The Secrets of the Wild Wood

by Tonke Dragt

  Tiuri looked at him aghast. It was true; he had hardly thought about the danger that might be threatening the Kingdom of Dagonaut!

  They soon reached the shore of the lake. The two men had greeted them without speaking, but did not seem unfriendly, and they asked them in their usual, silent way to walk with them to the opposite shore. But Tiuri said, slowly and clearly, “You are telling us where we must go… but why? We are fugitives and mean no harm. Do you hear what I’m saying?” The men nodded, their faces serious.

  “But do you actually understand, too?” asked Tiuri. “We don’t want to do as you say until we know what you plan to do with us.”

  “That’s right,” said Jaro. “You tell them!”

  One of the men pointed at the sun, slowly lowered his arm, and said, “Tehalon.”

  “That again!” growled Jaro.

  “Who or what is Tehalon?” asked Tiuri. “Is it a person?”

  The man nodded again. He frowned and seemed to be thinking for a moment. Then his face brightened and with a solemn gesture he laid his weapons – spear, bow and arrows – at Tiuri’s feet. Then he looked at Tiuri and gave him a cheerful grin. He reminded Tiuri of Tirillo for a moment – the same wry, pointed face – and suddenly the man had a personality of his own. Until then, the Men in Green had all looked the same to Tiuri.

  This man appeared to read his mind. He grinned again, pointed at himself, and said, “Twarik.” Then he put a finger on Tiuri’s chest and said, “Tee-ooh-ri.”

  Tiuri looked at him, a little surprised, although he shouldn’t have been too astonished that his name was known to the Men in Green. After all, Jaro had said they knew everything.

  The other man now followed his companion’s example. He put down his weapons and introduced himself as “Lian.” He was small and slender, and had no beard.

  “Delighted to make your acquaintance,” said Jaro sarcastically.

  The Fool said with a shy laugh, “The Fool in the Forest is what they call me, but my name is actually Marius.”

  Tiuri suddenly felt lighter. “I have to believe that you mean us well,” he said. “We will follow you.”

  The men loped ahead of them around the lake shore. When they reached the other side, they were made to sit down beside a pile of wood, and Twarik lit a fire.

  “It would seem that we’re supposed to stay here,” Jaro remarked.

  “It just occurred to me that they allowed us to keep our weapons,” said Tiuri. “That shows they have good intentions.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that! There are so many of them. There’s no way we could take them all on,” replied Jaro. “I’d rather not be sitting here, but as things stand, I think we should just rest and eat. That’s if they have any food for us.”

  They did. The Men in Green brought them wild apples and hunks of meat, which they cooked over the fire. They joined them to eat, but then disappeared into the trees, where it was already getting dark.

  The Fool stood at the edge of the lake, peering into the water, and said, “It is deep, so very deep! But it is not a lake of evil spirits, not as Jaro thought. Not anymore. It makes me sad, not scared.”

  “Don’t the Men in Green make you scared anymore either, Marius?” Tiuri asked quietly.

  “N… no,” replied the Fool. “Not now. They speak to me – not with words, but still they speak.” He stretched out in the grass by the shore and continued thoughtfully, “For the first time I am not longing for my home and my cabin, Friend. And that is good, because you cannot take me there yet. If I cannot go there, then I want to stay here. I have never been here before, so I did not know what it was like.”

  “Is this place… good?” asked Tiuri.

  “Yes…” said the Fool slowly, and he yawned.

  Tiuri went for a wander around the valley. He stopped by a path that led to the west. There was a large stone there, with words carved into it. It was exactly the same kind of stone as the one by the path to the Unholy Hills, and the words written upon it probably meant the same.

  You who come as an enemy,

  now retrace your steps

  or may the Wood devour you!

  Was the language of the Men in Green, which had sounded so familiar to him on the watchtower, the same language as this, the old secret language of the Kingdom of Unauwen?

  He thought about Isadoro. He wished he had asked her more questions when he’d had the chance. He tried to picture her, but she remained hazy, like a dream that leaves a strange feeling upon awakening.

  The sound of a voice made him look around in surprise. A woman’s voice… how was that possible, here in this forest? A man’s voice replied, and it was two men who came walking down the track: Lian and Twarik. Lian said something to his companion, but fell silent when he saw Tiuri.

  He…? Lian was not a Man but a Woman in Green, a woman, dressed and armed like a hunter. Tiuri stared at her. There was no doubt about it, although he’d never heard of such a thing before, except in stories.

  Lian and Twarik both smiled and walked past him, to the place where Jaro and the Fool were sitting by the fire.

  Tiuri followed them. They belong together, he thought. They must be husband and wife. And he wondered if more of the Men in Green were actually women.

  The sun sank behind the trees and mountains. Lian stamped out the fire. Tiuri looked at Jaro; would he notice she was a woman, too? But Jaro wasn’t paying attention to anything; he looked as if he was working on an escape plan.

  Then Twarik signalled at them to follow him beneath the trees, where they found three hammocks.

  “Do we have to sleep in those things?” said Jaro. “Like birds in a nest?”

  Tiuri laughed. “They’re high and they’re dry,” he said. He looked at Twarik and said, “When will we be free to come and go as we please?” He used gestures to make his words as easy as possible to understand.

  Twarik shrugged and simply replied, “Tehalon.”

  “So we have to wait for Tehalon,” muttered Jaro. “Then I’ll just crawl into this hammock and hope he doesn’t see me.”

  A moment later they had climbed into their hammocks. They were actually comfortable, Tiuri realized. Twarik and Lian went away again, but he was sure they would remain nearby.

  Now he realized just how tired he was, and finally he would be able to have a peaceful night’s sleep. He could not imagine that the King of Eviellan was the ruler here as well – and that he might appear and take him prisoner once again.

  He dreamt he was drifting in a boat on the lake. Slowly he sank into its depths, but he was not afraid. All around him was green half-light; ragged plants waved to and fro, and fish looked at him with dimly gleaming eyes. He sank still deeper, darkness enveloping him… but suddenly it was torn apart by a bright light that shone in his face.

  He awoke slowly and reluctantly. Someone was leaning over him with a lantern. Startled, he tried to sit up, but the hammock rocked and he fell back into it.

  The figure held up a hand to block the light. Now it illuminated the figure’s face instead, which looked down at Tiuri like a ghostly mask, angular and weather-beaten. But still Tiuri recognized him. It was the Man in Green he had seen by the Black River, the man against whom not even Ardanwen had dared to protest. In the flickering light, his face looked even more mysterious, and not a little frightening.

  “W-what… is it?” stammered Tiuri.

  “Do you want to sleep? Or are you awake?” came the quiet response. “If you are awake, I would like to speak to you.”

  “I’m awake,” said Tiuri. He scrambled out of his hammock and stood swaying unsteadily.

  “Quietly, then,” whispered the Man in Green, taking Tiuri by the arm. “Come with me.”

  They walked for a way around the lake. The man blew out his lantern and Tiuri realized it was not completely dark. He could see the water, the slope on the opposite shore and the outline of the trees against the sky. As he looked at his companion, it dawned on him that he had spoken to him i
n his own language.

  “Who are you?” he asked. “And what do you want to tell me?”

  “We have seen each other before,” said the man. His voice was low and he spoke slowly and deliberately. “You were a knight with a white shield and you rode along the Black River on a black horse, captured by the Red Riders. You escaped the Tarnburg, with one of your companions. But the third man who is with you now is not the one with whom you came into the wood, but a servant of the knight who lives in the Tarnburg. The other one was not captured. Where did he go?”

  Piak! thought Tiuri. Oh, if only he knew what had happened to his friend. “I do not know,” he said. “But who are you?”

  “I watched you while you were sleeping,” came the reply, “and I decided to speak to you. Can you not guess who I am?” He stopped and let go of Tiuri’s arm.

  “Are you… Tehalon?” Tiuri asked quietly.

  “Yes, Tehalon, that is what the Men in Green call me. In your language that simply means ‘Master’. I am the Master of the Wild Wood.”

  4 THE MASTER OF THE WILD WOOD

  “B-but surely…” Tiuri stammered in surprise, trying in vain to see more of the other man’s face. “You… Tehalon… the Master of the Wild Wood? I thought that was the Lord of the Tarnburg.”

  “The Lord of the Tarnburg!” said Tehalon contemptuously. “You thought the knight who lives in the castle of my forefathers was the Master of the Wild Wood? Perhaps he thinks that himself, but he will go away and disappear. My sons will not even know his name. I have always been here. I was here when he came. I allowed him to take up residence in the castle I had abandoned… what did I care? He may call himself the Lord of the Tarnburg and imagine he is king here and ruler of this place. But it is I who am Master of the Wild Wood. I shall remain here and my sons after me, when he is long gone and forgotten.”

  Tiuri fell silent. Tehalon’s formidable personality made his words very believable, but still he had to take a moment to let everything sink in. It was not the King of Eviellan who commanded the Men in Green! And the Master of the Wild Wood had not spoken very kindly of him – and was anything but subservient.

  “Does this surprise you?” said Tehalon. “Strangers recently started to come into the Wild Wood, and they are all amazed to find out who lives here. And yet we have been here since time immemorial! But history becomes legend, and legends are forgotten. The song of the fortress by mountains and by rivers wide has not been sung outside this area for a long time.”

  “But it has!” said Tiuri. “I have heard of it. And about the lord who lived in the Tarnburg…”

  “And the wood that grew up and hid his castle,” Tehalon said, completing his sentence for him. “He forgot about the world and the world forgot about him. He was my ancestor. He came from the kingdom beyond the Great Mountains, at a time when they still spoke the language I speak, the language that has been forgotten now by everyone, except the Men in Green.”

  “No,” whispered Tiuri, “that language still exists, as the old secret language of King Unauwen and his paladins.”

  “You know more than I would have expected from someone of your age,” said Tehalon. “Well, now you also know that the Master of the Wild Wood never ceased to exist. His son and grandson lived on after him in the Tarnburg. But castles decay and become ruins, as trees grow and forests turn wilder. When I became Master of this forest, I left the Tarnburg and chose to live in the Green Grottos, near the source of the Green River. I do not live there alone. Many Men in Green are descendants of the followers of the first Lord of the Tarnburg. Others came later, seeking what I have found: peace, far from the wicked world.”

  “So what about now?” whispered Tiuri. “Now that the Red Riders have come here, and the Black Knight with the Red Shield?”

  “That will pass,” said Tehalon. “Their stay in my wood is for them only a stop on the way to somewhere else.”

  “But do you know why they are here?” asked Tiuri. “And what they want?”

  “I know everything that happens in my forest,” replied Tehalon. “That is why I said they will leave.”

  “And go where?” whispered Tiuri.

  “That is no concern of mine. They will not be here much longer – and that is as it should be, for they are filled with cruelty, anger and vengeance, and they have disturbed the peace of this place.”

  “So why did you tolerate their presence?” asked Tiuri.

  “I shall never use violence and lower myself to their way of behaving. We Men in Green wish to live in peace. We take up arms only to defend ourselves if attacked.”

  Tehalon looked at the trees, where Tiuri’s friends were sleeping. Two silhouettes crouched nearby on the shore of the lake: Lian and Twarik. Then he slowly climbed the slope and Tiuri walked with him, in silent wonder. In the east it was already getting light; the morning star was the only one still shining brightly.

  They stopped on the path, looking down at the valley. The lake lay down below, a patch of gleaming blackness. “Behold part of my domain,” said the Master of the Wild Wood, “part of the realm that still remains our own, between Green Hills and Green River. None may enter it without our permission and remain unpunished. But we will not turn away anyone who is pursued and seeks refuge. You and your companions are safe here. The power of the Red Riders counts for nothing in this place.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” said Tiuri softly. So the Men in Green really did mean them well. And yet he was still not entirely sure about them and he had many questions to ask.

  “Let me finish,” said Tehalon. “I am not saying we are pleased that you have come here. For you are entangled within the threads that have been spun in the Tarnburg – threads that are connected to the world outside the wood. And that world must remain outside of this forest!”

  “Why, my lord?” asked Tiuri. “You can’t prevent the world from entering the forest, can you? King Dagonaut…”

  “King Dagonaut lives far from here,” said Tehalon, interrupting him. “He rules over a large kingdom and the Wild Wood is a part of it – on his maps! In truth he cannot be the ruler here, because he does not even know of our existence. Understand me, young man, I do not wish to dispute Dagonaut’s power. I make no claim to a royal title. I am the Master of the Wild Wood. I know this place. I am part of it! The Men in Green have lived here for as long as the House of Dagonaut has existed.”

  “And when Dagonaut’s knights came into the wood, you allowed them to be murdered without raising a hand!” Tiuri began furiously.

  “No. We were not their enemies,” said Tehalon simply. “And we have nothing to do with other people’s fights. We wished only that it had not taken place in our wood, which should be a place of peace.”

  But Tiuri could no longer feel any sympathy for the peaceful Men in Green. “But you have allowed the Knight with the Red Shield to create a stronghold here,” he said. “You know who he is! He is wicked, dangerous – an enemy.”

  “Your enemy perhaps,” said Tehalon, “but not ours. We were wary when he came, although we did nothing. After a while, however, we made the condition that his men could not set foot in our territory between the hills and the river. That way we still had our peace. And we knew he would soon leave, or we would have had to drive him out. He does not like this wood; he longs for power over many people, over castles and cities of stone.”

  Tiuri stared at him. He could now vaguely see the hard, angular face. “And do you think it would be a good thing for him to gain that power?” he whispered.

  “I do not think it good,” said Tehalon calmly, “but I know the world cannot be changed. I know it! Always, war has just finished or is newly begun – even the realm of King Unauwen has been touched by its rot since his sons have come of age.” He gestured at Tiuri to remain silent. “I wanted to speak to you because I wished to find out more about you,” he said, “and now I know enough. You intend to fight the King of Eviellan, even though you have only just escaped from him. You’re caught up in this
struggle, involved in a quarrel that is not yours!”

  “But it is my quarrel,” Tiuri began.

  “No,” said Tehalon. “Let the Black Knight cross the mountains, so that the war between Eviellan and Unauwen can reach the conclusion that has long been written in the stars.”

  Tiuri was filled with fear. He could tell it would be very difficult to convince the Master of the Wild Wood that he had to choose a side.

  “Surely you cannot mean that, my lord!” he said.

  “Even before I had spoken to you, I knew you would cause me problems,” said Tehalon. He sat down and gave a gentle sigh, adding in a tone that was almost bored, “Go ahead, then. Say what you want to say.”

  Tiuri dropped down on the ground beside Tehalon and spoke to him. He told him what he knew and what he’d been through, and finished by saying that the King of Eviellan had to be opposed, that he could not be allowed to pass along the Road of Ambuscade.

  “What does it matter if he takes this road or another?” said Tehalon. “As long as he leaves the wood without causing any more conflict here? Then we shall soon forget him, and think: It is over.”

  The stars had become pale, the birds were chirping; day had dawned. For Tiuri, though, everything was still dark and grey.

  The Master of the Wild Wood had heard his words, but he had not listened. And, even worse, the man did not intend to let him go!

  “If the Road of Ambuscade is blocked on the other side of the mountains, the King of Eviellan will remain here,” Tehalon said. “And that would be a disaster for this forest. No, I cannot let you go, because if you tell your king what you know, Dagonaut’s knights are sure to come here. They will challenge the threat that resides in the Tarnburg… War will rage in the wood, and I cannot allow that to happen!”

  He took a long look at Tiuri, who was still sitting beside him. His face was as impassive as ever, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t really know what to do with you,” he added. “The Men in Green never take prisoners. But we shall have to keep you here long enough for you to realize that your efforts are pointless.” He stood up and started to walk.