The Brothers Lionheart

by Astrid Lindgren

  Orvar put on the helmet and cloak, but he didn’t like them. “This is the first and last time I’ll ever put on such clothes,” he said. “They reek of oppression and cruelty.”

  “Never mind what they reek of,” said Jonathan, “as long as they help get you home to Wild Rose Valley.”

  The time had come now to leave. In an hour or two the sun would set and then it would be so dark in the mountains that no one would be able to find his way along those dangerous paths.

  Jonathan looked very serious. He knew what we had to face and I heard him saying to Orvar:

  “The next two hours will decide the fate of Wild Rose Valley, I think. Can you manage to ride for that long?”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” said Orvar. “For ten hours if you like.”

  He was to ride Fyalar. Jonathan helped him to mounts, and at once he was quite a different Orvar, as if he were growing in the saddle and becoming strong. Yes, Orvar was one of those brave, strong people just like Jonathan. I was the only one who wasn’t at all brave. But when we’d mounted and I was sitting there with my arms around Jonathan’s waist and my forehead leaning against his back, it was as if a little of his strength came through to me and I was less afraid. And yet I couldn’t help thinking how wonderful it’d be if we didn’t always have to be strong and brave like this. If only we could be together again like during those first few days in Cherry Valley. Oh, how long ago it seemed now.

  Then we set out on our journey. We rode towards the sunset, for the bridge was in that direction. The paths were many and confusing in the mountains of Karmanyaka and no one but Jonathan could have found the right way in such a maze, but he managed in some strange way, fortunately for us.

  I watched out for Tengilmen until my eyes ached, but none appeared, only Orvar riding behind us in his horrible helmet and black cloak. I felt a stab of fear ever time I happened to turn my head and see him, so frightened I had become of those helmets and everyone who wore them.

  We rode and rode and nothing happened. It was so calm and peaceful and beautiful all the way. A still evening in the mountains, you could call it, I thought. If only it hadn’t been so untrue. Anything might appear in all that stillness and peacefulness, and all we felt was a kind of horrible excitement; even Jonathan was anxious and on his guard every moment.

  “As long as we get to the bridge,” he said, “then the worst will be over.”

  “How soon can we get there?” I asked.

  “Within half an hour, if all goes well,” said Jonathan.

  But that was when we saw them, a troop of Tengilmen, six men with spears, on black horses, appearing where the path curved around a mountain wall and trotting straight toward us.

  “Now our lives are at stake,” said Jonathan. “Move up, Orvar!”

  Orvar rode quickly up beside us, and Jonathan flung his reins over to him, so that we should look a little more like prisoners.

  They hadn’t seen us yet, but it was too late to escape. There was nowhere to escape to, either. All we could do was to keep riding, hoping that Orvar’s cloak and helmet would deceive them.

  “I’ll never give myself up alive,” said Orvar. “I want you to know that, Lionheart.”

  As calmly as we could, we rode toward our enemies, getting nearer and nearer. Prickles were running down my spine, and I had time to think that if we were caught now, we might just as well have stayed in Katla Cavern and avoided the torment of a long night to no avail.

  Then we met. They reined in their horses in order to pass us on the narrow path, and I saw that the leading rider was an old acquaintance, none other than Park.

  But Park didn’t look at us. he was looking at Orvar, and just as they passed each other, he said:

  “Have you heard if they’ve found him yet?”

  “No, I’ve heard nothing,” said Orvar.

  “Where are you going?” said Park.

  “I’ve got a couple of prisoners,” said Orvar. Park was given no more information and we rode on as fast as we dared.

  “Turn around carefully, Rusky, and see what they’re doing,” said Jonathan, and I did as I was asked.

  “They’re riding away,” I said.

  “Thank goodness,” said Jonathan.

  But he had spoken too soon, for now I saw that they had stopped and were all looking back at us.

  “They’ve begun to think,” said Jonathan.

  That was clearly what had happened.

  “Stop a moment!” shouted Park. “Here, I want to take a closer look at you and your prisoners.”

  Orvar clenched his teeth.

  “Ride on, Jonathan,” he said. “Otherwise we’re head men.”

  And we rode on.

  Then Park and the whole troop turned around; yes, they turned and came after us so fast that the manes of their horses were fluttering.

  “Now, Grim, show them what you can do,” said Jonathan.

  And you too, my Fyalar, I thought, wishing that I myself was riding him.

  No one had better steeds than Grim and Fyalar, who now flew along the path, knowing that it was a matter of life or death. Our pursuers were behind us; we heard their clattering hoofs, sometimes closer, sometimes farther away, but insistent; they did not go away, for now Park knew whom he was chasing, and no Tengilman could allow such a prey to get away. That would be a great prize to take back to Tengil in his castle.

  With them at our heels we galloped over the bridge, and two spears came whistling after us, but they did not reach us.

  Now we were over on the Nangiyala side, and the worst should be over, Jonathan had said, but I couldn’t see that that was so. The hunt was continued along the river. High up on the bank the bridle path leading into Wild Rose Valley twisted and turned, and we raced along it. This was the way we had come on another summer evening, which now seemed a thousand years ago, when we had come riding along at dusk, Jonathan and I, slowly riding on our way to our first campfire. That was how you should travel along rivers, not the way we were now, racing so that the horses almost fell.

  Orvar rode the most wildly because he was riding home to Wild Rose Valley. Jonathan couldn’t keep up with him, and Park was catching up on us; I couldn’t think why until I realized it was because of me. There was no swifter ride than Jonathan, and no one would ever have been able to catch up with him if he had been along on the horse, but now h had to think of me all the time and that hindered him.

  This ride was to decide the fate of Wild Rose Valley, Jonathan had said. And I would be the one to decide how it would end. It would end badly; I became more and more sure of that. Every time I turned around to look, those black helmets were a little nearer, sometimes hidden behind a hillock or some trees, but then inexorably there again, nearer and nearer.

  Jonathan knew as well as I did that we could not save ourselves now, not both of us, and it was necessary that Jonathan got away. I couldn’t let him be captured because of me. So I said:

  “Jonathan, do as I say now. Throw me off around a corner where they can’t see. And catch up with Orvar!”

  I saw that he was astounded at first, but not nearly as astonished as I was.

  “Would you really dare?” said Jonathan.

  “No, but I want to all the same,” I said.

  “Brave little Rusky,” he said. “I’ll come back and fetch you. As soon as I’ve left Orvar safe with Mathias, I’ll come back.”

  “Promise?” I said.

  “Yes, what do you think?” he said.

  We had reached the willow tree where we had bathed, and I said:

  “I’ll hide in our tree. Fetch me from there.”

  I didn’t have any time to say more, for now we were hidden behind a hillock, and Jonathan reined in his horse so that I could slide down. Then he set off again and I rolled quickly aside into a hollow. I lay there listening to the soldiers thundering past. I saw Park’s stupid face for one brief moment. H was snarling as if ready to bite—and Jonathan had saved the man’s life!

  But Jonath
an had already caught up with Orvar. I saw them disappearing together and I was pleased. Ride on, old Park, I thought, if you think that helps. You’ll see no more of Jonathan and Orvar.

  I stayed in the hollow until Park and his men were also out of sight, then scrambled down to the river and my tree. It was good to crawl into the green center of the tree and settle into a forked branch, because I was tired now.

  There was a little rowing boat bumping against the bank just by the tree. It must have torn itself loose from its moorings higher up the river, for it was not tied up. Whoever had lost it would be sad now, I thought, as I sat there looking around and wondering about this and that. I looked at the rushing water and Park’s rock and thought that’s where he should be sitting, that cowardly Park. And I saw Katla Mountain on the other side of the river and wondered how anybody could imprison other people in its terrible caves. I thought about Orvar and Jonathan and wished until it ached that the would escape into our underground passage before Park caught up with them. I wondered, too, what Mathias would say when he found Orvar in his hideout. How glad he would be. All that, I sat and thought about.

  But dusk began to fall, and then I realized that I would perhaps have to spend the whole night there. Jonathan wouldn’t have time to get back before dark. It was creepy, and anxiety began to crawl over me as dusk fell; I felt very lonely.

  Then suddenly I saw a woman riding along high up on the riverbank, and it was none other than Sofia, yes indeed, Sofia, and never had I been so pleased to see her as at that moment.

  “Sofia!” I cried. “Sofia, here I am!”

  I crawled out of the tree and waved arms, but it was a long time before I could make her understand that it really was me.

  “But, Karl,” she called, “how did you get here? And where is Jonathan? Wait a minute, while we come down to you. We must water the horses, anyway.”

  Then I saw two men behind her, also mounted. I recognized one first—Hubert. The other man was hidden, but then he rode up and I saw him. it was Jossi.

  But it couldn’t be Jossi—I thought perhaps I had gone mad and was seeing things. Sofia couldn’t have come here with Jossi! What had gone wrong? Was Sofia mad too, or had I just dreamt that Jossi was a traitor? No, no, I hadn’t dreamt it; he was a traitor! I wasn’t seeing things, here he was, and what would happen now?

  He came riding down toward the rover in the half-light and he called from a distance:

  “Well, look who’s here, little Karl Lionheart. fancy meeting you again!”

  All three of them came down, and I stood still waiting for them with only one thought in my head. Help, what will happen now?

  They jumped down from their horses, and Sofia came running up to me and flung her arms around me, so glad that her eyes were shining.

  “Are you out hunting wolves again?” said Hubert, laughing.

  But I stood there without speaking, just staring.

  “Where are you going?” I managed to get out at last.

  “Jossi is going to show us where we can best get through the wall,” said Sofia. “We must know to be ready when the battle actually starts.”

  “Yes, we must,” said Jossi. “We must have a plan ready before we attack.

  I was boiling inside. No doubt you’ve got your plan ready, I thought. I knew why he had come. He was going to lure Sofia and Hubert into a trap; straight to destruction, he would lure them, if no one stopped him. And then I understood: I am the one who must stop him, and it couldn’t wait. It had to happen now. However much I disliked the idea, it had to happen now. But how should I begin?

  “How’s Bianca, Sofia?” I said at last.

  Sofia looked sad.

  “Bianca never came back from Wild Rose Valley,” she said. “But do you know anything about Jonathan?”

  She didn’t want to talk about Bianca, but I had heard what I wanted to know; Bianca was dead. That was why Sofia had come here with Jossi. She had never received our message.

  Jossi wanted to know, too, whether I knew anything about Jonathan.

  “Surely he hasn’t been captured?” he said.

  “No, he hasn’t,” I said, and I looked straight into Jossi’s eyes. “He’s just rescued Orvar from Katla Cavern.”

  Jossi’s red face turned pale and he fell silent. But Sofia and Hubert were delighted, so delighted that Sofia hugged me again and Hubert said:

  “That’s the best news you could have given us.”

  They wanted to know how it had all been done, but Jossi didn’t, for now he was in a hurry.

  “We can hear all about that later,” he said. “We must go to where we’re heading for now, before dark.”

  Yes, because Tengil’s soldiers will no doubt be lying in wait, I thought.

  “Come, Karl,” said Sofia. “We can ride together on my horse, you and me.”

  “No,” I said. “You mustn’t ride anywhere with that traitor!”

  I pointed at Jossi and I thought he would kill me. He grabbed hold of my neck with his great hands and snarled:

  “What did you say? One more word and I’ll finish you.”

  Sofia made him let me go, but she wasn’t pleased with me.

  “Karl, it’s dreadful to call a person a traitor when it isn’t true. But you’re too young to know what you’ve just said.”

  Hubert just laughed quietly.

  “I thought I was the traitor. I, who know so much and like white horses, or whatever it was you wrote on the kitchen wall at home.”

  “Yes, Karl, you hurl your accusations in all directions,” said Sofia sternly. “You must stop doing that.”

  “I’m sorry, Hubert,” I said.

  “Well, what about Jossi?” said Sofia.

  “I won’t say I’m sorry for calling a traitor a traitor,” I said.

  But I couldn’t get them to believe me. It was dreadful when I realized that. They wanted to go on with Jossi. They were bringing their own misfortune on themselves, whatever I tried to do to stop them.

  “He’s leading you into a trap!” I cried. “I know he is. I know! Ask him about Veder and Kader, whom he meets up in the mountains. And ask him how he betrayed Orvar!”

  Jossi looked as if he wanted to rush at me again, but he controlled himself.

  “Can’t we get going now,” he said, “or are we to risky everything because of this boy’s lies?”

  He gave me a look full of hatred.

  “And I liked you once,” he said.

  “I once liked you, too,” I said.

  I could see how scared he was beneath his rage. He really was in a hurry now, because he had to have Sofia captured and imprisoned before the truth dawned on her, otherwise his own life would be in question.

  What a relief it must have been to him that Sofia didn’t want to know the truth. She trusted Jossi and had always done so. And I, who had accused first one person and then another, how could she believe me?

  “Come on now, Karl,” she said. “I’ll sort all this out with you later.”

  “There’ll be no ‘later’ if you go with Jossi,” I said.

  I wept then. Nangiyala could not afford to lose Sofia, and here I was unable to save her, because she didn’t want to be saved.

  “Come on, Karl,” she repeated obstinately.

  But then I remembered something.

  “Jossi,” I said. “Open your shirt and show them what you’ve got on your chest.”

  Jossi turned so deathly pale that even Sofia and Hubert noticed it, and he put his hand on his chest as if wishing to protect something.

  There was a brief silence, but then Hubert said in a harsh voice:

  “Jossi, do as the boy says,”

  “We must hurry,” he said, moving toward his horse.

  Sofia’s eyes hardened.

  “Not so much hurry,” she said. “I’m your leader, Jossi. Show me your chest.”

  It was terrible to see Jossi then, standing there panting, paralyzed and afraid, not knowing whether to flee or stay. Sofia went up t
o him, but he thrust her aside with his elbow. He shouldn’t have done that. She caught hold of him and tore open his shirt.

  And there on his chest was the Katla mark: a dragon’s head, glistening like blood.

  Sofia turned even paler than Jossi.

  “Traitor!” she said. “Curses on your head for what you have done to Nangiyala’s valleys.”

  At last Jossi sprang into life. He swore and rushed over toward his hors, but Hubert was there before him. So he turned and looked around wildly for another escape route and caught site of the rowing boat. With one single leap, he was into it and before Sofia or Hubert could even get to the bank, the current had carried him out of their reach.

  Then he laughed, and it was a horrible laugh.

  “I’ll punish you, Sofia!” he cried. “When I come as chieftain of Cherry Valley, then I’ll punish you.”

  You poor fool, you’ll never get to Cherry Valley, I thought. You’ll get to Karma Falls and nowhere else.

  He tried to row, but raging waves and whirlpools caught the boat and tossed it between them, trying to crush it, tearing the oars from his hands, and then a hissing wave came and tipped him into the water. I wept then, wanting to save him, even though he was a traitor, but I knew there was no means of saving Jossi. It was so terrible and sad to stand there in the dusk, watching and knowing that Jossi was quite along and helpless out there in the swirling waters. We saw him come up once on the crest of a wave, then he sank again and we saw no more of him.

  It was almost dark now as the river of The Ancient Rivers took Jossi and carried him off to Karma Falls.

  Chapter 15

  The day of the battle, the day everyone had been waiting for, came at last. There was a storm over Wild Rose Valley that day, so that trees were bent over and broken. But it wasn’t that kind of storm Orvar had meant when he had said:

  “The storm of liberation will come, and it will break the oppressors, as when a tree breaks and falls. It will go forward with a roar, sweeping away our slavery and finally freeing us again!”

  He had spoken like that in Mathias’s kitchen, to which people had come in secret to hear him and see him; yes, they wanted to see him and Jonathan.