by Tonke Dragt
“I think that only the letter is missing,” said Tiuri. He turned to Piak. “You saw him again,” he said. “So perhaps we can still catch up with him!”
“The murderer?” asked Warmin.
“He can’t have gone far,” said Piak. “There was nothing we could do. He would have… He was going to…”
“I understand the situation better now,” said Warmin. “But we shouldn’t waste time talking.” He ran to his horse. “Where did you see him?” he asked Piak.
Piak pointed at a hill to the southwest.
“Shall we go after him?” Warmin asked Tiuri.
“Yes,” Tiuri replied, climbing onto his horse.
“But be careful, Ti… Martin,” Piak said to his friend.
“Stay close together,” Warmin ordered the men. “And keep the youngsters in the middle.”
And they set off. But Tiuri was thinking: If the murderer’s really Slither, I’m afraid we’re not going to find him.
The hours that followed were not anxious ones now, but full of feverish excitement. They found a trail of flattened grass and followed it until it disappeared into a stream. Then they rode across the hills for some time. But they might as well have been chasing shadows, because they found no one. The night was well advanced by the time they returned to the road, not far from their starting point.
“Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?” Warmin asked Tiuri and Piak.
“It’s possible, of course,” said Tiuri, “but I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure we didn’t,” said Piak firmly.
“If it’s the man I fear it is, he won’t be easy to find,” said Tiuri.
“And who’s that?” asked Warmin.
“I can’t tell you,” Tiuri replied. “I know hardly anything about him.”
Warmin looked surprised. “Well, that’s mysterious,” he said. “Might he perhaps be dressed in brown, with thin, blond hair and a hat with a wide brim?”
Now it was Tiuri’s turn to be surprised. “What makes you say that?” he asked. Then he remembered something. The man who had leant over the bridge and laughed…
“Yes, I still need to tell you about that,” said Warmin. “But what are we going to do now? We can’t just leave the dead man lying here. And the murderer must be caught, if not now, then tomorrow. We need to notify Dangria and the king – but firstly, Ingewel; that’s the closest town and there’s sure to be a messenger there. Sir Andomar’s men can help to look for the murderer. He may have headed to Ingewel, don’t you think?”
“You’re right,” said Tiuri. “But we can’t wait. We have to travel on.”
“I know,” said Warmin. “We are to accompany you for as long as you wish. But shall I tell some of my men to go to Ingewel and make sure the dead man’s taken care of?”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” said Tiuri.
Warmin gave instructions to three of his men, who set off on the road to Ingewel. Then he turned to Tiuri and Piak. “Now I’ll tell you why the toll master sent us,” he said. “What shall we do? Ride on or rest a while?”
“A little rest would be welcome,” said Piak, and Tiuri agreed.
They sat down by the roadside and Warmin said, “What I have to tell you will not take too long. The messenger from Dangria – God rest his soul – arrived at the toll bridge yesterday evening.”
“Did you know he was a messenger?” asked Tiuri.
“He had no reason to keep it a secret,” said Warmin. “He needed a fresh horse, and a messenger may ask for a fresh horse wherever he stops. So he swapped horses and went on his way immediately. He said he wanted to cover more distance before he rested. That’s all I know about him. Imin had better tell you the rest. He had the morning watch.”
One of the other men took over. “Yes, I had the watch this morning,” he said. “Or yesterday morning, as it is now. The first person to reach the bridge was that foreigner – at least I think he was a foreigner, judging by his accent. He paid the toll, three gold pieces, as it was the first time he’d crossed the river. Then he struck up a conversation with me. We talked about all kinds of things, about the weather, about the crops, and then he asked me if a young man had crossed the bridge recently. He said it might have been two boys. One was about sixteen years old, with dark hair and light eyes. He didn’t say anything about the other one. I told him there had been two young men – I meant the two of you, of course – who had been unable to pay the toll and who must still be on the eastern side of the river. The stranger seemed to find that amusing. Well, maybe that’s a bit strong. He just said, ‘Fancy that,’ but I could swear he smiled. I couldn’t see his face very well. He’d pulled his hat down low and it had a wide rim…”
“Did you get much of a look at him?” Tiuri asked.
“Not really. He had blond hair, which stuck out from under his hat, and just ordinary clothes, all brown… and he… but I’ll come to that. Anyway, then we spotted you on the island. Warmin was ordered to go and fetch you. And I forgot all about that business with the foreigner. I thought he’d ridden on. But I was standing with another guard on the bridge, watching them fetch you from the island, and suddenly he appeared beside us. ‘So those are the boys you were talking about, are they?’ he said. ‘Shame on them, trying to avoid paying the toll!’ He asked us what the punishment was and he seemed to like the reply. He leant over the bridge to look and he laughed. The way he laughed made me shudder. I thought you deserved your punishment, but I didn’t like that fellow at all. Then we went back to the barrier because people were waiting to cross the bridge. Later on, Warmin came over to us.”
“Yes,” said Warmin. “I told Imin you’d asked to speak to the toll master.”
“And the foreigner was still hanging around,” Imin continued. “He said the two of you belonged in jail. Then I said, ‘You almost seem to be wishing it upon them! You know those boys, don’t you?’ But he said he didn’t. ‘Really?’ I said. ‘You were asking about a boy with dark hair and light eyes, weren’t you?’ ‘There are plenty enough boys who match that description,’ he said. ‘I don’t know that young man. The one I asked about is a friend of mine. He was supposed to be crossing the river with me, but he must have been held up. He’s coming from the east, from Dangria.’”
“When he said that,” Warmin chipped in, “I told him about the messenger who had passed through the previous evening. He too had dark hair and light eyes. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that, but I had no reason to suspect anything untoward. When the man heard that, he looked shocked…”
“Oh, yes. He was shocked all right,” said Imin. “He lifted his head and he just stared at us. And that was when I had a proper shock – it was those eyes of his. It was like looking at a snake! And then, suddenly, he was in a hurry. He raced over the bridge as if the devil himself were chasing after him!”
So it’s as I feared, thought Tiuri. The man must have been Slither; it was almost certain. At first, the spy had believed – correctly – that the boy he was looking for was safely locked up, but when he heard about another young man who had ridden westwards, a messenger for King Unauwen, he had started to doubt himself and had gone chasing after him. The poor scribe had been killed by an arrow that was meant for him, for Tiuri! But Slither must know by now that he had made a mistake and murdered the wrong man. He had stolen the letter and read it, so he must have realized it wasn’t the letter he was looking for…
Warmin continued the story, “Later, after you’d gone, I spoke to the toll master. He seemed to be concerned about something that the second messenger from Dangria had told him. He asked me if you’d already left and then he said, half to himself, ‘I wonder if it was wise to allow them to travel alone.’ ‘Why, my lord?’ I asked. ‘They might be in danger,’ he said. Then I told him about the man on the bridge. It wasn’t much, but it seemed to alarm him. ‘Warmin,’ he said, ‘do you think you can still catch up with those young men? Then saddle your horse and take ten armed men with you. Find them, ride with them
and guard them with your own life if necessary. Maybe you’ll even be able to catch up with the messenger from Dangria. Perhaps I’m overly concerned, but I sense danger, particularly for the two boys.’ That’s what he said, and so here we are.” Warmin looked at the two friends. “So,” he said, “will you accept us as an escort? Or was the toll master unnecessarily concerned, and are you not in danger?”
“I’m afraid that he was right,” said Tiuri.
“Does the murder of the messenger from Dangria have something to do with it?”
“Yes,” said Tiuri. “I met him before. He helped me in Dangria. And now… now he’s dead, and I’m still alive…”
Warmin looked at him with a question on his face. “Do you think he mistook…?”
Tiuri sighed and shook his head. “Talking about it won’t help.”
Warmin shrugged. “My master told me not to ask any questions,” he said. “So I shall simply do as I was told and assist you with men and with weapons.”
“My thanks,” said Tiuri. “Shall we get going?” He stood up and realized that his legs were shaking with exhaustion. But, even so, he was soon back in the saddle.
And so Tiuri and Piak continued their journey, guarded by the toll master’s men.
At daybreak, they encountered some shepherds who were grazing their sheep on the slopes. Warmin told them about the crime and gave them a description of the murderer, and asked them to keep an eye out for him.
The morning was almost over when they came to a small village and the inn where they intended to rest. Before long, they were sitting together at a table and the innkeeper was placing a meal in front of them. Warmin told him they had come from the toll master’s castle and asked if he had any fresh horses.
“Not for your entire company,” said the innkeeper. “I don’t have that many horses.”
Warmin looked at Tiuri. “What do you think?” he asked. “It seems that the best course of action would be for us all to stay here for a while, so that our horses can rest, and then travel on together. We could do with some rest ourselves.”
Tiuri nodded. “Fine,” he said. “But I don’t want to stay here too long.”
Warmin looked more closely at him. “You certainly look like you need some rest,” he said. “And so does your friend. Look, he’s already fallen asleep.”
And indeed Piak had dozed off. His head lay on the table beside his half-eaten lunch. Tiuri could feel now how tired he was himself, so tired that he could hardly eat anything. His companions’ conversations were muffled and distant, and not even the fear that Slither might be nearby could keep him awake.
Warmin laid his hand on Tiuri’s shoulder. “Hey, how do you feel?” he asked. “How long is it since you last had a good sleep?”
How long had it been? Tiuri’s memory of recent days was of almost constant travelling, of tiring days and sleepless nights. “I don’t know…” he mumbled.
“The two of you are going to bed this instant!” cried Warmin. “Or would you rather fall asleep on your horse later and roll out of the saddle?”
His loud voice woke Piak, who sat up, blinking.
Tiuri rose to his feet. Warmin was right. He needed to rest for a while and gather his strength for the final part of his journey.
“How far is it to the City of Unauwen?” he asked.
“Two and a half days’ ride,” replied Warmin.
“And what time is it now?”
“Past midday,” replied the innkeeper.
“Do you have a bed for these two young men?” Warmin asked him.
“Of course,” said the innkeeper. “Come with me.”
“Fine,” said Tiuri. “But I want someone to wake me at four.”
He wouldn’t go with the innkeeper until Warmin had promised to wake him. Before long, he and Piak were in bed and fast asleep.
Warmin kept his promise and came to wake them at four. “We can stay longer if you like,” he said. “Why not spend the night here and travel on tomorrow?”
“No,” said Tiuri, stifling a yawn. “It’s another two and a half days and I want to get there sooner if possible.”
“I have news of the murderer,” said Warmin.
“Slither?” cried Piak.
Warmin smiled. “Ah, so he’s called Slither, is he?” he said.
“What news?” asked Tiuri.
“Oh, there’s no need to be afraid of him anymore,” said Warmin. “He’ll be caught soon enough. Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ve asked the innkeeper to serve up a decent meal.” And with those words, he left the room.
“Oh, I’m such a fool!” said Piak, when Warmin was gone. “I keep opening my big mouth.”
“Don’t worry,” said Tiuri. “Why shouldn’t Warmin know that our enemy’s name is Slither?”
“But I’m still a fool,” said Piak with a sigh. “I wasn’t quite awake, that’s why. You’re right, though. It doesn’t matter if Warmin knows. It’s no real help to us either. We know so little about the man.”
Warmin’s news had removed any lingering drowsiness, and the two friends couldn’t get downstairs quickly enough. They found Warmin and three of his men waiting for them. While they were eating, Warmin told them that a frightened horseman had arrived at the inn an hour before. It was one of the shepherds from the hills to the east.
“The shepherd told us he’d been alone with his flock,” said Warmin, “when a man came riding up. He got off his horse and asked the shepherd if he had any food to spare. The shepherd saw that he matched the description of the murderer that we’d given him… dressed in brown, with long, thin, blond hair and a wide-brimmed hat. He was scared and the murderer realized that he’d recognized him. The man threatened to kill him if he called for help. So the shepherd did the best thing he could have done: he jumped on the man’s horse and rode off! The murderer shot an arrow after him but luckily he missed.”
“The arrow’s still in his hat,” added one of the other men.
“So where’s this shepherd now?” asked Tiuri. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“There was no need,” said Warmin. “You were sleeping so soundly. But we’ve sent out a group of armed men to the spot where the shepherd met the murderer. Four of my men went with them and the shepherd’s gone to show them the way. He acted quickly and cleverly by taking the horse. The murderer’s not going to be able to go anywhere far or fast now.”
“That’s true,” said Tiuri. And yet he would have liked to have spoken to the shepherd himself. He wanted to know more about the man whose evil presence he had felt time and again since they had left Dangria. There was no doubt that it was Slither. But so many people were looking for Slither now, he had lost his horse, and they were some way ahead of him. He and Piak just had to make sure they didn’t lose their advantage.
He looked at Warmin. “Perhaps, Warmin,” he said, “we no longer require your escort. I don’t think he’s such a threat to us now.”
“As you wish,” Warmin replied. “But it would be little effort to ride some of the way with you. The road through the Hills of the Moon is a lonely one. And the toll master has ordered me to protect you. I should be most upset if anything were to happen to you after we had parted.”
Tiuri smiled. “I am very grateful to you and to the toll master for your help,” he said. “Without you, this might have ended badly.”
Finally they agreed that Warmin and his three remaining men should accompany the two friends at least as far as the end of the Hills of the Moon. And then they could decide what to do next.
By half past four, they were on the road again, and they made quick progress. The moon was already high in the sky when they spotted a castle on a hill in the distance.
“That is the Castle of the White Moon,” said Warmin. “The home of Sir Ivan. The innkeeper said we’ll be able to spend the night there.”
“So I’m going to get to sleep in a castle,” said Piak, “and not in a dark dungeon this time! It looks beautiful from here.”
“It’s very old,” said Warmin. “But the toll master’s castle is even older. Sir Ardian was once a knight-errant without a home, but now he bears the ancient title of toll master and resides in the fortress beside the Rainbow River.”
“Isn’t the castle at the toll his ancestral home?” asked Tiuri.
“No. The title of toll master is not passed on from father to son. The king himself appoints the toll masters and he selects the best of his knights to do the job.”
“The knights with the white shields,” said Piak.
“Yes. But the lords of the toll may also bear the seven colours of the rainbow.”
“How many knights does your king have?” asked Tiuri. “And what are their names?”
“Oh, there’s no quick answer to that question! You know some of the names already, don’t you? There’s Ardian, my master, and Wardian, his brother, and Sir Ivan, whose castle you can see there, and Sir Ivan’s sons, who are still young. And then there’s Andomar of Ingewel, and Edwinem of Forèstèrra, also known as the Invincible, and Marwen of Iduna… Oh, I could list many more names and tell tales of their deeds. My master could do it better than I, though; he has big books that are filled with the history of our land.”
Tiuri remembered the book he’d seen when he was waiting for the toll master.
“Hey, Warmin,” he said, “your language is almost exactly the same as ours. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
“What’s so strange about it?” said Warmin. “I think it’s stranger when someone who looks just the same as me speaks a language I don’t understand, just because he comes from a different country. But the language we speak here is not our only language. There is another language, which is very old… so old that most people don’t know it these days. It’s just the king and the princes, the scholars and some knights who can still speak and understand that language.”
“Does the toll master know it?” asked Tiuri.
“I believe so,” replied Warmin. “He’s very learned, and he can read books. I used to have to draw a cross whenever anyone asked me to write my name, but he taught me my letters.”