The Letter for the King

  “When we heard that, we decided to split up. Bendu rode to the city and I headed into the forest. But I found no trace of any riders or of the Black Knight with the White Shield. Finally, I went to the city too, and I arrived just after the knighting ceremony. There was, of course, a great deal of discussion about the young man who had run away, but at that time I thought it was of little import. I was thinking about Edwinem and the Red Riders. I met up again with Bendu, who had been unable to find the old squire. I also learnt that only a few of the Red Riders had come to pay their respects to King Dagonaut and that no Black Knight had arrived in the city. The king gave us leave to investigate the matter. Sir Evan, who happened to be in the city at that time, joined us, as did Arwaut, Bendu’s nephew.

  “But we did not have to search long for Sir Edwinem. That same day, we heard that the Black Knight with the White Shield had been found murdered in the forest, not far from the Yikarvara Inn, where he had briefly stayed.

  “He, one of the most valiant of Unauwen’s knights, one of his most noble and true paladins, he, the Invincible, had been defeated, not in a fair and honest duel, but through cowardly deceit. His premonition had come true: never again would he see his land, or his beloved Forèstèrra by the sea.”

  This, and more, was what Sir Ristridin told Tiuri, as they shared the watch. In and around the inn, all was quiet, and they were not disturbed.

  4 A SHOCK

  Tiuri was riding again with the Grey Knights along the Blue River; only it was not the Red Riders that they were following, but Sir Edwinem with the White Shield. Tiuri could see him riding in the distance, on the black horse Ardanwen, but he could not catch up with him and that made him very sad.

  “He has gone too far ahead,” said the knight who was riding alongside him. He thought at first that it was Ristridin, but then he realized the lord of Mistrinaut had taken his place. “Ristridin has gone to the Wild Wood,” the man said. “He could not ride on with us.”

  Tiuri was shocked to see Leor standing by the roadside, with a dagger in his hand and a mean grin on his face. He gasped and heard Bendu cry out, “There they are, the Red Riders! They are attacking! This is your fault, Tiuri. You brought them here!” Then Bendu rode up beside him and shook him angrily.

  Tiuri woke up. Ristridin’s squire was standing over him, shaking his shoulder.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” he said, laughing. “It’s time to get up.”

  Tiuri groaned as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. It took him a moment to separate his dreams from reality.

  He had sat for a long time with Sir Ristridin the previous evening. Neither of them had noticed the hourglass showing that their watch was over. When Tiuri finally went to bed, he immediately fell fast asleep, even though he had not expected to. But now he felt as though he had been riding all night.

  He got out of bed. Ristridin and Bendu’s squires, with whom he was sharing a room, were almost ready to leave. It was still dark outside and rather chilly.

  When he went downstairs, he found the Grey Knights already there; Ristridin and Bendu were talking to a pale and grumpy Leor.

  “So they did not say when they would return?” Tiuri heard Bendu say.

  “No, sir knight,” replied Leor. “I am certain they did not. And maybe they never will come back. If they know you’ve been here…”

  “How could they know that?” asked Ristridin.

  The manservant looked surprised by the question. “How?” he said. “A company like yours does not go unnoticed! Everyone along the Blue River must be talking about you. And when the Red Riders hear, they’ll be sure to make themselves scarce. Or at least I imagine they will.”

  “Indeed,” growled Bendu. “I’ve heard enough. You can go.”

  Then the knights discussed their plans. Should they ride onwards, or wait at the inn?

  “I think we should ride on,” said Bendu. “I do not trust that Leor at all. If necessary, we can leave one or two of our party here.”

  Tiuri hoped the others would agree with Bendu’s proposal. Whatever they decided, Tiuri would have to ride on and it would be good not to have to travel alone, as the Red Riders would be sure to come looking for him.

  “Sir Bendu,” he said. “I agree that it would be best for you to ride on…”

  “Is that right?” snapped Bendu. “Well, it’s certainly best for you, eh? You will be able to travel quickly and with a strong escort.”

  Tiuri fell silent after this harsh response. Sir Bendu seemed not to trust him or to like him. At least Ristridin knew why Tiuri thought it was a good idea for the knights to accompany him.

  As they ate breakfast, Tiuri kept glancing over at the leader of the Grey Knights. It was strange that he, Tiuri, was the one who was now carrying Sir Edwinem’s letter… even though he had never known Edwinem and had nothing to do with the daring deeds of the knights-errant. It would have been more obvious for Sir Ristridin to take on Edwinem’s task, as surely would have happened if he had been the one to find Edwinem. But, thanks to a peculiar set of circumstances, it was Tiuri who was carrying the important message close to his chest. What if he were to tell Ristridin? But Sir Edwinem had made him promise not to tell anyone. And yet, when he had said that, he would hardly have been thinking of his friend Ristridin.

  Tiuri sighed. He knew he would say nothing. Ristridin had not asked him about his secret, even though he probably suspected much. Sir Edwinem had entrusted Tiuri with the task, and he would have to carry it out, even if someone else seemed better suited.

  Then he felt a nudge in his ribs. “Hey, what are you daydreaming about?” said Sir Arwaut. “Are you ready? It’s time to go.”

  The landscape became hillier. Tiuri knew the mountains must be much closer now, although it was hard to see in the early morning mist.

  Tiuri rode beside Ilmar, Ristridin’s squire, a friendly boy of about his own age, who talked a lot about his master as they travelled along. He had not been serving Ristridin for long, but he was already full of admiration for him.

  They made fast progress, in spite of occasional stops to ask about the Red Riders or to search for their trail. Later that morning, the clouds cleared a little and a watery sun emerged. The road became stony and there were boulders lying here and there on the verge. The river had narrowed by that point and it too was full of rocks and stones, with white water splashing all around them.

  In the afternoon, they rode between rocky crags to their left and a dark pine forest on the right, on the opposite bank of the river. That forest would make a fine hiding place for Red Riders, thought Tiuri. Alert and tense, he was constantly on the lookout. The road was quiet and they met no one coming in the other direction. Sometimes they heard the echo of their horses’ hoofs. No one spoke. They all seemed to be on their guard.

  It was late in the afternoon when it finally happened. Suddenly, loud shouts came from the forest on the right.

  “This is it,” cried Bendu, reining in his horse and reaching for his sword. The others did the same.

  “Look!” cried Arwaut. “Up in the tree! I think it’s a man in red!”

  “And I can see men moving among the trees,” said Evan.

  Bendu urged on his horse and rode into the river. It was shallow and easy to ford, although the current was rather strong. Arwaut and their squires followed. Arrows flew at them from the forest, but none found a target.

  Before Tiuri knew what was happening, a man leapt down from the crags to the left of the road. Tiuri felt a sudden weight on his back and two hands around his throat. As Ardanwen reared up, whinnying, Tiuri tried to shake off the attacker. There was more shouting in the background, and other men jumped down from the rocks. Tiuri fell to the ground, his attacker on top of him.

  Later, he could never recall exactly what occurred in those seconds of confusion, which seemed to last for hours. But in a flash he understood the attacker was after both the letter and his life! They wrestled. Neither had the chance to reach for a weapon. All around were the soun
ds of hoofs stamping, men shouting, and weapons clashing.

  Finally, Tiuri overpowered his opponent, pinning him to the ground. For the first time, he saw the man’s face. It was wicked and cruel, and his mouth opened wide and cried out. Tiuri sensed danger and leapt to his feet, drawing his sword.

  Then someone seized him from behind, but this time he was ready, and, when he felt hands closing around his neck again, Tiuri fell backwards and took his second attacker by surprise. The man stayed on the ground where he had fallen, and did not move again. But then the first man stood up and launched himself at Tiuri. And he was followed by another man! One grabbed at his hands, while the other tugged at his clothes. Tiuri desperately tried to defend himself. The letter! These men wanted the letter! Ristridin’s horn sounded, and Tiuri shouted for help. At that moment he felt a sharp pain at the top of his left arm. One of them had stabbed him!

  Everything was fading to black, but Tiuri kept on fighting. More men seemed to arrive; there was so much shouting and whinnying, and all the while he went on struggling, even as he felt his strength ebbing away. But they did not have the letter – no, not yet! Just as his attackers finally let go of him, he lost consciousness.

  Tiuri came to as someone took hold of him again. He shot up with a scream, his hand on the place where he had hidden the letter.

  “Calm yourself,” said Sir Ristridin. “It’s only me! Just lie there.”

  Tiuri sank back down. To his utter relief, the letter was still there. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. The noise of the fight had stopped; he could hear only a few distant shouts. He opened his eyes again and looked up into Ristridin’s concerned face.

  “How do you feel?” asked the knight. “You’re wounded, but I do not think it is too serious.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” mumbled Tiuri, as he struggled to sit up and then looked around, feeling rather dizzy. The fight was apparently over. Two Red Riders lay close to him, both dead. Another man lay motionless nearby. He was not dressed in red, but he was not a member of the company of the Grey Knights either. Ristridin’s squire, Ilmar, was trying to calm an agitated group of horses. No one else was around. “Where are the others?” Tiuri asked.

  “They went after the Red Riders,” replied Ristridin, “who have fled into the forest.” He examined Tiuri’s wound with quick, capable hands. “The wound is indeed not too bad,” he said. “Wait a moment.” He fetched his bag and took out some bandages. Ilmar brought over a helmet full of water. Ristridin washed and bandaged Tiuri’s arm and said, “We shall have to find a better spot for you. This is not the most comfortable of places.” Without waiting for a response, he picked up Tiuri like a little boy and put him down by the side of the road, where he could lean against a rock. Then he made him drink a few sips from a bottle of spiced wine. “Now sit and rest quietly,” he said. “And you will soon feel better.”

  The horse Ardanwen walked over, lowered his head and nuzzled Tiuri.

  “That animal saved your life,” said Ristridin. “One of the riders was about to attack you with an axe, but Ardanwen gave him a good kick, and now he’s lying over there, dead.”

  Tiuri stroked the loyal creature’s head. “What actually happened?” he asked. “Everything’s still so confused.”

  “A gang of men attacked you all at once,” Ristridin replied. “You were already fighting two men, but then more of them came. We were able to come to your aid just in time, but if Ardanwen had not been there, we would probably have been too late.” He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked over at the opposite riverbank. Twilight was approaching and it was already dark among the trees. “I need to leave you on your own for a short while,” he said. “Here is my horn. Blow it if danger threatens.”

  Then he left, followed by his squire. Tiuri leant against the rock and looked down at the horn on his knees. He was tired and his wound was painful, but he was thankful that things had not turned out worse. Although… he didn’t yet know how the rest of the company had fared. Were they out there somewhere, fighting the Red Riders? Tiuri looked around. The dead bodies were not a pretty sight, so he focused his gaze on the forest instead. But he could see nothing among the dark trees. Tiuri took out the letter and looked at it. Then he heard footsteps, so he quickly tucked it away.

  It was Ristridin and Ilmar coming back. “We went to see if anyone was still hiding among the rocks,” said Ristridin, “but we found no one.” He turned to his squire. “Let us first take care of the dead,” he said. “We can bury them away from the road or build a cairn of stones over their bodies.”

  “Can I help?” asked Tiuri.

  “No, you just sit and rest,” said the knight. “You have already had enough exertion. Wait, I shall lay out a blanket for you and you can try to sleep a little.”

  Soon Tiuri was wrapped up in two blankets, with a saddle as a pillow. He could not imagine sleeping, however; he felt far too restless. Ristridin came and sat beside him, as Ilmar gathered wood and made a fire. It was almost completely dark by then.

  “Do you not need to go after the others?” asked Tiuri. “There seemed to be so many riders out there.”

  “There were no more than twenty,” said Ristridin. “And five of them are dead. No, I shall remain here, with you. You are the member of our company who is in the greatest danger. You were right when you said the riders would come for you. They may be running from us now, but I would still prefer not to leave you on your own.”

  “My thanks,” said Tiuri quietly. “But what about the others? Are there enough of them to take on the riders?”

  “For certain,” said Ristridin with a smile. “They have faced more fearsome foes. My only concern is whether they will catch up with them. When the riders realized they could not defeat you, they ran like rabbits.”

  “It was all so fast,” said Tiuri. “That man jumped on top of me. And then… I’m still not sure exactly what happened.”

  “The men who were shouting in the forest were intended as a distraction,” Ristridin told him. “And it worked at first. Some of our company had already crossed the river when the rest of the gang leapt down from the rocks. And they went straight for you. They merely tried to prevent us from coming to your aid. When they did not succeed, they fled across the river and into the forest. I wonder how they knew you were the one they were seeking.”

  “Ardanwen,” murmured Tiuri.

  “Because you were riding Sir Edwinem’s horse? Yes, that is possible,” said Ristridin.

  “Leor kept looking at Ardanwen,” said Tiuri, “and he mentioned the horse a few times. I think he must somehow have alerted the Red Riders.”

  “You could be right,” Ristridin agreed. “I am sure they have their spies.” He stood up. “We must remain patient until the others return,” he said. “And in the meantime, we should have something to eat. Don’t you think?”

  It was more than an hour before the sound of voices and hoofs announced the return of the rest of the party. Tiuri, who had dozed off after all, woke up with a start. When they came into view, he quickly counted them: all nine of them were there, and they had another man with them, whose hands were tied behind his back.

  Ristridin walked to meet them. “Well? How did it go?” he asked.

  “Killed six. Took one prisoner,” said Bendu, jumping down from his horse and throwing the reins to Ilmar. “The others fled.” He strode over to Tiuri. “How’s the lad?” he said.

  “A flesh wound in his arm,” Ristridin replied. “Nothing serious.”

  “You were lucky,” said Bendu to Tiuri. “I was afraid it was worse. Those riders were out to get you; it is good that you were not travelling alone.” His voice sounded as gruff as ever, but Tiuri could hear that his tone was different now.

  Sir Bendu finally believes I am to be trusted, he thought.

  “And how did you all fare?” asked Ristridin.

  “Oh, not too badly,” said Bendu. “Arwaut has a cut on his scalp and Evan’s squire has some bruising on his arm, but nothing
too serious.”

  Ristridin looked at the prisoner. He was a squat and muscular man with a furious face. He was not dressed in red, but wore chainmail over his ragged clothes.

  “Was he with them?” he asked.

  “Yes,” replied Bendu. “They were not only Red Riders. I noticed that two of the company were wearing the black armour of Eviellan’s soldiers. We killed one of them. And there were a few rogues like him. I would rather have captured a Red Rider to interrogate instead. This one swears he knows nothing.”

  “We shall question him again later,” said Ristridin.

  For a while, there was much to be done. The men unsaddled the horses and rubbed them down, bandaged and tended to the injuries, and prepared food. As they worked, Bendu told them what had happened.

  The Red Riders had clearly wished to avoid a confrontation; they had only stopped to fight when the knights had caught up with them. However, some of them had taken advantage of the commotion to flee. When darkness fell, it had become impossible to find them, so Bendu and his companions had returned. “But we will track down those men as well,” he concluded.

  After eating, they questioned the prisoner again. At first he refused to speak, but the threatening gazes of the Grey Knights soon loosened his tongue.

  “Where are you from?” asked Ristridin. “Are you a man of Eviellan?”

  “No,” said the man. “I’m from over there, in the forest.”

  “How did you come to join the Red Riders? And why did you attack us?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Answer the question!”

  “I really don’t know,” the man insisted. “It was no business of mine. I was just doing as I was told.”

  “So you are a man who fights for money, and who does evil on command?”

  “A man has to earn a living, doesn’t he? What do I know about good and evil? Yes, I served the Red Riders and they paid me for my services. But precious little, the scoundrels!”