The Letter for the King

  Ilmar too was surprised to see Tiuri. “I see you have Ardanwen again,” he said.

  “Yes, he is my horse now,” said Tiuri proudly.

  “And did our trick help?”

  “Yes and no,” replied Tiuri. “Not entirely. But it all ended well.”

  “I had gathered as much,” said Ristridin. “But you must tell me more! I want to hear what news there is from the Kingdom of Unauwen, and about the land of Eviellan.”

  Sir Ristridin also had stories to tell Tiuri. Tiuri heard that the Grey Knights had caught up with the Red Riders and punished them, and that they had followed the trail of the Knight with the Red Shield to the east, close to the City of Dagonaut. When the king heard that the Grey Knights were in the area, he had called for them, as he had need of his knights-errant.

  “Bendu and myself, in particular,” Ristridin told Tiuri. “We are older and experienced and we were already planning to go to the Wild Wood anyway.”

  “To the Wild Wood?” asked Tiuri.

  “Yes,” said Ristridin. “King Dagonaut said he had heard strange rumours about the Wild Wood, about robbers who shun the daylight, about wild hunters and Men in Green. And he wants us to investigate and find out which of those rumours are true. He is concerned about dangers lurking in the Wild Wood that might threaten the kingdom, so we need to head there immediately. After that, we may continue our quest for vengeance. As the king said, the interests of our kingdom must take priority. I cannot help but admit that the king is right, even though I am sorry that we have not yet found the Knight with the Red Shield. The king said one of our number could continue the hunt. So Bendu has headed south, as we believe the Knight with the Red Shield has now fled to Eviellan. And I am on my way to the Wild Wood. Arwaut will be here soon, with his men, to accompany me. We are to travel through the Robbers’ Wood and across the Green River to our goal.”

  “Did you choose to go to the Wild Wood yourself?” asked Tiuri.

  Ristridin nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I remembered something Edwinem once said to me: ‘You must do as you have planned: head into the Wild Wood. A knight should know his own land.’” Ristridin paused for a moment and then added, “We have built a mound upon Edwinem’s grave, close to the Yikarvara Inn, with a cross on it, and his white shield. Another grave lies beside it, that of Vokia, his squire. We saw him again in the City of Dagonaut, but he died shortly afterwards. The shock of his master’s death proved too much for him.”

  “The stranger outside the chapel…” said Tiuri. After a moment’s silence, he asked, “When do you think you will see the others again?”

  “The four of us have agreed to meet at Castle Ristridin in the spring. Bendu may have news from Eviellan. The plan was initially for Evan to go with Bendu, but he decided it would be better to go to his own country first and to report to his king.”

  “And so you parted company,” said Tiuri.

  “Yes, Bendu went to the south, Evan to the west, and Arwaut and I to the Wild Wood. It is a shame you have to go to King Dagonaut or you could have accompanied us.”

  “I should have liked that,” said Tiuri.

  “Then join us at Castle Ristridin in the spring… or sooner, if the weather allows.”

  “With great pleasure,” said Tiuri. “If I am able.”

  “Of course, it is possible that King Dagonaut might give you another task,” said Ristridin. “He’ll be sure to reinforce the patrols on the southern border when he hears your news. The attention of the King of Eviellan is now focused on the Kingdom of Unauwen alone, a country whose king and crown prince he detests, and which is perhaps a worthier conquest than our own land. But the Grey River is all that separates our land from Eviellan, and that makes us an easier target.”

  Then he raised his head. “Listen,” he said. “I hear hoofs in the distance. That will be Arwaut and his men.”

  It was indeed Arwaut, and so Tiuri was able to greet him too. Tiuri had to take his leave of the knights the next day, but he hoped to see them again, the following year, at Ristridin’s brother’s castle.

  Tiuri continued his journey without any further incidents or encounters, but as he was approaching the City of Dagonaut, he remembered a promise he had made. A promise to Marius, the Fool in the Forest, the first person who had helped him on his journey. He had promised the Fool that he would visit him on his way home to tell him about his adventures on his journey to the place “where the sun goes down”. He obviously could not disappoint him.

  Tiuri left the road when he spotted a side path, but he could not find the place where he had first met the Fool. He wandered around for a while and was starting to think he might not be looking in the right area when he heard a shout, “Ho, there, fine horse and rider! What are you looking for?”

  It was the Fool. He emerged from the bushes, twirling the curls of his beard, and looked very pleased to see Tiuri. “Rider, traveller and fine black horse,” he said. “Who are you seeking and where are you going? Do you remember me?”

  “I am looking for you, Marius,” said Tiuri, climbing down from his horse. “I promised I would return and talk with you about where I’d been, didn’t I?”

  “I know where you have been,” said the Fool. “To where the sun goes down. But I told no one. Not a soul. It was a secret. Riders in red came and so did knights in grey and they all asked about the secret. But I didn’t tell them. And I didn’t tell my mother either, or my brothers.”

  “I thank you, Marius,” said Tiuri with a smile.

  “And now you have returned, traveller, and you are different and yet you are the same. Will you come with me to the cabin now and talk with me?”

  “Of course,” Tiuri replied.

  The Fool stroked Ardanwen’s nose and looked happily at Tiuri. “And you have come to visit me!” he said. “You are my guest! My mother will cook food for you. And I shall say to my father and my brothers, ‘He’s here to visit me. He’s a stranger to you, but he’s my friend. He has been to where the sun goes down.’ Tell me, friend, where does the sun go down?”

  “I didn’t travel that far,” Tiuri said. “But I’ve heard it goes down in the sea.”

  “The sea? What’s that?”

  “It’s made of water.”

  “Like a stream, or a spring?”

  “No, much bigger.”

  “Like a river? Like a lake?”

  “Much bigger even than that,” said Tiuri. “The sea is so big that there’s nothing but water, as far as the eye can see. Water and more water, all the way to the end of the world.”

  “And that’s where the sun goes down?”

  “Yes.”

  The Fool thought for a moment. “That’s good,” he said. “Then the sun can cool down, after shining so brightly all day long. The sun goes down in the sea, in the water. 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.

  Tiuri smiled at him. “Take me to your cabin,” he said, “and I shall talk to you for as long as you want.”

  “We shall talk together,” said the Fool. “I waited for you every day. I knew you would return. And now you are travelling to where the sun comes up. Do you know where the sun comes up?”

  “No,” said Tiuri, “I don’t know that. So you see that you’re right, and that there are still more secrets out there.”

  6 ACCEPTANCE
br />   Tiuri stayed overnight at the Fool’s cabin and travelled on to the Yikarvara Inn the next day. Along the way, he also paid a brief visit to the graves of Sir Edwinem of Forèstèrra and Vokia, his squire.

  The innkeeper recognized Ardanwen and so he also remembered Tiuri.

  “You are the young man who wished to speak to the Black Knight with the White Shield, heaven rest his soul,” he said. “So how is it that you have returned on his horse?”

  “The horse belongs to me now,” said Tiuri.

  “Really?” said the innkeeper, studying him suspiciously. “Who are you? Riders in red and knights in grey came here, looking for you. It has been a few weeks, but I remember it very well.”

  “I am a messenger,” said Tiuri, “on my way to King Dagonaut with a letter from King Unauwen.” The innkeeper would have to make do with that explanation.

  Tiuri slept at the inn that night – or rather, he lay on a bed, as he slept hardly a wink.

  It was just a short distance from the inn to the city and it was still early in the morning as Tiuri approached his destination. He felt rather peculiar. It seemed somehow strange that his king’s city still looked exactly the same. He gazed at the chapel where his adventure had begun over a month and a half ago and looked at the towers rising up above the city walls; the royal standard was flying on the towers of the palace, showing that Dagonaut was in residence.

  Tiuri thought about Piak and wondered what he would have said now. Would the City of Dagonaut have disappointed him, as Dangria had at first? The city did, after all, look rather like Dangria, even though it was larger.

  Tiuri reined in his horse, took the old habit from his bag and put it on. He wanted to remain unnoticed as he entered the city, where so many people knew him, and to speak to no one until he had seen King Dagonaut. As he rode to the western gate, a group of riders came in the opposite direction: two knights, followed by squires and archers. The knights were young and they looked magnificent, with their gleaming weapons, coloured cloaks and falcons on their wrists. Tiuri was startled to recognize them as his friends Arman and Jussipo. They galloped past without paying him any heed, and he watched them go until they disappeared over a hill.

  I could have been with them, thought Tiuri. If I hadn’t listened to that voice, maybe now I would be going out hunting with my fellow knights in the Royal Forest. But he knew he did not wish for things to be any different. He would not have wanted to miss out on his adventures.

  The guards let him through the gate, but not without remark.

  “Your horse is finer than your habit, monk!” one of them called out.

  “I am no monk,” said Tiuri. “I am a messenger with news from the west for King Dagonaut.”

  He rode through the familiar streets and soon came to the square where the palace stood. Opposite the palace was an inn, with a shield of blue and gold hanging beside the door, the shield of Tiuri the Valiant. Tiuri hesitated for a moment. Should he go inside and greet his parents? No, he should go to the king first. That was more important.

  The palace guards asked him who he was.

  “A messenger for King Dagonaut,” he said again.

  “Who sent you and what is your name?”

  “King Unauwen sent me, and Tiuri is my name.”

  The guards recognized him then and allowed him to enter. Tiuri left Ardanwen in the care of a couple of grooms in the courtyard and soon found himself in the great hall, where the king’s visitors had to wait. He hoped the king would be able to receive him soon.

  A knight entered the room and, when he spotted Tiuri, he cried out.

  Tiuri looked up. “Father!” he cried.

  They ran towards each other and embraced.

  “Father!” repeated Tiuri.

  Sir Tiuri smiled at him joyfully. “Is all well with you, my son?” he asked.

  “Yes… Oh yes, Father.”

  “Are you the messenger from King Unauwen?”

  “Yes, Father,” said Tiuri. “How are you? And how is Mother?”

  “Everything is fine,” said Sir Tiuri. “The king wishes to see you now. I’m to take you to him.” However, he still showed no sign of doing so, but stood there, studying his son. “You’re taller,” he said. Then he placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Come,” he said. “I’ll take you to the king. We shall talk again later.”

  *

  A few moments later, Tiuri was standing before King Dagonaut and looking into his familiar face. It was a strong face, with bright, sharp eyes, framed by thick brown hair and a short beard. The only other person in the room was Tiuri’s father, who had stepped back and was standing beside the door.

  Tiuri bowed to the king and handed him the letter from Unauwen. Then he said, “Sire, I would also like to explain why I ran from the chapel on midsummer’s eve.”

  “I am sure you would,” said King Dagonaut. “I have already heard some of the details from Sir Ristridin, but I wish to hear the whole story from you. You left with no warning or explanation and were absent for a long time. Although it was not so very long for a journey to the Kingdom of Unauwen.”

  He studied Tiuri as closely as his father had done. “Have you greeted your father?” he asked.

  “Yes, sire.”

  “And your mother?”

  “No, sire,” said Tiuri.

  “That is good.” The king broke the seals on Unauwen’s letter, which consisted of many closely written sheets of paper. He gave the letter a cursory glance and then looked up at Tiuri. “I wish to hear your story and your explanation, Tiuri, son of Tiuri,” he said, “but first I shall read what the great king in the west has written to me. Go now with your father and return to me in an hour.”

  Tiuri bowed once again and said he would obey.

  He accompanied his father to the inn, where he was reunited with his mother. The hour was soon over and Tiuri had not come close to finishing his story when he and his father had to return to the palace. This time he was admitted to the king’s presence on his own.

  Tiuri explained to the king why he had run away from the chapel instead of keeping his vigil until seven o’clock in the morning.

  “The stranger asked me for help,” he said, “and I could not refuse. And after I had sworn to Sir Edwinem that I would deliver the letter, I had to keep my promise.”

  “That is true,” said King Dagonaut. “And was it difficult to complete your task?”

  “At times,” said Tiuri. “But I was helped by many people.”

  The king tapped the letter, which he was holding in his hand. “King Unauwen mentioned you in his letter,” he said. He took another long look at Tiuri. “You have won a sword, a ring, and a horse,” he said, “but still you are not yet a knight.”

  “N-no, sire,” said Tiuri, not sure what to make of the king’s words. Did King Dagonaut approve of his actions? He had such a peculiar smile on his face.

  The king did not speak for a while. Tiuri, too, was silent.

  “Well,” said the king finally, “is there nothing else that you would like to say to me or tell me?”

  “No, sire,” said Tiuri. What else could he say? He had told the king everything that he needed to know.

  “And nothing to ask, Tiuri, son of Tiuri?”

  Yes, there certainly was something that Tiuri wanted to ask!

  “S-sire,” he stammered. “You just said that I am not yet a knight. Would you… will you make me a knight?”

  King Dagonaut rose from his throne. “Make you a knight?” he repeated slowly. “You chose, of your own free will, to run away before I was to knight you. Do you think that now, over a month and a half later, I should act as if nothing has happened? Midsummer’s day is long gone. Why should I make you a knight now?”

  “I-I had hoped you might still do it,” Tiuri said.

  “Once every four years, young men are chosen to be knighted,” said the king. “They are tested beforehand and have to abide by many rules. It is their duty to spend the night before the cere
mony in reflection and vigil, and not to heed any voices from outside. If they cannot or will not obey, they have broken a rule and proven that they are not prepared to do whatever it takes to become a knight. And that is what happened in your case, Tiuri.”

  “But…” Tiuri began. He couldn’t speak another word. What he had wanted to say was, “But I could not have reacted any differently…”

  “Tell me honestly, Tiuri,” the king continued. “If you had the chance to spend another night of vigil in the chapel and, once again, someone called out and asked for your help, what would you do?”

  Tiuri looked at him. He suddenly felt very calm.

  “I would do the same,” he replied.

  King Dagonaut nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “You would do the same, even though you know what the consequences would be. And you shall have to accept those consequences.”

  Tiuri raised his head. “Yes, sire,” he said, loud and clear.

  “Even though that means you will not be knighted.”

  “Even though that means I will not be knighted,” repeated Tiuri firmly.

  King Dagonaut nodded again and said, “You may leave now, Tiuri. I expect to see you back at the palace this evening. You still owe me obedience, not only because I am your king, but also because you are in my service as a squire.”

  Tiuri bowed and took his leave of the king.

  He left the palace and returned to the inn, where his mother was waiting for him. His father arrived a little later. They made him tell them more about his adventures, but his mind was elsewhere. He was still thinking about his conversation with King Dagonaut. He realized now that, over the past few days, he had been counting on the king knighting him. Slither’s curse had come true.

  “Is something troubling you?” asked Tiuri’s mother, as he paused between stories.

  “Tiuri must be tired,” said his father. “He has been through so much in such a short time and he still needs to get used to being back in the city and with us.”