The Letter for the King

  “That,” said Piak, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen on this journey.”

  “I agree,” said Tiuri.

  “Does the City of Dagonaut look like that?”

  Tiuri shook his head. “No,” he said. “This is more beautiful.”

  “It must be the most beautiful city in the world,” said Piak.

  Tiuri repeated the words of his message to himself and sang them quietly to Piak’s tune. Piak hummed along with him as they continued towards the city. But as they came closer and the sun hung in the west above the city, they both fell silent.

  Grassy bridleways and paved paths and stone steps split off from the main road and headed to different gates on the eastern side of the city. The gates were open, but intimidating guards stood at each one, with colourful shields and feathered helmets. Guards were posted along the low white walls as well.

  The two friends looked at each other and grinned from ear to ear.

  “We’re here! We’ve done it!” whispered Piak.

  “Almost,” Tiuri added.

  Tiuri and Piak kept to the main thoroughfare and, without thinking about it, they slowed their horses to a walking pace. There was so much to look at. Along the roads and paths were stone columns, decorated with carvings and strange symbols.

  Then they spotted a person who looked somewhat out of place in those beautiful surroundings. An old beggar sat on the ground near the city gate, leaning back against a column. He was wrapped in a torn and tattered cloak with a hood, and all they could see of him was his nose and his long grey tangled hair and beard. A walking stick lay beside him, and he held out a begging bowl. He called out to the friends and asked for alms.

  Tiuri took out the pouch of coins that the toll master had given him. He had little money left, but he threw all of it into the beggar’s bowl. Piak also gave everything he had: his brass farthing.

  The beggar mumbled his thanks and Tiuri and Piak were about to ride on. But the beggar’s voice stopped them. “You know, I would rather not thank you!” he shouted.

  “And why is that?” exclaimed Tiuri, who was closer to him.

  “You sit so high up there on your horse, traveller,” said the beggar. “From that height, it’s easy to toss me a coin, without even looking at my face! And now you will ride on and forget about me. I see you’re impatient and that you find me a nuisance. And you are right. I am only a beggar, who has caused you delay, but who fortunately is soon passed by.”

  Tiuri looked down at the beggar, not knowing quite what to say. And yet he couldn’t find it in his heart to ride on, no matter how much he longed to do so. The old man’s voice had sounded so sad, so bitter and without hope.

  “What are you waiting for?” said the beggar. “Ride on, stranger. This is the City of King Unauwen, the city where poverty does not exist. Enter the city and forget me, just as everyone forgets me. Why should you dismount and stoop to talk to a wretch like me?”

  “Do not be angry with me!” said Tiuri. “I did not intend to insult you. I am sorry that I forgot in my haste to pause with you for a while. I have given you all the coins I had, and I would like to help you if I could.”

  “Ah!” said the beggar. “I thank you! You would like to help me… if you could. I am happy enough with that. I need no more. Farewell. May you achieve all you deserve and receive all that I would wish for you. Yes, farewell!” He turned away, picked up his stick and started struggling to his feet.

  Piak put his hand on Tiuri’s arm and whispered, “Come on!”

  But Tiuri couldn’t take his eyes off the beggar. He felt very sorry for him and he was suddenly certain that he didn’t want to enter the city until he’d looked this man in the face. Ignoring Piak’s whispers, he jumped down from his horse. He held out his hand to help the beggar and said, “I am in a hurry, but not so much that I can’t stop to prove to you that I do want to help you and to know you better.”

  The beggar allowed Tiuri to assist him to his feet. He stood before Tiuri, huddled over his stick, his face almost entirely hidden by his hood and his hair. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “You are just as I hoped you would be. I thank you – not for your coins, but for standing before me now.”

  “Would you look at me?” asked Tiuri.

  The beggar bowed more deeply and did not reply.

  “Would you look at me?” asked Tiuri again. His heart had started to pound. He didn’t know why, but he knew he couldn’t take another step until he had looked the beggar in the eye. Only later would he come to understand exactly what he had felt at that moment. His compassion had given way to curiosity. And added to that was a strange sense of tension, as if it was vitally important that the beggar looked at him, as if a lot depended on this moment.

  Then the beggar responded, “Very well. I shall do so… Fool!”

  And Tiuri suddenly knew he was in danger. He wasn’t shocked when the beggar lifted his face; he knew whose eyes would be looking at him… those cold, mean eyes, like a snake. Slither! Finally, he was facing the enemy he had feared for so long!

  The man pulled something from his stick and thrust it at Tiuri. A dagger! But Tiuri was ready. He parried the jab and received only a small scratch. Then he forced him to drop the dagger. But the man immediately closed his hands around Tiuri’s throat. Behind him, Piak gasped, “Slither!”

  Tiuri struggled with Slither. The man was stronger than him, but Tiuri was not afraid. He freed himself from the clutches of those clawing hands and fought to overpower his enemy. Then help arrived: first Piak, and then some guards and passers-by. Slither let go of Tiuri and made a run for it.

  “He’s getting away!” yelled Piak. “Get him! Catch the murderer!”

  The guards drew their swords and ran after Slither. Piak turned to take care of his friend. “Are you all right, Tiuri?” he asked. “You’re bleeding!”

  Tiuri wiped his forehead. “It’s nothing,” he said, still panting from the exertion.

  “You gave me such a fright,” said Piak. “I saw that dagger and I thought, I thought…”

  “I could feel it coming,” said Tiuri. “When he looked at me, I knew who he was… no… even before that, I think…”

  He watched the guards chasing after the fleeing Slither. Yes, they had him! Only then did he notice all the people standing around him, asking what was going on, with expressions of surprise and fear on their faces.

  The guards returned, bringing the beggar with them. “And now,” their leader said, “we’d like to know what is the meaning of this behaviour!”

  “As would I!” shrieked the beggar. “What have I done to be treated in such a way?”

  “You tried to murder him!” cried Piak.

  “That is not true!” shouted the beggar. “He attacked me!”

  “Liar!” Piak yelled furiously. “Look, your dagger’s still there on the ground. And you murdered the messenger too, the messenger from Dangria.”

  The beggar tried to move, but the guards had a firm hold on him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he said.

  “You know very well!” Tiuri said, calmly. “You’ve been following us for a long time, Slither!”

  The beggar threw him a look of hatred. He started struggling again and, for a moment, it seemed as if he might pull away, but he did not succeed. Then he said, “Curses on you, Tiuri! Go into the city and take your important message to the king. Be proud that you have carried out your task so well! But know that you cannot change the fate of this country. May strife and discord come upon this land, and fire and blood rain down upon this city!”

  Tiuri shivered, not so much because of the words themselves, but because of the tone they were spoken in.

  “Silence!” called one of the guards, sounding both angry and shocked. Then he turned to the two friends, “Who are you? And who is he? How do you know him?”

  “He is a spy,” replied Tiuri, “a spy from Eviellan.”

  “Well, now you are our prisoner,” the guard said to Slither,
“the prisoner of King Unauwen. And you will accompany us into the city.”

  “Then I refuse to speak another word,” said Slither.

  The guard looked back at Tiuri and Piak. “I shall ask again,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “We have come from the Kingdom of Dagonaut,” Tiuri replied quietly, “with a message for King Unauwen.”

  The guard seemed surprised and concerned. “Then follow me,” he said. “Some of my men will escort you to the palace.”

  5 KING UNAUWEN

  Finally, the two friends passed through the gate and entered the City of Unauwen. Slither was led away and was soon out of their sight. Then, escorted by two guards, Tiuri and Piak were on their way to the palace.

  Tiuri noticed hardly anything about the houses, the streets and the people around him. He sat up straight on his horse, his eyes fixed on the guard who was riding ahead of them, and he could think only about the message. Soon he would have completed his task and kept his word. When he glanced over at Piak, he saw that the expression on his friend’s face was a serious one, too.

  Tiuri started to pay more attention to his surroundings as they reached the White River, which flowed through the middle of the city; it was beautiful, with clear, silvery water, but it was not as wide as the Rainbow River. King Unauwen’s palace stood on a hill on the opposite bank. It was built of grey and white stone with low walls around it, and terraced gardens running down to the water’s edge.

  They rode over a wooden bridge, went through one gate and stopped at a second, where some soldiers stood guard. The men accompanying Tiuri and Piak asked to be let through.

  “Who goes there?” asked the leader of the guards.

  “Two messengers for King Unauwen.”

  “You may pass,” came the reply.

  At the next gate, they had to dismount. There were guards there too, who opened the gate for them after a brief exchange with their escorts, who then took their leave of the boys and rode back to their post.

  “We’ll look after your horses,” said one of the palace guards. “Go inside and report to the captain of the guard.”

  Tiuri and Piak entered a large, bustling courtyard. A wide staircase led up into the palace. A young knight with a white shield approached them and introduced himself as the captain of the guard. “What is your request?” he asked.

  “We would like an audience with King Unauwen,” said Tiuri.

  The knight studied them with a somewhat puzzled expression. “Why?” he asked. “Who are you?”

  “Our names are Piak and Tiuri. We have brought a message for King Unauwen. A message of great importance.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “Sir Edwinem of Forèstèrra.”

  The young knight seemed surprised, but all he said was, “Follow me.” He led them up the stairs and into a large hall. “Wait here,” he said, “and I shall announce your arrival to the king. What is the message?”

  “I can tell that only to the king himself,” replied Tiuri. “And I need to do so as soon as possible. Right away!”

  “I see,” said the knight. “I shall inform the king. But first you must tell me…”

  Tiuri pulled out the cord from around his neck and showed him the ring. “Here is the proof that I was sent by Sir Edwinem,” he said, interrupting the knight. “Now please let us see the king immediately!”

  For a moment, the knight stared at him wide-eyed. “Fine,” he said. “Come with me.”

  They walked through a series of rooms and finally the knight stopped at a door. He knocked and went in. He soon reappeared and said, “King Unauwen bids you enter.”

  Tiuri was about to enter, but saw that Piak wasn’t following him. He stopped in the doorway and whispered, “Come on, Piak!”

  Piak shook his head.

  “Now!” said Tiuri.

  “No,” said Piak.

  “You have to be there!” said Tiuri impatiently.

  “No,” repeated Piak. “You should go alone. Really, it’s better that way.”

  “King Unauwen bids you enter,” the knight repeated.

  “Go on!” whispered Piak. “You can’t keep the king waiting!”

  Tiuri had no choice but to go in alone, but he was disappointed that Piak didn’t want to come with him. As he stepped through the doorway, he realized his legs were shaking. The door quietly closed behind him.

  The room was not a large one. Tiuri had enough time to notice that it was white and blue with a row of columns on either side – and then he was standing before King Unauwen.

  The king rose from his seat and looked at Tiuri. He was an old man with a silvery-white beard and hair. His long robe was also white and he wore no adornments except a slim band of gold on his head. But no one could have doubted that he was a king: his posture was regal and his face was noble and wise. He reminded Tiuri very much of Menaures; his eyes in particular were like those of the hermit.

  “Step closer, messenger,” said the king. His voice, too, was the voice of a king. Tiuri walked over to the king and knelt, as he had often done before King Dagonaut. For a moment, his voice failed him. Then he said, “Your Majesty, I bring you a message from Sir Edwinem with the White Shield. But first I must tell you that Sir Edwinem is dead. Before he died, he gave me a letter to deliver to you, and his ring… Here it is.”

  King Unauwen took the ring. “Rise,” he said.

  Tiuri obeyed.

  The king stared silently at the ring. Then, slowly, he said, “You bring sad tidings, messenger. How did my knight die?”

  “He was murdered, sire,” replied Tiuri. “By Red Riders from Eviellan.”

  “Sir Edwinem… murdered… by riders from Eviellan!” repeated the king. “And I fear there is more bad news to come. Give me the letter, messenger.”

  “Sire, I no longer have it,” said Tiuri. “Sir Edwinem ordered me to destroy it if I feared it might be taken from me. And I had to do just that. But I have learnt the message by heart.”

  The king looked at him intently and then he asked an unexpected question. “Who exactly are you, messenger?”

  “My name is Tiuri, sire.”

  “Well then, Tiuri, tell me your message. I am listening.”

  Tiuri opened his mouth but then, to his horror, he realized that he did not know what to say. He couldn’t remember a word! Not one single word of the message he had repeated to himself so often… But that was impossible. If he kept calm and thought about it, it would surely come back to him. Tiuri closed his eyes and thought frantically. But his mind seemed to be empty. A shiver ran through his whole body. Tiuri had forgotten the message!

  He opened his eyes again and looked at the king. Did the king seem impatient? Tiuri hung his head and felt his face flush with shame. He had to remember… He had to!

  Then he thought of something. Piak knew the message too! He had even written a tune for it. The tune… Tiuri began to hum it, and the words immediately came back to him. He raised his head and saw King Unauwen looking at him with a puzzled expression.

  He wanted to explain that his friend Piak had written a tune to go with the words. But first the message! He took a deep breath and then spoke the mysterious words, slowly, but clearly and without any hesitation.

  Tiuri could see the impact of what he said on the king. He thought he saw shock in his eyes, and horror, then grief, finally followed by fury. When Tiuri stopped speaking, the king turned away. He suddenly looked much older. For a brief moment, the room was very silent.

  “Repeat what you just said,” the king ordered. Tiuri did so. King Unauwen listened to his words, still with his face turned away. Then he stood motionlessly for a while, with his head bowed, as though lost in thought.

  Tiuri didn’t dare to say anything. He didn’t even dare to look at the king. The silence seemed to go on forever. He started to wonder if the king had forgotten about him. Should he leave? But at that moment, the king raised his head, as if he had come to a decision. He looked at Tiuri and said, “Forgive me,
Tiuri. I had to allow this news to sink in. The message you have brought me is a grave one, and of great importance for this land and its people. Are you able to write down the words, too, as they were in the letter?”

  “Yes, sire,” said Tiuri. “I… I don’t know what they mean, but I learnt them by heart, including the spelling.”

  “Good,” said the king. “Now tell me how Sir Edwinem came to charge you with the task of delivering this message. Come.” He laid his hand on Tiuri’s shoulder and led him to a corner of the room, where there were some chairs and a table. He sat down and asked Tiuri to join him. “Now tell me,” he repeated.

  So Tiuri told him. He told him about the old man who had knocked on the door of the chapel at night, and how his request for help had led to the dying Sir Edwinem giving him the mission.

  “And so then you set off,” said King Unauwen, “across the Kingdom of Dagonaut, and over the mountains, through this land, all the way to my city. That was a long journey, and a dangerous one too, I should warrant. The enemies that killed Sir Edwinem must have pursued you as well.”

  Tiuri nodded.

  The king smiled at him, a kind, heart-warming smile. He shook Tiuri’s hand and said, “Thank you, Tiuri.”

  Tiuri felt a wave of happiness and gratitude wash over him. He had completed his mission! Then he remembered Piak.

  “Sire,” he said. “Would you perhaps thank my friend Piak too? He has done just as much as I. Without him, you would never have heard the message. He is, he has…”

  He fell silent as the king banged a gong that was beside the table. At this signal, the young knight entered the room. He bowed and said, “What does my king wish?”

  “The other boy,” said the king. “Send him in.”