The Letter for the King

  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 buri
ed 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 door
way 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.”

  To the city? Tiuri couldn’t do that! He had no time to waste. And anyway, he knew he really couldn’t explain anything about his mission. The task itself was a secret and that meant keeping quiet about the events that had led up to it. He stepped back and said, “I cannot go with you to the city. But I am no thief. I assure you on my word of honour!”

  “Ha, it gets better!” cried the man. “Word of honour! How dare you say that, you villain?!”

  “And how dare you call me a villain?!” shouted Tiuri. He was furious that anyone would call him that. If everything had gone to plan, he would have been a knight by now, and treated with respect by everyone he met. A villain? Tiuri, who had been chosen for such an important task?!