The Letter for the King

  He tried to think about other things than his task and his enemies, attempting to fill his mind with thoughts of his friends, his parents, King Dagonaut and the celebrations in the city. He wondered what had happened in his absence. Had the ceremony seemed strange after one of the future knights had run away from the chapel? That had surely never happened before. Had the owner of the horse reported him to the sheriff? Had the woodcutter’s boy delivered the message? Had the friends who were keeping vigil with him in the chapel also heard the stranger’s request? He thought not. Arman had seen him slip away, but he hadn’t said a word.

  Tiuri relived the moment in the chapel… the scratching on the window, the whispering voice… If only none of it had happened, he would be a knight by now. This is so peculiar, he thought. I’m lying here, and I still haven’t been knighted, but I have a task ahead of me that would be a challenge for a seasoned adventurer…

  He sighed. “You are still young and have no reputation for your valiant deeds,” the stranger had said. “And yet I know I can trust you.”

  Tiuri’s thoughts became muddled and leapt from one thing to another, although they kept returning to the same problems and events. It was exhausting. And all the while, he remained alert, fearing danger.

  I must sleep, he thought. I have a long way to travel tomorrow. But still he couldn’t fall asleep, even though he’d often slept outside before, in the woods near Tehuri, his father’s castle. But that forest was a peaceful, friendly place, and there had been no enemies to fear.

  He changed position and closed his eyes again. When sleep finally came, it was uneasy and full of troubled dreams.

  It was light when Tiuri awoke, and the trees were alive with birdsong. He yawned and stretched. He felt weary and stiff and his hair was damp with dew. The black horse, however, seemed bright and fresh and looked at him with alert eyes.

  “Good morning,” said Tiuri. “We need to get going, eh? I can’t say I’m itching to set off again. But I must admit that everything looks very different in the morning light.” He looked around. His fears of the previous night had been unfounded. There was no one else nearby.

  He was soon back in the saddle, after a meagre breakfast that had consisted of the last of the bread and an apple. When he reached the Great Road, it seemed to be deserted. It was still early in the morning, probably not much later than seven o’clock, but still Tiuri did not travel on the road, instead keeping parallel to it, as he had the previous day. The journey went fairly quickly, as the trees were widely spaced and there was little undergrowth.

  Tiuri rode on for a while without meeting anyone or seeing anything of note. His tiredness disappeared and he was feeling quite cheerful. It was a beautiful day; the sun shone through the trees, lending the leaves a golden glow. The journey to Unauwen’s kingdom no longer seemed quite so long and dangerous.

  When Tiuri spotted some bushes with red berries growing on them, he dismounted to pick as many as he could. As he was picking the berries, he heard a familiar sound. The click-clack of horses’ hoofs! He crouched behind the bushes and peered through the leaves. As the horsemen came by, his cheerful mood evaporated. Two Red Riders!

  They were riding quickly westwards and looked neither right nor left. Tiuri stayed perfectly still until the sound of the hoofs had died away. Then he walked to the road and looked in both directions. There was no one in sight, but danger had come so close. It was lucky he had not chosen to ride along the road!

  Tiuri climbed back onto the horse and thought: I need to get away from the road. Those two riders weren’t paying attention, but if they’d been looking they’d have seen me, or at least my trail. I should go more to the south and ride through the forest.

  So he did just that, but he soon realized that it was not going to be easy to keep heading in the right direction.

  Around midday, he came to a narrow path, which he decided to follow. A little later, he ate his last apple. He had already finished the berries, so he had nothing left to eat. Tiuri was starving but he knew that he could not spare the time to go looking for food.

  When he came to a fork in the path, Tiuri stopped, uncertain which way to go.

  “Ho, there, fine horse and rider!” came a voice from behind him. “Where are you going? Don’t go straight on. No, not straight on. Come this way instead!”

  Tiuri was startled. He looked around to see a man, who appeared to have stepped out from the undergrowth. The man walked up to him and repeated his words, “Don’t go straight on, stranger, traveller. No, not straight on. Come this way instead. The way to my house! Have you come to visit me, fine black horse and strange rider?”

  The man was a peculiar sight. He was short and stocky, with wild dark hair and a curly beard, and dressed in ragged brown trousers and a grey sheepskin. He stood there, barefoot, with his hands on his hips. “Why do you not wish me a good day, stranger on your fine black horse?” he asked. “Why do you not greet me, rider, traveller? Why not wish me a good day? I am the Fool in the Forest.” He came closer and held out a hand to the horse. “You see, your horse has wished me a good day,” he said. “Why not you, strange rider? You may call me the Fool in the Forest. That’s what everyone calls me. Everyone but my mother. She calls me Marius.”

  “Ah, good day,” said Tiuri, pulling on the reins.

  “No, do not ride away!” cried the bearded man. “Do not ride away! Talk to me, stranger, traveller. And come with me to my cabin!”

  Tiuri saw that the man had round, bright blue eyes, and a childlike expression. He did not seem at all dangerous. He just looked disappointed that Tiuri was leaving.

  “What do you want me to say?” he asked.

  “I want you to talk to me. Tell me where you came from,” said the man. “And where you are going, and who you are. I am the Fool in the Forest – that’s what they all call me, the woodcutters and the charcoal burners, and my father and my brothers call me the same. But my mother calls me Marius.” He took hold of the reins and looked up pleadingly at Tiuri.

  “Dear Marius,” said Tiuri. “I have wished you a good day, but I really cannot stay to talk. I am in a hurry and I must keep on going.”

  “Why are you in a hurry? Why? You really can call me ‘Fool’, you know. I don’t mind. I am never in a hurry. And the trees are never in a hurry to grow. Some animals may hurry, but they never have to keep on going like you do, except perhaps for the birds that move on in winter. So why are you in a hurry? Why do you need to keep on going? Come with me to my cabin. And I shall tell my father and my mother that you have come to see me and to talk with me.”

  “Another time,” said Tiuri, gently pulling the reins away from the man. “I cannot talk to you now. I have to move on.”

  “Move on, and on, and then on some more?”

  “That’s right,” said Tiuri.

  “Where to?” asked the Fool. “Where are you going in such a hurry, strange rider on your fine black horse, rider with your odd clothing?”

  Tiuri was growing rather impatient. “Truly,” he said, “I have no time. Let me travel onwards.”

  “But where to, where to?” shouted the Fool.

  “Far away,” answered Tiuri.

  “Are you following the sun? The beautiful white and yellow and orange sun, the golden ball?”

  “That’s it,” said Tiuri. “I’m following the sun.” Why was the Fool shouting? Every Red Rider for miles around would hear him!

  “There’s no one else around here,” said the Fool, as though he had guessed Tiuri’s thoughts. “Mother is spinning in the cabin and Father will be home soon, with my brothers. They’re chopping wood in the valley over there.” He pointed to the east. “Hardly anyone ever comes here,” he continued. “And they never come to see the Fool in the Forest. They pass through sometimes, but they never come here for me.” He looked sadly at Tiuri.

  Tiuri sighed. He was actually starting to feel a little sorry for the man. “If I had time, I would talk to you,” he said. “But I really must b
e going.”

  “Following the sun.”

  “Yes, and I have already spoken to you for quite a long time now.”

  “No, no, not a long time at all,” said the Fool, reaching up into his thick mop of hair to scratch his head. “Not long at all, strange traveller. And you’re following the sun. Sometimes I wish I could follow the sun, but my father says it just goes down, and my mother cries whenever I leave. Will you come back and tell me where the sun sets? Where the sun lives? Or is the place where the sun sets not the same place where the sun lives? Will you come back and tell me?”

  “Yes,” said Tiuri. “I’ll come back and I’ll talk to you and tell you all about it.”

  “Tell me everything!” cried the Fool happily. “Every single thing! And will you come with me to the cabin?”

  “Sssh!” whispered Tiuri.

  “Are you scared of the forest, strange traveller? The forest will not hurt you, and neither will the foxes or the birds. And neither will I.”

  “Ah, but there might be other things out there,” said Tiuri quietly.

  “Sssh,” said the Fool. “Like what? Creatures that creep and snakes that slither? Who is after you, stranger?”

  “Have you seen someone?” asked Tiuri.

  “No, I’ve seen nothing,” said the Fool. He ruffled his hair and wrinkled his forehead. “But I felt things… I felt things that were creeping and slithering. But they are not here. They are not here yet.”

  “I have to get on,” said Tiuri anxiously.

  “They are not here yet,” repeated the Fool, looking at Tiuri. “You are a strange stranger, young rider on your fine black horse. Are you hungry?”

  Tiuri looked around and did not reply.

  “Are you hungry?” repeated the Fool, taking hold of the reins again.

  “Yes,” replied Tiuri.

  “Then come to the cabin, and my mother will give you some food.”

  “Thank you,” said Tiuri. “But I have to go.”

  “Fine, fine,” whispered the Fool. “You are following the sun. What is your name, stranger?”

  “I cannot tell you that,” answered Tiuri. “Not now.”

  “A secret?” asked the Fool. “You’re a man with a secret, strange traveller?”

  “Why would you think that?” asked Tiuri.

  “I do not think. I do not think – that’s what people say about me – and that is why I am a Fool. But I know… I know many things that no one wishes to know.”

  “So tell me, what do you know?”

  The Fool chuckled and smiled at Tiuri. “You are asking me, stranger,” he said. “No one ever asks me anything. You shall see what I know. Just ride on. You do not need to come with me. Ride on, very slowly, and then I’ll bring you food.”

  Food! Tiuri’s stomach rumbled. “But, dear Fool,” he said. “You must tell no one you have seen me.”

  “Not even my mother?”

  “Not even your mother.”

  “Then I shall not tell anyone, not even my mother.”

  “Promise me,” said Tiuri.

  The Fool frowned. “I always do as I say,” he said. “Will you come back to talk with me and tell me everything?”

  “I always do as I say too,” said Tiuri, smiling at the Fool.

  The Fool turned around and loped down the path on the left. Tiuri watched him until he disappeared from sight. Then he rode slowly onwards, wondering if he should have insisted more strongly that the Fool not mention him to anyone. Would he really bring him some food? Tiuri stopped the horse and looked back, but could not see anyone. He waited for a while before riding on. But then he heard rapid footsteps behind him and the Fool came running up, with his hands full.

  “Ride on, ride on, anxious stranger,” he panted. “You can stop to eat soon.” He caught up with Tiuri and walked ahead of him, humming quietly. “Here,” he said after a while. “The grass is soft and the water is fresh. Can you hear it?”

  Tiuri could indeed hear the babbling of water. A narrow stream ran alongside the path. The Fool knelt down and laid out the food on the grass, carefully, as if it were precious treasure. When Tiuri had climbed down from his horse and sat down beside the Fool, he saw what food he had brought: two large pieces of brown bread, half a ham pancake and a hunk of cheese. Precious treasure indeed!

  “It’s all for you,” said the Fool proudly. “From my mother’s pantry. But she doesn’t know. I sneaked in and took it and she doesn’t know.”

  “Will she mind?” asked Tiuri.

  “You said I’m not allowed to tell her,” said the Fool. “I told no one and I said nothing. This is a secret.”

  “When I return, I shall tell her and I shall pay her,” said Tiuri. “You won’t get into trouble, will you?”

  “Trouble? You don’t have to pay for anything. I have enough and my mother won’t mind, even if she doesn’t know. Now eat, stranger with a secret.”

  Tiuri didn’t protest. He was far too hungry. He thanked the Fool and started eating. For the first time in some days, he enjoyed a good meal. He didn’t eat everything, though, because there was enough for him to save a little for his journey. The Fool happily watched him eat, twirling the curls in his beard and nodding at every bite Tiuri took.

  “Would you like some?” asked Tiuri, who thought the Fool looked peckish.

  “N-no, no,” said the Fool. “This is for you. Oh, but go on. Just a piece of cheese.”

  He happily ate the chunk that Tiuri gave him, but refused to accept anything else.

  “That was delicious,” sighed Tiuri when he’d had enough. “I’m very grateful to you.”

  “You haven’t finished it all!” said the Fool. “There’s a piece of bread left, and some pancake.”

  “May I take it with me? I have a long way to go and I need food for the journey.”

  “Of course,” said the Fool. “You have a long way to go, a long way. This is not enough food. But you can eat berries too. There are lots of them along the way, blue berries, sweet ones, sour ones. And those plants with the ragged leaves have roots, tasty roots.” He stood up and pulled a plant out of the ground. There was a large root attached. He brushed off the dirt and bit a chunk out of it. “Good root,” he said, chewing. He walked over to the horse and offered it the rest, which was eagerly accepted.

  “I’ll remember that,” said Tiuri. “My thanks once again! And now I have a question for you: does this road lead to the west?”

  The Fool wrinkled his forehead. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Does this road lead westwards… to the place where the sun goes down?”

  “Oh, where the sun goes down,” said the Fool. “Yes, for a while. But then it stops, at the bare place with the tree trunks. But you can ride on without a road, stranger, on and on and on some more. But don’t go that way,” he said, pointing south, “because there’s danger out there.”

  “Then I shall go straight on,” said Tiuri. “And you’ll remember not to tell anyone, won’t you? There may be dangerous things coming after me too, things that would like to catch me and kill me.”

  “It is a secret, strange rider and traveller. I shall tell no one that you have eaten my food and that you are following the sun. Sometimes I find birds’ nests, with eggs inside them, but I don’t tell my brothers, because they’ll want to suck the eggs dry. It’s the birds’ secret. I shall tell no one your secret. But you must come back and talk with me!”

  “I promise,” said Tiuri, and he meant it.

  “How long will you be gone, traveller?”

  Tiuri sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “A long time, I fear. But I will return. At least, that is my hope and my wish.” He slowly rose to his feet.

  “You will return,” said the Fool, looking at Tiuri with his bright eyes. “Ride on now, stranger. Ride straight on, fine black horse. But do not drink from the dark pool that you will soon pass, because that belongs to the forest spirits.”

  Tiuri put the rest of the food in his saddlebag, s
hook the Fool by the hand, climbed onto the horse and rode away. He looked back a couple of times and waved. The forest dweller stood in the middle of the path, with his arms hanging by his sides, watching Tiuri go. But when Tiuri looked around for the third time, he had disappeared.

  He was a good man, thought Tiuri, and he may be different, but I don’t think he’s really all that foolish. Having spoken to him, Tiuri felt stronger somehow and full of fresh courage.

  The road did indeed come to a dead end at a clearing, where piles of tree trunks were stacked up. Tiuri carried on, straight through the forest. He came to a dark pool, which was surrounded by very tall, old trees. That must be the pool that the Fool had warned him about. Tiuri was thirsty again, but he followed the Fool’s advice. He didn’t like the look of the still, dark water, with its surface untouched by the slightest ripple. The place could easily be enchanted… It certainly felt strange and hostile to humans. Tiuri rode on quickly and was glad when he had left the pool far behind.

  Gradually, the landscape became wilder and hillier, with twisted trees and dense undergrowth. Tiuri saw ferns that were the height of a man and curtains of creepers hanging from branches.

  It was hard to make any progress through this landscape and sometimes he wondered whether he was riding in a straight line and still heading in the right direction.

  When it started to get dark, Tiuri found a place to sleep in a bushy hollow, where he decided to spend the night and travel on in the morning.

  3 THE SOUND OF A HORN