The Secrets of the Wild Wood

by Tonke Dragt

  Tiuri knocked on the door.

  “Are we going inside?” the Fool asked anxiously.

  “Perhaps we can spend the night here,” said Tiuri. “That’s better than outside, don’t you think, Marius?”

  “No… or yes, maybe,” said the Fool.

  Tiuri knocked again.

  “I wonder if anyone will answer,” whispered Piak.

  Just then, they heard wheezing and coughing. The door opened and a man said, “Come on in.”

  “Good evening,” said Tiuri. “May we spend the night here?”

  “This is the Silent Inn,” replied the man, “and yes, you may spend the night here. Not that I have many guests. Times are hard.” He showed them the stable and then led them into the small and shabby tavern.

  “Ah, so it is fair to say that the late evening brings fine folk,” he said, taking a good look at them. “Greetings, sir knight. And to you too, squire and manservant, if I am not mistaken.”

  “Three friends,” said Tiuri.

  The man chuckled and was overcome by a coughing fit.

  “Ah, I’m not long for this world,” he said cheerfully, as soon as he got his breath back. “Would you like something to eat? If I have anything in, that is. I don’t expect guests these days.”

  “If you have something to spare, yes, please,” said Tiuri.

  “I’m hungry,” said the Fool, nodding.

  The innkeeper placed a dented cup and a jug on the table, invited them to sit and left the room, coughing all the while. It turned out that he did have some food, as he soon returned with a bowl of cold barley porridge and a long brown loaf. He filled the cup with beer, sat down with his guests and watched as they ate. He was dishevelled, with his dirty apron and his grey stubble, but seemed friendly enough.

  “Is this Stoneford?” asked Tiuri.

  “Well, you could say that,” came the reply. “Stoneford’s actually on the Black River, and that’s a good half hour’s ride from here. But the Silent Inn is the only inn hereabouts.”

  “Is Stoneford a village?” asked Piak.

  “Ha, a village!” sniffed the innkeeper. “I wouldn’t call one and a half houses a village. You can cross the river there, but it won’t do you much good, because there’s just the Dead Stone on the other bank and, after that, nothing.”

  “The Dead Stone?” repeated Piak.

  “Nothing?” said Tiuri.

  “Well, I say nothing, but what I mean is the Wild Wood,” explained the innkeeper. “But I reckon places you don’t go to don’t really exist.”

  “What is the Dead Stone?” asked Piak.

  “It’s a stone,” said the innkeeper, “on the other side of the Black River. They sometimes call it the Black Stone, too, even though it’s grey, and green in parts from all that slimy moss.” He grimaced. “There’s no one who’ll dare to go there at night,” he continued. “That place is so haunted. Even in the daytime, people avoid it.”

  “Is that true?” asked Piak.

  Tiuri looked rather anxiously at the Fool, who was staring at the innkeeper with big, frightened eyes.

  The innkeeper coughed. “On my oath it’s true,” he replied. “A traveller was once murdered there, and even worse things have happened. But I’d rather not talk about that after sunset.”

  Piak opened his mouth to ask more, but Tiuri silenced him with a look.

  The innkeeper, however, didn’t need any more questions. “Yes, it’s an evil place indeed,” he nodded. “There’s a curse on it. They say that every ill wish spoken at the Dead Stone will come true – but it’s also really dangerous for whoever makes the wish.” He regarded his guests with a look of contentment on his face. He seemed to think his story very ordinary indeed and not in the least bit frightening. “That’s why the road comes to a dead end there,” he added. “I mean the Second Great Road to the west. It was the Dead Stone that killed the road.” He chuckled again, which set off his cough.

  Tiuri looked at the Fool, who was sitting remarkably quietly. Fortunately they’d finished eating and so he asked if they could go to bed.

  The innkeeper took them to a grubby room with a large bed. He said he hoped there were no fleas and then wished them a good night’s sleep.

  His wish did not come true. The three travellers slept badly, because the bed was hard, and every now and then something made them itch.

  “And to think that only yesterday we were lying in those wonderful beds at Islan,” sighed Piak.

  Islan! Once again, Tiuri started thinking through everything that had happened there. Most of all, he thought about Isadoro. He suddenly felt worried about her. Was she unhappy? Did she feel like a prisoner in her father’s castle? He thought she must. As he pondered, he fell asleep and dreamt about rescuing Isadoro from Islan, and racing on Ardanwen across wild landscapes with Isadoro in his arms. As he was about to kiss her, though, he saw that she was not Isadoro, but Lady Lavinia of Castle Mistrinaut. That only filled him with joy and he was just leaning in towards her when a cry awoke him.

  It was the Fool, talking in his sleep. “I can hear them!” he groaned. “They’re coming, on horses. They’re trampling everything underfoot. Help!”

  Tiuri gently shook him. The Fool sighed and mumbled, “I truly don’t know,” and then was silent.

  I don’t know either, thought Tiuri, as he turned over and closed his eyes. But it was no good. All kinds of thoughts were nipping away at him like fleas. He felt so very far from the confident Sir Tiuri who had left his father’s castle in such high spirits.

  The three travellers were glad to leave the inn the next day, although the innkeeper said he was sorry to see them go.

  *

  They soon reached the Black River. The village of Stoneford was indeed small, just a few shabby houses huddled together. It seemed that the villagers did not see many travellers and that they didn’t really want to see them either. When the trio tried to buy bread from a place that appeared to be a shop, the owner looked at them as if they were mad. Then he held up two loaves of bread and demanded an outrageously high price.

  “Isn’t that rather a lot?” said Tiuri in a chilly tone.

  “It’s not too much, sir knight,” said the merchant gruffly. “Don’t buy it if you think it’s too expensive. But I should tell you that bread is precious here. We barely have enough to eat ourselves.”

  “So it would seem,” said Tiuri to himself, as he looked at the merchant, and he paid without haggling.

  The man became friendlier then and tried to sell other things to him. It wasn’t only food that he sold, he said, but also clothes, wicker baskets, axes, knives, and plenty of other wares.

  Tiuri said no at first, but then he spotted a pair of boots and realized that the Fool could do with some. And so Marius was given a rather faded pair of trousers and the boots, which he was delighted with – so delighted that he thought it a shame to wear them.

  Soon after that, the three travellers took the Second Great Road to the west. The Fool was wearing his new trousers, but carrying the boots in his hand.

  “They’re much too fine to walk in,” he said. “I’ll save them for when I have cold feet.”

  Tiuri and Piak looked at the river. The water was dark, perhaps because there was so much mud in it, and the banks were lined with thick, old trees.

  “Look, it’s really shallow there,” Piak pointed out.

  “That’s the ford, where you can wade across the river,” said Tiuri.

  “Shall we cross to the other side?” Piak suggested.

  A man with an axe, who was just walking by, heard his words and said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “Why not?” asked Piak.

  “You can figure that out for yourselves,” he said in an unfriendly tone, and he walked on along the road towards the point where it reached a dead end.

  Piak gazed across to the opposite bank, which seemed to be calling to him. “Just for a moment,” he said.

  Tiuri felt the same. He turne
d to the Fool and said, “Are you coming, too, Marius?”

  “I go where you go, Sir Tiuri,” he replied. “Is that the way home?”

  “We still have far to go,” said Tiuri.

  “Far, far, far,” sighed the Fool. “We won’t be there for a long time. I feel it. I know it.”

  “We’re only going to take a quick look,” said Tiuri, “and then we’ll travel on along the road.”

  Up on their horses, they were soon across the river. They rode a short way through tall reeds and then came to a clearing with a large stone in the middle.

  “The Dead Stone,” whispered Piak. He jumped down from his horse and walked over to it. As he reached out his hand to touch the stone, he changed his mind. He mumbled something: “‘Now retrace your steps or may the Wood devour you…’ Do you think this could have been a signpost, too?” he asked Tiuri, who was standing beside him.

  “There are no words on it,” said Tiuri.

  “Yes, but there’s a thick layer of moss. And all those strange brown marks. What could they be?”

  It looks a lot like blood, thought Tiuri, but he did not say so out loud.

  Piak walked around the stone. He seemed fascinated.

  “So you can speak an ill wish here,” he said. “Do you think a good wish would come true as well?”

  “Maybe you could even use your wish to destroy the stone’s evil power,” said Tiuri, only half joking.

  “Shall I wish something?” said Piak.

  “No, don’t do that,” said Tiuri, and although his tone was light, he meant what he said. “What if the stone twists your wish and turns it into something bad?”

  Piak nodded. “It could do…” he said pensively.

  Then he looked around. “Hey,” he cried. “Where’s Marius?”

  Two paths began at the clearing with the Dead Stone. One went to the north, while the other ran along the Black River to the west. That was where they found the Fool. He was sitting on the ground and staring at the water, twirling the curls in his beard.

  “Can you hear what the water’s saying?” he asked. “Can you hear how it flows? It comes from far away, from there – it comes from the Wild Wood. I know this river.”

  Tiuri sat down beside him and said, “Yes, Marius, this is the Black River, the river where you saw that knight.”

  “That wasn’t here,” said the Fool. “It was deeper in the forest. I know where it was.”

  “You know where it was?” asked Tiuri. “How far from here?”

  The Fool furrowed his brow. “One day?” he said. “Two days, maybe three? It was dark there, and there were leaves floating on the water.”

  “Oh, can’t we go and look for the place?” asked Piak. “Don’t you really want to find out what Sir Ristridin wrote on that tree as well?”

  Of course Tiuri did! But he gave a doubtful frown. He remembered Bendu’s words, “Are you going to inspect every tree in the Wild Wood…?” Was there any chance that the Fool could ever find that place again? And how long would it take?

  On the other bank, the man with the axe stood watching them. Then he disappeared into the forest and soon they heard the sounds of woodcutting.

  “I had to chop down trees, too,” said the Fool. “Chop down trees, because I’m strong. My brothers are strong, too. But where are they now?”

  “Yes, where are they?” asked Piak.

  “I don’t know,” whispered the Fool. “I ran away…” He paused before adding, “Oh, and I was at the Owl House, too.”

  “The Owl House?” Tiuri and Piak repeated.

  “That’s where it was!” said the Fool. “At the Owl House! I sheltered there when it snowed but later they came looking for me and so I went to the other side of the water. The Owl House.”

  “What about this Owl House?” asked Piak.

  “Where that knight was, that knight with his sword. It was near there… there was a road there. But I never walk on the roads.”

  “Is the house by the river?” asked Tiuri.

  “Yes, by the river,” replied the Fool. “That way.” He pointed to the west.

  “Do you think this path leads there?” Piak said to Tiuri. “A path always goes somewhere… maybe to a house.”

  “It’s possible…” said Tiuri. “Does anyone live in the house?” he asked the Fool.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Who?” asked Tiuri.

  “The owls, of course,” replied the Fool. “It’s an Owl House.”

  “Owls!” exclaimed Piak. “You mean actual birds live there?”

  “Yes, birds,” said the Fool. “That’s what owls are. Birds.”

  Tiuri stood up. “Marius,” he said, “do you mind if we go down this path for a bit? I’d really like to see this Owl House, and the tree where the knight knelt down.”

  “Because it’s what you want, Friend,” replied the Fool. “But I wouldn’t want to go to that place again myself, no, no, never.”

  “Then we shall take you home to your cabin instead,” said Tiuri.

  But then the Fool stood up, too, and said, “No, no! Go to the Owl House first, Friend, and then to my cabin. I have to go past the Owl House if we are going to the cabin.”

  “That’s not true!” said Tiuri.

  “Yes, it is,” said the Fool. “Don’t you understand? From the cabin I went to the Owl House and from the Owl House I went deeper into the wood, much deeper. Then I ran away and went back to the Owl House. I wanted to go home to the cabin, but then they came, and I had to escape to the other side of the water. And that’s what happened.”

  He placed a hand on Tiuri’s chest and added, “Let’s go to the Owl House, and then from the Owl House to the cabin. I won’t be afraid with the two of you there, truly I won’t.”

  “It could be close,” said Piak.

  “Fine, we’ll do it,” said Tiuri. “Down this path. But not too far. If we haven’t found anything by tomorrow evening, we’ll turn back.”

  “Then come with me!” said the Fool, picking up his boots. “Come with me, knights, friends. I know the way!”

  “Wait a moment!” cried Piak. “Shouldn’t we go and buy some more food first? We need to take enough supplies with us.”

  “Fine, if you want to do all the carrying,” said Tiuri with a smile. “But remember we’re not venturing too far into uncharted territory, eh?”

  5 ALONG THE BLACK RIVER

  The horses were still fresh and moved quickly along the path, which was fairly wide. Ardanwen did not tire, even with two riders on his back, Tiuri and Piak this time. The Fool, who was the heaviest, rode Piak’s horse. The boots were on his feet now.

  After about an hour, the path narrowed, and soon it was no more than a narrow track through the high, coarse grass. Still the horses walked calmly onwards, although more slowly than before.

  The trees were thick and old and grew in strange and twisted shapes. And the longer they rode, the denser the undergrowth became. Many of the bushes had evergreen leaves, and some towered above their heads. They hung over the river, dragging their branches in the slowly flowing dark water.

  “Now I understand why this river’s called the Black River,” said Piak. “Ow!” he added, as he banged his head on a prickly branch.

  The bushes were so dense now that they could barely make their way through.

  “Is this even still a path?” Tiuri wondered out loud. “I don’t think so.”

  “There’s something over there that looks more like a proper way through,” said Piak, pointing.

  “But that would mean moving away from the river,” said Tiuri. “Oh, but let’s give it a try. We really can’t carry on along here.”

  After a while, they realized that the new track also ran parallel to the river, but it too became increasingly difficult to ride along. Leading their horses, they proceeded on foot. The Fool took off his boots again, as the ground was becoming boggy and he thought it a shame to get them dirty.

  “Phew!” said Piak finally, dropping
down onto the trunk of a fallen tree. “What a terrible path.”

  “It isn’t a path at all!” said Tiuri. “The real path came to a dead end ages ago.”

  The Fool sat down beside Piak and said, “Bad ground here, bad ground. But soon there’s a real road.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Tiuri.

  “Certain, very certain,” replied the Fool. “I can tell by the river. This is the dark river, and by the Owl House the road runs along the dark river.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Tiuri.

  “Don’t you believe me, don’t you believe me, Friend?” said the Fool, sounding very upset. “But I say nothing to you that is not true!”

  “I believe you, Marius,” Tiuri reassured him. “I only hope the Owl House is not too far and that it is possible to reach it by following the river. I don’t plan on leaving the river. We’d get lost in no time.”

  “That is true,” nodded the Fool. “I got lost, too, often. But I won’t get lost with you.”

  *

  Am I doing the right thing? thought Tiuri, as they went on their way. Wouldn’t it have been better to take the open roads to the Royal Forest, where the Fool belongs? Was Bendu right? Was Isadoro right? Bendu thought I shouldn’t travel with Marius at all, Isadoro said I shouldn’t travel to the west, and her father thought me a coward. No one, except for Piak and perhaps Evan, thought I should believe the Fool. Well, if his stories are nonsense, then nothing bad can happen to us in this forest. But then, if he’s right, we could be heading into danger…

  Then, suddenly, he sank down into the mud. It came up over his ankles.

  “The trees are wider apart here!” called Piak.

  “But it’s getting more and more like a bog,” said Tiuri. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to turn around and go back.”

  “Oh no, let’s walk on until at least this evening!” said Piak. “We can always go back tomorrow. Besides, you said we had until tomorrow evening.”