The Letter for the King

  Dedicated to

  the three stars in the west

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE: THE KNIGHTS OF KING DAGONAUT

  PART ONE: A MYSTERIOUS MISSION

  1 The Vigil in the Chapel

  2 A Stranger’s Request

  3 The Ride to the Inn

  4 The Yikarvara Inn

  5 The Black Knight with the White Shield

  6 Red Riders

  7 A Close Shave

  PART TWO: THE JOURNEY THROUGH THE FOREST

  1 Riding a Black Horse

  2 The Fool

  3 The Sound of a Horn

  4 An Unwelcome Encounter

  5 Grey Knights

  6 Sanctuary

  PART THREE: CASTLE MISTRINAUT

  1 A Pilgrim

  2 Hands Tied

  3 The Lord and Lavinia

  4 Swords Drawn

  5 A Web of Suspicion

  6 Secrets and Revelations

  PART FOUR: ALONG THE BLUE RIVER

  1 Back on the Road

  2 The Inn of the Setting Sun

  3 Edwinem

  4 A Shock

  5 Saying Farewell

  PART FIVE: IN THE MOUNTAINS

  1 A Travelling Companion

  2 The Hermit

  3 Another Farewell

  4 Piak

  5 Mist and Snow

  6 A Welcome Sight

  7 Taki and Ilia

  PART SIX: TO THE EAST OF THE RAINBOW RIVER

  1 The Road to Dangria

  2 The Mayor

  3 The Letter

  4 The Scribe

  5 At the White Swan

  6 Raised Tempers

  7 The Bridge Across the Rainbow River

  8 Sink or Swim

  9 Alarming News

  PART SEVEN: TO THE WEST OF THE RAINBOW RIVER

  1 The Forest of Ingewel

  2 An Eventful Night

  3 A Shepherd and a Messenger

  4 The Beggar at the Gate

  5 King Unauwen

  6 Sir Ivan and Tirillo

  7 A Final Confrontation

  8 Swords and Rings

  9 Knights and Kings

  PART EIGHT: BACK TO THE CITY OF DAGONAUT

  1 Brothers and Friends

  2 A Broken Promise

  3 Goodbye

  4 A Warm Welcome

  5 In the Forest

  6 Acceptance

  7 A Knight with a White Shield

  8 Sunrise

  About the Author

  Also Available from Pushkin Press

  Copyright

  Prologue

  THE KNIGHTS OF KING DAGONAUT

  This is a tale of long ago, when knights still roamed the land. It takes place in two kingdoms: the land of King Dagonaut, to the east of the Great Mountains, and the land of King Unauwen, to the west of the Great Mountains. The capital cities of these two realms also bear the name of their kings: the City of Dagonaut and the City of Unauwen. A third land also plays an important part in this tale, but now is not the time for stories of that place.

  This account begins in the Kingdom of Dagonaut. But first you will need to know more about King Dagonaut and his knights and, with this in mind, I have transcribed a number of pages on the subject from an old, old book:

  Our King Dagonaut is a mighty king; his reign is praised as wise and just, and his realm is large and beautiful, with hills and meadows, fertile fields, wide rivers and vast forests. There are mountains in the north and even higher mountains in the west. Beyond those mountains lies the land of King Unauwen, a realm of which our minstrels sing such beautiful songs. To the east and the south, the land is flatter, and enemies from those parts sometimes attempt to invade our country, jealous of the prosperity we enjoy. But no one has ever succeeded in conquering the realm, as the king’s knights guard it well and defend it with courage. Within our borders, life is good, and all is safe and peaceful.

  King Dagonaut is served by many knights, brave and bold men who help him to govern the kingdom and to maintain order. Many of these knights are famed throughout the land. Who among us has not heard of Sir Fantumar, and Tiuri the Valiant, and Ristridin of the South, to name but a few? The king has granted many of his knights land in fief, which they govern in his name. They are duty bound to come when he calls, and to aid him with their might and with their men.

  Some knights, however, own no land; most of these men are still young but will succeed their fathers when they are older. And there are also knights-errant, men who have no desire for property and who travel around the land and offer their services wherever they go, patrolling the borders and even journeying beyond our kingdom to bring back news of distant lands.

  The realm of King Dagonaut has many knights, and yet joining their ranks is no easy task. Any man who wishes to be knighted must prove himself worthy. He must undergo an arduous apprenticeship, first serving as a squire to an experienced knight and then joining the king’s guards for another year. Not only must a knight be able to use weapons and prove himself knowledgeable in many fields, but above all he must prove that he is chivalrous and honest, brave and true. He must be knightly in every respect.

  Once every four years, at midsummer, King Dagonaut summons all of the knights to his city, where they remain for seven days. They inform him about the state of affairs in the various parts of the realm and give an account of their own activities and accomplishments.

  And in that week, on midsummer’s day, the young men who have been found worthy are ceremoniously knighted by the king. It is a great day! After the ceremony, there is a service in the cathedral, followed by a feast at the palace. Then comes a magnificent procession through the city, in which all of the knights ride, in full armour, with their shields and banners, and the newest young knights leading the way. Citizens of Dagonaut come from far and wide to see the spectacle. The celebration takes place not just in the palace, but all over the city. A fair is held in the marketplace, with musicians playing and people singing and dancing in every street, in daylight at first and later by the glow of hundreds of torches. The next day, the king calls his men together and the new knights are permitted to join their gathering for the first time. And the day after that, they take part in a great tournament, which many people view as the most thrilling part of the week. Nowhere else in the realm can such splendour and chivalry, such courage and agility, all be seen in one place.

  But before those glorious days, the young knights have to pass one final test. They must fast for twenty-four hours before the knighting ceremony. They are not allowed to eat a morsel or drink a drop. And they have to spend the night in contemplation at a small chapel beyond the city walls. The young men lay their swords before the altar and, dressed in their white robes, they kneel down to reflect upon the great task that lies ahead. They undertake to serve their king loyally as knights of Dagonaut, and to protect his kingdom, their own homeland. They swear to themselves that they will always be honest and chivalrous, and fight for what is good. The knights remain awake and reflect all night, praying for strength for their task. They are not permitted to sleep or to speak, or to pay any heed to those outside the chapel, until a delegation of the king’s knights comes at seven o’clock in the morning to take them before the king.

  This story begins on such a night, in the small chapel on the hill outside the City of Dagonaut, where five young men were spending the night in reflection on the eve of their knighting ceremony. Their names were Wilmo, Foldo, Jussipo, Arman and Tiuri. Tiuri was the youngest of them; he was just sixteen years old.

  PART ONE

  A MYSTERIOUS MISSION

  1 THE VIGIL IN THE CHAPEL

  Tiuri knelt on the stone
floor of the chapel, staring at the pale flame of the candle in front of him.

  What time was it? He was supposed to be reflecting seriously upon the duties he would have to perform once he was a knight, but his mind kept wandering. And sometimes he found that he wasn’t thinking about anything at all. He wondered if his friends felt the same.

  He glanced across at Foldo and Arman, at Wilmo and Jussipo. Foldo and Wilmo were gazing at their candles, while Arman had buried his face in his hands. Jussipo was kneeling with a straight back and staring up at the ceiling, but then he changed position and looked Tiuri right in the eyes. Tiuri turned his head away and fixed his gaze on the candle again.

  What was Jussipo thinking about?

  Wilmo moved, scraping his shoe on the floor. The others all looked in his direction. Wilmo hung his head and looked a little embarrassed.

  It’s so quiet, thought Tiuri. I’ve never known such quietness in my entire life. All I can hear is our breathing, and maybe, if I listen carefully, the beating of my own heart…

  The five young men were not permitted to say anything to one another, not even a word, all night long. They were also forbidden to have any contact at all with the outside world. They had locked the chapel door behind them and would not open it again until the next morning, at seven o’clock, when King Dagonaut’s knights would come to fetch them.

  Tomorrow morning! Tiuri could already picture the celebratory procession: the knights on their magnificently caparisoned horses, with their colourful shields and fluttering banners. He imagined himself among them, riding a fine steed, clad in shining armour, with a helmet and a waving plume. But then he shook his head to rid himself of that vision. He knew he should not be thinking about the external trappings of knighthood, but instead vowing to be chivalrous and honest, brave and true.

  The candlelight made his eyes hurt. He looked at the altar, where the five swords lay waiting. The shields hung above the altar, gleaming in the flickering light of the candles.

  Tomorrow there will be two knights bearing the same coat of arms, thought Tiuri. Father and myself. His father’s name was also Tiuri and he was known as Tiuri the Valiant. Was he lying awake now, thinking about his son? Tiuri hoped he would become as worthy a knight as his father.

  Then another thought occurred to him. What if someone were to knock at the door? He and his companions would not be permitted to open it. Tiuri remembered something that Sir Fantumar, whose squire he had been, had once told him. During his own vigil in the chapel, there had been a loud knocking at the door. Fantumar had been there with three other young men, and none of them had opened up. And it was just as well, because they later discovered that it had been one of the king’s servants, who had wanted to put them to the test.

  Tiuri looked again at his friends. They were still kneeling in the same position. He knew it must be after midnight. His candle had almost burnt down; it was the shortest of the five. Perhaps it was because he was sitting by a window. The chapel was a draughty place and he could feel a chilly gust of air. When my candle goes out, he thought, I won’t light another one. The others wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark, which was an appealing thought, and he wasn’t worried that he might fall asleep.

  Had Wilmo dozed off? No, he just shifted position, so he must be awake.

  I’m not spending my vigil as I should, thought Tiuri. He clasped his hands together and rested his eyes on his sword, which he would be allowed to use only for a just cause. He repeated to himself the words that he would have to speak to King Dagonaut the following day: “I swear as a knight to serve you loyally, as I will all of your subjects and those who call upon my aid. I promise to…”

  Then he heard a knock at the door. It was quiet, but there could be no doubt. The five young men held their breath, but stayed exactly where they were.

  Then there was another knock.

  They looked at one another, but no one said a word or moved a muscle.

  The handle turned and rattled, but of course the door was locked. Then they heard the sound of footsteps slowly moving away.

  All five of them sighed at the same time.

  Good, thought Tiuri. That’s it over with. It was strange, but he felt as though, all throughout his vigil, he had been waiting for such an interruption. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure the others must be able to hear it. Come on, Tiuri, calm down, he said to himself. It was just a stranger who didn’t know about our vigil, or someone who wanted to disturb us, or to put us to the test.

  But still, Tiuri waited anxiously for another sound. His candle flared brightly and then went out, with a quiet hiss, and he was surrounded by darkness.

  He had no idea how much more time had passed when he heard a quiet noise above his head. It sounded like someone scratching at the window!

  And then he heard a voice, as soft as a breath. “In the name of God, open the door!”

  2 A STRANGER’S REQUEST

  Tiuri straightened his back and looked at the window. He could see nothing, not even a shadow, so he might almost have imagined it. If only that were true! He couldn’t do as the voice had asked, no matter how urgent it had sounded. Tiuri hid his face in his hands and tried to banish every thought from his mind.

  But again he heard the voice, very clearly, even though it was no more than a whisper. “In the name of God, open the door!”

  It sounded even more urgent than before.

  Tiuri looked at his friends. They didn’t appear to have heard anything. But he had definitely heard the voice! “In the name of God, open the door!”

  What should he do? He wasn’t allowed to open the door… but what if it was someone who was in need of help, a fugitive in search of sanctuary?

  He listened. All was silent again. But the voice was still echoing in his ears; he would never be able to forget it. Oh, why did this have to happen now of all times? Why did he have to be the one who heard the plea? He was not allowed to respond, but he knew that he would be unable to rest until he had done so.

  Then Tiuri made a decision. Quietly, he stood up, stiff from kneeling on the cold floor for so long. Feeling his way along the wall, he tiptoed towards the door. He glanced at his friends and thought at first that they had not noticed anything, but then he saw Arman looking in his direction. He knew his friend would never betray him.

  It seemed to take forever to reach the door of the chapel. Tiuri looked back one more time, at his friends, at the altar and the shields above it, at the light of the four candles, and at the dark shadows throughout the chapel, between the columns and around the vaulted ceiling. Then he headed to the door and put his hand on the key.

  If I open this door, he thought, I’ll have broken the rules. And then the king will not knight me tomorrow.

  Tiuri turned the key, opened the door a crack and peered out into the night.

  A man stood outside the door, dressed in a monk’s habit, with the hood pulled down over his eyes. Tiuri could not see his face, as it was too dark. He opened the door a little wider and waited in silence for the man to speak.

  “Thank you!” whispered the stranger.

  Tiuri did not reply.

  The stranger waited for a moment and then said, still in a whisper, “I need your help. It’s a matter of life and death! Will you help me? Please.” When Tiuri did not reply, he said, “My God, why won’t you say something?”

  “How can you expect me to help you?” whispered Tiuri. “Why have you come here? Don’t you know that I am to be knighted tomorrow and that I may speak to no one?”

  “I know that,” answered the stranger. “That is why I came to this place.”

  “Well, you should have gone somewhere else,” Tiuri said. “Now I’ve broken the rules and so I can’t be knighted tomorrow.”

  “You will be knighted and you will have earned your knighthood,” said the stranger. “A knight must help when his assistance is requested, must he not? Come outside, and I shall explain what I need you to do. Hurry, hurry, for there�
�s little time!”

  What do I have to lose now? thought Tiuri. I’ve already spoken and I’ve opened the door, so why not leave the chapel too?

  The stranger took him by the hand and led him around the outside of the chapel. His hand felt bony and wrinkled. It was the hand of an old man. His voice sounded old as well, thought Tiuri. Who could he be?

  The stranger stopped beside a small, dark alcove. “Let’s hide here,” he whispered, “and we must speak quietly, so that no one can hear us.” Then he released Tiuri’s hand and asked, “What is your name?”

  “Tiuri,” he answered.

  “Ah, Tiuri. I know I shall be able to count on you.”

  “What do you want of me?” asked Tiuri.

  The stranger leant close and whispered in his ear, “I have a letter here, with a message of vital importance. One might even say that the fate of an entire kingdom depends on it. It is a letter for King Unauwen.”

  King Unauwen! Tiuri had heard that name many times before. He reigned over the land to the west of the mountains, and was renowned as a noble and just ruler.

  “This letter must be taken across the Great Mountains to the king in the City of Unauwen,” said the stranger. “As quickly as possible.”

  “You don’t expect me…” Tiuri began.

  “No,” said the stranger, interrupting him. “The man who shall deliver the letter is the Black Knight with the White Shield. At this moment, he is in the forest, at the Yikarvara Inn. What I need you to do is to take this letter to him. I cannot do so myself, as I am old and there are enemies all around, who are pursuing me and who know my face.”

  “Why do you not ask someone else?” said Tiuri. “The city is full of knights right now, and there must be plenty of men you can trust.”

  “I cannot ask any of those knights,” responded the stranger. “They would attract too much attention. Did I not tell you that there are enemies everywhere? Spies are lying in wait throughout the city, just looking for an opportunity to steal this letter. A famous knight is no good to me. I need someone who is unknown and who will go unnoticed. But at the same time I must be able to trust him with this letter. In other words, I am looking for someone who is a knight and yet not a knight! You are the one I need. You have been found worthy of being knighted tomorrow, but you are still young and have no reputation for your valiant deeds. And yet I know I can trust you.”