by Tonke Dragt
“In here,” one of them said.
When Tiuri and the Fool were inside, the door slammed shut and the bolts creaked.
“What now?” whispered the Fool.
“We’re locked up, Marius,” said Tiuri. “Prisoners in the Tarnburg.”
He looked around the room. There were two windows opposite, with bars on them.
“May I take off my boots?” asked the Fool.
“Yes, of course,” said Tiuri. “Yes, quickly, take them off!”
The Fool did so, and a moment later he held up something for his friend to see. “Look,” he whispered. “Here it is.”
It was a file.
A file! Jaro really does want to help us, Tiuri thought happily. He took the file from Marius and walked over to one of the windows. He inspected the bars; they were made of hard, strong iron, but were no longer an impossible barrier. Looking outside, he saw that they were quite high above the ground, but it would still be possible, if…
Then his gaze fell on two soldiers in green and black who were slowly walking up and down beneath the windows.
“What’s this for, Friend?” asked the Fool, who had come to stand beside him.
“You can use it to file through the bars,” said Tiuri. “But the castle’s guarded. Look down there.”
“File through the bars,” whispered the Fool. “And break them! Let me file the bars, Friend!”
“Not now,” said Tiuri. “The guards can see us.” Yes, one of them was looking up. “We’ll have to wait until it’s dark.”
They were somewhere at the back of the castle. To the left, in the distance, they could see the Tarntop; to the right, their view was blocked by a protruding bastion. In front of them was a grassy area that sloped downwards, with rocks and boulders lying here and there. At the bottom of the slope, to their left, was a bridge and they could hear water. So there must be a river down there. The Green River maybe? thought Tiuri. For a long way into the distance, all he could see was forest.
He turned away from the window and said, “First we need to hide this file.”
The room was dark and neglected, yet spoke of past glory. The floor tiles, although now cracked, had been laid in a beautiful design. On the walls, the remains of paintings could still be seen. There were just a few pieces of furniture: a table with a candlestick on it, two chairs and a chest. On one side was a doorway, which led into a small windowless room with two narrow beds.
“I think this is a very miserable place, Friend,” said the Fool.
So did Tiuri, although their prison was not much like a dungeon. He hid the file under a loose tile by the fireplace and surveyed the room. There was only one escape route: through one of the windows. And they’d be best off taking the window on the right, as it wasn’t immediately visible to anyone who came in.
The Fool had sat down; he looked at his boots again and then he gasped. “There’s something else in there!”
Tiuri was by his side in an instant. It was a piece of bark with some lines scratched on it. The message wasn’t easy to decipher. It was made up of stiff, clumsy letters, which formed three words:
THE THIRD NIGHT
“The third night…” Tiuri muttered.
“What does that mean?” asked the Fool, “the third night?”
“Perhaps it means we can escape on that night,” said Tiuri quietly. “That would be the night of the day after tomorrow. As it is now, we’d never make it, not with all those guards. We’ll have to make sure we’ve filed through the bars by then.”
The Fool looked as if he wanted to start filing right away, but Tiuri said, “No, Marius, wait until it’s dark. Be patient for just a little longer.”
The Fool nodded. “Why is he helping us?” he asked. “Do you know him? Yes, you know each other, but you fought. How can that be?”
“It’s a long story,” said Tiuri, thinking back to his first encounter with Jaro. “I don’t understand Jaro entirely. But he is thinking of us and he wants to help us; that’s for sure.”
“Not all enemies are enemies,” whispered the Fool. “I never knew that, Friend.”
“Have you met the Black Knight and his Red Riders before?” asked Tiuri.
“Not the Knight, never,” replied the Fool. “But the Red Riders, yes. They were riding through the forest. There are many of them, so many! But they do not let themselves be seen very often, like the Men in Green.”
“Do they live here, too, the Men in Green?” asked Tiuri. “Is that the Green River we can hear?”
The Fool furrowed his brow. “I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t been here before, at the castle, in this house. I wasn’t allowed to come here. I was over there,” he said, pointing to the north-east, “and I also lived by the Low Bridge. You know, by the tower. There are houses there, too – didn’t you see them?”
“With your brothers,” said Tiuri.
“Yes, but I didn’t see them today. Perhaps they ran away, too. But no, I don’t think so. They wanted to go with the Red Riders, to come here. But they’re scared of the Men in Green, just like me.”
“Why’s that?” asked Tiuri.
The Fool shrugged. “I have never spoken to them,” he whispered. “They don’t want to talk to me. They speak only to the Red Riders. And their master is the lord of a castle by the mountains.”
“The Black Knight with the Red Shield,” muttered Tiuri. “Who is he? The knight that Bendu was looking for… cruel, deceitful, dangerous… What is he doing here, so far from Eviellan?”
“I wish we were somewhere else, Friend,” said the Fool. “It’s a long time until the third night.”
Tiuri’s gaze fell on the chest in one corner of the room, a worm-eaten box with iron bindings. He opened it up to see if there was anything inside.
Yes… a black and white checked board and a dusty box of chess pieces. He stood there for a moment, holding it in his hands. He thought of Castle Ristridin, where he had played chess with Tirillo and Sir Idian. Prince Iridian… was he back in his father’s kingdom by now?
“What do you have there, Friend?” asked the Fool.
Tiuri placed the board on the table and laid out the pieces – they were beautiful, made of ivory and ebony. “This is a chessboard,” he said. “Chess is a game for two people; one person plays with white, the other with black. Whichever player checkmates the other is the winner.”
“Checkmate? What does that mean?” asked the Fool.
“It means dead,” replied Tiuri. “You can defeat each other’s pieces, and they all move in their own way. Look, this is the king. He stands here, with the queen beside him. And these small pieces are called pawns; each player has eight of them.” He went on talking, even though he soon realized the Fool didn’t understand much of what he was saying. But he was looking at the board with great interest.
“There are horses,” he said, “and towers. Play with them, Friend, and I shall watch.”
“Then I shall have to play against myself,” said Tiuri, making the opening move with white. Perhaps this game would help to make the time pass more quickly. What time was it now? It was already getting dark.
He left the chessboard and went to look outside. The guards were still walking up and down, and a Red Rider galloped past. Tiuri shivered; it was chilly in the room and there was no fuel to make a fire.
Then the bolts creaked and two servants came in. Silently, they placed some food on the table, lit the candles, and left.
“This is welcome, eh, Marius?” said Tiuri as cheerfully as he could. “Look: bread, meat and red wine.”
The food did them some good. One of the servants came to take the plates away. When he left the room, he did not close the door. But a moment later, another man appeared in the doorway.
The Black Knight, Lord of the Tarnburg.
5 A GAME OF CHESS
He was still wearing his black armour, with the visor of his helmet closed – he was even still wearing his gloves. His red shield was all he had left behind.
“I have just come to see,” he said, “if your accommodation is satisfactory and that you are lacking nothing… except, of course, your freedom.”
The Fool leapt up and retreated to the adjoining room.
The Black Knight closed the door, stepped into the room and said, “Yes, you go to your bed, squire, and keep out of my sight. Goodnight!”
The Fool sat down on one of the beds. Tiuri could see him anxiously huddled there. Then he turned back to the Black Knight and silently waited for him to leave.
The Knight remained there, however; he crossed his arms and looked at the chessboard. “Ah, I see you’ve started a game,” he said. “With your friend? No, I’m sure he’s no chess player.”
Tiuri said nothing.
“It is a fine thing to have oneself as an opponent,” the knight continued calmly. “Inside every person there are many different beings… did you know that?” Slowly, he moved a black pawn forward. Then he pulled up a chair and sat down, rather stiffly, because of his armour. “I want to play chess with you,” he said, “with a black horse as the stake.”
“Which horse would that be?” said Tiuri, breaking his silence.
“There is only one black horse we could play for,” replied the knight. “Ardanwen, or Night Wind. He is your horse, is he not?”
“Ardanwen chose me as his master,” said Tiuri, “but that does not mean I can play for him, as if he were some object that could be given away!”
“He will also accept me as his master if you command him to do so,” said the Black Knight. “Is that not so?”
“Perhaps,” said Tiuri. “But I refuse to play with him as a stake.”
Anxiously, he waited for the knight’s reply.
“For another stake, then?” the knight said calmly. “I once heard a story of two men who played a chess game with a life as the stake. Perhaps one of them was Death himself. I no longer remember.”
He paused.
Tiuri heard the Fool’s bed creak. Someone outside shouted an order.
“The game of chess is the only fair fight in the world,” the knight said then. “Both parties have the same number of pieces; both have an equal chance. Only white has the privilege of making the first move… and I have left that privilege to you.” He seemed to be looking at Tiuri. “So?” he continued. “How about playing without a stake? For the sake of the game alone?”
Tiuri did not like the idea of playing chess with this stranger, whom he could see only as an enemy. Deep in his heart he was afraid of this knight, even though he did not wish to admit that even to himself. He glanced at the window, saw the black lines of the bars, and thought of the file. Then he came up with an idea.
He said to the knight, “Yes, let’s play with a stake, after all, my lord!”
“And what stake would that be?”
“Your face,” replied Tiuri. “I would like to see your face.”
The Black Knight put one hand up to his helmet and paused for a moment. “Fine,” he said slowly. “If you win I will raise my visor so you can look at my face.” There almost seemed to be a hint of amusement in his voice.
Tiuri was filled with uncertainty. He was surprised that the knight had immediately agreed to his challenge. He must be a good chess player. But so am I, thought Tiuri. I have to play to win! He’s right. This fight gives us both an equal chance, and it’s impossible to cheat.
After pondering for a moment, he made his move.
The Black Knight immediately moved his own piece and said, “But we haven’t discussed what will happen if I am the winner. What is your stake? You cannot change your mind now, as our game has already begun.”
What a cunning opponent he was!
“I don’t know, my lord,” replied Tiuri. “I have nothing I can call my own and neither do I have anything to hide.”
To Tiuri’s relief, the knight did not bring up the subject of Ardanwen again. “If I win,” he said, “I shall oblige you to play another game with me… when it pleases me.”
And what will be at stake then? Tiuri wondered, as he looked down at the chessboard. He wanted to win, but all kinds of thoughts were disrupting the calm concentration he needed to consider his strategy. Who was this knight? What did he want? Why had he settled in this forest? Eviellan, he came from Eviellan…
He heard the Fool moving and silently wished for him to stay where he was. He looked again at his opponent, who was like an iron statue, a creature of darkness with no face at all.
I have to see him, thought Tiuri. He felt that only then would he know what attitude to take, what plans to make… I don’t want to play another game later, for whatever stake he might choose.
“Then play!” said the Black Knight.
Someone else had once said that to him. Tirillo! The jester’s words echoed in Tiuri’s mind: “Then play,” and “Please be so kind as to concentrate on our game.” Back then he had tried for Tirillo’s sake; now he had to try again, for a very different reason.
Tiuri closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the board. He made his move and then it was only the game that existed for him: moves, countermoves…
After a while, the Black Knight spoke, “You play well.”
“I could say the same of you,” replied Tiuri truthfully, as he captured a black pawn.
The knight took one of Tiuri’s bishops and said, “See, you have to be prepared to sacrifice a pawn to win a greater battle. It’s the same in life. Sometimes a man has to push others aside in order to reach a great goal.”
Tiuri suddenly thought of Arwaut and Ilmar. Fury rose within him. “Life is not a game,” he said coldly, “and people are not pawns.”
“But you would not hesitate to defeat your enemies, would you?” said the Black Knight. “Although… you are still far too kind-hearted. What about Jaro? In your place, I would have known what I had to do.”
“I am sure you did not hesitate to kill Sir Arwaut and Ilmar and all those others!” cried Tiuri. “But why were they your enemies? What had they done to you?”
“Arwaut? Ilmar?” repeated the Black Knight. “Who are those men? I do not know them.”
“That is a lie,” whispered Tiuri. Then, more loudly, he added, “And what about Sir Ristridin?”
“Ristridin of the South,” said the knight. “I swear on my word of honour that I never hurt a hair on his head!”
“So where is he?” asked Tiuri.
The Black Knight laughed softly. “Do you not know?” he asked. “Well, I shall not tell you.”
“Why did you take me prisoner?” asked Tiuri. “What are you doing here in the forest?”
“This is my home, my castle, my land,” replied the knight.
“This is not your land!” said Tiuri. “The Wild Wood belongs to our kingdom, to King Dagonaut.”
“This wood belonged to no one before I came!” said the Black Knight, sitting up straight. “What did you people know about it? Nothing! You knew it only from some old stories. You have not entered it for years – you even allowed the Second Great Road to the west to grow over! You and your compatriots have lost any right to call this land your own.”
“King Dagonaut sent out Sir Ristridin to learn more about it,” Tiuri began.
“Too late,” said the Black Knight.
“That is not true!” said Tiuri angrily. “You have no right to be here or to attack those who come here.”
“Ah, you speak like a knight of King Dagonaut,” his opponent countered.
“I am indeed a knight of King Dagonaut.”
“I am pleased to hear it,” said the Black Knight. “I thought at first that I should see you as a knight of Unauwen, with your white shield and your hatred of Eviellan.” He held up one hand. “Let me finish,” he continued. “I assure you I am no enemy of you and your king. As a citizen of Eviellan I want only friendship with your land! I have chosen to live in the Wild Wood because no one else wanted to dwell here, but I mean no harm and wish to hinder none.”
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�So why did they disappear, the men that King Dagonaut sent here?” asked Tiuri quietly.
The knight did not answer immediately. Then he said, “Who says they have disappeared? They never reached the Tarnburg, but there are many paths in this wood. I know only that Sir Ristridin left the wood of his own free will. I think he gave up trying to unravel its secrets. One of those secrets is my presence here – and it must remain a secret, for a little longer, just a little longer…”
Tiuri thought, He is lying! He doesn’t know Ristridin left a message on that tree by the river. And he asked, “So where did Sir Ristridin go?”
“Do you not know?” said the knight again. “Perhaps he is now sleeping soundly in the castle of a friend.”
“I do not believe you,” said Tiuri.
The Black Knight leant forward. “You speak rashly, Tiuri!” he said. “What right do you, a boy who knows nothing of me, have to judge me? Confine yourself instead to our game of chess, though it would be better for you if you did not win.”
His tone was flat, yet menacing. “It’s your move,” he said. “Do not hesitate to sacrifice one of your pieces if you wish to checkmate me. Or do you not dare?”
When Tiuri did not respond, he gestured towards the room where the Fool had taken refuge.
“A few days ago, it was serious and not a game, and then, too, you did not dare,” he said. “I heard from my men that you could perhaps have escaped if you had not gone to help your squire! Now you are both prisoners – do you think that is something to be pleased about?” Again he laughed and said, “Now I have given you something to consider tonight. And you may also ponder your next move. We shall finish our game tomorrow, Tiuri!”
He rose to his feet and stood, tall and dark, facing the young knight. Then he turned on his heels and left the room.
A moment later, the Fool was standing beside Tiuri. “What have you done, Friend?” he said in horror. “You must not speak to him. You cannot listen to him. He is wicked. He is evil!”
