The Secrets of the Wild Wood

by Tonke Dragt

  “Do not request a fanfare before the victory,” said his master.

  “But I shall be the victor!” cried Jaro. He looked at Tiuri and said, “You weren’t expecting this, eh, that you’d meet me again? Now I can finally settle our score! You tried to cast me into a ravine, and now I shall plunge you into the morass of death! And then I shall be a Red Rider again, as I was before.” He came and stood close to Tiuri. “You were disguised as a pilgrim!” he hissed. “Do you remember? Bah!” He spat in front of Tiuri’s feet. “I still remember every word we said to each other. Do you? Every single word! And now I’m going to pay you back and…

  “Silence!” commanded the Black Knight. “Prepare yourselves. A duel for the life of this… squire.”

  Jaro drew his sword and asked one of the Red Riders to lend him his shield.

  Tiuri nodded at the Fool. Confused thoughts were whirling around his mind. Jaro, he had to fight against Jaro. Why had he told such wicked lies? But then he’d also said, “I still remember every word…”

  “Ready?” called a Red Rider.

  Now Tiuri was facing his opponent. The Black Knight raised his hand.

  How can I fight? thought Tiuri, lifting his sword for the ritual salute. He suddenly felt very young and inexperienced among all of these warriors, and he really didn’t know what kind of opponent he was up against. “But,” he said to himself, “I have to win. I’m fighting for Marius.”

  The swords tapped against each other a few times, as in a practice fight, calmly and without passion. Both men wanted first to get the measure of the other. They made a few feints. Then Jaro lunged and Tiuri parried, before going on the attack, which was likewise repelled. The young knight regained his composure. If the fight continued like this, maybe it would end well.

  But the crowd was disappointed. “Isn’t this supposed to be a fight to the death?” one of them shouted.

  Jaro’s attacks grew a little fiercer. His sword clashed against Tiuri’s shield, but did not injure him. So Tiuri also fought back with more fire. The swords clashed together, and then Tiuri made a lunge that Jaro could only just parry.

  I must act quickly! thought the young knight, and disarm him before he knows what’s happening… He let fly with a series of attack movements that he’d often practised with his father. One, two, three… nearly got him! One, two…

  And then he stumbled.

  The Fool shrieked.

  But Jaro stepped back and waited until Tiuri was back on his feet. “Ready?” he said. “I’m going to make this difficult for you.”

  At least Jaro was behaving like a knight. But now his attacks became more dangerous, and all of Tiuri’s thoughts were swept away, except for one: I must not lose!

  His beautiful white shield soon received its first dents.

  Click, clack, clang!

  The Red Riders whistled and jeered.

  “Take that!” cried Jaro, lashing out, but his aim was slightly off and Tiuri escaped the blow.

  The crowd roared.

  “And that!” yelled Jaro, and now it seemed as if he really would defeat Tiuri… No, he lost his balance, and the young knight had some time to recover.

  Tiuri realized that he had been reduced to defending and he’d have to go on the attack in order to win. But a moment later Jaro made the first strike. Tiuri barely felt it – just a scratch – but it ignited his desire to win. He was fighting for Marius!

  All around him, the Red Riders were cheering for Jaro, but some of them were whistling their disapproval and one shouted out, “You could have had him long ago, Jaro!”

  No, no, thought Tiuri. You won’t have me.

  For a while, they both fought quite calmly, to recover their strength.

  Then it was Tiuri who was driving Jaro back, and in just a few quick movements he knocked the sword from Jaro’s hand.

  Silence fell.

  Tiuri stood there, panting. Jaro gave a quick smile, before picking up his sword and returning to the duel.

  Tiuri had not been expecting that. Keep a cool head, he thought to himself. You have to force it to a quick end now. He’s a good fighter. If this goes on for a long time, he’ll have the advantage…

  He allowed himself to be pushed back a little way, but all the while he was preparing for his next attack. It was so sharp and unexpected that it took Jaro by surprise.

  Now! thought Tiuri. A few lightning-fast strikes… blood was flowing over Jaro’s hand… They were close together now… their swords were right up against each other… then a movement from Tiuri… and for the second time Jaro dropped his sword.

  This time, Tiuri quickly stood on it.

  Jaro lowered his shield and looked at him. There was no sign of fear on his face.

  The Red Riders were silent.

  “Kill him,” came a voice.

  Jaro knelt. Tiuri turned to the Black Knight. It was he who had spoken.

  “I have won, my lord,” he said breathlessly.

  “Indeed you have. Now finish it,” he said.

  But Tiuri could not even contemplate killing Jaro; he knew he simply wouldn’t be capable of it. “It is finished,” he said. “I have won.”

  “I would have killed you!” cried Jaro, but his expression made it clear that he feared no such fate from Tiuri.

  “I will not do it,” Tiuri said curtly. “Do you acknowledge me as victor?”

  “Yes…” replied Jaro, as he got to his feet. He glanced at his master before saying, “No, it wasn’t fair. I… I had the sun in my eyes. I… Oh well… Yes, you have won.”

  “You were not at your best today, Jaro,” said the Black Knight coldly.

  “I want to fight again!” cried Jaro. “I have sworn that I will be the one to defeat him.”

  The Red Riders laughed scornfully.

  “It’s too late now,” said the Black Knight. “You missed your chance and I doubt you will ever have another one. Now hand back that red shield. And begone!”

  Jaro bowed, turned around and walked away, dragging his feet.

  The Fool came over to Tiuri and whispered, “You are a good knight, Friend!”

  The Black Knight turned to the Red Riders and spoke brusquely to them in a language Tiuri did not understand. It was the language of Eviellan, rather than the more familiar tongue of the Kingdom of Unauwen, which was almost the same as that spoken in Dagonaut’s land.

  Tiuri’s sword and shield were taken from him again. Then the knight beckoned to him and they walked back to the river. The Fool followed, and two Red Riders went ahead with the master’s horse. The others spread out in all directions.

  “You could become a good swordsman, Sir Tiuri,” said the Black Knight. “Why did you not kill Jaro?”

  “Why should I kill him?” he replied. “I won… isn’t that enough?”

  “A man must eliminate his enemies,” said the Black Knight. “And I take it that Jaro is your enemy.”

  Yes, that was true. Wasn’t it? In a flash, Tiuri relived the whole fight. It dawned on him that, at a few points, Jaro had had him completely in his power…

  Had Jaro let Tiuri win on purpose? He could see the Black Knight was waiting for an answer. Of course he mustn’t let him suspect anything!

  “Yes, my lord,” he said. “He has tried to kill me before.”

  “And you him,” said the knight.

  “I had to defend myself,” said Tiuri quickly. He knew for certain: this was the knight who had lured Edwinem of Forèstèrra into a trap. The Black Knight with the Red Shield, whose knights had chased after Tiuri when he was on his mission to deliver the letter.

  “Friend, you are bleeding!” came the horrified voice of the Fool beside him.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” said Tiuri. But still he realized that he’d like to sit down for a moment – not because of the scratch, but to calm his emotions. His first real duel, the encounters with the Black Knight and with Jaro…

  His face revealed nothing, though, and he calmly walked on. Although he stared straig
ht ahead, he could feel the presence of the Black Knight.

  “Now we shall go to my castle,” the Black Knight said when they had reached the river. He pointed at the road heading north on the other side of the bridge.

  Tiuri looked around. To the west, a section of the forest had been cleared; wooden huts had been built there, with slopes rising behind them that grew higher and steeper before giving way to the summits of the Great Mountains. To the north and south he could see the forest, with the road running through it.

  “The Wild Wood Way,” said the Black Knight. “It leads from my castle to what people refer to as civilization.”

  “Where does it come out?” Tiuri asked in spite of himself. He didn’t actually want to talk to this knight at all.

  “At the edge of the forest, by the mountains and the Grey River,” came the reply. “For those who know it is there! If you are travelling from Eviellan, or from the Kingdom of Dagonaut, or from the Great Mountains, and you wish to find the Wild Wood Way, you must first know one of the three secret access routes – I call them the Three Ways to One Goal. That goal can be reached along the Wild Wood Way and across the Low Bridge…” He pointed again to the north. “My fortress by mountains and by rivers wide!”

  An image of Isadoro flashed through Tiuri’s mind. Those were the words of her song…

  By the bridge stood a number of guards, dressed in green like Jaro, with black caps on their heads. Another man came towards them, leading a reluctant black horse by the reins.

  “And here is Ardanwen,” said the Black Knight with the Red Shield. “Once he would allow only one rider on his back.”

  That rider had been Edwinem, known as the Invincible, Edwinem of Forèstèrra, who had been murdered by…

  Tiuri looked at the knight, who seemed captivated by the sight of Ardanwen. The horse had flattened back his ears – did he recognize the knight?

  Then the knight suddenly turned his head towards Tiuri, who felt as if his thoughts must be written all over his face. He tried to keep his expression as blank as possible and not to lower his eyes. He wished he knew what the knight looked like. Anything would have been better than looking at that closed visor.

  The knight spoke, almost to himself it seemed: “A black horse and a white shield…” A little more loudly, he continued, “Climb onto this horse, Sir Tiuri, so I may see if it is truly yours. Then you shall enter my territory as befits a knight.” He called one of his men over and gave him an order, “Return his shield to him, but not his sword.”

  Tiuri did not know what to make of this. Why did he have to cross the bridge on Ardanwen, with his shield, as if he were a guest – but without his sword, like a prisoner? Should he refuse? But Ardanwen came to him and bowed his neck. He loved Night Wind and was proud of him. No one else would ride him, certainly not this dishonourable knight. So Tiuri climbed onto Ardanwen and rode to the bridge without saying a word. Then he looked around and called, “Marius!”

  The Fool came running and took Ardanwen by the bridle. They walked over the bridge together.

  The Black Knight followed after them; he too was on horseback now. “Ride on beside me, Sir Tiuri,” he said, “to my castle, the Tarnburg.”

  But Tiuri said: “How can I ride beside you, knight whose name I do not know? Can you and I ride beside each other, as if our goal is the same?”

  “I am not riding beside you, Sir Tiuri,” came the reply, “but beside a memory, a ghost of long ago. Even your squire – so unlike any other squire – is a good match.”

  “You speak in riddles,” said Tiuri curtly. “Why do you not treat me as what I am? Your prisoner!”

  “Am I not doing that?” sneered the knight. “I shall speak in riddles if it pleases me, and have you ride beside me on Ardanwen if I so choose. You know what you are, Sir Tiuri: my prisoner! But I, the man to whose whim you must submit, will remain a stranger. I am a secret of the Wild Wood, a place about which you became too curious. Now come with me.”

  4 THE TARNBURG

  Tiuri rode in silence beside the Black Knight with the Red Shield. The Fool trotted alongside; he kept patting Ardanwen, as if it gave him courage. All around was dark forest and the track seemed to be leading towards the mountains, as the ground was becoming more hilly. Now and then they encountered people, Red Riders and men wearing green and black, who greeted the Black Knight with respect.

  The Black Knight did not say another word and Tiuri was glad of that. If only Bendu knew! he thought. But Bendu was far away; he was fighting against Deltaland in the south. Tiuri was getting further and further away from his friends; perhaps he was now beyond their reach. But Piak… where might Piak be? Had he escaped? Was he on his way to King Dagonaut to tell him everything and to fetch help? Just as long as he hadn’t been captured, too…

  “I mustn’t lose heart,” Tiuri said to himself. Arwaut, Ilmar and other brave men had been treacherously slain, but he was still alive. He wondered what plans the Black Knight had for him; he certainly hadn’t spared him out of kindness.

  They rode onwards for a long time. The forest thinned out and Tiuri saw that lots of trees had been felled and piled up in stacks.

  In the afternoon, they came to a clearing. And there was the castle, a large building of reddish stone. The mountains were very close now; their lower slopes were covered with pine trees, but above that they were bare and snow lay on the peaks. As they approached the castle, Tiuri saw it was in a very dilapidated state. A wooden house had been built up against it.

  “The Tarnburg and the House with the Red Shield,” said the Black Knight – the first words he had spoken since they had set out. “My home in the Wild Wood.”

  The Fool stopped for a moment, panting and exhausted, because he had not wanted to ride with Tiuri on Ardanwen. He gazed open-mouthed at the castle. It certainly did look impressive, in spite of its age – or perhaps because of it. The house was new; a large red shield hung on a pole in front of the gate.

  The Black Knight held out his arm and said, “That mountain, to the north-west, is the Tarntop.”

  Tiuri had already noticed the mighty peak. Now we are at the foot of the Great Mountains, he thought, the border of the Wild Wood.

  To the north, though, were trees, just as there were to the south and the east. He could hear the sound of water; it must be the rivers that were mentioned in the song.

  They rode up to the castle. There were guards all around.

  “Welcome to my home, Sir Tiuri,” said the Black Knight. “Dismount and enter, never to leave again.”

  Tiuri did not respond to his mockery. But little room remained for hope. The Tarnburg looked as if there must be many dungeons below, and the entire surroundings seemed designed to thwart any plans of escape. There were impassable mountains, wild forest, and many, many armed men encircling the castle and walking across the clearing.

  Ardanwen snorted restlessly as a number of servants attempted to lead him away.

  “Take good care of him,” ordered the Black Knight.

  “May you fare well, Night Wind,” whispered Tiuri. “Walk beside me, Marius,” he said to the Fool, as the guards escorted them into the House with the Red Shield.

  The Black Knight did not go with them.

  Tiuri and the Fool found themselves in a large hall, where Red Riders sat at long tables. Some were eating; others were talking, or checking their weapons. The two prisoners were told to sit on a bench in a corner and then left to their own devices. The Red Riders ignored them – a few of them glanced over with spiteful grins, but that was all. Tiuri gently tried to raise the frightened Fool’s spirits. For what must have been an hour or more, they just sat there. They were both hungry, but no one thought to bring them any food.

  Men came walking in and out; not only Red Riders, but also men in green clothes and black caps. Some of them brought in weapons and handed them to the Red Riders – they must have been cleaning them. One of those men was Jaro.

  It looks as if he has a lower rank now,
thought Tiuri. He used to be one of the Red Riders, and they’re clearly in charge here.

  One Red Rider started shouting furiously because he found a mark on his sword. Another gave Jaro a scolding. “Why have you brought all those spears in here, you idiot? Put them where they belong!”

  Jaro carried the spears through the hall. Then, close to where the two prisoners were sitting, he dropped them and they clattered onto the floor. He picked them up, without looking at Tiuri, and walked away.

  Then the Fool leant over to Tiuri with an anxious look on his face and whispered, “He put something in my boot!”

  “What? Who?” asked Tiuri.

  “That man… He’s gone now. The man you fought, Friend!”

  “Quiet!” whispered Tiuri. “Don’t let the Red Riders hear you.” He looked at the Fool’s feet; his boots were indeed big enough to hide something in. “Can you feel what it is?” he asked.

  “No… He dropped something into my boot. It’s hard and cold and sharp.”

  “Just keep looking straight ahead. Act as if nothing’s going on,” Tiuri said quietly.

  “I can feel it by my foot,” said the Fool.

  “Don’t say anything. Don’t give anything away, Marius. It could be something good; perhaps that man wants to help us,” whispered Tiuri, looking at the Red Riders, but they were still paying no attention to them.

  Something hard and cold and sharp… a knife maybe? Had Jaro not in fact forgotten their encounter in the mountains and his conversation with the hermit? Tiuri’s heart was once again filled with hope.

  More men came inside. Two of them came over to the prisoners and ordered them to go with them.

  Please don’t let Marius give anything away! thought Tiuri. No, the Fool was quietly following them, and limping only slightly.

  The servants of the Black Knight led them through a door into a dark room with walls of stone. Now we’re inside the castle itself, Tiuri realized. Then they passed through other rooms and along corridors and up a spiral staircase, which opened into a long hallway. At the other end was a guard; the men opened a heavy door nearby.