Now Sir Tiuri was riding along the Grey River, on Ardanwen, of course, the black horse whose name meant Night Wind in the old language of the Kingdom of Unauwen. The young knight had a helmet on his head and a sword hanging at his side, and the tunic over his armour was blue and gold, the colours of Tehuri. His shield, though, was white, like those of the knights from the west. Tiuri was proud of that shield and so he had taken it on his journey.
Piak rode beside him, on a horse as brown as his own hair. Anyone who had known him before, when he still lived up in the mountains, would hardly have recognized him now that he was a squire.
Old Waldo had been proved right; the weather had stayed cold, and that had not made their journey any easier. But now their goal was close. They saw castles and strongholds on both sides of the river, “watching and spying on one another”, as Piak put it. The water was all that separated them from Eviellan, the land of the evil Red Riders, where the knights carried shields of black or red. They had seen no sign of any inhabitants of Eviellan, though.
“They pay no attention to us,” a knight had told them at a castle where they stopped for the night. “Eviellan’s eyes are focused only on the Kingdom of Unauwen. I have heard rumours of a great battle that was fought there, but I do not know the outcome.”
Tiuri had asked if there was any news of Sir Ristridin. Was he already back at his castle? But the knight, like everyone else they had encountered along the way, had been unable to answer that question.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” said Piak, when they spotted distant towers that could only be Castle Ristridin. “All of these castles look so alike, don’t they? Big and made of stone, with thick walls and battlements. I don’t like them much, although they can be quite pleasant inside.” He let go of the reins for a moment and rubbed his hands, which were blue with cold. A little later, he called out, “Look! I can see something else in the distance over there. Mountains!”
Yes, far to the west of them rose the hazy summits of the Great Mountains, almost indistinguishable from the grey clouds above.
“We’re riding along the Third Great Road to the west now,” said Tiuri. “It leads through a mountain pass and into the Kingdom of Unauwen.”
“And we travelled along some of the First Great Road last year,” said Piak, “past Castle Mistrinaut. So where’s the Second Great Road?”
“The Second Great Road,” replied Tiuri, “has practically disappeared. It’s been overgrown by the Wild Wood.”
“I can see a forest, too,” said Piak. “Do you think that’s the Wild Wood?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve heard it’s more to the west.”
“Sir Ristridin may be able to tell us more about it soon,” said Piak. “Do you know I almost feel like I know him? Even though I’ve never met him in my life. You’ve told me so much about them, about Ristridin and Bendu, and Arwaut and Evan. See, I remember all of their names.”
“And we’re going to meet Sir Arturin, too,” said Tiuri, “Ristridin’s brother. I don’t know him either, but he’s to be our host.”
They reached the castle towards evening. The lookout at the top of one of the towers had sounded his horn to announce their arrival. Creaking, the drawbridge came down. As they rode across, one of the doors in the gate opened slowly and a group of four armed guards appeared.
“It seems they don’t just let their guests wander in, eh?” Piak whispered to Tiuri.
Tiuri greeted the guards. “We come as friends,” he said, “and we ask for hospitality. Sir Tiuri, and Piak, his squire.”
“Sir Tiuri?” repeated one of the guards. “So you’ve not come from the west? But you’re carrying a white shield, like a knight of Unauwen, and you’re far younger than I believed Tiuri the Valiant to be.”
“I am his son,” said Tiuri. “Tiuri with the White Shield. I am here at the invitation of Sir Ristridin.”
“Sir Ristridin!” cried the guard. “Do you bring news of him?!”
“No,” said Tiuri. “Has he not returned?”
“But he was supposed to come here in the spring.”
“That’s true,” said the guard, “but he has not yet arrived. Sir Bendu is also waiting for him; he arrived the day before yesterday. Please enter, Tiuri, son of Tiuri. I shall have your arrival announced to Sir Arturin.”
Soon the two friends were standing before Sir Arturin, the lord of the castle, who greeted them warmly. “Welcome, Sir Tiuri,” he said, “and you too, young squire. A fire burns in the hearth, and food is ready. I also welcome you in the name of my brother, who I believe invited you here.”
Tiuri didn’t think that Sir Arturin resembled his brother Ristridin at all. He was shorter than the knight-errant and nowhere near as lean; they just shared the same curly hair.
Now another man came over to Tiuri and Piak, a large, dark-haired man with a beard.
“Sir Bendu!” cried Tiuri.
“The very same,” the man said, shaking Tiuri’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, Tiuri. And I note that what I predicted has now come to pass: you are a knight, as is only right and proper.” He turned to Piak, who was standing there, looking a little awkward. “And who might you be?” he asked.
“This is Piak, my best friend,” said Tiuri. “He was my guide through the mountains and my travelling companion in the Kingdom of Unauwen. Now he is my squire.”
Bendu shook Piak’s hand, too, so firmly that Piak winced. Then Bendu spoke to Tiuri, “Do you bring news of Ristridin?”
“It’s been a few months since I saw him,” Tiuri replied. “Just before he went to the Wild Wood.”
“Oh,” said Bendu, clearly disappointed.
“As you can see, he has not yet returned,” said Sir Arturin. “But he is no longer in the Wild Wood either.”
“He isn’t?” said Tiuri. “So where is he? And what happened to him in the forest?”
“We know very little about it,” replied Arturin. “And we have no idea of his whereabouts now. He left the Wild Wood in the winter; a messenger from Islan brought me the news. Castle Islan is close to the Wild Wood, as you probably know. Ristridin passed by the castle and asked the lord there to send messages to King Dagonaut and to me. He intended to travel on to other parts, where there was more for a knight to do. He said the paths in the Wild Wood were dead ends or led to ruins of towns and villages that were abandoned long ago.”
“That may be so,” said Bendu, “but I still think he could at least have said where he meant to go. Does the Lord of Islan truly have no idea?”
“I wrote him a letter,” said Sir Arturin. “He replied to say that was all he knew. Ristridin did not even enter his castle. He was in a hurry and heading eastwards.” Arturin fell silent, a frown on his face.
“Why not to the south?” said Bendu. “He had a mission to carry out there!”
“A mission?” repeated Tiuri. Then suddenly he understood. Like Bendu, Ristridin had sworn to punish the Black Knight with the Red Shield – the leader of the Red Riders and the man who had murdered their friend Edwinem. That knight fought with his visor closed. No one knew who he was or what he looked like.
“Have you just returned from Eviellan?” Tiuri asked. “What happened there? Did you find the Knight with the Red Shield?”
“Did I find him? I can’t tell you how many such knights I found!” Bendu replied gruffly. “Eviellan is full of knights, and most wear black armour and nearly all of them have red shields. Whenever I met such a knight, I called him to account for Edwinem’s death – but they all denied knowing anything about it. I fought twelve duels but, unless I am very much mistaken, I did not defeat the man I was looking for.”
“They must have been very pleased to see you in Eviellan,” said Sir Arturin in a slightly sarcastic tone.
“They were certainly happy to see the back of me,” said Bendu. “But that will not hinder me in my search for that dishonourable knight! I am here now because it is what Ristridin and I agreed, and I hope he will soon accompany me to the south. Two men will have more chance than one of finding that murderer.”
“You will never succeed,” said Arturin. “The King of Eviellan will expel you from his land as an undesirable outsider. That is at least what I would do were I in his place. Why do you personally feel the need to avenge Edwinem’s death? That is surely the responsibility of the men from the west. Edwinem was a knight of Unauwen, was he not? So let King Unauwen punish his murderer!”
“Sir, I do not like your words!” growled Bendu. “Edwinem of Forèstèrra was my friend. It does not matter to me that he came from a different country! Ristridin, Arwaut, Evan and I have sworn to avenge his death, and I certainly intend to keep my word.”
“As you wish,” said Arturin, shrugging his shoulders. “But perhaps you are the only one who has not yet forgotten that oath – or rather, who has not realized its futility. The four of you went your separate ways months ago, as there were more important things to do. I suspect you will have to continue your quest for revenge on your own. Ristridin and Arwaut are not here, and Evan has not yet arrived either.”
“A man who forgets his oath loses his honour,” said Bendu.
Tiuri and Piak looked at each other. It seemed as if the two knights were about to start arguing. However, Arturin put an end to the discussion by inviting his guests to sit by the fire and drink a glass of wine with him.
Soon it was time to dine. Many of the castle residents came to join them, and Tiuri and Piak were introduced to Arturin’s wife and to their young son, who shared his father’s name. Sir Bendu did not say another word. He was generally taciturn and never particularly jovial, but now he really seemed to be brooding over something. Perhaps that was why Tiuri found the atmosphere in the room so gloomy. Piak was also sitting too far away. As a knight, Tiuri had been seated close to the lord of the castle, while his friend was with the other squires and servants. Tiuri wasn’t pleased about the seating arrangements, but it was a custom that knights rarely abandoned.
Towards the end of the meal, Bendu seemed to muster his energies. He started talking about the Wild Wood again and wondered why they had heard nothing from his nephew Arwaut.
“I think he must have gone with Ristridin,” said Arturin. He said he had received just one letter from his brother, dated on the eleventh day of the wine month, October, of the previous year. The message had been brief (“Ristridin has never been much of a writer,” Arturin explained). Ristridin had written to tell him that the knights had found a robbers’ hideout somewhere between the Green River and the Black River. “They were living in some old ruins,” Arturin told them. “Ristridin and his men fought them and overpowered them. Then the robbers were sent as prisoners to King Dagonaut, along with a message that Ristridin, Arwaut and their companions were all fine. The letter to me was a copy of that dispatch. It also said the knights were planning to head deeper into the forest, to the west, to look for the Men in Green.”
“The Men in Green?” asked Tiuri. “Who are they?”
“The Men in Green,” replied Bendu, “live between the Green River and the Green Hills. That’s what the woodcutters and hunters say, and I once heard it from a monk, too. Some people say they’re very tall and beautiful, while others claim they’re squat little monsters, like gnomes. That’s why I don’t believe they exist. As far as I know, a person is either big or small, not both at the same time.”
“Perhaps they’re not people,” said Arturin. “Who knows what might be living out there in those wildernesses where no godly man has ever set foot?”
Bendu looked sceptical. “Whatever the case, there is no way Ristridin met them,” he said. “Otherwise he would certainly have let us know! In fact, nothing of any import could have happened… as is evident from the fact that we have received no word from him.”
He looked at Arturin as if waiting for him to agree.
However, the lord of the castle remained silent and frowned down at his plate. “Well,” he said finally, “there is nothing we can do but wait for him to return, as he promised he would.”
“Let us hope he does not take too long about it,” muttered Bendu.
Tiuri looked at Arturin, then Bendu, and thought: Yes, let’s hope he gets here soon. The mood is not going to improve until Sir Ristridin comes home.