The Secrets of the Wild Wood

by Tonke Dragt

  “They pay no attention to us,” a knight had told them at a castle where they stopped for the night. “Eviellan’s eyes are focused only on the Kingdom of Unauwen. I have heard rumours of a great battle that was fought there, but I do not know the outcome.”

  Tiuri had asked if there was any news of Sir Ristridin. Was he already back at his castle? But the knight, like everyone else they had encountered along the way, had been unable to answer that question.

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” said Piak, when they spotted distant towers that could only be Castle Ristridin. “All of these castles look so alike, don’t they? Big and made of stone, with thick walls and battlements. I don’t like them much, although they can be quite pleasant inside.” He let go of the reins for a moment and rubbed his hands, which were blue with cold. A little later, he called out, “Look! I can see something else in the distance over there. Mountains!”

  Yes, far to the west of them rose the hazy summits of the Great Mountains, almost indistinguishable from the grey clouds above.

  “We’re riding along the Third Great Road to the west now,” said Tiuri. “It leads through a mountain pass and into the Kingdom of Unauwen.”

  “And we travelled along some of the First Great Road last year,” said Piak, “past Castle Mistrinaut. So where’s the Second Great Road?”

  “The Second Great Road,” replied Tiuri, “has practically disappeared. It’s been overgrown by the Wild Wood.”

  “I can see a forest, too,” said Piak. “Do you think that’s the Wild Wood?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve heard it’s more to the west.”

  “Sir Ristridin may be able to tell us more about it soon,” said Piak. “Do you know I almost feel like I know him? Even though I’ve never met him in my life. You’ve told me so much about them, about Ristridin and Bendu, and Arwaut and Evan. See, I remember all of their names.”

  “And we’re going to meet Sir Arturin, too,” said Tiuri, “Ristridin’s brother. I don’t know him either, but he’s to be our host.”

  They reached the castle towards evening. The lookout at the top of one of the towers had sounded his horn to announce their arrival. Creaking, the drawbridge came down. As they rode across, one of the doors in the gate opened slowly and a group of four armed guards appeared.

  “It seems they don’t just let their guests wander in, eh?” Piak whispered to Tiuri.

  Tiuri greeted the guards. “We come as friends,” he said, “and we ask for hospitality. Sir Tiuri, and Piak, his squire.”

  “Sir Tiuri?” repeated one of the guards. “So you’ve not come from the west? But you’re carrying a white shield, like a knight of Unauwen, and you’re far younger than I believed Tiuri the Valiant to be.”

  “I am his son,” said Tiuri. “Tiuri with the White Shield. I am here at the invitation of Sir Ristridin.”

  “Sir Ristridin!” cried the guard. “Do you bring news of him?!”

  “No,” said Tiuri. “Has he not returned?”

  “Not yet,” replied the guard.

  “But he was supposed to come here in the spring.”

  “That’s true,” said the guard, “but he has not yet arrived. Sir Bendu is also waiting for him; he arrived the day before yesterday. Please enter, Tiuri, son of Tiuri. I shall have your arrival announced to Sir Arturin.”

  Soon the two friends were standing before Sir Arturin, the lord of the castle, who greeted them warmly. “Welcome, Sir Tiuri,” he said, “and you too, young squire. A fire burns in the hearth, and food is ready. I also welcome you in the name of my brother, who I believe invited you here.”

  Tiuri didn’t think that Sir Arturin resembled his brother Ristridin at all. He was shorter than the knight-errant and nowhere near as lean; they just shared the same curly hair.

  Now another man came over to Tiuri and Piak, a large, dark-haired man with a beard.

  “Sir Bendu!” cried Tiuri.

  “The very same,” the man said, shaking Tiuri’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, Tiuri. And I note that what I predicted has now come to pass: you are a knight, as is only right and proper.” He turned to Piak, who was standing there, looking a little awkward. “And who might you be?” he asked.

  “This is Piak, my best friend,” said Tiuri. “He was my guide through the mountains and my travelling companion in the Kingdom of Unauwen. Now he is my squire.”

  Bendu shook Piak’s hand, too, so firmly that Piak winced. Then Bendu spoke to Tiuri, “Do you bring news of Ristridin?”

  “It’s been a few months since I saw him,” Tiuri replied. “Just before he went to the Wild Wood.”

  “Oh,” said Bendu, clearly disappointed.

  “As you can see, he has not yet returned,” said Sir Arturin. “But he is no longer in the Wild Wood either.”

  “He isn’t?” said Tiuri. “So where is he? And what happened to him in the forest?”

  “We know very little about it,” replied Arturin. “And we have no idea of his whereabouts now. He left the Wild Wood in the winter; a messenger from Islan brought me the news. Castle Islan is close to the Wild Wood, as you probably know. Ristridin passed by the castle and asked the lord there to send messages to King Dagonaut and to me. He intended to travel on to other parts, where there was more for a knight to do. He said the paths in the Wild Wood were dead ends or led to ruins of towns and villages that were abandoned long ago.”

  “That may be so,” said Bendu, “but I still think he could at least have said where he meant to go. Does the Lord of Islan truly have no idea?”

  “I wrote him a letter,” said Sir Arturin. “He replied to say that was all he knew. Ristridin did not even enter his castle. He was in a hurry and heading eastwards.” Arturin fell silent, a frown on his face.

  “Why not to the south?” said Bendu. “He had a mission to carry out there!”

  “A mission?” repeated Tiuri. Then suddenly he understood. Like Bendu, Ristridin had sworn to punish the Black Knight with the Red Shield – the leader of the Red Riders and the man who had murdered their friend Edwinem. That knight fought with his visor closed. No one knew who he was or what he looked like.

  “Have you just returned from Eviellan?” Tiuri asked. “What happened there? Did you find the Knight with the Red Shield?”

  “Did I find him? I can’t tell you how many such knights I found!” Bendu replied gruffly. “Eviellan is full of knights, and most wear black armour and nearly all of them have red shields. Whenever I met such a knight, I called him to account for Edwinem’s death – but they all denied knowing anything about it. I fought twelve duels but, unless I am very much mistaken, I did not defeat the man I was looking for.”

  “They must have been very pleased to see you in Eviellan,” said Sir Arturin in a slightly sarcastic tone.

  “They were certainly happy to see the back of me,” said Bendu. “But that will not hinder me in my search for that dishonourable knight! I am here now because it is what Ristridin and I agreed, and I hope he will soon accompany me to the south. Two men will have more chance than one of finding that murderer.”

  “You will never succeed,” said Arturin. “The King of Eviellan will expel you from his land as an undesirable outsider. That is at least what I would do were I in his place. Why do you personally feel the need to avenge Edwinem’s death? That is surely the responsibility of the men from the west. Edwinem was a knight of Unauwen, was he not? So let King Unauwen punish his murderer!”

  “Sir, I do not like your words!” growled Bendu. “Edwinem of Forèstèrra was my friend. It does not matter to me that he came from a different country! Ristridin, Arwaut, Evan and I have sworn to avenge his death, and I certainly intend to keep my word.”

  “As you wish,” said Arturin, shrugging his shoulders. “But perhaps you are the only one who has not yet forgotten that oath – or rather, who has not realized its futility. The four of you went your separate ways months ago, as there were more important things to do. I suspect you will have to continue
your quest for revenge on your own. Ristridin and Arwaut are not here, and Evan has not yet arrived either.”

  “A man who forgets his oath loses his honour,” said Bendu.

  Tiuri and Piak looked at each other. It seemed as if the two knights were about to start arguing. However, Arturin put an end to the discussion by inviting his guests to sit by the fire and drink a glass of wine with him.

  Soon it was time to dine. Many of the castle residents came to join them, and Tiuri and Piak were introduced to Arturin’s wife and to their young son, who shared his father’s name. Sir Bendu did not say another word. He was generally taciturn and never particularly jovial, but now he really seemed to be brooding over something. Perhaps that was why Tiuri found the atmosphere in the room so gloomy. Piak was also sitting too far away. As a knight, Tiuri had been seated close to the lord of the castle, while his friend was with the other squires and servants. Tiuri wasn’t pleased about the seating arrangements, but it was a custom that knights rarely abandoned.

  Towards the end of the meal, Bendu seemed to muster his energies. He started talking about the Wild Wood again and wondered why they had heard nothing from his nephew Arwaut.

  “I think he must have gone with Ristridin,” said Arturin. He said he had received just one letter from his brother, dated on the eleventh day of the wine month, October, of the previous year. The message had been brief (“Ristridin has never been much of a writer,” Arturin explained). Ristridin had written to tell him that the knights had found a robbers’ hideout somewhere between the Green River and the Black River. “They were living in some old ruins,” Arturin told them. “Ristridin and his men fought them and overpowered them. Then the robbers were sent as prisoners to King Dagonaut, along with a message that Ristridin, Arwaut and their companions were all fine. The letter to me was a copy of that dispatch. It also said the knights were planning to head deeper into the forest, to the west, to look for the Men in Green.”

  “The Men in Green?” asked Tiuri. “Who are they?”

  “The Men in Green,” replied Bendu, “live between the Green River and the Green Hills. That’s what the woodcutters and hunters say, and I once heard it from a monk, too. Some people say they’re very tall and beautiful, while others claim they’re squat little monsters, like gnomes. That’s why I don’t believe they exist. As far as I know, a person is either big or small, not both at the same time.”

  “Perhaps they’re not people,” said Arturin. “Who knows what might be living out there in those wildernesses where no godly man has ever set foot?”

  Bendu looked sceptical. “Whatever the case, there is no way Ristridin met them,” he said. “Otherwise he would certainly have let us know! In fact, nothing of any import could have happened… as is evident from the fact that we have received no word from him.”

  He looked at Arturin as if waiting for him to agree.

  However, the lord of the castle remained silent and frowned down at his plate. “Well,” he said finally, “there is nothing we can do but wait for him to return, as he promised he would.”

  “Let us hope he does not take too long about it,” muttered Bendu.

  Tiuri looked at Arturin, then Bendu, and thought: Yes, let’s hope he gets here soon. The mood is not going to improve until Sir Ristridin comes home.

  3 KNIGHTS OF KING UNAUWEN

  A few more days went by, but still Ristridin did not return.

  Sir Arturin did his best to make the wait as pleasant as possible for his guests, taking them out for rides and keeping them occupied with games and conversation. But no matter how cheerful he pretended to be, the mood of anxious anticipation persisted.

  One afternoon, it seemed as if winter had come again. There was rain and hail, and the wind howled around the castle. In the great hall, though, the fire blazed merrily in the hearth. The lady of the castle and her maids sat spinning at one side of the fireplace. Piak stood in front of the fire, playing with Arturin’s son and a couple of dogs. Tiuri and Sir Arturin were seated on the other side of the fireplace with a chessboard between them. Bendu, though, could not settle. He kept pacing up and down, then stopping by the spinning wheels to talk, or looking at the chess game, or crouching down beside the dogs.

  Then the sound of a horn made them all look up.

  “Visitors!” said Sir Arturin, as he moved one of his bishops.

  “I’ll go and see who it is,” said Bendu, and he strode from the room.

  Sir Ristridin? thought Tiuri, looking down at the chessboard without noticing that he could take Arturin’s bishop.

  None of them could concentrate on what they had been doing. Apologizing, Arturin stood up and followed Bendu. His wife told her maids to make sure the guest rooms were ready.

  “Shall we go and take a look?” said Piak, jumping to his feet.

  “Me too! Me too!” said little Arturin.

  With the boy between them, the two friends headed into the corridor outside the great hall. The large arched windows had a good view over the courtyard. They stood together, looking out, and Piak lifted young Arturin onto his shoulders.

  “I can see them!” the boy cried.

  Yes, there they came. It was a whole procession, men on horseback… knights. The rain made everything a little hazy, but the knights’ shields were clear enough. White shields!

  “King Unauwen’s knights!” cried Piak. “I can see two of them. And soldiers, too.”

  Servants hurried to help the guests dismount and to take care of their horses.

  “There’s Father!” called the little boy. “And Sir Bendu. Are the knights coming to see us?”

  “Yes, I think they must be,” said Piak, lowering Arturin back down to the ground. “They’ll be here any moment.”

  Just minutes later, the two knights entered the great hall, accompanied by their squires and Arturin and Bendu. The younger of the two knights gave Tiuri a friendly nod.

  It was Evan!

  Sir Arturin introduced the guests. “Sir Evan,” he said, “and Sir Idian.”

  Tiuri did not know Sir Idian, and he was rather puzzled that this knight had kept his helmet on so that his face could not be seen. He was tall, however, and had a proud bearing. There was something captivating about his voice, too, even though he spoke no more than a greeting.

  “This is Marvin, Evan’s squire,” Arturin continued, “and this is…”

  “Currently the squire of Sir Idian,” the man said, interrupting Arturin. “But usually… court jester to King Unauwen.” He threw back the hood of his travelling cloak, spraying droplets of water all around, and gave an elegant bow.

  “Tirillo!” exclaimed Tiuri.

  “Tirillo!” cried Piak.

  “Indeed. Tirillo arrives as a traveller in the rain,” said the merry jester.

  “And as a victor in the battle,” said Evan.

  “So there really has been a battle?” asked Arturin.

  “We fought at the Southerly Mountains,” replied Sir Idian.

  “And defeated the armies of Eviellan,” added Evan.

  “We only held them off,” the jester corrected him. “Now they’re resting and licking their wounds. Soon they’ll be on the march again. If you stand on top of the mountains and look into Eviellan, you’ll see nothing but soldiers and army camps. This was merely a skirmish, my dear Evan.”

  “What sombre words,” said Arturin. “I thought jesters were meant to make people happy.”

  “Jesters merely confront people with the truth,” said Tirillo, “and usually it sounds so improbable that they can’t help but laugh. We try to remain in good spirits in spite of threats from sinister quarters, rather than closing our eyes to danger.”

  “Have you been guarding your borders closely?” asked Sir Idian.

  “As always,” replied Arturin. “Although recently there has been no sign of Eviellan.”

  “That proves what fools they are in Eviellan,” said Tirillo. “There are no mountains here. They have only to cross a river. No, they ca
nnot possibly be so stupid. And for that reason I believe the opposite must be true: the enemy in the south is crafty and cunning. Be wary, Sir Arturin, Lord of Castle Ristridin by the Grey River!”

  “My thanks for your wise counsel,” said Arturin, a little abruptly. Then he asked his guests if they would like to put on dry clothes. They were keen to do so, and the party left the room, accompanied by Arturin and his wife.

  But Evan looked back for a moment at Tiuri and said, “I’m glad you’re here. Later we will have much to tell each other.”

  The candles had been lit in the great hall. Only Tiuri, Piak and Bendu were sitting there now, waiting for the others to arrive.

  “So now Evan’s here,” said Bendu. “And I hope Ristridin and Arwaut will come soon. Then we’ll all be together again.”

  Tiuri sat beside the chessboard, staring blankly at the pieces. “Sir Evan made it in good time,” he said. “Do you know Sir Idian?”

  “No, I’ve never met him before,” replied Bendu. “I don’t recognize his name either. But he must be a powerful lord; you should have seen how respectfully his men addressed him. The jester is a friend of yours, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, I met him last year in the Kingdom of Unauwen,” said Tiuri.

  “He’s really nice,” said Piak.

  “Nice? Then I am not a good jester,” said Tirillo, as he entered the room, followed by Sir Arturin. “Jesters should be nuisances. We are supposed to taunt and provoke people.”

  He sat down opposite Tiuri and asked, “Whose move is it?”

  “Mine,” replied Tiuri. “Yes, it’s white’s turn.”

  “Then play!” commanded Tirillo.