It took Tiuri and Piak some time to find Tirillo. He was standing in the middle of the square, with a crowd of people around him. As he sang for them, he moved his head and hands so that the bells on his cap and gloves formed a jingling accompaniment to his song. When he saw Tiuri and Piak, he stopped singing and came over to them.
“Don’t go, Tirillo!” the crowd called. “Please, sing another song for us!”
“Not now,” said the jester. “I must take these young people to the palace and the king is expecting me.”
Everyone turned to look at Tiuri and Piak. “Who are they?” someone asked.
“They come from the land of King Dagonaut,” said Tirillo, “and they could tell you a great deal. But they shall not do so, as they are coming with me.” He linked arms with Tiuri and Piak and walked back to the palace with them. “I just sang for them a little,” he whispered. “One of the few things I can do to help.”
When they were back at the palace, he took them to the king, who was not alone this time. Sir Marwen was with him. King Unauwen introduced Tiuri and Piak to the knight and kindly invited them to sit. Tirillo poured five glasses of wine and joined them, sitting at the king’s feet. Tiuri saw that Sir Marwen was wearing a ring like Sir Edwinem’s and realized that he too must be one of the king’s most faithful paladins.
“I sent for you,” said Unauwen, “so that I could talk to you once again and hear more about your adventures. Do not be shy. Please speak freely.”
And the two friends told their tale, first in brief, but then in greater detail. The king listened attentively and asked plenty of questions. He heard more of their story than they would later tell anyone else. They also talked about the old man who had called Tiuri out of the chapel. It had, of course, been Vokia, Sir Edwinem’s squire.
King Unauwen asked Tiuri to try to find Vokia once he was back in the Kingdom of Dagonaut. “Be sure that Vokia receives everything he might wish for,” he said. “I hope he will be capable of travelling back here or to Forèstèrra. But I fear that his age and his grief at his master’s death will have weakened him.”
Then he said, “I thank you once again, Tiuri and Piak. I would like to reward you for what you have done, but there is no suitable gift I could give you.”
“Oh, but that is not necessary, sire,” said Tiuri.
The king smiled. “I am aware of that,” he replied. “But I intend to give you a token as a reminder, although I am sure you will never forget your experiences. Sir Marwen, would you pass me the swords?”
The knight handed two very fine swords to the king.
“One for each of you,” said the king. “These swords have been in my family for many centuries.”
“They are over a thousand years old,” said Sir Marwen, “but they are still just as sharp as the day they were made.”
The king presented the swords to the friends. “Use them only for a righteous cause,” he said. “And here is a ring for each of you… just a small, simple ring. Not the kind of ring my trusty paladins wear; you are still too young for that. I give these rings to all my men after they have been knighted and even though you are not my knights, you too shall receive one.”
Tiuri and Piak thanked him.
“One more thing,” said the king. “You told me, Tiuri, that Ardanwen has accepted you as his master. So from now on he shall be your horse.”
“Thank you, sire,” said Tiuri, delighted.
“You need not thank me for that,” said the king. “I cannot give Ardanwen away. That horse chooses his own master. Is that not so, Sir Marwen?”
“Yes, sire,” he replied. “Just like Idanwen, the Dawn Wind, my own horse and Ardanwen’s brother.” He gave Tiuri a friendly nod.
King Unauwen stood up. Tiuri realized the conversation was over and he also rose to his feet. Piak followed his example.
“Is there anything you would like to ask me?” said the king, looking at Tiuri.
How did he know? Tiuri thought.
And then, somewhat hesitantly, he said, “Y… Yes, sire.”
“What is it?”
“Sire, what was in the letter I brought to you?” asked Tiuri. He immediately regretted his words. It felt disrespectful to ask about something that was clearly a secret.
But the king did not seem angry. “I do not wish to talk about that as yet,” he said in a most serious tone. “But you shall know soon enough. Perhaps even tomorrow.”
“A sword!” said Piak, gazing at it in awe. “A real sword! And what a sword!”
“It’s magnificent,” said Tiuri. “Look, it has figures engraved on it, and the name of King Unauwen.”
“To be honest, I think it’s a bit of a creepy thing to have,” said Piak. “I don’t know if I like the idea of going around with a sword myself. It seems more like something I might hang above the bed and look at every now and then. But I shall always wear the ring.”
They were sitting together on the edge of the fountain in the small courtyard.
“What do you really think of all this?” Piak asked Tiuri.
“Why don’t you tell me what you think, Piak?”
“Oh, it’s wonderful, beautiful, but still I don’t feel entirely at home here. Maybe it’s all just too much for me. All those knights with their white shields and sparkling rings. And then there’s the king himself! What do you think of him?”
“He is a great king,” said Tiuri slowly. “He is old, and yet he is strong and valiant, a powerful ruler but still with a ready smile, a man who inspires awe, and yet who is not at all proud or arrogant.”
“He still reminds me so much of Menaures,” said Piak. “That’s why he doesn’t make me feel shy. Otherwise I’m sure I would have been.”
“Yes,” said Tiuri. “The hermit certainly looks a lot like him, or he looks like the hermit.”
“Is King Dagonaut like King Unauwen, too?” asked Piak.
“No,” Tiuri replied. “King Dagonaut’s younger. He is a warrior and he is stern, but just. He is, I think, perhaps not as… not as wise as King Unauwen. But it is hard to judge such men. Dagonaut is my king, my country’s king. I love him, I respect him, and I wish to serve as his knight.”
“Well, you’ll be able to do that soon, won’t you?” said Piak.
Tiuri thought back to what Slither had said, but he kept quiet.
“Would you like to be a knight of Unauwen,” asked Piak, “and carry a white shield?”
“Yes,” replied Tiuri, “I would. But if I become a knight, I would have to be a knight of Dagonaut; his kingdom is my home.”
“I don’t know if I would want to be a knight,” said Piak, thinking aloud. “I’m just an ordinary boy. I feel so clumsy in chainmail and I look ridiculous with a sword in my hand. But perhaps, as Warmin said, you get used to it.”
At that point, they spotted Tirillo coming towards them.
“I have come to take you out,” he said. “Something different from this palace full of knights and lords for a change.” He gave Piak a wink.
Tiuri wondered if Tirillo was a mind reader or if he had heard their conversation.
“I can read minds,” said the jester. “You should watch out; I am a dangerous man. So do you want to come? Then take your swords to your room. You may wear them tomorrow. That is when King Unauwen is planning to address his priests and his paladins, his knights and his councillors. The two of you are also expected to attend.”
“Where do you want to go?” asked Piak.
“Out on the river for a while.”
Piak frowned.
“Oh, the White River’s nothing like the Rainbow River!” Tirillo laughed. “And my boat doesn’t leak. Come with me. The sun’s shining and there’s a fresh wind from the west, a sea breeze. I asked the kitchen to make a lunch for us; we can eat it on the water.”
A short time later, the friends stepped into Tirillo’s boat. It was a beautiful boat, painted in bright colours.
“I shall row downstream,” said Tirillo. “You can row back upstream later. You’re sturdy young lads, strong and muscular, and I am just a puny jester.”
He pulled off his gloves and started rowing. Tiuri held the rudder. The jester told Piak he didn’t need to do anything until he got over his fear.
“I’m not scared at all!” said Piak indignantly. “I think it’s wonderful.”
And it was wonderful. The water gleamed in the sunshine and the wind blew through their hair. Tiuri felt light and happy, far from all responsibility and duties.
The river looped around the palace and to the west. They saw another bridge ahead, with a gate beyond it.
“The White River flows through that gate and out of the city,” Tirillo told them, “and then onwards to the sea.”
“To the sea…” murmured Piak. “I’ve never seen the sea. What does it look like?”
“Water,” said Tirillo. “Salty water. Waves as far as you can see, and beyond, until the end of the world. If you floated along with the current, you’d end up at the sea. But it’d take you a couple of days.”
Tiuri thought that he would rather like to do that. He had never seen the sea before either. Sir Edwinem’s castle, Forèstèrra, was by the sea…
He looked at Tirillo and suddenly noticed something: a ring on his left hand. The stone sparkled as he moved the oars. Surprised, Tiuri leant closer and said, “You have one of those rings… the kind that Sir Marwen and the toll master wear, and Sir Edwinem!”
Tirillo smiled. “That’s right,” he said. “When King Unauwen gave it to me, he said, ‘One does not need to carry a sword and a shield to be a knight.’”
“Yes,” said Tiuri. “Yes, of course.”
It was true. Why should a jester not be among the king’s most faithful paladins? Tirillo was worthy of such a ring. He knew how to cheer people up when they were downhearted, and that was a gift few people shared.