The Letter for the King Read online

  The sound of the horn seemed to startle the robbers for a moment. Then they repeated their command: “Your money or your life!”

  “You shall have neither,” said the knight, raising his sword, as the sound of more voices and hoofs came from along the path.

  The robbers looked at one another and it seemed that they were about to make a run for it. The knight urged on his horse and rode past them a little way, but then he turned and stopped. “Do not flee, you cowards!” he cried. “Come on! Attack, as you were planning to!”

  “Attack him, you cowards!” cried the leader of the robbers, rushing towards the knight with his sword in his hand.

  But the four other men yelled out in fear as seven riders came charging down the path, all of them on grey horses and dressed in grey. There were three knights, with helmets and swords, and four younger men, probably their squires.

  Tiuri was still hidden inside his cave. His help was no longer needed, so he contented himself with watching the scene unfold. In an instant, four of the robbers, including their leader, were disarmed and tied up. The fifth fled and was pursued by two of the knights. The other knights gathered at the foot of Tiuri’s hill and the knight with the silver horn spoke to the captives.

  Those are the men I heard in the forest the day before yesterday, thought Tiuri. I saw one of their squires. But who are they?

  None of the knights had raised their visors and they had no crests on their shields. The one with the horn, who seemed to be their leader, spoke sternly, “You shall pay for your misdeeds! Highway robbery is forbidden in the Kingdom of Dagonaut, as it is in every realm where order reigns.”

  “Have mercy!” begged one of the robbers.

  “And you are cowards too! You dare to attack lonely travellers, but you flee from larger companies. You shall hang from a tree before the sun goes down.”

  “Sir knight,” said the leader, “I am a thief. I cannot deny that. But I have never killed any man. So why should you wish to kill me?”

  Tiuri felt a little sympathy for him. After all, the man had let him keep his ring.

  Now the two knights returned. One of them held the robber who had tried to escape, and the other was leading two horses: his own, and one that Tiuri would have recognized among hundreds of other horses. It was the black horse that had belonged to the Knight with the White Shield.

  When the Grey Knight with the horn saw them approaching, he dismounted and walked to meet them. They stood for a while, talking quietly and studying the black horse. Then they went to join the others.

  The knight with the horn turned to the robbers and barked, “Whose is this horse?”

  “His,” answered one of the robbers, nodding in the leader’s direction.

  “I see,” said the knight. “And how did you come to have this horse? From whom did you steal it?”

  “That horse belongs to me,” said the leader gruffly.

  “That is a lie! You stole it. I know this horse, you scoundrel!”

  “There are plenty of black horses in the world,” said the leader.

  “You know nothing about horses,” said the Grey Knight. “No horse is like another. I would recognize this horse anywhere and I know its name too. Ardanwen is his name, or Night Wind, and it is shameful that a man like you would dare to ride upon his back!”

  Tiuri listened to all of this with increasing amazement. These knights knew the horse, so they must also know the Black Knight with the White Shield! He thought about stepping out of the cave and speaking to them, but something was stopping him, even though he could not have explained what it was. He stayed silent and kept listening.

  The leader bowed his head and said nothing.

  “From whom did you steal this horse?” the Grey Knight repeated.

  “From a young man who passed through here last night,” one of the robbers replied.

  “And that’s the truth,” muttered the leader.

  The knight stood right in front of the man, staring at him. “A young man who passed through last night? What did he look like? No older than seventeen? With dark hair and blue-grey eyes and dressed in a white robe?”

  “His clothes didn’t look very white,” replied the leader, “but the rest sounds right enough. I reckon his eyes could have been blue-grey…”

  “And his hair was dark,” interjected one of the other men. “And on his finger he was wearing a…”

  “A ring,” said the Grey Knight, “that gleamed like a star!”

  “That’s right, sir knight,” said the leader. “It was a very fine ring and it was shining away on his left hand.”

  This news clearly meant something to the Grey Knights.

  “Where is he?” one of them cried.

  “Where is the ring?” cried another.

  “I did him no harm, knights!” said the leader. “And I let him keep the ring.”

  “Another lie,” barked the knight with the horn. “Why would you steal the horse and neglect to take such a valuable jewel? Give it to me!”

  “I don’t have it!” cried the leader. “I swear it to you. He seemed very attached to it, so I let him keep the thing and go on his way in peace.”

  “It’s true,” said the other robbers, backing him up.

  The Grey Knights conferred. Tiuri could not hear what they were saying.

  “It would have been better if you had not let him go,” the knight with the horn finally announced.

  “Better?” said the leader.

  “You are a thief and a scoundrel, but I think that young man is an even worse villain than you. If you had killed him, it would have been his just deserts.”

  The leader seemed surprised to hear this. But Tiuri was even more surprised. In fact, he was stunned!

  “Where did he go?” barked one of the other knights. “Quick, tell us which way he went!”

  “Into the forest, in that direction,” said the leader, with a nod. “But I didn’t watch to see where he was heading.”

  “He can’t have gone very far,” said another of the robbers. “He was on foot.”

  “Why are you looking for him?” asked the leader.

  “That is none of your business,” said the knight with the silver horn. “But I am so grateful to you for this news that I am inclined to allow you your life and your freedom. On one condition: you must look out for this young man and bring him to us if you find him. Dead or alive, but preferably alive. And be aware that he is dangerous!”

  “I’m not at all surprised,” said one of the robbers. It was the one who had wanted to chop off Tiuri’s finger.

  “Untie them,” the knight ordered the squires. “I will grant them mercy. But,” he continued, “I will return to this place and hunt down and hang any of you who remain robbers! Order and security must be maintained in this kingdom.”

  “One day we will rid this forest of every criminal,” said the knight who stood beside him. “But now we have a more important task to perform. Find that boy for us, robbers!”

  Then all of the men moved on, one group following the other: first the Grey Knights and their retinue, taking the black horse with them, and then the robbers, quietly talking among themselves. Both groups headed towards the west.

  *

  Tiuri sat in his cave, still stunned. He was the one the Grey Knights were seeking. And they wanted him dead or alive! Why? They weren’t with the Red Riders, were they? Whatever the case, they were enemies – and formidable ones. He thanked his lucky stars that he had not left his hiding place.

  But then he was overcome by a feeling of despair. He needed to travel on to the west, but the Grey Knights were after him and now the robbers were keeping an eye out for him too. The Red Riders were most probably still following him or lying in wait. And maybe other things were after him too, creatures that creep, as the Fool had said. How was he ever going to carry out his mission, alone, on foot and unarmed?

  Tiuri took out the letter and turned it over and over in his hands. Such a small thing, but such an
important message… What could be in the letter that mattered enough to risk his life for? Should he open it and read it? “Do so only as a final resort,” the Knight with the White Shield had said. A final resort? Had that time come? The time to read the letter, commit its message to memory and then destroy it? Why should he risk his life when he had no idea what was in the letter and how important it was? That surely made no sense at all…

  With trembling fingers, he stroked the seals on the letter. “If you fear that you will lose the letter, then, and only then…” There were no enemies nearby now. And the Grey Knights had not mentioned the letter. No, of course they hadn’t. They knew better than that.

  The Black Knight with the White Shield had surely not anticipated so many dangers. Or had he?

  I can’t do it, thought Tiuri. This is impossible.

  Then, in his mind, he heard the words he had spoken when he had promised to deliver the letter: “I swear on my honour as a knight.”

  Tiuri’s doubts evaporated. He hid the letter again. This was not yet the moment to open it. And he said to himself, “I must travel on and attempt to deliver the letter, as that is the promise I made. Onwards, to King Unauwen in the land to the west of the Great Mountains!”

  6 SANCTUARY

  All that day, Tiuri hid in the cave. The Grey Knights were searching elsewhere for him. He had to be sure that there was as much distance between him and the knights as possible. Only once did he venture outside, to drink some water from the stream.

  The wait was long and dull. He tried to sleep, but that was not easy on the hard and stony ground. For a while, he entertained himself by watching two squirrels playing in a nearby tree. He missed them when they scampered off somewhere else.

  Towards the evening, he set off on his way again. He kept parallel to the path as well as he could, always remaining alert and watchful. The night seemed endless and he made slow progress. But he did not encounter any enemies.

  In the early morning, Tiuri stopped to rest behind some bushes. He worked out that he had been travelling for six days. When would he finally be out of the forest? He wondered if he should keep moving or wait for nightfall. He decided to push on – he could see more in the daytime and move faster. There was always danger, whether it was night or day.

  Suddenly, Tiuri froze. Footsteps! He peered through the leaves at the nearby path. Some people were approaching. He soon saw that they were not robbers, knights or Red Riders, but two friendly-looking monks in brown habits.

  I’m sure I can trust these men, thought Tiuri. I wonder if they’ll let me travel with them. Their company might offer me some protection.

  He stood up, stepped out onto the path and said, “Good morning.”

  The monks stopped. “God be with you,” one of them replied. They didn’t seem surprised to see him or, if they were, they didn’t show it, even though, after all his adventures, Tiuri looked dishevelled enough to cause some alarm.

  Tiuri looked more closely at the two monks. They both seemed trustworthy. One was old, tall and lean, with a brown face and grey hair. The other was short and fairly young, with freckles and penetrating grey eyes.

  “You are out early, reverend brothers,” he said. Then he fell silent, not knowing quite how to continue.

  “As are you, my son,” said the elder of the two monks.

  “Are you heading westwards?” asked Tiuri.

  “Yes,” said the other monk, pointing down the path. “We are on our way home to our monastery.”

  “Might I walk with you?” asked Tiuri.

  “Of course, my son,” said the elder monk. “We do not walk quickly, but we walk steadily, and you may accompany us for as long as you wish.”

  “Thank you,” said Tiuri.

  “Then we should introduce ourselves,” the elder monk said. “This is Brother Martin, and I am Brother Laurentius. And we live at the Brown Monastery, beside the Green River.”

  Tiuri nodded his greeting. Did he dare say his name? Not that he feared these monks, but they might mention his name to other people… He hesitated.

  “Your name does not matter, my son,” said Brother Laurentius. “Come, let us travel on.”

  “Oh, you are welcome to know my name,” said Tiuri. “It’s just that I can’t… It’s hard to explain, but…”

  The old monk smiled. “Ah, be still, my son,” he said. “Tell us or do not. It is all the same to us.”

  The three of them walked on for a while without speaking.

  It was Tiuri who broke the silence. “Is your monastery far from here?” he asked.

  “We hope to reach it before this evening,” replied Brother Martin.

  “Where is it?” asked Tiuri.

  “At the end of this path,” said the monk. “By the edge of the forest.”

  “And it’s beside the Green River, you say? Is that close to the Blue River?”

  “The Blue River lies more to the north,” said Brother Laurentius. “By the Great Road to the west.”

  So I’ve strayed off course, thought Tiuri.

  “Is that far from the monastery?” he asked.

  “Not too distant,” said Brother Laurentius. “A day’s journey, I believe. Is that not so, Brother Martin?”

  “It can’t be much more than that,” replied the other monk, looking thoughtfully at Tiuri.

  The path was wide and pleasant to walk along. Anyone would think we were out for a stroll, thought Tiuri. The forest seemed so peaceful. It was like a completely different place now. Was that because of the monks? However, Tiuri still remained alert and he kept glancing back over his shoulder.

  He noticed that Brother Martin was looking at him again.

  “Where are you travelling from, Brother Martin?” Tiuri asked.

  “A village back there, in the south, on the other side of the hills,” the monk answered, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “There was sickness in the village and they needed our help.”

  “Are you not scared to travel through the forest?” asked Tiuri. “There are robbers hereabouts.”

  “We know,” said Brother Laurentius sadly. “And their presence pains us. But we do not fear them. What could they steal from us?”

  “But there is something that you fear, is there not?” said Brother Martin. “I have seen you look around a few times, as though you were afraid something might pounce on you. What are you so concerned about?”

  Tiuri felt himself blushing and did not answer immediately. “Those robbers. They attacked me last night,” he said finally.

  “Oh dear,” replied Brother Martin. “Did they hurt you?”

  “They robbed me,” replied Tiuri.

  “Yes, I can see that, my son,” said Brother Laurentius kindly.

  Tiuri let him believe that his tattered appearance was the result of his encounter with the robbers.

  “Something really must be done about those men,” said Brother Martin with a frown. “I believe you have nothing to fear. The robbers never dare to come so close to the edge of the forest. And besides, you probably have little left for them to steal now.”

  Oh, if you only knew! thought Tiuri, but he said nothing.

  “But it is not only the robbers that you are scared of,” said Brother Martin. “There is something else, is there not?”

  “Why would you think that?” asked Tiuri.

  “You do not seem like a lad who would frighten easily,” said Brother Martin, “and you have little reason to fear robbers now, particularly not in broad daylight. So there must be something else.”

  “Is your conscience clear?” asked Brother Laurentius.

  “Yes,” said Tiuri, “I believe it is. In fact, I am certain.”

  “Then you have nothing to fear,” said the old monk.

  “At least forget about your troubles for a moment,” said the younger monk. He smiled and added, “The forest’s beautiful. The weather’s fine. It’s a lovely day.”

  As they walked on, Tiuri’s anxiety finally lifted, but he r
emained as alert as ever.

  After about an hour, Brother Martin asked if he was hungry.

  Tiuri was starving! But he said politely, “Yes, Brother Martin.”

  “It should have occurred to us sooner,” said Brother Laurentius. “This young man has lost all of his possessions, and that must include his food.”

  They sat down by the roadside and the monks shared their food with Tiuri. Then they continued their journey.

  The monks sometimes conversed as they walked along, talking about their work in nearby villages or about plants they saw growing alongside the path. They included Tiuri in their conversation, but they did not pry. In the afternoon, they paused to rest and to eat again.

  “We’ll be home in good time,” said Brother Laurentius with a smile, when they continued their journey.

  “Where are you heading?” Brother Martin asked Tiuri.

  “The Blue River,” replied Tiuri.

  “The Blue River… There’s a hermit who lives at its source,” said Brother Laurentius pensively. “His name is Menaures, isn’t it, Brother Martin?”

  “Yes. That’s it. Menaures,” he replied. “He’s very wise and very old. Pilgrims used to travel to his cabin in the mountains.”

  “Do you know him?” asked Tiuri keenly.

  The monks shook their heads. “But Father Hyronimus does,” said Brother Laurentius. “Our abbot.”

  “Ah,” said Tiuri.

  “You may spend the night at our monastery if you like,” said Brother Martin.

  “Oh yes, please. If I may,” said Tiuri gratefully.

  “Weary travellers are always welcome,” said Brother Laurentius.

  “My name is Tiuri,” he said, on an impulse.

  Brother Martin smiled and Brother Laurentius gave him a friendly nod. Then Tiuri asked the monks if they had encountered any other people in the forest. No, they told him, they had seen no one. But they had heard the sound of a horn in the distance.

  By then, the sun had completed much of its daily journey. It hung above the end of the road to the west and the three travellers felt as if they were walking along a corridor of twilight. Ahead of them, they saw a slice of golden sky, framed by dark trees.