The Letter for the King

by Tonke Dragt

  Tiuri wondered if he should confide in them. He wanted to tell them his worries, because he knew that his parents were proud of him. Maybe they would sympathize and feel that the king had acted unfairly – although he wasn’t sure about his father, who had a very high opinion of Dagonaut and considered his word to be law. But Tiuri decided not to say anything. First he wanted to get his own confused and contradictory thoughts in order. Anyway, his parents would find out soon enough that he would not become a knight, or at least not for a while yet.

  That afternoon, Tiuri became restless and needed to get some fresh air. He saddled Ardanwen and went for a ride outside the city, so that he could think everything through calmly.

  He did not regret running away on midsummer’s eve, and he would do it again if it came to it. King Dagonaut was right: he had to accept the consequences. He had to reconcile himself to the thought of not becoming a knight. He reflected upon King Dagonaut, whose attitude had disappointed him. Would King Unauwen have reacted in the same way? But he knew that he must not think that way. Dagonaut was his king and he was duty bound to obey him. Dagonaut was stern, but not unfair. It was quite possible that Dagonaut approved of his actions but still felt that Tiuri should bear the consequences.

  Tiuri reined in Ardanwen and gazed at the city. The afternoon was drawing to its end and he had to return. The ride had done him some good; he felt he could accept the disappointment now. As he rode back into the city, Tirillo’s words echoed in his thoughts: “One does not need to carry a sword and a shield to be a knight.”

  “Exactly!” he said to himself. “It doesn’t matter if I am a knight or not. I am still Tiuri, and I can still do good whenever it is needed.”

  7 A KNIGHT WITH A WHITE SHIELD

  Tiuri’s parents were waiting impatiently for him at the inn. King Dagonaut was holding a feast at the palace and they were expected to attend. All of the knights who were in the city would be there, along with their ladies and their squires.

  “The king wants you to be there too,” Sir Tiuri said to his son.

  “I know,” Tiuri replied.

  “Wear your sword,” said the knight, when they were ready to leave.

  “I’m not entitled to wear a sword to the palace,” said Tiuri. “You do know the king is not going to knight me, don’t you?”

  “I know,” his father said calmly. “But you are still to buckle it on; those are his orders. Here, and take my shield.”

  “May I become your squire again, Father?” asked Tiuri, accepting his father’s shield.

  “That is for the king to decide,” his father replied.

  “Which of the knights will be there this evening?” asked Tiuri. “I saw Arman and Jussipo this morning.”

  “They are the only ones among your friends who are still in the city. Wilmo is back on his father’s estate and Foldo has been sent to the south. And only a few of the older knights are still in the city. Your mother and I also intend to leave soon. We kept delaying our journey back to Tehuri because we hoped to receive news of you.”

  Castle Tehuri! Suddenly Tiuri longed for his ancestral home, where he had not been for over a year. He wondered what would happen to him now. Would he have to stay and serve the king as he had done before? Then he felt a longing for somewhere else… If only he were still in the City of Unauwen, the most beautiful city in the world, on the White River, close to the sea in the west!

  At the palace, tables had been laid in the smallest of the halls that were used for gatherings of the king and his knights. It was still a large enough room, though, and was surrounded by a beautiful series of columns. The shields of the knights who were present that evening hung on the columns. Tiuri placed his father’s shield in its place and stepped into the background, but he was soon spotted. Arman and Jussipo came over, dressed in their full armour, as befits true knights. But their young and cheerful faces had not changed at all.

  “We heard you were back,” they said, shaking Tiuri’s hand, “but we didn’t know if it was really true. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” said Tiuri with a smile. “I don’t need to ask you that question, do I?”

  The young knights looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment.

  “You’ve travelled a long way, haven’t you?” said Arman. Then he added, “I saw you sneaking out that night, you know.”

  “Why did you do that?” asked Jussipo.

  “Why did I leave?” said Tiuri.

  “Yes. It was really rather foolish of you.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t do it without a good reason,” said Arman, a little angrily.

  Tiuri smiled again. Arman had always been his friend.

  “You’re right,” he said. “There was a good reason.”

  Then the lord steward asked the guests to take their seats. The king was about to arrive.

  “Come and sit with us,” said Arman to Tiuri.

  Tiuri shook his head. Only the knights and their ladies sat at the main table at such occasions. His place was still with the squires and the servants. He walked over to join them and to greet some old friends. But the lord steward stopped him and said, “Tiuri, son of Tiuri, your place is there.”

  “At the main table!” exclaimed Tiuri. “No, Sir Muldo. That can’t be right!”

  “Your place is at the main table,” repeated the lord steward, “between Sir Arman and Sir Jussipo. Those are my orders.”

  Tiuri could no longer protest, because the sound of trumpets announced the arrival of the king. So he stood with the knights and their ladies at the main table, which was arranged in the shape of a horseshoe. He bowed when the king entered and waited for him to welcome his guests and take his seat. Only then would everyone else be allowed to sit down.

  However, King Dagonaut remained standing and he looked around the room at those present. His gaze rested on Tiuri, who felt rather uneasy, as he believed he had no right to be standing at the main table as if he were a knight.

  The king welcomed his knights and their ladies. And then he said, “You will have noticed that a young knight has joined us for the first time… the youngest of you all. I would like to welcome him in particular. Greetings, Sir Tiuri, son of Tiuri!”

  Tiuri stared at the king in amazement. King Dagonaut started to laugh. “See how he looks at me!” he cried. “Sir Tiuri, I bid you welcome! Step closer, so that we may better greet each other and I may perform the appropriate gesture to lend force to my words.”

  Tiuri obeyed. “Your Majesty!” he said, when he stood before the king. “Forgive me, but I thought…”

  “You thought I would not knight you!” said the king, laughing again. Then he became serious and said, “You misunderstood, Tiuri, although I must confess that I deliberately misled you. I wanted you to realize that you would have acted as you did, no matter what the consequences.”

  “Oh,” said Tiuri quietly.

  “However, there is another reason why I said I would not make you a knight,” the king continued. “It was, in fact, no longer necessary. If you had not listened to that plea for help, you would be a knight by now. But, having heeded it and successfully completed your mission and kept your promise to Sir Edwinem, does that mean that you are not a knight? You may not have been knighted in a ceremony, but you have proven yourself a knight. You have knighted yourself, Tiuri, and my tapping you on the shoulders with a blade will not make you any more of a knight than you already are!”

  A murmur went around the room. Tiuri looked at the king, feeling full of emotion: he was astonished, bashful, proud and happy, all at the same time.

  “Give me your sword,” said the king.

  Tiuri did so.

  “Kneel,” the king ordered.

  Tiuri obeyed. The king tapped him on both shoulders with the flat of the blade and said, “Arise, Sir Tiuri!”

  When Tiuri had stood up, King Dagonaut buckled on his sword for him, and kissed him, as was customary. Then he beckoned one of his servants, who brought him a s
hield as white as snow.

  “Sir Tiuri,” said the king, “you are about to swear your loyalty to me. But at the request of King Unauwen I am to give you a white shield, as a sign that you will also be Unauwen’s servant, and as a reminder of the knight whose task you performed.”

  Tiuri took the shield and, with trembling voice, he spoke the oath that every young knight must promise and keep.

  “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 use my sword only in the service of good, against evil, and to use my shield to protect those who are weaker than myself.”

  Then all the people in the room cried out, “Long live Sir Tiuri with the White Shield!”

  And Tiuri bowed his head because his eyes were full of tears.

  Now the feast could begin. Servants and squires carried in dishes of food and filled glasses to the brim. Tiuri saw many happy, surprised and curious faces looking in his direction. He did not sit down, however, but turned to the king and said in a whisper, “Sire, may I ask you something?”

  “What is it, Sir Tiuri?”

  “May I have your permission to leave the feast?” asked Tiuri, so quietly that only the king could hear him.

  “Why?” the king whispered back.

  “Sire… I have not yet completed my vigil…” Tiuri began.

  The king immediately understood.

  “Then go, Tiuri,” he said kindly. “I shall see you tomorrow.”

  As discreetly as possible, Tiuri left the hall and headed outside. He climbed up onto Ardanwen’s back and rode through the silent streets to the city gate.

  Tiuri knelt on the stone floor of the chapel, staring at the pale flame of the candle in front of him. Everything that he had seen and done seemed like a dream. He felt certain that he would turn around and see that his friends were there, too: Arman, Foldo, Wilmo and Jussipo. And then he would know that he had just imagined the voice that asked him to open the door, and all of the adventures that followed.

  But when he looked around, he was still alone, and his white shield hung above the altar.

  So it had really happened. The Tiuri who was keeping his vigil now was a different person from the Tiuri of all those many days ago. Only now did he realize what it meant to be a knight. And still he was only at the beginning of his life in the service of his king and his country. Everything that he had been through could be seen as a test. He thought about his experiences, the people he had met, the friends he had made. He also reflected upon the future and promised himself that he would try to be a good knight.

  And that is how Tiuri spent the night. He did not rise to his feet until the first rays of sun shone through the windows of the chapel, making them glow and gleam.

  8 SUNRISE

  Tiuri left the chapel and headed outside to where faithful Ardanwen had waited patiently for him. The sun hung behind the towers of the city, which looked magnificent in the morning light – almost as beautiful as the City of Unauwen. Tiuri climbed onto Ardanwen and slowly rode downhill.

  When they had almost reached the bottom of the hill, Tiuri saw a boy coming along the road from the west, shabbily dressed, but with a sword at his side.

  He looks like Piak, he thought. And then he realized with a jolt that it was Piak!

  The boy stopped to look at the city, shielding his eyes with his hand. He had not seen Tiuri. Tiuri shook the reins and raced towards his friend.

  Piak didn’t recognize him at first and he leapt back, startled.

  “Piak,” said Tiuri. “Piak!” He jumped down from his horse.

  “Tiuri… it’s you!” Piak exclaimed.

  The two friends shook hands and slapped each other on the back.

  “It really is you!” said Piak. “I thought you were a knight. Wait… are you a knight now?”

  “Yes, yes,” said Tiuri. “But what are you doing here?”

  “I changed my mind,” replied Piak, suddenly looking shy. “I want… I’d like… I realized I’d rather be your squire.”

  “My squire!” exclaimed Tiuri. “My friend, travelling companion, guide and – who knows? – maybe one day a knight of the king!”

  “That’s asking too much!” cried Piak. “All I want is to be your friend and squire. At least, that’s if you still need a squire.”

  “You are the only squire I want,” said Tiuri.

  “You’re an impressive sight!” said Piak, looking him up and down. “I didn’t even recognize you at first. Am I still allowed to call you Tiuri?”

  “I’ll clip you around the ears if you call me anything else,” said Tiuri, laughing.

  “And you have a white shield! How did that happen? I thought only Unauwen’s knights had white shields.”

  “I’ll tell you all about it later on,” said Tiuri.

  “Is this your black horse?” asked Piak, cautiously stroking Ardanwen’s nose.

  “Yes, this is Ardanwen and he belongs to me now,” said Tiuri. “I’m sure he won’t mind if you ride him too, though. But tell me, how did you get here so quickly? When did you change your mind, and why?”

  “I regretted it almost immediately,” said Piak. “I was walking up the mountain, back to Menaures, and with every step I took, I thought, The distance is getting longer, and longer, and longer… And when I was back up there, doing the usual chores, and I had more time to think, then I knew for certain. I really regretted my decision! Finally I told Menaures and he just smiled and said, ‘I knew you would. Go on, then. Go after your friend, as quick as you can.’”

  “Why didn’t he say that before?” asked Tiuri.

  “I asked him the same question. Do you know what he said? ‘Because now you know for certain that you want to be with Tiuri, no matter how much you miss the mountains.’ He was right. You see, since you left, any doubts I had were gone. So, I said goodbye to Menaures and I started running down the mountain. Phew, did I hurry! It took me a day or so to reach Castle Mistrinaut. I remembered that you’d told me about it, so I decided to stop there. And, of course, I asked if they had any news of you, which they did. They all came to talk to me, the lord, his wife and his daughter. She seems very nice and, of course, she’s really pretty too. You know, I think she likes you.” Piak gave Tiuri a mischievous grin. “Do you like her too?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do,” said Tiuri, blushing a little.

  Piak grinned again. “They were very kind to me,” he continued. “They even lent me a horse. A squire rode with me some of the way and took the horse back with him. I only had to walk the last part of the way.” He paused. “So here I am,” he finished. “And now you have to tell me all about your journey and what King Dagonaut said to you.”

  “All in good time,” said Tiuri. “First come back to the city with me. Then you can meet my parents, and Dagonaut’s knights, and the king himself.”

  “And then?” asked Piak.

  “And then we’ll see what happens next,” said Tiuri. “I’m sure there’ll be something for us to do.”

  Then Tiuri, leading Ardanwen and with Piak by his side, walked slowly eastwards, back to the City of Dagonaut.

  About the Author

  TONKE DRAGT was born in Jakarta in 1930 and spent most of her childhood in Indonesia. When she was twelve, she was interned in a camp run by the Japanese occupiers, where she wrote (with a friend) her very first book using begged and borrowed paper. Her family moved to the Netherlands after the war and, after studying at the Royal Academy of Art in The Hague, Dragt became an art teacher. She published her first book in 1961, followed a year later by The Letter for the King, which won the Children’s Book of the Year award and has been translated into sixteen languages. Dragt was awarded the State Prize for Youth Literature in 1976 and was knighted in 2001.

  LAURA WATKINSON studied medieval and modern languages at Oxford, and taught English around the world before returning to the UK to take a Master’s in English and Applied Linguistics and a postgraduate certificate in literary tr
anslation. She is now a full-time translator from Dutch, Italian and German. She lives in Amsterdam. In 2012, her translation of Bibi Dumon Tak’s Soldier Bear won the American Library Association’s Mildred L. Batchelder Award for the year’s most outstanding children’s book in translation.

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  The Letter for the King first published in Dutch as De brief voor de koning

  © 1962, De brief voor de koning by Tonke Dragt, Uitgeverij Leopold, Amsterdam

  © illustrations Tonke Dragt

  English language translation © 2013 Laura Watkinson

  The publisher gratefully acknowledges the support of the Dutch Foundation for Literature.

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