by Bryan Perro
—2—
LORD EDONF, THE STONE SOUP, AND THE HORSES
Amos arrived home in the late afternoon. To his great surprise, Lord Edonf was there, accompanied by two guards. In front of the cottage, Amos’s parents, their heads lowered in submission, were listening to their ruler’s abusive words. The fat man was red with anger and threatened to burn down the house. He was scolding the couple for having worked his land without permission and for having hunted shamelessly on his domain. What was more, he claimed that the family had a donkey that was his. The animal had apparently been stolen from within the walls of his castle.
On this point, Lord Edonf was right. During a short nighttime visit to the castle, Amos had kidnapped the animal to spare it from the bad treatment it endured. He then told his parents that he had found the donkey in the forest and that the animal had followed him to the house. Now Edonf was requesting a large amount of money to forget the wrongdoing, and Amos’s parents, unable to pay, did not know what to say or what to do.
Panic-stricken, Amos crept unnoticed into the cottage. He could no longer bear to see his parents humiliated in this way. Things had to change for him and his family, and it was up to him to do something. He needed to act now. But what should he do? How could he and his parents hope to flee this kingdom that had become like a prison? He looked around, hoping to come up with an idea, a trick that would allow him to get rid of Edonf once and for all.
While waiting for him to return, Amos’s mother had put some water in the pot above the fire. Frilla Daragon had looked forward to making a soup with whatever her son brought home. Amos had an idea, and he plucked up enough courage to act. To avoid burning himself, he wrapped a thick cloth around one of his hands, then grabbed the big pot by its handle. Unobserved, he went out to the garden, not far from Edonf and one of his men. He put the pot on the ground, took a dead twig in his hand, and began a strange ritual. He danced as he whipped the side of the pot with the twig.
“Come to a boil, my soup! Come to a boil!” he repeated with each blow.
Consumed by anger, Edonf did not pay attention to Amos right away. Only after the seventh or eighth “Come to a boil, my soup! Come to a boil!” did Lord Edonf stop his ranting long enough to watch what Amos was doing.
“What are you up to, you stupid boy?” he yelled.
“I’m boiling water for dinner, my good lord. We’ll make a soup from stones!” Amos answered, somewhat proud of himself.
Intrigued, Lord Edonf looked at Amos’s parents, who just smiled slightly. They knew how quick-minded their son was and that he was cooking up something other than soup.
“And by what miracle can you make soup from stones?” asked Lord Edonf.
Amos had just hooked a big fish with his bait, and he wasn’t letting it go. His trick seemed to be working only too well.
“It’s very simple, my lord,” he said. “With this magic wand, I’ll bring the water to a boil and it will be warm enough to melt stones. When the mixture cools off, it will be smooth and deliciously creamy. This is the only nourishment that my parents and I have had for years.”
Edonf laughed heartily. He raised one of his shirtsleeves and rapidly dipped his hand in the water to check the temperature. As soon as he felt the burn caused by the intense heat of the liquid, his face became livid and he removed his hand in a shriek of pain. The water was truly boiling! His hand as red as a lobster, Edonf jumped up and down as he cursed all the gods of heaven.
“Quick! Quick! Some cold water!” he shouted, stamping his feet violently. “Quick! Some ice water!”
One of the guards, who had gone off to inspect the little barn, ran out to help his master. Without hesitation, he took hold of Edonf’s arm and, thinking the water was cold, dipped his hand in the pot again.
“Let go of my hand, idiot! Let go of my hand or I’ll have you hanged!” Lord Edonf yelled, tears coming to his eyes.
The guard did not understand why he was being insulted, or why his master proceeded to beat him. Kicking his backside, Edonf shoved him to the ground. Amos’s parents tried hard not to laugh. Meanwhile, Amos made a compress from the leaves of several plants and handed it to Edonf. The lord finally calmed down, exhausted by the mishap.
“I want the twig that can bring water to a boil,” he said. “Give me this twig and I’ll give you permission to farm whatever land you want and to hunt on my property. I’ll even give you the donkey!”
Amos put on a very serious face. His heart was beating madly; he was afraid that Edonf would realize he was being duped, but he did not show his fear. He had to conduct the discussion skillfully.
“Unfortunately, my lord, this magic twig has been in my family for generations,” Amos said. “It’s our most precious belonging and my parents cannot afford to part with it. Forget you ever saw this twig. Burn the house; we’ll go live elsewhere, far from your kingdom.”
Edonf’s face contracted with pain as he took ten gold coins out of his purse.
“Here is my offer for your magic stick. If you refuse this money, I’ll take your twig regardless and have your house set on fire. It’s up to you! Decide quickly, boy; I’ve almost reached the limits of my patience!”
Lowering his head as if in shame, Amos handed the stick to the lord.
“Your will prevails,” he said. “Yet you should know that it’s with a heavy heart that I accept this money. But please, my lord, don’t forget to dance around the pot as you chant, ‘Come to a boil, my soup! Come to a boil!’ ”
Edonf threw the gold coins onto the ground and grabbed the twig. “I’ll remember. I’m not stupid,” he said before climbing up on his horse.
In turn, the guards mounted their horses and the three men quickly disappeared.
Thanks to his cunning, Amos had earned the money needed to go to the woods of Tarkasis as he had promised Crivannia, princess of the waters.
But Amos was aware that Edonf would come back as soon as he discovered he had been duped. So he concocted a new plan. He made the donkey swallow eight of the ten gold coins, which he’d coated with hay and a laxative herb to facilitate their quick expulsion by the animal. He then told his parents of his adventure at the bay of caverns. To prove the truthfulness of his story, he showed them the white stone and the trident the mermaid had given him. Urban and Frilla understood right away the importance of the mission entrusted to their son. They were proud of him and encouraged Amos to go to the woods of Tarkasis to deliver Crivannia’s message.
Twelve long and difficult years had passed since the time the Daragons had settled in Edonf’s kingdom, and their survival instinct made them face the truth: Omain had nothing but poverty and misery to offer. It was time to leave. They did not possess much, so packing was done quickly.
“Go to the clearing by the foot of the mountain,” Amos told his parents. “I’ll meet you there and I’ll bring horses.”
Without questioning him, Urban and Frilla left right away to go to the meeting place. Their arms loaded with parcels, they walked unconcerned for the son they left behind. Amos was endowed with a prodigious intelligence and he would know how to protect himself against Edonf’s viciousness. The young boy had more than one bag of tricks with which to fool his enemies.
Amos waited patiently for Edonf’s return, saying good-bye to the forest where he was born, to his little cottage, and to the donkey he would have to part with. As anticipated, it wasn’t long before Edonf reappeared with his two guards.
“I’ll cut your head off, little swine!” he shouted. “I’ll slash your belly open! I’ll gulp you down in one bite, you louse!”
Calmly and unnoticed by Edonf and his men, Amos went to the small barn. He grabbed the ears of the donkey and looked straight into its eyes.
“Donkey, give me some gold! Give me some gold!” he commanded.
Edonf and his guards went first into the cottage. They looked around quickly. Then, as they were rushing toward the barn, Amos’s voice stopped them short. They heard him chanting, “Donkey,
give me some gold!”
“Let’s approach silently,” said Edonf to his guards. “We’ll take him by surprise.”
The three men peered into the barn through the many gaps in the planks.
They saw Amos gently stroke the donkey’s ears while repeating the same sentence: “Give me some gold! Give me some gold!”
Suddenly they saw the animal raise its tail and defecate. They could not believe their eyes when, one by one, Amos extracted eight gold coins from the droppings. Edonf rushed into the barn.
“Little brat! You thought you fooled me with your fake twig to boil water, didn’t you?” he said as he unsheathed his sword. “I made a mockery of myself in front of my court. A short while ago, all I could think of was killing you, but now I’ve a better idea. I’m going to take your donkey. I had heard that magic hens were able to lay golden eggs, something I never believed. But now I know that some donkeys can give gold too!”
Amos frowned. “Take my money, take my donkey and I hope you make it gallop to the castle! Then you’ll upset its stomach and all he’ll ever give you is dung!”
Edonf burst out laughing. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Why, you just gave me the precious advice I need to keep from making a serious mistake. Guards, lead this donkey out with great care! We’ll take it on foot to the castle. We’ll leave the horses here and come back for them later. I’ll walk behind you to make sure that no mishap endangers this precious creature. And if the animal poops on the way, I’ll collect all the gold coins it drops. As for you, little vermin, you can keep the eight gold coins.” He bent down to pick one up and tossed it back onto the ground. “They’re still warm! Along with the ten others I’ve already given you for the twig, you can consider that payment for the donkey.”
“No, please, my good lord, give me back my donkey!” Amos begged. “He’s all we have. Kill me if you want, but leave the donkey to my parents.”
Lord Edonf knocked Amos to the ground with a swift kick. “Why don’t you eat stone soup? It’s your specialty, isn’t it?”
Amos watched as Edonf and his two guards walked away with the precious animal. The fat man was singing and laughing. Amos too was rejoicing.
He had played his part well. He mounted Edonf’s horse and attached the two other horses’ bridles to his own. Then he went directly to the clearing at the foot of the mountain where his father and mother were waiting.
And so a new tale spread in the kingdom of Omain. The elders still retold the legend of Yack the Troubadour, but now the children also wanted to hear the story of Amos Daragon, the clever boy who had bartered a simple twig for ten gold coins, and a plain donkey for three beautiful horses.
—3—
BRATEL-LA-GRANDE
Amos’s parents had heard of the woods of Tarkasis. In the course of past travels, before their son’s birth, rumors concerning the place had reached their ears. It was said that those who dared to enter this forest were never seen again. A terrible power was supposed to inhabit these woods. Urban Daragon told his son that when he had looked for work in the small town of Berrion, he had met a very old man in the marketplace. This man was desperately trying to find his lost childhood.
He would stop every passerby. “Madam! Sir! Excuse me!” he would say. “My childhood was stolen from me! I need to find it again! Help me, please. I beg you. I’m only eleven years old! Only yesterday I was a happy child. But when I woke up this morning, my childhood was gone. Help me! Please, help me!”
Some people laughed at this strange man; others ignored him. No one took him seriously. Only Urban Daragon had ever approached him and asked what had happened to him.
“I lived close to the woods of Tarkasis,” the white-bearded and white-haired old man had answered. “My parents owned a cottage at the edge of the forest. My father told me over and over not to venture near there. Yesterday morning, I lost my dog and went to look for it. As I searched around the house, I heard barking farther away. It was my dog. I recognized the way he barks when he’s scared. I ran after him, giving no thought to my parents’ warnings. I remember seeing a lot of light, like little spots of sun shining through the trees. Then out of nowhere, beautiful, soft music started to play, and suddenly I felt like dancing. I was waltzing with the lights, I was so happy. I was calm and peaceful. I don’t know how long this lasted, but I probably danced for a very long time, because I fell asleep from exhaustion. When I woke up, there was no trace of my dog. I had this long white beard, and my hair had also turned white and grown a lot. Actually, all the hair on my body was white. Panicked, I hurried back to the house and realized that it had disappeared. So had my parents. The place was completely different, and a road stretched across where my father’s vegetable garden used to be. In tears, I followed that road and arrived here, in Berrion. This town is just a few minutes from Tarkasis, and yet I didn’t know of it. I had never heard of it. It’s as if it sprouted suddenly during the night. I don’t understand what is happening to me, dear sir. I’m eleven years old! We just celebrated my birthday. I swear that I’m not an old man. I’m not crazy. Please help me find my childhood again. Help me find my parents, my house, and my dog. Please, sir …”
Urban had believed the poor man, but there was nothing he could do for him. So he had gone on his way, shaken by the story he had heard.
The town of Berrion lay in the northernmost part of the country. After a night spent sleeping in a clearing, the Daragons got on their way at sunrise the next morning. They were ready for the monthlong journey. They had three good horses and ten gold coins. Amos had given eight of the coins to his father upon their reunion, and his father had carefully put them in his purse. Amos had hidden the other two coins in his shoes in case his trick with the donkey backfired. Edonf could have guessed that he had been tricked when Amos removed the coins from the animal’s droppings. But since Lord Edonf was even stupider than the donkey, the Daragons were in a position to undertake a trip entirely financed by their former master.
As they went through the mountain pass, Amos, Urban, and Frilla left the kingdom of Omain. They followed the north road, crossing plains and valleys, several poor villages, some green forests, and many charming little farms. The journey seemed very long to Amos. He wasn’t used to riding for entire days and went to sleep completely exhausted at night.
Along the way, Urban Daragon and his wife bought all they needed for their long trip: food, a tent, good blankets, and an oil lamp. Amos had never seen his father so happy or his mother so beautiful. Day by day, his parents were coming back to life. It was as if they were opening their eyes and awakening after an endless and gloomy slumber.
Frilla’s soft hands often braided her son’s hair with tender care. Urban laughed a lot, which touched Amos’s soul, and, in spite of his fatigue, he felt a kind of happiness he had never known before.
Amos played with his father, washed himself in the clear water of small rivers, and enjoyed the excellent food cooked by his mother. He was also given a plate of black leather armor that she had made for him, and his father bought him an earring representing a wolf’s head. Atop his horse, Amos looked majestic. With the mermaid’s trident slung across his back, his long braided hair, and his tightly fitted armor, he looked like a young warrior out of an old tale. In spite of all their expenses, Urban’s purse still contained six shiny coins—a huge fortune compared with the poverty that they saw around them.
By the fire at night, Urban spoke of his life, fascinating Amos with stories of his travels and adventures. He was an orphan and had learned a trade early in life to survive. He then took to the road “to conquer the world,” as he said, laughing at his innocence. Unfortunately, he encountered more disappointments than satisfaction on his travels. But his fate turned the day he met Frilla. She was a beautiful eighteen-year-old girl, with her long black hair and nut-brown eyes, a shepherdess by trade. She won his heart. Her parents had promised her to another man, so she and Urban eloped. A happy star had appeared in the young man’s life,
and for eight years Urban and Frilla lived blissfully, wandering from village to village, from one kingdom to another. Then an even greater happiness befell them after they settled in the kingdom of Omain, the birth of their child. But the miserable twelve years that followed had been a horrible experience that they now wanted to forget.
Two weeks into their journey north, the Daragons met a knight on the road. He sported a large sword, his shield was adorned with a blazing sun, and his armor sparkled as bright as a mirror.
“Stop!” he shouted. “Identify yourselves, or you’ll pay for your silence.”
Urban Daragon cordially introduced himself and explained that he and his family were headed north to Berrion. He added that he and his wife were craftspeople who had decided to travel again after spending a good number of years in the kingdom of Omain, where their excellent workmanship had been rewarded many times by the ruler. It was not a common sight to see craftspeople riding such beautiful horses, but the knight nodded as if satisfied with the explanation. Of course, Urban did not confess the real reasons that were taking them to Berrion.
“Is it true that the lord of Omain is as stupid as an ass?” the knight inquired, laughing.
“It’s an insult to donkeys to compare them to Lord Edonf,” Amos answered. “At least donkeys are hardworking beasts. It would take only one knight such as yourself to seize all the land in Omain. The entire army there is just like Lord Edonf—cowardly and lazy.”
“Your son has a sharp tongue, but he seems to recognize the power of the sword when it crosses his path,” the knight said, obviously flattered by the compliment. “My fellow knights and I are on the lookout for sorcerers hiding by the roadside in this forest. We know they’re in there, but they surely bear no resemblance to you. You may continue on your way, good travelers.” The knight nodded. Then he added, “Be informed that you’re entering the kingdom of the Knights of Light. Our capital, Bratel-la-Grande, is only a few miles away. Tell the sentinel at the city gates that Barthelemy gave you permission to enter. Don’t waste time getting to the capital. When night falls, strange things happen outside our walls. May the light shine on you! Farewell, good people.”