“Sir Fitil!” muttered Lord Rafox, with an angry scowl. “Well, I will most certainly set off soon! The soldiers of Westenaut will be unable to get here until the end of the week. I shall leave orders for them with you, Father Hyronimus, if you do not mind. And one more thing – the Wild Wood is unknown territory for me. I should like to know as much as possible about it before I leave.”
“I have already thought about that, Lord Rafox,” said the abbot. “Piak, who has just come from there, and Brother Martin can certainly tell you something about it. And Adelbart may know more about the Forgotten City than he has told me so far. I also have a map here – it is very old and has been in the possession of our monastery for years. The situation has changed somewhat since then. The Second Great Road, which has fallen into disuse, is still marked on this map. But perhaps that is just as well, because it would appear that the wood is no longer as untrodden as we believed and that it has paths once again, just as it did long ago.”
He spread out the map on his desk. Piak and Lord Rafox leant over to study it.
“I do not know if the distances are accurate,” the abbot continued, “but at least they will give you an impression. Look, here is the Green River, where we are now. There is Terraverdis, now in ruins, known as the Forgotten City. That is the Black River, where the Second Great Road once ran. There is a castle, probably the Owl House, where Tiuri was ambushed. And there you see the Tarnburg. I thought it had disappeared long ago, but what Piak told me has made me doubt. Maybe it is now inhabited.”
The castle Lady Isadoro sang about? thought Piak. But why did she sing that song if we were not supposed to know anything about it? He did not ponder the answer to this question, but looked at Lord Rafox, who was indicating on the map which route he wanted to take.
“I think we must cross the Green River and follow it to the south,” he said. “To here, where it turns to the west. If we proceed to the south, we should come out by the Black River, about halfway between the Owl House and the Tarnburg. Our route from there depends on what we find. Perhaps we will have to go to the west, perhaps towards the Unholy Hills, or to Islan.”
He raised his head and asked, “These Men in Green seem to live near here, between the Green Hills and the Green River. Do you know anything about them, reverend father?”
The abbot shook his head. “Little more than a few strange stories that are oddly contradictory,” he replied. “Old tales mention them, but often not in human form…”
“The enemies Piak has spoken about are most certainly human,” said the Lord of Mistrinaut drily.
“Yes,” said the abbot, “but I would advise you not to be too disbelieving about creatures – which may indeed be people – and situations that you have never come across before. I rarely go beyond the walls of the monastery, but I know the world still hides many secrets.”
“As do I,” said Lord Rafox, looking thoughtfully at the map. “I have been to many strange parts, for I have travelled far and wide. And as far as this Wild Wood is concerned, there is something else about it that makes it dangerous. These are regions that have been abandoned by people and then shunned. Wicked weeds can take root in such places.”
“That’s why Sir Ristridin wanted to go there,” whispered Piak.
The Lord of Mistrinaut looked at him, a sudden smile making his stern face much friendlier. “And your friend, Tiuri,” he said. “With God’s help, we shall find him, my boy.”
An hour later, Piak was sitting with Adelbart on the edge of the small well in the monastery garden. The gate was open and soldiers were walking in and out. Lord Rafox was still inside, in conversation with the abbot.
“Why don’t you come with us?” Piak asked Adelbart.
Adelbart looked thoughtful. “I could come,” he said. “If only I knew I was doing the right thing.”
“Why not?” said Piak. “You know your way around the forest and you can use weapons, too.”
“Yes, but that’s not always a good thing,” replied Adelbart. “I’m scared I might use them against the wrong person. It’s just the kind of thing I’d do.”
“Come on, you know who you’ll be up against now,” said Piak.
“You may think you know – but I don’t! There are all kinds of strange folk running around the forest, that’s for sure. The creatures that live there see every intruder – good or bad – as an enemy.”
Piak took a good look at him. “Adelbart,” he said, “do you know more than you’ve told me?”
Adelbart answered his gaze with big, surprised eyes. “I already told you,” he said, “that I had no inclination to go out investigating and interfering in other men’s business. But,” he continued after a pause, “I think that time’s over now. I’ve made my decision. I’ll come with you, if the Lord of Mistrinaut does not object.”
“That’s excellent news,” said Piak and he sneezed.
“I’d go inside if I were you,” Adelbart advised him. “The air’s chilly.”
“Ask Lord Rafox right away if you can come,” said Piak. “I’m sure he can use every man.”
“Even a man who was a robber?” said Adelbart with a doubtful look on his face.
“I haven’t told him about that,” said Piak. “And Father Hyronimus will be only too pleased to hear that you’re going to do something good.”
“Oh, the abbot has already had a few stern words with me,” murmured Adelbart. “Fine, I’ll ask him. Perhaps this is better than going on a pilgrimage.” Then, a little more loudly, he added, “Do you know that lad over there?”
“Who do you mean?” asked Piak.
Adelbart pointed at a spot in the cloister. “One of the squires from Mistrinaut,” he said. “He’s been watching you for a while.”
Piak saw a slim figure, dressed in blue – the colour of Mistrinaut. He was half hidden behind a column and he was beckoning to Piak.
“He’s calling you over,” said Adelbart. “Go on. I’ll pay the soldiers a visit and see if I can talk to Lord Rafox.”
It was rather dark in the cloister and the squire had retreated to a far corner.
“What is it?” asked Piak, approaching him.
“Where is Lord Rafox?” the boy asked quietly.
“Inside, with the abbot,” replied Piak, a little puzzled.
He saw a boy of about his own age – he didn’t think he’d ever met him before, but he seemed familiar somehow.
“You don’t know me,” said the boy, as if he’d read Piak’s mind. “But I know who you are – Piak, Sir Tiuri’s squire.”
“And who are you?” asked Piak.
“My name is Fox,” came the brief reply.
“What do you want from me?” asked Piak.
“Can you tell me what Lord Rafox is planning? When are we setting off?”
“I’m sure you’ll be told if you’re coming with us,” said Piak. “You are one of the men of Mistrinaut, aren’t you?”
“Yes, that’s right. But… All right, then,” said the boy. “I have to trust someone. I call myself Fox, but my name is actually Sigirdiwarth Rafox.”
“Is the Lord of Mistrinaut your father?” said Piak.
“Quiet!” whispered the boy. “But yes, that’s right.”
“Now I know who you reminded me of!” said Piak. “Lady Lavinia, your sister. You are so very much like her.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” said Sigirdiwarth Rafox and he continued, “Listen, my father doesn’t know I’m here – and he mustn’t find out either.”
“Why not?” asked Piak.
“I am a squire,” said Fox, “and I want nothing more than to go along and help free Sir Tiuri. But my father does not approve. He says it’s too dangerous. I’m not allowed to go, just because I’m… just because I’m too young. How old are you?”
“Nearly fifteen,” said Piak.
“Then I’m older than you. Don’t you think it’s ridiculous? I don’t like the thought of staying safely behind at Mistrinaut and only
hearing all the stories later. I want to go. And I will go. So I’m going to join the company. One of my father’s men is in on the secret – and once we’re in the wood, they can hardly send me back… Why aren’t you saying anything?” he asked, when Piak remained silent.
“Oh, I completely understand,” said Piak. “I wouldn’t want to stay at home either if I were you. But your father doesn’t seem like the sort of person I’d want to disobey.”
“You’re right,” said Fox, “but having to stay at Mistrinaut is even worse. I might not look strong, but I’m brave – really! You won’t give me away, will you, Piak?”
“Of course not,” said Piak. “Do you know Tiuri?”
“Lavinia has told me a lot about him,” replied Fox.
“Lady Lavinia, how is she?” asked Piak.
“She’s well,” said Fox. “She sometimes regrets she is a woman, though, as it means she cannot go out and about like us – exploring forests, fighting enemies…”
“Lavinia’s lovely,” said Piak. He was thinking about Tiuri and Isadoro. He could only see the Daughter of Islan as a traitor. But did Tiuri know that?
“What are you thinking about?” asked Fox.
He was so like Lavinia! And Piak knew better than to say anything about Isadoro. “Oh, just about Tiuri,” he replied.
“Tell me about… about your adventures,” said Fox. “Or no, wait. I think I can hear the second group of soldiers arriving. My father will be out here any minute now. We’ll see each other later, in the forest.”
“We’re leaving tonight,” whispered Piak, “or tomorrow morning. If you need my help, just call me.”
“Thank you, Piak,” said Fox.
6 FOX
They left at daybreak the next morning. Piak travelled on one of Mistrinaut’s horses, riding with Lord Rafox and Brother Martin at the front of the group. The weather was mild, but changeable; rain and sun kept trying to chase each other away. Piak felt just the same: full of worries one moment and brimming with confidence the next.
Having crossed the river, they followed a path upstream along the bank. Piak was riding beside Adelbart now, who told him that this road was used by woodcutters and finished in a dead end not too far away. Brother Martin looked around and said he had once seen a Man in Green somewhere around here.
“I was looking for herbs on the opposite bank,” he said, “and suddenly he was standing there in front of me. Even his face seemed green in the shade of the trees. He looked furious and he pointed with his spear to the east, as if to say I should go back that way. The next moment, he was gone.”
“Did you really see him?” asked Adelbart. “Or could you just have imagined it?”
“Sometimes I wonder,” replied Brother Martin. “But no, it was real.”
“You should have made the sign of the cross, Brother,” said Adelbart. “Then you would have known for certain if the man was real – and whether he was good or bad.”
“Have you never met one?” asked Piak.
“Oh, let’s not talk about my strange visions,” said Adelbart. “I have a vivid imagination and many is the time I’ve seen things that weren’t there.”
They looked at the opposite bank, the territory of the mysterious Men in Green. It was densely overgrown and the leaves already had more foliage than elsewhere in the wood. A sudden gust of wind made the trees rustle and a flurry of rain swept over them.
“Here, wrap yourself in this cloak,” said Brother Martin to Piak. “Catching cold once is enough.”
The path became narrower, and the Lord of Mistrinaut remarked, “I think we shall soon have to go on foot. But I wanted to take the horses because our enemies have them, too. Let’s gallop for as long as we can.”
“Quiet!” said Piak suddenly.
“What is it?” asked the Lord of Mistrinaut.
“I think I heard something…” Piak reined in his horse and the others did the same.
“I can just hear the raindrops,” said Brother Martin, “and thunder rumbling in the distance.”
“I thought it was something else,” whispered Piak. “But it’s gone now.” He didn’t say what exactly he’d thought, because he wasn’t sure he’d really heard the sound of a drum.
As they rode onwards, they let their horses set the pace. Piak looked back from time to time. The line of men was long; he couldn’t even see its end because of the twists and turns in the path. He thought about Fox. Was he riding with them? He was probably at the back of the line. After a while, he stopped his horse and allowed the others to go past. It was some time before he saw Lord Rafox’s son; he was indeed almost the last.
Just then, the Lord of Mistrinaut gave the signal for a short rest. The men dismounted, and food appeared. Piak lost sight of Fox, but finally found him by the river. He was sitting close to the water, in a spot where they couldn’t see him from the path.
He jumped when Piak came to stand beside him. Then he quietly said, “Oh, it’s you. Sit with me.”
Piak did so.
“It’s so beautiful here!” said Fox, with a hint of surprise.
The sun had broken through the clouds again, even though drops of water were still dripping from the branches. The rapidly flowing river was clear, with silvery fish darting about. Flowers grew here and there alongside the path. Fox picked one and idly played with it. He had pale, narrow hands, and Piak frowned for a moment as he looked at them. What did they remind him of?
Fox cast a sideways glance at him and threw the flower into the water. “Well, well, so here we are, then!” he said cheerfully, but it sounded rather forced to Piak. There was something peculiar about this boy. “So, talk to me!” Fox continued. “You were going to tell me about your adventures. I’ve only heard the most important parts, and always from other people.”
“What would you like to know?” asked Piak.
“Everything,” said Fox.
“I don’t know if everything’s worth telling,” said Piak with a laugh. But he started anyway. He spoke first about meeting the Fool and then described their journey to the Owl House.
“So the Fool was right,” whispered Fox. “Did you believe him from the start, too, just like Tiuri?”
Piak had to think about that for a moment. “I believed Tiuri,” he replied, “and so I believed the Fool.”
“If only more people had listened to Tiuri,” said Fox. “Then perhaps he would not have been taken prisoner. Poor Marius! Oh, but I do not like that Lord of Islan!”
Piak didn’t want to respond to that last remark, as then he would have to mention Isadoro. So he quickly explained how the men of Islan had looked for him and then told him about what had happened near the Owl House. As he told his story, though, he got more and more into it, and it felt as if he were reliving many of the events.
But then he faltered. The face of his engrossed listener, gazing at him with wide-open eyes, threw him into confusion.
It was the face of Lady Lavinia!
“Why are you looking at me so strangely?” said Fox, blushing. Then he turned away and looked at the river. “So what did you do after you had read Sir Ristridin’s message?” he asked.
“Tiuri said we should return immediately,” Piak said slowly, “and so we did…” He was still looking closely at his companion. That delicate profile… it was definitely the face of a girl, even in spite of the helmet that was hiding her hair.
Lavinia!
Somewhere behind them Adelbart called out, “Piak, where are you? We’re moving off!”
Fox leapt up and, with his hands on his hips, he looked down at Piak. “Onwards!” he said, trying to make his voice sound manly. And more quietly he added, “Don’t let on to anyone that I’m Sigirdiwarth yet. We’re still too close to the monastery and to my home.”
Is he – or she – Lavinia? Yes or no? thought Piak, also getting to his feet.
Fox turned around and darted ahead of him, small and slender. No, he was not Sigirdiwarth, but his sister, the young lady of Mistrinaut.
She clearly wanted to keep playing her role. So Piak thought he had better say nothing, even though he was sure she had noticed his confusion.
As he rode onwards, however, he did not feel entirely comfortable. If Fox was Lavinia, he could understand that her father wanted her to stay at home. A young lady dressing as a squire so she could go out to face dangers and enemies… Piak had never heard anything like it! And yet he admired her. She was so courageous; there was no one else like her. Is she doing it just for Tiuri? he wondered. She kept asking about him… She was so different from Isadoro, who had used her wiles in an attempt to keep Tiuri away from the Wild Wood, but who had still not wanted to warn him openly. Isadoro, who did not even dare to stroke Ardanwen, but who had enchanted Tiuri with her beauty…
“You look so serious, Piak,” said Brother Martin suddenly appearing beside him. “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself, my boy.”
“I’m not worrying about tomorrow. I’m worrying about today!” said Piak. A little later he said, “Brother Martin, do you know the Lord of Mistrinaut well?”
“Quite well, yes,” came the reply. “I have often visited his castle.”
“And do you know his children, too? He has a son and a daughter.”
“Yes,” said the monk, “Sigirdiwarth and Lavinia. Sigirdiwarth is the younger of the two, about your age.”
Piak began to have his doubts again. “Why did he not come with his father?” he asked.
“Sigirdiwarth is not at home at the moment. He is serving as a squire with a knight in the far north,” said Brother Martin. “So you’ve never met him?”
“No,” said Piak, “but I’ve met his sister. Does he look much like her?”
“Not in the slightest,” replied the monk. “He’s the image of his father, robust and red-headed. Lavinia resembles her mother. But why are you asking these questions?”
“Oh, no reason,” said Piak vaguely.