The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black

by Eden Unger Bowditch

  “It was a gift to the village of Solemano,” said the baker, smiling.

  Faye considered this. The village of Solemano made a home for the books of the ancient scholar king. And along with them came the big black birds and the strange black men. She shuffled forward, toward the baker. “So do the men in black keep books, too? In their rooms, perhaps?”

  “In their rooms?” the baker asked.

  “Where are their rooms anyway?” Faye asked, trying to sound uninterested. “Do they live in the village?” She gestured to show she meant in the village proper, not outside near the fields.

  “I fratelli in nero live in the big farmhouse at the edge of the vineyards,” said Signora Fornaio, “and some have their rooms in the houses at the gates.”

  “The stone houses at the entrance to the village?” asked Faye.

  “Si, bella. Why do you ask?” The baker, smiling, picked up the icing sugar to sprinkle on the fragrant brioche while they were still warm from the oven.

  “Just wondering,” Faye said, her voice slightly higher-pitched than usual.

  “There is no way we just can hunt through the farmhouses,” said Faye as they hurried down the main road through Solemano. “They can probably see down to the vineyards from the olive grove, anyway, and the house is right there at the edge of the fields. We can’t risk it.”

  “Well, perhaps someone can look elsewhere,” said Wallace.

  “We’ll go to the houses at the gate to the village.” Faye was clear about this.

  Lucy ran to keep up with the others. In fact, Noah and Wallace were struggling to keep up with Faye’s long legs and Jasper’s fast gait.

  “Are there two houses?” Wallace asked, trying to catch his breath.

  Faye kept her eyes on the houses along the wall of the town. She came to the arched gate.

  “Yes, of course. Don’t you remember seeing them when we arrived? I saw them.” She pointed to the two houses on either side of the arch, the ones Jasper had noticed that first day.

  “Are we sure anyone lives in them?” asked Jasper. The one on the left looked like it was missing some of its roof.

  “Of course I’m sure,” said Faye. “Guarding is what they do, and these are guard houses.”

  “Well, that’s good to know,” said Noah. “They have houses on either side of the entrance. That makes me feel safer.”

  “Really?” asked Faye, one eyebrow raised. “I’d say it’s not too safe right now, with no one home. Better for us, though.” Not waiting for a reply from Noah, she went right up to the front door. It was not locked.

  Jasper was hesitant. “Faye, I’m not sure we should just rummage through their—”

  “Their what? They don’t care about taking our things.” Faye was more pleading than angry. “They don’t care about stealing our possessions if it suits them, and I just want to see if they can offer us any clues. I don’t want to steal anything. Unless we find something of ours—and then it’s not stealing.”

  “I suppose they don’t usually worry about people stealing from them,” said Jasper, relenting. “Everyone in the village knows them and wouldn’t steal.”

  Faye pushed the door open. But the room was empty—no furniture, nothing at all.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone lives here,” said Wallace, relieved. Being there made him anxious.

  “And it doesn’t look like there’s anything here to steal,” said Noah, looking in the room. “You’re out of luck, Lady Faye.”

  “What?” came a thundering voice from above.

  There, at the top of the stone steps leading up to the top of the wall, stood the man in the Robin Hood hat,

  “What?” he asked again.

  “What?” gulped Faye. “We were just walking in town, and—” But Robin Hood turned away, facing out over the wall.

  “Well, clearly, they don’t keep the place unguarded,” Noah whispered loudly

  The children casually walked back out.

  “Let’s try the other one,” said Faye, heading to the other stone house,

  Noah rolled his eyes and followed.

  “Hello?” called Faye in a quiet voice as she stood by the door. If someone was asleep or busy, the children might still have a chance to search without waking them. But if someone was there and awake, she didn’t want to appear to be breaking in. No one answered, so they silently entered the second house,

  The room was fairly bare, though not empty. There were no elegant carpets or drapes or chairs or tables. The room was furnished with seven beds. Each bed had a small wooden table beside it, little more than a box, and a candleholder with a single candle. There was a small gray rug at the side of each bed. A basket of bread and a flask sat by the door.

  On the tall walls, there were two paintings and several old tapestries. On one wall, there was a large flag, like the black and white one on the ship. But this flag looked very old, its edges frayed and worn.

  The paintings, too, seemed very old. One was of a man with a crown of olive leaves, long blond hair, and a fur-trimmed robe. On one arm sat a raven, and next to his chair were books, piled high atop a table. In the raven’s mouth, there was a coin. At the bottom of the painting was writing too faded with time to read. But they could read “MCDLXXVII,” written in fancy script. The children knew this meant 1477.

  The other painting was of a man in a giant turban. He, too, was fair-haired. Unlike the other man, who was clean-shaven, this man had a reddish moustache and trim beard. There was an olive tree in the background, and seven ravens sat upon the branches, each with a book in its mouth. They stood very stiff and tall, unlike the other bird in the other painting, who seemed almost alive. At the bottom of the canvas was something written in beautiful script in another alphabet. It, too had a date: “MDXXXII,” or 1532.

  “Who are they?” asked Lucy.

  Wallace walked over to the painting of the man with the raven. “That must be the Raven King,” he said. “It says ‘Matthias Corvinus Rex’ on the frame. ‘Rex’ meaning king, of course.” Wallace moved closer and stared up. He took his coin from his pocket.

  “What are you doing, Wallace?” Faye groaned. “We don’t have much time.”

  “It’s my coin,” he said. “Or like my coin. Look.” He pointed to the coin that, in the painting, was in the mouth of the raven.

  “Why would that be your coin?” asked Faye, doubtful. “What would this raven have to do with your lucky coin?” But she couldn’t deny that, from what they could see of the coin, it was very like Wallace’s, if not exactly the same.

  Wallace looked down at his coin. Faye did, too.

  “I don’t understand.” Wallace turned the coin in his hand.

  “And the birdies—the black birdies are in the paintings, too,” Lucy said, pointing to the bird with the coin in its mouth. “Everyone in the painting has the same dresses, but in his own way, and no bonnets.”

  “What?” Noah looked at Lucy.

  Faye, however, looked up from the coin with a new understanding, “You know, Lucy, I think you’re right. Those birds of yours seem to be guardians—very familiar guardians.”

  “They are!” cried Lucy, who then giggled. “They are! They’re the men in black, only smaller and with wings.”

  “Exactly,” said Faye. “I think there is a connection between the mysterious men in black and the birds. It’s as if the birds are an artist’s impression of the men, or something like that.”

  “What about Wallace’s coin?” asked Jasper, who had been considering all of this in quiet confusion,

  “The coin is a key to something,” Faye said. “And it must have been for ages and ages, too. This painting wasn’t done yesterday.”

  “Well, we can’t wait until tomorrow,” said Noah. “Let’s get on with it and get out of here.”

  They all got to searching. They looked under beds and behind the tapestries. The tapestries had interesting images of monks in gardens and farms. There were animals and scenes from country life. Some of
the colors, mostly reds and oranges, were a bit faded, but the pictures were sharp, intricately sewn, and beautiful. But there seemed to be no personal items—nothing to reveal anything about the men living there,

  “Look here!” called Noah. He had found a doorway hidden behind a tapestry.

  He slipped through it and the others quickly followed,

  “Wait, it’s dark!” cried Lucy.

  “She’s right.” Wallace tried to straighten his glasses in the dark—someone’s elbow had knocked them askew.

  But before anyone else could complain, they came to another tapestry and walked out into light. They were in a small room that had high windows catching the fullness of the sun. There were hooks, upon which hung, in three neat rows, twenty-one black cloaks. There was a small table with a lamp upon it. Faye walked over and pulled open the drawer. In it were several large, ancient keys. There was a box as well—a small wooden box. Faye opened it, but it was empty

  “Maybe it held another key,” said Wallace.

  “Maybe it was the key to everything,” Noah said.

  “You think it was?” asked Lucy, her eyes wide with wonder.

  “No,” said Jasper. “He’s only teasing, Lucy. We’ve come to the men in black’s dressing room. That’s all.”

  “Their mysterious dressing room?” Noah asked.

  “Very well. Their mysterious dressing room.” Jasper shook his head.

  “Well, there must be something here,” said Faye, looking through pockets and feeling inside sleeves.

  “There is,” Jasper said. “Their flags, their farm, and their robes—look at this place.” Jasper gestured around the room. “And the ceremony on the ship. These men are in some kind of order.”

  “A mysterious order?” said Noah.

  “They are part of some mysterious order,” Jasper said.

  “But what order?” asked Wallace, feeling his coin in his pocket. “What does it mean—this place, and the ravens, and my coin?”

  “Do you think we might find some explanation in our books?” said Jasper. “We certainly have an excellent library. Signora Fornaio said it came from the Raven King. Will there be answers among those pages?”

  “That,” said Faye, “is something we are going to find out.”

  After poring through volumes in the library, they could find many poems and references to the Raven King, but nothing helpful. They found one massive reference volume that had a painting of the Raven King on the cover. It was faded and scratched, but they thought there was a coin in his hand, though Lucy insisted it was a lemon sherbet. It didn’t matter, though, since the book was in Old Hungarian, which no one—not even Lucy—could understand at all. Deciding the library was not going to help right then, they put the books back where they found them,

  Back in the sitting room, Faye and Jasper discussed whether to be honest with Miss Brett,

  “Do we tell her or not?” Noah whispered to Jasper and Faye as they headed over to the hearth. Miss Brett was sitting and having her tea, reading and looking out the window, enjoying the scent of the jasmine growing in the pots on the table sitting in the sunlight.

  “I say we tell her,” Jasper said firmly. He did not want to lie, nor did he see a reason to do so. He was glad when Faye nodded.

  Miss Brett’s reaction had been much as they expected. “Goodness,” she said, and then was silent. What was she supposed to think? “Well, I’d have to say that it was not smart to go snooping around someone else’s things. Would you like someone doing that to you?”

  “No,” said Faye, “but those men don’t seem to be bothered by rummaging through our things. Or bothered about stealing from us—like the notes from our journal. Or shuttling us around. I would have felt bad, only they do it to us all the time.”

  Miss Brett sighed. It was true. The mysterious men in black did rule their lives, move them around, and take what they pleased from the children and from her. She had not forgotten her lost diary. Miss Brett softened her stance. “Very well. Did you find anything?” she said. “Did you learn something important?”

  Faye told Miss Brett about the painting with the raven eating Wallace’s coin.

  Miss Brett sat and listened. When they finished telling her, she was silent, thinking deeply about all of this. In the silence, Noah, Faye, and Jasper exchanged looks of concern. Was she upset with them? Was she worried? Miss Brett seemed to be miles away. Then she turned to Jasper, Faye, and Noah and asked for them to go and sit with Wallace and Lucy, who had been warming by the fire. She needed time to think.

  She breathed in deeply, looking over at the delicate jasmine growing safely inside when the cold outside would freeze the life out of the flowers. Safety, for them, was not so simple.

  Who were these men? If they were some brotherhood, some order, did someone send them to watch over the children? She looked out at the village below. Solemano and Sole Manner Farm were both places of refuge, but who had been the one to decide where they would be taken? Clearly, something very ancient was at work. Something was happening that had its roots back in time. But when? And why? Miss Brett shook her head. These were not answers she could give, or even questions she could ask, because there was no one there to respond.

  Looking beyond the fragrant flowers, she could see the clouds. The day’s weather had become increasingly nippy. In fact, it was more than nippy. It was cold. She looked at the orchard. Those mysterious men in black were lucky they had harvested the olives when they did.

  She quietly wished the children had harvested more information.

  And she wished she could give them something to ease their minds—or at least something to distract them.

  “Come, wake up!” shouted Lucy, running from room to room.

  “I’m coming, Lucy!” cried Miss Brett. She sat up in bed, throwing off her covers. She practically stepped into her slippers as she ran from her room,

  “Lucy!” cried Jasper, running down the hall. But Lucy was no longer there.

  “Where is she?” called Faye, rushing out without a dressing gown.

  Wallace and Noah sleepily emerged from their rooms,

  “What is it, Lucy?” Miss Brett, now wide awake, feared danger. Was it an intruder? Could it be the horrid Komar Romak? She ran toward the little girl’s voice.

  “Look!” shouted Lucy from within the curtains of the wide window in the sitting room, her voice muffled by all that fabric,

  Nearly stumbling down the stairs, Jasper hurried, followed by Miss Brett and the others,

  He grabbed the edges with Noah and they pulled back the great curtains. Lucy squealed and grabbed Jasper’s hand. Jaws dropped.

  “Goodness!” cried Noah, with a gasp.

  Wallace, too, gasped, and Faye stood silent, unable to speak.

  This was not a fearful response to terror. It was a response to the incredible magic they saw before them. The whole of Solemano, which just the night before had been brown from the cold and the dead fallen leaves, was covered in a blanket of white.

  “It means Christmas will be coming any day now!” Lucy twirled with pleasure.

  “Christmas would be coming whether it snowed or not, Lucy,” Noah said, looking over to Faye, sure she would agree, as she was never in the mood for nonsense.

  But Faye did not. She stood there as if in a trance, staring out into the deep whiteness.

  “Faye?” Noah reached out to touch her arm but changed his mind. He shrugged and scratched his head, looking at Jasper. Then Noah began to mimic Lucy, jumping up and down and clapping his hands together.

  But Jasper knew. He knew that, at that moment, Faye was feeling inside exactly what Lucy was feeling inside and out. He did touch her arm.

  “It’s the first time you’ve seen snow, isn’t it?” Jasper asked.

  Faye turned to Jasper. Her beautiful green eyes shined against the brightness from the snow outside. She had a smile of pure bliss, and looked, for once, like a little girl—a beautiful little girl.

  “It’s just
. . .” she began, but then she stopped and turned back to look again.

  “Lovely,” Jasper said, looking from Faye to the winter wonderland.

  “But it is lovely,” Lucy said as Noah continued to tease her, “and it means there will be a real Christmas. When it’s lovely and snowy, Father Christmas will be happier and want to come. How will he know where to find us if we don’t leave footprints in the snow to track us?”

  “What?” Noah laughed. “You are the funniest thing, Lucy.”

  “I am not,” insisted Lucy.

  “You did write to Father Christmas to let him know we were here, didn’t you?” Noah asked. Lucy, worried, shook her head, and Noah looked stricken. “You had better do it quick, or he might not know where we’ve gone!”

  Miss Brett put the kettle on, then came into the sitting room from the kitchens to watch the children. She warmed herself by the fire burning in the hearth as Lucy worked on her letter to Father Christmas. Noah was making suggestions.

  “You can ask for a camel. Camels are very traditional.”

  “A baby camel?” Lucy asked, wide-eyed. “Oh, that would be lovely.”

  “Yes, indeed,” said Noah. “And a flock of geese. And an elephant—a white baby elephant, like Faye’s.”

  Jasper, meanwhile, wondered what was happening in this part of the world 350 years ago to explain the men in black whose chambers the children had explored. Three hundred and fifty years ago, Michelangelo had been around, and Leonardo da Vinci. And the Ottoman Empire was nearing its peak. Less than a half century before that, Copernicus had made the sun the center of the solar system. The plague had been in Europe for two hundred years. None of these things seemed directly related to the mysterious men in black. He looked over at Wallace, who was staring at his coin, turning it between his fingers. Clearly, Jasper wasn’t the only one wondering how these pieces fit together

  “Goodness!” Miss Brett looked up from her book—she had found a book of Italian grammar and was determined to learn some Italian—as the smell of cinnamon began to waft into the room. She jumped out of her seat. “I’ve forgotten the kettle!” She ran into the kitchen in hopes the kettle hadn’t burned.