The Brothers Lionheart

  “They’re not all that bright, those Tengilmen,” said Mathias. “Although they think they are.”

  “No, even I could trick them,” I said. “Just think if they’d known that the little brother they wanted to get hold of so much was the very one they’d help into Wild Rose Valley and let go just like that.”

  When I had said it, I began to think. I hadn’t thought about it before, but now I asked:

  “However did you get into Wild Rose Valley, Jonathan?”

  Jonathan laughed.

  “I leapt my way in.”

  “What do you mean leapt...surely not with Grim?”

  “Yes,” said Jonathan. “I haven’t any other horse.”

  I had seen and knew what great leaps Jonathan could do on Grim, but to leap over the wall around Wild Rose Valley was more than any human being could believe.

  “You see, the wall wasn’t quite finished then,” said Jonathan. “Not everywhere. Not to its full height, though it was high enough, you can be sure of that.”

  “Yes, but the guards!” I said. “Did no one see you?”

  Jonathan took a bite of bread, then laughed again.

  “Yes, I had a whole swarm of them after me, and Grim got an arrow in his rump. But I got away, and a kind person hid both Grim and me in his barn. And that night he brought me here to Mathias. Now you know everything.”

  “No, you don’t know everything at all,” said Mathias. “You don’t know that the people here in the valley sing songs about that ride and about Jonathan. His coming here is the only good thing that had happened in Wild Rose Valley since Tengil invaded us and made us bondsmen. ‘Jonathan our savior’ they sing, because he’s going to liberate Wild Rose Valley, believe you me; I believe that too. Now you know everything.”

  “You don’t know everything at all,” said Jonathan. “You don’t know that Mathias is the one who is leading the secret struggle in Wild Rose Valley, now that Orvar is in Katla Cavern. They should call Mathias the savior, not me.”

  “No, I’m too old,” said Mathias. “He’s so right, that Veder. It’s all the same whether I live or die.”

  “You mustn’t say that,” I said. “Because you’re my grandfather.”

  “Well, then, that’s what I shall stay alive for. But I’m not fit to lead a struggle any longer. You have to be young for that.”

  He sighed.

  “If only Orvar were here. But he’s in Katla Cavern, until he’s given to Katla.”

  I saw that Jonathan’s face had turned quite white.

  “We’ll see,” he mumbled. “We’ll see whom Katla gets in the end.”

  But then he said:

  “Now we must set to work. You don’t know either, Rusky, that here in this cottage, we sleep in the daytime and work at night. Come on, and I’ll show you.”

  He crawled ahead of me through the shutter into the hideout, and there he showed me something. He threw aside the feather mattress which we had slept on and took up two wide loose floorboards under it.

  There I saw a black hole going straight down into the earth.

  “This is where my underground passage starts,” said Jonathan.

  “And where does it end?” I asked, though I could almost guess what his reply would be.

  “In the wild country on the other wise of the wall,” he said. “It’ll come up there when it’s finished. A couple more nights and then I think it’ll be long enough.”

  He crept down into the hole.

  “But I must dig a bit farther,” he said. “For you must see that I don’t want to pop up right under Fatty Dodik’s nose.”

  Then he vanished and I sat there waiting for a long time. When he came back at last, he was pushing a trough full of earth in front of him. He heaved it up to me and I dragged it through the shutter to Mathias.

  “More earth for my field,” said Mathias. “If only I had a few peas and beans to sow and plant there, that would the end of our hunger.”

  “Do you think so?” said Jonathan. “Tengil takes nine out of every ten beans in your field; have you forgotten that?”

  “You’re right,” said Mathias. “So long as Tengil is alive, there’ll be hunger and need in Wild Rose Valley.”

  Mathias was now going to sneak out and empty the trough on his field and I was told to stay by the door and keep watch. I was to whistle, said Jonathan, if I noticed the slightest thing that might be dangerous. A special little tune, I was to whistle, one that Jonathan had taught me a long time ago when we lived on earth. We used to whistle a lot together at that time, in the evenings after we had gone to bed. So I’ve always been able to whistle.

  Jonathan crawled down into his hole again to go on digging, and Mathias closed the shutter and pushed back the sideboard.

  “Get this into your head, Rusky,” he said. “Never, never let Jonathan be in there without the shutter being closed and the sideboard pushed across. Get it into your head that you’re in a country where Tengil lives and rules.”

  “I won’t forget,” I said.

  It was dim in the kitchen, a single candle burning on the table, but Mathias put it out.

  “The night must be dark in Wild Rose Valley,” he said. “For there are so many eyes wanting to see what they shouldn’t see.”

  Then he took the trough and vanished, and I stood at the open door to keep watch. It was dark, just as Mathias wanted it to be. It was dark in the houses, and the sky over Wild Rose Valley was dark too, no stars twinkling and no moon. I could see nothing at all. But all those eyes of the night that Mathias had talked about, they couldn’t see anything either, I thought, and that was a comfort.

  I felt miserable and lonely, standing there waiting, and it was creepy, too. Mathias was taking so long. I grew uneasy, more and more uneasy every moment that went by. Why didn’t he come? I stared into the darkness. But it wasn’t quite so dark now, was it? Suddenly I thought that it had grown lighter. Or was it only my eyes getting used to it? Then I saw what it was. The moon was coming out through the clouds, which was the worst thing that could happen, and I prayed to God that Mathias would get back in time while it was still dark enough to hide him. But it was too late, for now the moon was shining brilliantly and a river of moonlight was flooding the valley.

  I saw Mathias in that light; far away, I saw him coming through the thickets with his trough. I looked wildly around, for I was supposed to be keeping watch, and then I saw something else, too—Dodik, Fatty Dodik, climbing down the wall on a rope ladder, his back to me.

  It’s very difficult to whistle when you’re frightened, so it didn’t sound too good, but I more or less managed to get that tune out, and as swiftly as a lizard, Mathias vanished behind the nearest wild rose thicket.

  By then Dodik was already upon me.

  “What are you whistling for?” he shouted.

  “Because—because I learned to today,” I stammered. “I couldn’t whistle before, but just think, I can suddenly do it today. Do you want to hear me?”

  I started whistling again but Dodik stopped me.

  “No, shut up, now,” he said. “Not that I know whether it’s forbidden to whistle, but I expect it is. I don’t think Tengil likes it. And anyhow you should keep your door shut, you know.”

  “Doesn’t Tengil like you leaving your door open?” I said.

  “Mind your own business,” said Dodik. “Do as you’re told. But give me a ladle of water first. I’m dying of thirst up there on that wall.”

  I thought quickly; if he comes after me into the kitchen and finds Mathias isn’t there, what’ll happen? Poor Mathias, the death sentence for being out at night; I’d heard enough about that.

  “I’ll get some,” I said quickly. “Stay here and I’ll get you some water.”

  I ran inside and in the dark fumbled my way to the water barrel. I knew which corner it was in. I found the ladle, too, and I filled it with water. Then I felt someone standing behind me; yes, he was standing there in the darkness just behind my back, and I’ve rarely fe
lt anything so creepy.

  “Light the candle,” said Dodik. “I want to see what this kind of rat hole looks like.”

  My hands shook; I was shaking all over, but I managed to light the candle all the same.

  Dodik took the ladle and drank. He drank and drank as if he were a bottomless pit. Then he flung the ladle down on the floor and looked around suspiciously with his horrible little eyes. Then he asked just what I had expected him to ask.

  “That old Mathias who lives here, where is he?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to answer.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” said Dodik. “Where’s Mathias?”

  “He’s asleep,” I said. I had to think up something.

  “Where?”

  There was a little room off the kitchen and Mathias had his bed in there, I knew, but I also knew he wasn’t asleep in there now. I pointed toward the door and said:

  “In there.”

  I squeaked it out, almost inaudibly. It sounded feeble and Dodik laughed mockingly at me.

  “You don’t lie very well,” he said. “Wait while I look.”

  He was so pleased, knowing that I had lied, and I expect he wanted to arrange Mathias’s death sentence and perhaps be praised by Tengil.

  “Give me the candle,” he said, and I gave it to him. I wanted to rush away, just bolt out of the door and get hold of Mathias and tell him to flee before it was too late. But I couldn’t move from the spot. I just stood there, feeling sick with fear.

  Dodik saw this and enjoyed the sight. He was in no hurry; oh no, he grinned and dallied just to frighten me more than ever. But when he had stopped grinning, he said:

  “Come on, lad, just show me where old Mathias is lying asleep.”

  He kicked open the door of the room and pushed me so hard that I tripped over the high step. Then he jerked me up again and stood in front of me with the candle in his hand.

  “You liar, show me, now,” he said, raising the candle to light up the room.

  I didn’t dare move or look up; I would have liked to dissolve into nothing, I was so desperate.

  But then, in the middle of my misery, I heard Mathias’s angry voice:

  “What’s going on? Can’t a man even sleep in peace at night?”

  I looked up and saw Mathias; yes, he was sitting there in his bed in the dimmest corner of the room, peering at the light. He was wearing only a shirt and his hair was untidy, as if he had been asleep for a long time. Over by the window was the trough, leaning against the wall. This grandfather of mine must have indeed been as quick as a lizard.

  I felt almost sorry for Dodik. I’ve never seen anyone look so utterly stupid as he did, as he stood there glaring at Mathias.

  “I only came in for a little water,” he said sullenly.

  “Water, oh yes, that’s a good one,” said Mathias. “Don’t you know that Tengil has forbidden you to take water from us? He thinks we’ll poison you. And if you come and wake me up again, I will too.”

  I don’t know how he dared talk like that to Dodik, but perhaps that’s the right way to speak to a Tengilman, for Dodik just grunted and disappeared out to his wall.

  Chapter 10

  I had never seen a really cruel person until I saw Tengil of Karmanyaka.

  He came across the river of The Ancient Rivers in his golden sloop and I was standing there waiting with Mathias.

  It Jonathan who had sent me. he wanted me to see Tengil.

  “Because then you’ll understand better why people here in the valley toil and starve and die with but one thought and one dream—to see their valley free again.”

  High up in the mountains of The Ancient Mountains, Tengil had his castle. he lived there, only occasionally crossing the river to Wild Rose Valley to strike terror into the people, so that no one would forget who he was or begin to dream too much about freedom, Jonathan said.

  At first I could hardly see anything, because there were so many Tengil soldiers in front of me, rows of them, to protect Tengil while he was in Wild Rose Valley. He was afraid, I suppose, while he was in Wild Rose Valley, that an arrow might come whistling out of some hidden corner. Tyrants are always afraid, Jonathan had said, and Tengil was the worst of all tyrants.

  No, at first we could see nothing, neither Mathias nor I, but then I fount out what to do. They stood there so cocksure, and with their feet wide apart, Tengil’s soldiers, that if I lay down flat on my stomach behind the one with his legs farthest apart, I could see through them.

  But I couldn’t get Mathias to do that.

  “The main thing is that you see,” he said. “And that you never forget what you see today.”

  And I saw—a beautiful great gilded boat coming toward us out on the river, black-clad men at the oars. There were a lot of oars, more than I could count, and the blades flashing in the sun each time they were raised out of the water. The oarsmen had to work hard, for there were strong currents pulling at the boat. Perhaps it was the suction from a waterfall farther down the river, for I could hear the thunder of mighty waters far away.

  “That’s Karma Falls that you can hear,” said Mathias, when I asked him. “The song of Karma Falls. That’s our cradle song here in Wild Rose Valley, which the children lie and listen to before they go to sleep.”

  I thought about the children of Wild Rose Valley. They must have run about and played and splashed and had fun down here by the riverbank before. Now they couldn’t because of the wall, that dreadful wall which enclosed everything. There were only two gates through the whole length of the wall, the one that I had come through, call the main gateway, and then another here by the river, with a landing stage outside it, where Tengil’s sloop was now moored. The gate had been opened Tengil, and through the archway and between a soldier's legs, I saw the landing stage and Tengil’s black stallion waiting there, a fine horse with its saddle gleaming with gold and its harness gleaming with gold. And I saw Tengil step forward and swing himself up into the saddle and riding through the gateway. Suddenly he was quite close to me and I saw his cruel face and his cruel eyes. Cruel as a serpent, Jonathan had said, and that’s what he looked like, cruel though and through and bloodthirsty, too. The costume he was wearing was as red as blood, and the plumes on his helmet were also red, as if he had dipped them in blood. His eyes started straight ahead; he did not look at the people, just as if there were nothing else in the whole world except Tengil of Karmanyaka; yes, he was terrible.

  Everyone in Wild Rose Valley had been ordered to come to the village square, where Tengil was going to speak to them. Mathias and I went there too, of course.

  It was such a fine and pretty little square, with beautiful old houses all around it, and there Tengil had them all now, all the people of Wild Rose Valley, exactly as he had ordered. They were standing quietly, just waiting, but oh, how you could feel their bitterness and sorrow. Here in this square they must have enjoyed life before, perhaps danced and played and sung on summer evenings, or perhaps just sat on a bench outside the inn and talked to each other under the lime trees.

  Two old lime trees grew there, and Tengil had ridden up and placed himself in between them. He remained mounted and stared out over the square and the people, but he did not see a single one of them, I’m certain. He had his chief adviser beside him, a proud man called Pyuke, Mathias told me. Pyuke had a white horse almost as fine as Tengil’s black one, and they sat there like two potentates on their horses, just staring straight ahead. They sat like that for a long time. The soldiers stood around them, on guard. Tengilmen in black helmets and black cloaks, their swords drawn. You could see that they were sweating, for the sun was already high in the sky and it was a hot day

  “What do you think Tengil will say?” I asked Mathias.

  “That he’s dissatisfied with us,” said Mathias. “He never says anything else.”

  Tengil didn’t actually speak himself. He wouldn’t speak to bondsmen. He just spoke to Pyuke and then Pyuke had to proclaim how dissatis
fied Tengil was with the people of Wild Rose Valley. They didn’t work hard enough and they protected Tengil’s Enemies.

  “Lionheart has still not been found,” said Pyuke. “Our gracious sovereign is dissatisfied with that.”

  “Yes, I can see that, I can see that,” I heard someone mumble just beside me. There was a poor man standing there, dressed in rags, a little old man with tangled hair and a tangled gray beard.

  “Our gracious sovereign’s patience is almost at an end,” said Pyuke. “and he will punish Wild Rose Valley severely, without mercy.”

  “Yes, he’s right there, he’s right there,” whined the old man beside me, and I realized he must be a simpleton, not quite right in the head.

  “But,” said Pyuke, “in his great goodness, our gracious sovereign will wait a while longer before issuing his punishment, and he has even offered a reward. Twenty white horses will be given to the person who captures Lionheart for him.”

  “Then I’ll get the little fox,” said the old man, nudging me in the side. “Twenty white horses I’ll get from our gracious sovereign; oh, that’s good payment for a little fox like that.”

  I was so angry I would have liked to hit him; even if he was a simpleton, he was talking stupidly.

  “Have you no sense?” I whispered, and then he laughed.

  “No, not much,” he said. Then he looked straight at me and I saw his eyes; Jonathan was the only person in the world with such beautiful shining eyes. It was true, he really did have no sense. How could he have the nerve to come here right under Tengil’s nose! Though of course, no one would recognize him. Not even Mathias did, until Jonathan slapped him on the back and said:

  “Old man, haven’t we met before?”

  Jonathan liked dressing up. He used to playact for me in the kitchen in the evenings, when we lived on earth, I mean. He could make a real fright of himself and be so funny that I laughed so much sometimes my stomach used to ache.

  But now, here, in front of Tengil, it was almost too bold.

  “I must see what happens, too,” he whispered, and he wasn’t laughing then, for there was nothing to laugh at, either.