cost his life - but where help comes from the unlikeliest of places.Tonke Dragt was born in 1930 in Indonesia. When she was twelve, she was imprisoned in a Japanese camp during the war, where she wrote her very first book using begged and borrowed paper. After the war, she and her family moved to the Netherlands, where she became an art teacher. In 1962 she published her most famous story, The Letter for the King, which won the Children's Book of the Year Award and has been translated into sixteen languages. Its sequel, The Secrets of the Wild Wood, followed in 1965. Dragt was awarded the State Prize for Youth Literature in 1976 and was knighted in 2001.
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CONTENTS
“The sun goes down in the sea, in the water,” said the Fool. “I shall tell my brothers, because they don’t know. Or is it a secret?”
“There are no more secrets now,” said Tiuri, as he walked to the cabin with the Fool.
The Fool stopped and wrinkled his brow. “No more secrets?” he said. “They call me the Fool, but I don’t believe that there are no more secrets left.”
Tiuri looked at him with new respect.
“Yes,” he said. “You’re right. I am free to tell my secret now, but of course there are still lots of other secrets. The secrets of the Wild Wood, for instance, and all kinds of other mysteries. Some of them we have never even heard about. And others we shall never understand.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” said the Fool.
The Letter for the King, Part Eight
Prologue
WINTER INTHE WOOD
The cawing of a crow broke the silence. The bird flew up to perch on a branch, a patch of black against all the white and grey. Snow came swirling down from the tree in a fine powder.
Sir Ristridin stopped, wrapped his cloak more closely around him and wondered if the crow had any significance for him. Was it a sign? A portent of danger? He wryly thought how much he had changed, that a bird could make him pause, nothing but a hungry creature in this bitterly cold winter.
It seemed like an age since King Dagonaut had summoned him and said, “I have heard strange rumours about the Wild Wood, about robbers and dangerous bands of men, about woodland spirits and Men in Green. I want you to investigate and find out which of those rumours are true – you, the trustiest of my knights-errant. And I need you to go there immediately, as many dangers in those parts could threaten our kingdom.”
Ristridin had ridden out, accompanied by Sir Arwaut and twenty men. Now he was walking through the forest on his own, but he knew he was not truly alone. He kept thinking about what his friend, Edwinem of Forèstèrra, had once said to him, “You must go to the Wild Wood, for a knight should know his own land, and that means all of King Dagonaut’s territory. I remember from the old stories that there was once a wide road leading through the forest to the west, to the Kingdom of Unauwen. Why did your people allow it to become overgrown? If you clear that road once again, if you cut it open, the creatures that shun the daylight will flee. It will also be another route between our two lands: the kingdoms of Unauwen and Dagonaut.”
Edwinem had been a knight in the service of Unauwen, the noble king who ruled the lands to the west of the Great Mountains. He had been murdered by the Red Riders – not here, but in another forest. Red Riders from Eviellan, the dark land to the south… Unauwen and Eviellan were at war, even though the ruler of Eviellan was actually a son of King Unauwen – his youngest son, yet his greatest enemy. Edwinem had fought in that war, but in the end he had been treacherously slain, within the sovereign territory of King Dagonaut.
The flapping of wings stirred Ristridin from his thoughts. The crow flew away, and Ristridin walked slowly onwards. The snow crunched beneath his feet, and small branches and twigs cracked and snapped as he passed. There were no other sounds to be heard. He felt like a traveller in the Land of the Dead. This was the Wild Wood, where Dagonaut ruled, though the king himself had never set foot inside the forest and did not know what secrets it concealed. And what will become of me? thought Ristridin. Now that I have discovered those secrets, will I ever get out of here alive and tell others what I know?
Somewhere out there were villages and cities, houses and castles, where people lived in peace and quiet, ignorant of such wildernesses as this. Ristridin wondered if he would ever reach those places. I must! he thought, but he felt tired and old.
Again he stopped. He saw footprints in the snow. Lots of footprints! Others had passed straight across the track in front of him…
But he was alone. Where was he now? It had been many days since Ristridin had crossed the Black River, and he had been wandering for a long time. He had beaten a path through thorny bushes and tangled branches, in snow, in mist and ice. Islan should lie somewhere to the east of him now, not too far away – Islan, the lonely castle on the open plain, surrounded by forests. That was where he planned to go.
Who had left those fresh footprints in the snow? Was he already that close to Islan? Or had he taken a wrong turn? Was he lost? He looked up and saw a web of bare branches and twigs, with the silvery sky between them.
As Ristridin walked on, he felt as if he were being followed and watched. His lean face was grim and alert, and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He sought the way to Castle Islan.
Castle Islan… where the civilized world began. If Ristridin reached the castle, he would be able to travel onwards from there. Then he would once more ride a horse; then he would see his friends again.
He had made a promise, an agreement with his friends. In the spring they would meet at Castle Ristridin by the Grey River, the home of his forefathers. His friends were all knights – no, one of them had not yet been knighted, but perhaps by now the ceremony had taken place. Tiuri, son of Tiuri, had proven himself worthy of becoming a knight by successfully completing his mysterious mission: taking a most important letter to King Unauwen.
PART ONE
SIR IDIAN
1 TRAVEL PLANS
Sir Tiuri rode Ardanwen, his black horse, down the muddy path beside the Blue River. Not so long ago, its surface had been covered with ice floes, but now the water could flow freely once again. The river was high and tumbled along. Far away, in the mountains, the snow must be melting. Tiuri raised his head and took a deep breath. Although the air was still cold, it felt different today. The fields and trees to his right were still bare, but the birds swooped happily through the sky above, because they knew it too: winter was over! Soon travellers would be setting out along roads and tracks. Tiuri himself was keen to be off on a journey and to leave Tehuri, his father’s estate, where he had spent the past few months.
He gazed into the distance, towards the south. There, some days’ journey away, was Deltaland, a marshy country situated around the mouth of a river. To the west of that land lay Eviellan, a realm that was ruled by a wicked man. Tiuri had no desire to travel to that particular place. But on the Grey River, which formed the border with Eviellan, was a castle he had often thought about, even though he had never been there: Castle Ristridin, the ancestral home of the knight-errant who shared its name, Ristridin of the South. Sir Ristridin had headed into the Wild Wood in the autumn of the previous year, but in spring he would return to his castle, to meet up with his friends once again, and he had invited Tiuri to join them.
Tiuri reined in his horse and spoke out loud, “And I mean to go there. As soon as possible. Tomorrow!”
Ardanwen twitched his fine ears as if he understood what his young master was saying. Tiuri patted the horse’s neck. “Are you longing to roam the land again too, like you used to?” he whispered. “Like Sir Edwinem?” And Tiuri thought to himself: I want to be a knight-errant, too. Later, when Father’s old, I shall live at Tehuri. I’ll always return here. It’s my home, after all. But I want to see more of the world before then. And who knows? Perhaps King Dagonaut will have need of me, and I will be able to prove myself worthy of being his knight.
Tiuri turned his horse and rode back to Castle Tehuri, which he could already see ahead of him in the distance.
Before long, Tiuri was riding over the drawbridge, which was kept lowered in this time of peace. The gatekeepers welcomed him back to the castle. The two Tiuris, father and son, were dearly loved. The elder Tiuri was known as “Sir Tiuri the Valiant”, a name he had earned long ago, in days of war. His son was the youngest of Dagonaut’s knights, and the only one who was allowed to carry a white shield; that was because of the great service he had performed for Unauwen, the ruler of the kingdom in the west.
As Tiuri jumped down from his horse in the courtyard, a boy of around fifteen came running over to him. It was Piak, his best friend, who was also his squire.
“Hey, Tiuri!” Piak called. “Where have you been? I was playing chess with your father and when I looked up, you’d disappeared!”
“I had to get out for a while,” Tiuri replied, “and so did Ardanwen. The weather’s changed.”
He led the horse into the stable. That was a job he always did himself. No one else was allowed to touch Ardanwen, except for Piak.
“Yes. I could smell a change in the air too,” said Piak, walking alongside him. “I went up to the top of the tallest turret, and everything smelt so different and new.”
Tiuri smiled. Piak was still fond of high places, even though it was just castle towers now instead of the mountains that were his home.
“So now we can set off on our journey,” Tiuri said.
“Journey? Journey? Now? Nonsense!” said Waldo, the old stable master. “What utter nonsense!” he repeated. “March is far too cold to travel. And April’s too unpredictable. You really should wait until May.”
“But May might be too mild,” said Tiuri with a smile.
“And June could be too sunny,” Piak added.
Waldo shook his grey head. “You young people are always in such a hurry,” he said. “Hasty, reckless, never content to be where you are.” He looked sternly at the two young men, his master’s son and the boy’s best friend. It was not a fitting way to address a knight and his squire, but they would always be children to the stable master, who had known Tiuri’s father since he was just a little boy. “At least wait until the first day of spring,” he continued. “You’ve only just returned home. Why would you want to run the risk of getting lost, breaking your neck, being murdered by brigands, or catching a cold and getting rheumatism from sleeping by the roadside?”
“But Waldo,” said Tiuri with a smile, “you’d grumble even more if we stayed at home and never rode out at all.”
Waldo grunted, but his eyes were friendly. “That’s as may be,” he said. “But you should know, Tiuri, son of Tiuri, that there’s no need to go out searching for adventure. If it’s your destiny, adventure will find you. Before you know it, you’ll be in all sorts of trouble that you never asked for!”
“You’re probably right,” said Tiuri. “But we’re not just riding out on a whim. Sir Ristridin of the South invited me to come to his castle in the spring.”
“Sir Ristridin doesn’t have a castle, does he?” said Waldo. “I thought he was a knight-errant, without lands and possessions.”
“That’s true,” replied Tiuri. “The lord of the castle is actually Sir Arturin, Ristridin’s brother, but it’s also Ristridin’s home, whenever he stops to rest from his travels.”
“Some men are fools, handing over their castles to others, just so they can go wandering about,” said the old man in his usual grumpy tone. “Fine then, so it’s Sir Arturin’s castle. And that’s where you’re going? You and your friend?”
“My first journey as a squire,” said Piak. His brown eyes sparkled at the thought of the adventures he might have. “And it’s not far from the Great Mountains,” he added longingly.
“It’s even closer to the Wild Wood,” said Waldo. “Well, I suppose it’s your decision. We have a wood here, too, and it’s far more beautiful and agreeable than that dangerous forest. Let’s just hope Sir Ristridin has made it back in one piece.”
When Tiuri had been knighted, after his journey to the Kingdom of Unauwen, King Dagonaut had told him he would not call upon his services for a while. First he should return home with his parents, to Castle Tehuri, and take some time to recover. Tiuri didn’t think he needed any, but he was keen to go home, as he hadn’t been there for so long. Piak went with him, of course. At Tehuri, Tiuri and his father taught Piak a great deal about everything a squire needs to know. Tiuri’s parents had become very fond of him and treated him like their own son.
Tiuri had also learnt a lot. His father took him riding around his estate, preparing him for the day when Tiuri would take charge of the castle and surrounding countryside.
Autumn had flown by. In the winter, the cold, with its snow and frost, had often kept the residents of Tehuri inside the keep. It had been a quiet few months. Hardly any travellers had ridden over the drawbridge to request hospitality, and there had been very little news from the outside world. The young men had not been bored, though. In spite of the icy weather, they still went outside, and there was always something to do indoors. Tiuri and his father played chess together, for instance, and Piak had also learnt how to play, but he never managed to beat his friend. Tiuri was a skilful opponent and a match for his father.
Yet in those winter months, a feeling of restlessness sometimes came over Tiuri. He was Sir Tiuri now, but nothing happened in peaceful Tehuri that might put him to the test.
He would think back to his journey to the Kingdom of Unauwen to the west of the Great Mountains. It was so hard to reconcile all that he had learnt and experienced on that journey with the facts of his everyday life at Tehuri. Far away, in the west, Unauwen’s knights could be waging a fierce battle against their enemies from Eviellan. He had no idea what was happening, as news from that part of the world never reached Castle Tehuri.
Sometimes he was struck by a sudden longing for the City of Unauwen and the Rainbow River, and for the other places he had visited. His thoughts turned to far-off Mistrinaut too, where Lady Lavinia lived. When would he see her again?
There were other people he was keen to see, like Sir Ristridin, who had ridden with Arwaut and his men to the Wild Wood, because of the strange stories that were told about that place.
And now that he could feel spring in the air, Tiuri was more certain than ever that he wanted to do as he had once resolved and travel the land as a knight-errant, like Ristridin. His first step would be to accept Ristridin’s invitation and to go to the castle by the Grey River. Piak would go with him, of course. He felt the same way as Tiuri.
2 CASTLE RISTRIDIN
Now Sir Tiuri was riding along the Grey River, on Ardanwen, of course, the black horse whose name meant Night Wind in the old language of the Kingdom of Unauwen. The young knight had a helmet on his head and a sword hanging at his side, and the tunic over his armour was blue and gold, the colours of Tehuri. His shield, though, was white, like those of the knights from the west. Tiuri was proud of that shield and so he had taken it on his journey.
Piak rode beside him, on a horse as brown as his own hair. Anyone who had known him before, when he still lived up in the mountains, would hardly have recognized him now that he was a squire.
Old Waldo had been proved right; the weather had stayed cold, and that had not made their journey any easier. But now their goal was close. They saw castles and strongholds on both sides of the river, “watching and spying on one another”, as Piak put it. The water was all that separated them from Eviellan, the land of the evil Red Riders, where the knights carried shields of black or red. They had seen no sign of any inhabitants of Eviellan, though.
“They pay no attention to us,” a knight had told them at a castle where they stopped for the night. “Eviellan’s eyes are focused only on the Kingdom of Unauwen. I have heard rumours of a great battle that was fought there, but I do not know the outcome.”
Tiuri had asked if there was any news of Sir Ristridin. Was he already back at his castle? But the knight, like everyone else they had encountered along the way, had been unable to answer that question.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” said Piak, when they spotted distant towers that could only be Castle Ristridin. “All of these castles look so alike, don’t they? Big and made of stone, with thick walls and battlements. I don’t like them much, although they can be quite pleasant inside.” He let go of the reins for a moment and rubbed his hands, which were blue with cold. A little later, he called out, “Look! I can see something else in the distance over there. Mountains!”
Yes, far to the west of them rose the hazy summits of the Great Mountains, almost indistinguishable from the grey clouds above.
“We’re riding along the Third Great Road to the west now,” said Tiuri. “It leads through a mountain pass and into the Kingdom of Unauwen.”
“And we travelled along some of the First Great Road last year,” said Piak, “past Castle Mistrinaut. So where’s the Second Great Road?”
“The Second Great Road,” replied Tiuri, “has practically disappeared. It’s been overgrown by the Wild Wood.”
“I can see a forest, too,” said Piak. “Do you think that’s the Wild Wood?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve heard it’s more to the west.”
“Sir Ristridin may be able to tell us more about it soon,” said Piak. “Do you know I almost feel like I know him? Even though I’ve never met him in my life. You’ve told me so much about them, about Ristridin and Bendu, and Arwaut and Evan. See, I remember all of their names.”
“And we’re going to meet Sir Arturin, too,” said Tiuri, “Ristridin’s brother. I don’t know him either, but he’s to be our host.”
They reached the castle towards evening. The lookout at the top of one of the towers had sounded his horn to announce their arrival. Creaking, the drawbridge came down. As they rode across, one of the doors in the gate opened slowly and a group of four armed guards appeared.
“It seems they don’t just let their guests wander in, eh?” Piak whispered to Tiuri.
Tiuri greeted the guards. “We come as friends,” he said, “and we ask for hospitality. Sir Tiuri, and Piak, his squire.”
“Sir Tiuri?” repeated one of the guards. “So you’ve not come from the west? But you’re carrying a white shield, like a knight of Unauwen, and you’re far younger than I believed Tiuri the Valiant to be.”
“I am his son,” said Tiuri. “Tiuri with the White Shield. I am here at the invitation of Sir Ristridin.”
“Sir Ristridin!” cried the guard. “Do you bring news of him?!”
“No,” said Tiuri. “Has he not returned?”
“Not yet,” replied the guard.
“But he was supposed to come here in the spring.”
“That’s true,” said the guard, “but he has not yet arrived. Sir Bendu is also waiting for him; he arrived the day before yesterday. Please enter, Tiuri, son of Tiuri. I shall have your arrival announced to Sir Arturin.”
Soon the two friends were standing before Sir Arturin, the lord of the castle, who greeted them warmly. “Welcome, Sir Tiuri,” he said, “and you too, young squire. A fire burns in the hearth, and food is ready. I also welcome you in the name of my brother, who I believe invited you here.”
Tiuri didn’t think that Sir Arturin resembled his brother Ristridin at all. He was shorter than the knight-errant and nowhere near as lean; they just shared the same curly hair.
Now another man came over to Tiuri and Piak, a large, dark-haired man with a beard.
“Sir Bendu!” cried Tiuri.
“The very same,” the man said, shaking Tiuri’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, Tiuri. And I note that what I predicted has now come to pass: you are a knight, as is only right and proper.” He turned to Piak, who was standing there, looking a little awkward. “And who might you be?” he asked.
“This is Piak, my best friend,” said Tiuri. “He was my guide through the mountains and my travelling companion in the Kingdom of Unauwen. Now he is my squire.”
Bendu shook Piak’s hand, too, so firmly that Piak winced. Then Bendu spoke to Tiuri, “Do you bring news of Ristridin?”
“It’s been a few months since I saw him,” Tiuri replied. “Just before he went to the Wild Wood.”
“Oh,” said Bendu, clearly disappointed.
“As you can see, he has not yet returned,” said Sir Arturin. “But he is no longer in the Wild Wood either.”
“He isn’t?” said Tiuri. “So where is he? And what happened to him in the forest?”
“We know very little about it,” replied Arturin. “And we have no idea of his whereabouts now. He left the Wild Wood in the winter; a messenger from Islan brought me the news. Castle Islan is close to the Wild Wood, as you probably know. Ristridin passed by the castle and asked the lord there to send messages to King Dagonaut and to me. He intended to travel on to other parts, where there was more for a knight to do. He said the paths in the Wild Wood were dead ends or led to ruins of towns and villages that were abandoned long ago.”
“That may be so,” said Bendu, “but I still think he could at least have said where he meant to go. Does the Lord of Islan truly have no idea?”
“I wrote him a letter,” said Sir Arturin. “He replied to say that was all he knew. Ristridin did not even enter his castle. He was in a hurry and heading eastwards.” Arturin fell silent, a frown on his face.
“Why not to the south?” said Bendu. “He had a mission to carry out there!”
“A mission?” repeated Tiuri. Then suddenly he understood. Like Bendu, Ristridin had sworn to punish the Black Knight with the Red Shield – the leader of the Red Riders and the man who had murdered their friend Edwinem. That knight fought with his visor closed. No one knew who he was or what he looked like.
“Have you just returned from Eviellan?” Tiuri asked. “What happened there? Did you find the Knight with the Red Shield?”
“Did I find him? I can’t tell you how many such knights I found!” Bendu replied gruffly. “Eviellan is full of knights, and most wear black armour and nearly all of them have red shields. Whenever I met such a knight, I called him to account for Edwinem’s death – but they all denied knowing anything about it. I fought twelve duels but, unless I am very much mistaken, I did not defeat the man I was looking for.”
“They must have been very pleased to see you in Eviellan,” said Sir Arturin in a slightly sarcastic tone.
“They were certainly happy to see the back of me,” said Bendu. “But that will not hinder me in my search for that dishonourable knight! I am here now because it is what Ristridin and I agreed, and I hope he will soon accompany me to the south. Two men will have more chance than one of finding that murderer.”
“You will never succeed,” said Arturin. “The King of Eviellan will expel you from his land as an undesirable outsider. That is at least what I would do were I in his place. Why do you personally feel the need to avenge Edwinem’s death? That is surely the responsibility of the men from the west. Edwinem was a knight of Unauwen, was he not? So let King Unauwen punish his murderer!”
“Sir, I do not like your words!” growled Bendu. “Edwinem of Forèstèrra was my friend. It does not matter to me that he came from a different country! Ristridin, Arwaut, Evan and I have sworn to avenge his death, and I certainly intend to keep my word.”
“As you wish,” said Arturin, shrugging his shoulders. “But perhaps you are the only one who has not yet forgotten that oath – or rather, who has not realized its futility. The four of you went your separate ways months ago, as there were more important things to do. I suspect you will have to continue your quest for revenge on your own. Ristridin and Arwaut are not here, and Evan has not yet arrived either.”
“A man who forgets his oath loses his honour,” said Bendu.
Tiuri and Piak looked at each other. It seemed as if the two knights were about to start arguing. However, Arturin put an end to the discussion by inviting his guests to sit by the fire and drink a glass of wine with him.
Soon it was time to dine. Many of the castle residents came to join them, and Tiuri and Piak were introduced to Arturin’s wife and to their young son, who shared his father’s name. Sir Bendu did not say another word. He was generally taciturn and never particularly jovial, but now he really seemed to be brooding over something. Perhaps that was why Tiuri found the atmosphere in the room so gloomy. Piak was also sitting too far away. As a knight, Tiuri had been seated close to the lord of the castle, while his friend was with the other squires and servants. Tiuri wasn’t pleased about the seating arrangements, but it was a custom that knights rarely abandoned.
Towards the end of the meal, Bendu seemed to muster his energies. He started talking about the Wild Wood again and wondered why they had heard nothing from his nephew Arwaut.
“I think he must have gone with Ristridin,” said Arturin. He said he had received just one letter from his brother, dated on the eleventh day of the wine month, October, of the previous year. The message had been brief (“Ristridin has never been much of a writer,” Arturin explained). Ristridin had written to tell him that the knights had found a robbers’ hideout somewhere between the Green River and the Black River. “They were living in some old ruins,” Arturin told them. “Ristridin and his men fought them and overpowered them. Then the robbers were sent as prisoners to King Dagonaut, along with a message that Ristridin, Arwaut and their companions were all fine. The letter to me was a copy of that dispatch. It also said the knights were planning to head deeper into the forest, to the west, to look for the Men in Green.”
“The Men in Green?” asked Tiuri. “Who are they?”
“The Men in Green,” replied Bendu, “live between the Green River and the Green Hills. That’s what the woodcutters and hunters say, and I once heard it from a monk, too. Some people say they’re very tall and beautiful, while others claim they’re squat little monsters, like gnomes. That’s why I don’t believe they exist. As far as I know, a person is either big or small, not both at the same time.”
“Perhaps they’re not people,” said Arturin. “Who knows what might be living out there in those wildernesses where no godly man has ever set foot?”
Bendu looked sceptical. “Whatever the case, there is no way Ristridin met them,” he said. “Otherwise he would certainly have let us know! In fact, nothing of any import could have happened… as is evident from the fact that we have received no word from him.”
He looked at Arturin as if waiting for him to agree.
However, the lord of the castle remained silent and frowned down at his plate. “Well,” he said finally, “there is nothing we can do but wait for him to return, as he promised he would.”
“Let us hope he does not take too long about it,” muttered Bendu.
Tiuri looked at Arturin, then Bendu, and thought: Yes, let’s hope he gets here soon. The mood is not going to improve until Sir Ristridin comes home.
3 KNIGHTS OF KING UNAUWEN
A few more days went by, but still Ristridin did not return.
Sir Arturin did his best to make the wait as pleasant as possible for his guests, taking them out for rides and keeping them occupied with games and conversation. But no matter how cheerful he pretended to be, the mood of anxious anticipation persisted.
One afternoon, it seemed as if winter had come again. There was rain and hail, and the wind howled around the castle. In the great hall, though, the fire blazed merrily in the hearth. The lady of the castle and her maids sat spinning at one side of the fireplace. Piak stood in front of the fire, playing with Arturin’s son and a couple of dogs. Tiuri and Sir Arturin were seated on the other side of the fireplace with a chessboard between them. Bendu, though, could not settle. He kept pacing up and down, then stopping by the spinning wheels to talk, or looking at the chess game, or crouching down beside the dogs.
Then the sound of a horn made them all look up.
“Visitors!” said Sir Arturin, as he moved one of his bishops.
“I’ll go and see who it is,” said Bendu, and he strode from the room.
Sir Ristridin? thought Tiuri, looking down at the chessboard without noticing that he could take Arturin’s bishop.
None of them could concentrate on what they had been doing. Apologizing, Arturin stood up and followed Bendu. His wife told her maids to make sure the guest rooms were ready.
“Shall we go and take a look?” said Piak, jumping to his feet.
“Me too! Me too!” said little Arturin.
With the boy between them, the two friends headed into the corridor outside the great hall. The large arched windows had a good view over the courtyard. They stood together, looking out, and Piak lifted young Arturin onto his shoulders.
“I can see them!” the boy cried.
Yes, there they came. It was a whole procession, men on horseback… knights. The rain made everything a little hazy, but the knights’ shields were clear enough. White shields!
“King Unauwen’s knights!” cried Piak. “I can see two of them. And soldiers, too.”
Servants hurried to help the guests dismount and to take care of their horses.
“There’s Father!” called the little boy. “And Sir Bendu. Are the knights coming to see us?”
“Yes, I think they must be,” said Piak, lowering Arturin back down to the ground. “They’ll be here any moment.”
Just minutes later, the two knights entered the great hall, accompanied by their squires and Arturin and Bendu. The younger of the two knights gave Tiuri a friendly nod.
It was Evan!
Sir Arturin introduced the guests. “Sir Evan,” he said, “and Sir Idian.”
Tiuri did not know Sir Idian, and he was rather puzzled that this knight had kept his helmet on so that his face could not be seen. He was tall, however, and had a proud bearing. There was something captivating about his voice, too, even though he spoke no more than a greeting.
“This is Marvin, Evan’s squire,” Arturin continued, “and this is…”
“Currently the squire of Sir Idian,” the man said, interrupting Arturin. “But usually… court jester to King Unauwen.” He threw back the hood of his travelling cloak, spraying droplets of water all around, and gave an elegant bow.
“Tirillo!” exclaimed Tiuri.
“Tirillo!” cried Piak.
“Indeed. Tirillo arrives as a traveller in the rain,” said the merry jester.
“And as a victor in the battle,” said Evan.
“So there really has been a battle?” asked Arturin.
“We fought at the Southerly Mountains,” replied Sir Idian.
“And defeated the armies of Eviellan,” added Evan.
“We only held them off,” the jester corrected him. “Now they’re resting and licking their wounds. Soon they’ll be on the march again. If you stand on top of the mountains and look into Eviellan, you’ll see nothing but soldiers and army camps. This was merely a skirmish, my dear Evan.”
“What sombre words,” said Arturin. “I thought jesters were meant to make people happy.”
“Jesters merely confront people with the truth,” said Tirillo, “and usually it sounds so improbable that they can’t help but laugh. We try to remain in good spirits in spite of threats from sinister quarters, rather than closing our eyes to danger.”
“Have you been guarding your borders closely?” asked Sir Idian.
“As always,” replied Arturin. “Although recently there has been no sign of Eviellan.”
“That proves what fools they are in Eviellan,” said Tirillo. “There are no mountains here. They have only to cross a river. No, they cannot possibly be so stupid. And for that reason I believe the opposite must be true: the enemy in the south is crafty and cunning. Be wary, Sir Arturin, Lord of Castle Ristridin by the Grey River!”
“My thanks for your wise counsel,” said Arturin, a little abruptly. Then he asked his guests if they would like to put on dry clothes. They were keen to do so, and the party left the room, accompanied by Arturin and his wife.
But Evan looked back for a moment at Tiuri and said, “I’m glad you’re here. Later we will have much to tell each other.”
The candles had been lit in the great hall. Only Tiuri, Piak and Bendu were sitting there now, waiting for the others to arrive.
“So now Evan’s here,” said Bendu. “And I hope Ristridin and Arwaut will come soon. Then we’ll all be together again.”
Tiuri sat beside the chessboard, staring blankly at the pieces. “Sir Evan made it in good time,” he said. “Do you know Sir Idian?”
“No, I’ve never met him before,” replied Bendu. “I don’t recognize his name either. But he must be a powerful lord; you should have seen how respectfully his men addressed him. The jester is a friend of yours, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I met him last year in the Kingdom of Unauwen,” said Tiuri.
“He’s really nice,” said Piak.
“Nice? Then I am not a good jester,” said Tirillo, as he entered the room, followed by Sir Arturin. “Jesters should be nuisances. We are supposed to taunt and provoke people.”
He sat down opposite Tiuri and asked, “Whose move is it?”
“Mine,” replied Tiuri. “Yes, it’s white’s turn.”
“Then play!” commanded Tirillo.
Tiuri took the black bishop, and said, “Now it’s Sir Arturin’s move.” He leant back comfortably, planning to ask the jester all kinds of questions. But the jester put one finger to his pointed nose and stared down at the chessboard.
“Please, go ahead and make my move for me,” said Arturin.
“My thanks,” said the jester, moving a piece. “And now it’s your move again, Tiuri.”
Tiuri wasn’t really in the mood for playing chess. “How are affairs in the Kingdom of Unauwen?” he asked.
“Much the same as you see here,” replied Tirillo. “White against black; the knights of Unauwen against Eviellan. Bishops confer, knights gallop, castles are besieged. Good and evil attempt to checkmate each other.” He looked at the chessboard with a smile. “It’s been a long time since I last played,” he said. “These black and white squares bring back all sorts of memories for me.”
Tiuri soon realized, however, that the jester had not forgotten how to play. In just a few moves, Tirillo had taken three white pieces and said, “Your mind’s not on the game, Sir Tiuri!”
Tiuri had to admit he was right. He would far rather have been talking to the jester and asking him questions.
“The conversation can come later,” said the jester. “It will happen naturally, when we’re all sitting together. Now please be so kind as to concentrate on our game.”
So they went on playing.
The lady of the castle entered the room, with Evan and Sir Idian. Evan came over to talk to Bendu and Piak, while Sir Idian stood and watched the game of chess.
“You can check him in three moves, Tirillo,” he said, “unless Sir Tiuri has thought of the only way to save his king. Then maybe he could even put yours in danger.”
Tiuri tried to work out what that move might be.
“Why don’t you play for him, Sir Idian?” suggested Tirillo. “You have not sat across a chessboard from me for many years.”
Tiuri looked up at the knight, who had now removed his helmet. His hair gleamed like gold in the candlelight, and his face was young and friendly.
“I’m afraid I will not be playing chess for now,” he said.
Tiuri stood up and said, “Then, please, help me. Take my turn for me.”
Sir Idian smiled. He sat down and made a jump with the last white knight. Then he explained his move to Tiuri.
Tiuri listened and watched Idian’s hands as he spoke. On one of his fingers, a beautiful ring glinted. Tiuri had seen other rings like it before. There were only twelve of them in the whole world and King Unauwen had given them to his most loyal paladins. Tiuri had never heard of Idian before, but he must be a knight of great renown.
A quarter of an hour later, the chessboard had been forgotten. Sir Arturin’s guests were busy telling one another their news. Evan was the only one who planned to remain at the castle until Ristridin returned. The others had merely accompanied him for some of the journey. Sir Idian meant to return soon to the Kingdom of Unauwen, while Tirillo was travelling to the north to talk to King Dagonaut as an envoy from the kingdom in the west.
“An envoy?” said Bendu, his expression suggesting that he thought it strange for a jester to be chosen for such a task.
Tiuri was about to speak up on his friend’s behalf, but Tirillo silenced him with a wink.
“In these times of danger, it is wise to strengthen the bonds of friendship between our two lands,” said Sir Idian. “We have a dangerous enemy in the south.”
“Eviellan is your enemy. I have seen little good about that land,” said Sir Arturin, “but we in the Kingdom of Dagonaut are not at war.”
“Do you feel safe?” asked Tirillo.
“We never let up the watch at our borders,” replied Arturin. “But I must say we have had no difficulties with the south since the present king has been in power. And the feud between him and your king is nothing to do with us in Dagonaut.”
“I disagree!” said Tiuri indignantly. He felt so closely connected to the kingdom in the west. Did he not carry a white shield, given to him by King Unauwen?
“And so do I!” agreed Bendu. “The King of Eviellan is a villain, as everyone knows.”
Sir Idian’s expression shifted, as if a shadow flitted across it.
“He is as much a villain as his knights with red shields,” Bendu added.
“There is only one knight with a red shield whom you regard as your enemy,” Arturin said to him, “and that is because he murdered Edwinem – heaven rest his soul. Edwinem was a subject of King Unauwen and therefore an enemy of Eviellan, but you have chosen to avenge him because he was your friend. You have said so yourself.”
“That is true,” growled Bendu. “But,” he continued, “is it possible to trust a country that is inhabited by such knights and ruled by such a treacherous man?”
“I do not trust Eviellan either,” said Arturin. “But there is peace between that land and our own, and I hope it will remain so.”
If only Sir Ristridin were here, thought Tiuri. He sympathizes with those beyond our borders. Ristridin’s homeland was the Kingdom of Dagonaut, to the east of the Great Mountains – but the world was larger than that. No one who had travelled to the Kingdom of Unauwen, on the other side of the mountains, would ever forget that land. And Eviellan should never be forgotten either, but for entirely different reasons.
Tiuri looked at Sir Idian and his companions, in the hope that they would say more. But they remained silent.
4 TWO KNIGHTS FROM THE SOUTH
Ristridin did not appear the following day either. Bendu grumbled, “I do not understand where he could be. If he has left the Wild Wood, he has no reason whatsoever not to keep to our agreement. I think I shall go to Islan. Perhaps someone there can tell me where he went.”
“I haven’t been here that long myself,” said Evan. “Who knows how soon the sound of horns might announce the arrival of our friends?”
“Well, I certainly hope they come quickly!” said Bendu.
“As do I,” said Sir Idian. “I should like to meet Sir Ristridin, but I cannot remain here for long.”
It was evening again, and Sir Arturin and his guests were sitting together in the great hall. Tiuri and Sir Idian were playing a game of chess, at Idian’s request. That gave Tiuri a chance to study him. He was intrigued by the knight. The man had said little, but his presence could always be felt – it was in the way he paid attention when he listened, the occasional calm remark he made, the expression on his face. He was not as young as Tiuri had initially thought; fine lines around his eyes suggested he had lived longer, and those years had perhaps been difficult ones. His eyes were dark and appeared dreamy and distant at first. However, when they looked at a person, they proved to be very penetrating, and Tiuri felt that Idian knew far more about him than the other way around. He wondered why he was so curious about this knight. I know nothing about him at all! he thought. He hasn’t spoken a word about himself. But perhaps that’s why…
He had noted that Idian was clearly the leader of the visitors from the west. His authority seemed perfectly natural, and not just because he was the oldest of the three and wore King Unauwen’s ring on his finger. However, Evan and Tirillo had told Tiuri nothing about their companion. In fact, when Tiuri thought about it, he realized that they’d avoided every question about him. There was definitely something mysterious about this Sir Idian.
Tiuri was roused from his thoughts as Sir Idian looked right at him and said, “I am only one of King Unauwen’s many paladins.”
Tiuri did not know how to respond, but the other knight turned his gaze to the chessboard and quietly added, “How pleasant it is to be in a peaceful castle and to play a friendly game of chess. And yet – though this may sound strange – it somehow feels as if I am doing more here than just playing chess.”
Tiuri still said nothing, but no answer seemed to be expected.
Tirillo came over to them and spoke in a whisper, “Now time seems to stand still and…”
His words were interrupted by the sound of horns.
“Ah, it would seem I am mistaken,” said the jester. “Time is knocking at the very gates of this castle! Guests, events, travellers in the darkness!”
“Ristridin and Arwaut? Could it be them? At last?” said Bendu.
However, the gatekeepers brought other news. “Two knights from the south have crossed the river,” they reported to the lord of the castle. “They have requested shelter.”
“Knights from the south?” repeated Arturin.
“From Eviellan?” asked Bendu. “Are they carrying red shields?”
“Yes, my lord,” came the reply.
“Then we shall not let them in!” cried Bendu. “Knights with red shields! How dare they? Tell them I shall come outside and measure my strength against theirs!”
Sir Arturin placed his hand on Bendu’s arm. “You must remain calm,” he said. “They are asking for shelter and, as Lord of Castle Ristridin, I cannot refuse.”
“Have you forgotten that Edwinem, too, was once your guest?” shouted Bendu. “He was murdered by a knight such as those.”
“And which knight was that?” said Arturin. “You have no more idea than I. And the laws of hospitality should be sacred to you, too, Sir Bendu.”
“Do not forget that you already have guests!” cried Bendu. “And those guests are knights with white shields, the mortal enemies of those men at the gate!”
Arturin had no response to that. He looked anxiously at his other guests, who had listened to all of this in silence.
Tirillo walked over to join the knights and asked, “What is the problem?”
“I’m sure you must have heard,” said Bendu. “Two knights from Eviellan want to enter the castle.”
“Which lord may close the gates of his castle to those who request hospitality?” said the jester.
“Yes, but…” began Arturin.
“But you are already here,” Bendu added, looking at Sir Idian.
“And what of it?” Sir Idian replied calmly. “This is neutral territory, is it not? In this castle, enemies may meet in peace. Let them enter!” He smiled at Bendu and said, “Your challenge can wait until they have left the castle.”
“So you do not mind?” asked Arturin.
“Whether my lord minds or not is of no import,” the jester replied on Idian’s behalf. “He says, ‘Let them in.’ To which I would add, ‘Do not leave them waiting out there in the cold.’”
Sir Arturin and the guards left the room and headed to the gate.
“There’s going to be trouble!” said Piak.
“Oh no, we shall all remain perfectly calm,” said Tirillo. “As for me, I have to say that I enjoy coming face to face with my enemies. I find that they’re so very different from me! They have arms, legs, eyes and a mouth…”
“And a heart,” added Idian.
Bendu looked unhappily at Tirillo, then Idian. Sir Idian stood up and paced the room, as if considering his course of action.
“My lord,” Tirillo said to him, “do you wish us to withdraw, or should Evan and I converse with the new guests?”
“Stay here, in this room,” replied the knight, “and wait to see what happens.” But Sir Idian himself slowly walked away, stopping at the door to look back. “I shall remain nearby,” he said, and then he left the hall.
Piak leant over to Tiuri and whispered, “Are you as keen as I am to find out more about Sir Idian?”
So his friend felt the same way! Tiuri had no time to answer, though, as Sir Arturin returned, followed by two knights in black armour with red shields.
“Allow me to introduce you,” he said. “Sir Melas of Darokítam and Sir Kraton of Indigo.”
After the servants had helped the newly arrived knights out of their armour, silence fell as the men glared at each other.
Tirillo was the first to speak.
“I know you, Sir Kraton,” he said, “from a long time ago, when you were still Lord of Indigo.”
“I still consider myself Lord of Indigo,” said Sir Kraton gruffly. He was a large man with a sombre face.
“Indigo no longer exists,” said Evan.
“The Castle of Indigo on the White River is a ruin,” said Sir Kraton. “Your soldiers destroyed it.”
“Because you rose up against your king, Unauwen,” said Evan.
“Because I remained loyal to my lord, the King of Eviellan!”
“You were born in the Kingdom of Unauwen, not in Eviellan,” said Tirillo. “You once carried a white shield, if I am not mistaken. Are you so eager to bear different colours?”
“I have chosen red,” Sir Kraton answered abruptly, “and that is enough for me. I have no need for the entire rainbow, like some… jester.” He turned to Melas and said something to him in a strange language. “My friend knows only a little of your tongue,” he said. “It is perhaps just as well that he did not understand the words of Tirillo, the king’s fool.”
“The king’s paladin!” Evan exclaimed.
“One does not need to carry a sword and a shield to be a knight,” Tiuri added.
Sir Kraton looked at Tiuri and Evan. “Tell me, who are these young boys?” he asked. “Surely they are not knights?”
“Sir Evan from the west, and Tiuri, knight of Dagonaut,” said Arturin, who now also sounded annoyed.
“I have never heard of Evan,” said Kraton, “but Tiuri…” He cast a hostile glance at him.
Tiuri knew the knights of Eviellan must see him as an enemy, even though he was a citizen of a neutral land – or at least they would if they knew about the vitally important letter he had once carried to King Unauwen.
Sir Bendu eyed Kraton with suspicion, as Arturin glanced uneasily from one knight to the other. Then he called a servant to bring wine in honour of the new guests, in an attempt to improve the atmosphere.
The wine was brought and poured, but the men all watched one another closely over the rims of their goblets. The knights from Eviellan said nothing, while Arturin made light-hearted remarks in a futile attempt to lift the hostile mood.
“Let’s talk about the weather!” Tirillo finally cried. “Sun and rain treat us all equally. Even in Eviellan there is a full moon every month.”
“Pah! Only a moonstruck fool would suggest such a topic of conversation,” Sir Kraton sneered. “I have other matters on my mind than the moon, full or not. Wind and weather cannot sway me.”
“And yet you are such a poor weathercock,” said Tirillo. “First facing west, then spinning to the south.”
“I once had a golden weathercock on the tallest tower of Castle Indigo,” said Kraton. “Whatever became of it? One day, though, that tower, and my ruined castle, will be rebuilt. That is what I dream of every night, moon or no moon.”
“Do you ever dream about Castle Forèstèrra?” asked Tirillo. “Or Ingewel? The knights who lived in those castles were slain by you and your kind.”
“The fool’s words grow ever wiser!” mocked Kraton. “How can a war be fought without deaths?” He said something else to his silent companion. Sir Melas laughed and drank down his wine. Kraton did the same and had his glass refilled. Then he turned to Bendu and Arturin.
“I do not know what stories the gentlemen from the Kingdom of Unauwen might have told you,” he said. “I’m sure they will have informed you that my master, the King of Eviellan, is wicked and evil. And that his opponent, the crown prince, the son of Unauwen, is noble and good. That is what they have said, is it not? But did they tell you that the King of Eviellan is also a son of King Unauwen and that the princes are twin brothers? Why should one become crown prince and have everything? Why should the other receive nothing, merely because he was born a little later?”
“You have it all wrong!” interjected Evan. “The hostility did not begin with the crown prince. His brother has always been jealous of him.”
“There can be only one successor to the throne,” said Tirillo.
“Your ruler started the war,” said Evan. “He was given every chance, but he would not obey his father and he threatened the life of the crown prince. His own brother!”
“Gentlemen,” said Arturin, almost pleading with them, “please behave as guests in this peaceful place. Come to a truce, in both words and deeds!”
“I would like nothing more,” said Kraton, holding out his glass for more wine. “Sir Melas and I are here for reasons of peace. We travel as envoys from our king to pay a visit to King Dagonaut.”
“You too?” said Bendu.
“Then we can travel together,” said Tirillo with a smile. “My destination is the same.”
“Does King Dagonaut need cheering up?” Kraton said sarcastically. “No matter. You are welcome as a travelling companion. We intend to propose that King Dagonaut should form an alliance with Eviellan.”
Tirillo laughed. “And I am to ask King Dagonaut to form an alliance with Unauwen,” he said. “It should be interesting if we go to see him together!”
Sir Kraton did not deign to reply. He drank his third glass, filled it again, and said to Bendu, “I do not wish you to delay me when I leave. I swear to you on my honour as a knight that I did not kill Edwinem of Forèstèrra. So it would be foolish of you to start your duelling again.”
“Allow me to be the judge of that,” said Bendu coldly.
“Where is your friend? What’s his name again? Sir Ristridin of the South?” Kraton continued. “I should have liked to meet him.”
“He went to the Wild Wood,” replied Bendu.
“The Wild Wood?” repeated Kraton.
“Yes, but he is elsewhere now,” said Arturin. “He is heading here. We expect him soon.”
“What on earth was Sir Ristridin doing in the Wild Wood?” asked Kraton.
“A man needs to know his own country,” said Tirillo.
“Ristridin found nothing of interest in the Wild Wood,” said Arturin. “He left the forest in the winter.”
“Oh, now I understand,” said Kraton. “I heard rumours that he was roaming around Deltaland.”
“Deltaland?” cried Bendu. “But where? And when?”
“I know nothing about that,” replied Kraton. “I heard only rumours. And I can’t remember who told me. It may not be true.”
“Deltaland is not so far,” said Arturin.
They talked about Deltaland for a while before the conversation petered out.
I hope they leave soon, thought Tiuri. He was watching Tirillo, the only one who might cheer up the company if he chose to. But the jester was arranging the pieces on the chessboard and appeared to be paying no attention to anything else. Bendu stood up and started pacing once again. Sir Kraton poured himself another glass of wine. He had already had quite a few and it seemed that he was planning to keep on going.
He soon became talkative again, making caustic remarks at the expense of Evan and Tirillo. They did not respond, which of course provoked Kraton all the more. Finally he cried out, “What has become of King Unauwen’s famous paladins? A timid little boy and a court jester, that is all I see! You did say they were knights, did you not, my host?”
“As indeed they are,” replied Arturin, “and I would ask you to…”
Kraton interrupted him. “There was another knight, a knight with a white shield!” he shouted. “I don’t mean Tiuri – he’s one of King Dagonaut’s men. But there is a third knight from the west here in this castle. You mentioned his name, Sir Arturin, when you so kindly allowed me in. Where is that knight?”
“I do not know,” said Arturin.
“We have come here with open visors!” cried Kraton. “At least Evan and Tirillo have come to meet us. Why has the other knight not done the same? Could he be hiding?” He stood up and looked around as if issuing a challenge.
Sir Melas tapped him on the elbow and muttered something, but Kraton paid no attention to him. Bendu pursed his lips and looked as if he were struggling not to attack Kraton. Arturin seemed angry. Evan and Tirillo were silent.
“Could he be hiding?” repeated Kraton.
Tirillo looked up from the chessboard. For the first time, he appeared a little concerned.
“And what business is that of yours?” said Evan haughtily.
“None whatsoever, my friend,” answered Kraton. “I merely wish to shake his hand. That’s if he dares to come out here! Who is he? What is his name?”
The room fell silent for a moment. Then Tirillo said, quietly, but clearly, “Sir Idian.”
