The Mask Wearer Page 3

  Along the way to Bratel-la-Grande, Amos and his parents passed through two small villages, where a heavy and threatening silence hovered in the air. In the streets, around the houses, everywhere, all they saw were stone statues—men, women, and children frozen in fright. Amos climbed off his horse and touched a man’s face. It was smooth and hard, cold and lifeless. He was obviously the blacksmith. His arm was raised in midair, a hammer in his hand, and he seemed ready to strike something in front of him. His beard, hair, and clothes had been turned to stone. Several other people were similarly petrified in mid-motion; the rest were lying lifeless on the ground. Even dogs poised to attack were frozen.

  Something or someone had come to these villages and cast a spell over every inhabitant. Terror was clearly visible on the faces of all these human statues. Pigs, chickens, mules, and cats had also been turned to stone.

  Unexpectedly, a big gray tomcat, obviously very old, came out of a woodpile and moved slowly toward the travelers. He seemed to be sniffing the scent of the newcomers. Amos approached the animal. He took it in his arms and noticed right away that the cat was blind. Why hadn’t this cat fallen under the spell? Amos wondered. The explanation seemed obvious: the cat’s blindness had saved it, which meant that looking at the enemy had turned the people and animals to stone.

  In fact, after taking a closer look, Amos realized that there wasn’t simply one enemy; there were several. The ground was covered with many strange footprints: triangular footprints, ending with three long toes, were clearly visible all around. On closer inspection, Amos noticed that a membrane linked the toes together. These creatures likely stood on two legs, and were web-footed like ducks.

  Urban entreated his son to mount his horse again. This place made him uneasy and the sun was about to set. Frilla held on to the blind cat that Amos had placed in her arms, and the family left this ill-fated place to go to the kingdom’s capital.

  Bratel-la-Grande was an impressive city. Built in the center of an agricultural plain, it was surrounded by high gray stone walls that made it impregnable to any army. All around the farmed lands was a huge forest. From the top of the lookout towers, the sentinels could easily detect an enemy a mile away. An imposing iron grate protected the huge city gates.

  Five sentries, wearing shining armor and holding shields decorated with a radiant sun, stopped the travelers. Urban gave his name and mentioned Barthelemy, as the knight had advised him to do. The sentries seemed satisfied.

  “The gates remain open during the daytime, so as a security measure we open the iron grate only twice a day, at sunrise and sunset,” one of the sentries said. “The peasants who work the land nearby will return home soon, before the sun sets in an hour. You’ll be able to enter into town with them. In the meantime, take a break. We have food and drink. Help yourselves—the food is on the large rock over here. Welcome to Bratel-la Grande, travelers! May the light shine on you!”

  Grateful, the Daragon family thanked the sentry and went to the rock. Amos helped himself to an apple and some chestnuts and sat near the iron grate to look inside the town. There was a lot of activity, with citizens coming and going and knights patrolling the streets. It almost seemed as if the residents were getting ready for battle. In the town square, not far from the gates that the Daragons were soon to enter, ashes of what had been a large fire were still smoking. Amos asked one of the sentries why such a big fire had been lit in daylight.

  “We burned a witch this morning,” the sentry said. “You must have seen what happened in the villages you crossed. Our ruler, Yaune the Purifier, thinks we’re dealing with the evil spell of a sorcerer. Our men are searching the forest to catch the culprit. All those who practice some kind of witchcraft are placed on the pyre and burned alive. Just this week, seven people have died in this manner, including a few humanimals.”

  Amos asked what a humanimal was. He had never heard the word.

  “They’re humans who are able to transform themselves into animals,” the sentry explained. “When I was very young, people talked a lot about humanimals. Now it’s more a legend than a reality.” He shrugged. “I never believed those stories, and I doubt that the man and woman who died this morning had such an ability. Our ruler must feel very helpless. No one knows what is really happening in the kingdom. Every night, we hear awful noises coming from the forest. The residents don’t sleep much. Everyone lives in fear when night comes. I don’t know what to think of all this myself.” He shook his head. “Well, it’s time now to open the iron grate. Good-bye, young man. May the light shine on you!”

  “May the light shine on you as well!” Amos answered.

  The peasants entered Bratel-la-Grande, followed by the Daragon family. Urban, Frilla, and Amos immediately searched for a place to spend the night. They found an inn called the Goat’s Head. It was a dark, disquieting place. The walls were gray and dirty. There were a few tables, a long bar, and several customers talking to each other. The atmosphere seemed sinister to the Daragons when they walked in. They knew full well that they were being stared at from head to toe.

  A pleasant smell of warm soup wafted from the kitchen, and Amos was nearly drooling when they sat down at a table. The chatter started again and no one paid them any more attention. After a few minutes, Urban called the innkeeper over. The man did not move from behind the bar.

  “There’s a wonderful smell coming from your kitchen!” Frilla said, trying to get his attention. “We’d like to eat and sleep here tonight.”

  The man still did not budge. He simply went on talking with the other customers, not bothering to glance at the Daragons. When the family finally decided to leave, the innkeeper winked to his regular customers.

  “One moment,” he shouted. “You must pay before you head out!”

  “We did not eat, we did not drink, sir,” Urban answered. “So why should we have to pay?”

  “Be informed that we don’t wait on strangers here,” the innkeeper said, beaming with satisfaction. “Yet you’ve enjoyed the aroma of my cooking, for which you must pay. Did you imagine that you could indulge your hunger and not give me a few coins?”

  The other customers burst into laughter. Obviously they were used to hearing the innkeeper extort money from unsuspecting travelers.

  “You must pay or go to jail!” the innkeeper went on.

  Urban refused to open his purse. Three men got up, clubs in their hands, and went to block the exit.

  “Go and bring back a knight,” the innkeeper told one of his friends. “We have a problem here.”

  A few minutes later, the friend returned with a knight. It was Barthelemy.

  “What is going on this time?” asked the weary knight as he walked in.

  “These thieves want to leave without paying,” said the innkeeper. “They inhaled the fragrance of my soup and refuse to pay for it. This is my inn and I can sell whatever I please, even a smell, isn’t that so?”

  Barthelemy recognized the Daragon family.

  “You came to the wrong place, my friends,” he told them. “This inn is probably the worst one in all of Bratel-la-Grande. According to our laws, this man is right; all travelers who stop at the Goat’s Head are swindled in the same way. He uses our laws to his advantage. He’s a crook and there is nothing I can do about it. I must make sure that this man is paid for the kitchen smells you enjoyed. I must also tell you that in case of a dispute, the knights will judge the case. I counsel you to give him something and leave. There is nothing I can do for you.”

  “Very well,” Amos said with a sigh. “We will pay the innkeeper.”

  The whole assembly erupted in laughter again. The trick always worked, and the regular customers always watched the scene unfold with glee.

  Amos took his father’s purse. “We have exactly six gold coins,” he told the innkeeper. “Will that be enough to pay for the scent of a soup that we did not taste?”

  Delighted, the innkeeper rubbed his hands. “But of course, young man! It’s the perfect sum!”<
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  Amos shook the purse and jingled the coins close to the scoundrel’s ear.

  “Just as we inhaled the smell of a soup that we did not eat,” he said, “now you are paid in kind with the sound of coins that you’ll never pocket.”

  Barthelemy laughed loudly. “I believe that this boy has just settled his and his parents’ debt right in front of my eyes!” he exclaimed.

  The innkeeper stood openmouthed. He was humiliated. He had been outwitted by a child.

  Amos and his parents left, accompanied by Barthelemy. As soon as they were outside the inn, all four of them laughed heartily. However, inside the inn, a profound silence had replaced the mocking laughter.

  —4—

  BEORF

  At the suggestion of their new friend Barthelemy, Amos and his parents settled in a nice inn owned by the knight’s mother. They were happy to be able to rest at last. The old blind cat they had adopted lost no time finding a cozy corner to sleep in.

  Urban also found a job at the inn. The roof needed to be replaced. After his father’s death, Barthelemy had become the inn’s caretaker, but in spite of his goodwill, he wasn’t very handy; Urban gladly agreed to take care of whatever needed to be fixed. To compensate him, a large, comfortable, sunny room was put at the Daragons’ disposal. And since Frilla agreed to help in the kitchen, the family was also fed. This arrangement suited the Daragons, who quickly settled into their new dwelling.

  The inn was named the Shield and the Sword. It was the favorite meeting place of the knights of Bratel-la-Grande. They gathered there to drink, talk about their recent battles, and play cards. From sunrise to late in the night, there was always someone to narrate a warlike feat, boast about his exploits, or simply relax between two missions. Barbarians from the north regularly invaded the kingdom, and serious battles were commonplace. Barthelemy’s father, who had been a great knight, had been killed in battle. His victories were still recounted often. He remained alive in the memory of his companions in arms, and the stories of his prowess moved his widow to tears every time.

  When passing through Bratel-la-Grande, the knights of neighboring kingdoms always stopped at the Shield and the Sword to discuss the latest news and to boast of their dexterity with sabers. It was a lively spot, always swarming with people, where laughter and the most incredible stories could be heard at any time of the day.

  The inn was spacious, well kept, and surrounded by magnificent rosebushes. Located a fair distance from the center of town, this dark redbrick two-story house had a lot of charm. Yaune the Purifier, lord of Bratel-la-Grande and master of the Knights of Light, often came here to relax or talk with his men. For someone as inquisitive as Amos, being in the hub of everything that was happening in the kingdom was a dream come true.

  The knights often talked about the curse that had fallen over several of the villages. No one could explain how the residents had been transformed into stone statues. So as a measure of security, the knights had encouraged all villagers to evacuate to Bratel-la-Grande. Those who had not heeded the warnings fell victim to the terrible curse. In fact, the scourge struck everyone who spent the night outside the walls of the capital.

  In town it was rumored that an army sent by a neighboring kingdom to lend a helping hand had been turned to stone in the forest. Cavalry detachments regularly saw stonelike owls, deer, and wolves. And from the depths of the forest, piercing shrieks were nightly occurrences that froze the blood of the residents. Every night the shrieks seemed to get a little closer to the fortified walls of the capital.

  The knights had to confront an invisible enemy that hid deep in the darkness. This hostile force was so powerful that it seemed invincible. It was hard to believe that only one individual was responsible. But none of the victims was able to say a word about the physical appearance or motive of this unseen enemy. Like everyone else in town, Barthelemy and his companions were alarmed, and Yaune the Purifier seemed to be resorting to drastic measures when he burned supposed witches and magicians. It was hard to know how to fight this obscure danger that threatened all living creatures in the kingdom.

  A week had gone by since Amos and his parents had arrived in Bratel-la-Grande. Although they enjoyed their surroundings, they knew that they had already spent too much time in town and so decided to resume their journey to the woods of Tarkasis.

  The story of how Amos had outsmarted the innkeeper at the Goat’s Head had spread rapidly among the town’s knights. Barthelemy particularly enjoyed telling his companions how a boy had rendered the dishonest innkeeper speechless. Strangers frequently bowed to Amos to congratulate him for putting the crooked man in his place.

  Amos took long walks in town. He strolled along, casually discovering the small streets and the tiny shops of craftsmen. A large market was held every morning in the center of town, right in front of Yaune the Purifier’s huge fortified castle. One day, as Amos stood in the marketplace, he saw a boy walking on all fours under the merchants’ stalls. He was maybe a little older than Amos, as plump as a young pig, and had long straight blond hair. In spite of his large bottom and his rolls of fat, he moved with remarkable agility. Quick as lightning, his hands grabbed fruit, pieces of meat, sausages, and bread loaves without being noticed. Once his bag was full, the boy left the marketplace.

  Curious, Amos decided to follow him. He noticed then that the young thief had thick sideburns. The boy quickly turned around a street corner and walked toward one of the town’s fortified walls, located far from any dwellings. Once at the foot of the wall, he looked around furtively and promptly vanished. Amos could not believe his eyes. He approached the spot where the boy had stopped, and discovered a deep hole. The boy had likely jumped into the hole, which would explain his sudden disappearance.

  In turn, Amos jumped into the hole. At the bottom he saw that a long tunnel had been roughly scooped out under the wall. He followed it and came out on the other side, in the high grass of the plain. Standing on his toes, Amos looked around, trying to spot the boy. He saw him for only one brief second before he disappeared again, at the far edge of the forest. How was it possible for such a heavy person to move so quickly? Amos wondered. In just a few minutes, the boy had crossed the field as fast as a galloping horse. Even more incredible was that he was still carrying his huge bag of stolen goods.

  Running as fast as he could, Amos went to the edge of the forest. On the ground, under a canopy of trees, he noticed strange marks. These consisted of footprints—and also of handprints. Was the heavyset boy moving on all fours in the forest? Farther down, the prints changed to that of a young bear. Amos thought there was only one answer to this enigma: he had followed a humanimal. It was the only thing that could explain the boy’s agility, strength, and speed. Young bears were fast and powerful creatures. It would also explain why the strange fugitive had so much hair on his face.

  Amos rejoiced to think that humanimals were not legendary creatures after all. They really existed! There truly were humans capable of morphing into an animal at will. He knew that very few humans possessed this fantastic gift.

  Amos remembered the two humanimals who the sentry had told him had been burned in the town square of Bratel-la-Grande. He reached the sad conclusion that a young person who steals food to survive probably has no parents to take care of him. And he knew that only one explanation was possible: the Knights of Light had killed this boy’s parents. The knights had probably seen them change from humans to animals, and had wrongly assumed that if a human could transform himself or herself into a beast, he or she could also turn people to stone.

  I must find this boy and speak to him, Amos decided.

  With the mermaid’s trident slung across his shoulder, Amos entered the forest and followed the humanimal’s tracks. After an hour’s walk, he reached a small clearing. The prints in the ground led him to a cozy round cottage made of wood. All around the house were many beehives, with thousands of buzzing bees.

  “Is anyone home?” Amos shouted in a friendly manne
r. “Answer me. I don’t come as an enemy. I followed your tracks, young bear, and I would very much like to talk to you.”

  No one replied. In fact, with the exception of the bees, Amos didn’t hear a sound. He took the trident in one hand and carefully approached the house. To his surprise, it had no windows. He knocked on the door.

  “My name is Amos Daragon! I would like to speak to someone!” he shouted again.

  There was still no answer. Amos pushed the door open gently, took a look around the room, and went in slowly. A strong smell of musk—of a wild animal—hit his nostrils. On a stool, Amos saw the flickering light of a small candle. In the middle of the room, a dying fire was still smoking a little. Daylight came in through an opening in the center of the roof that let out the smoke of the fireplace. On a low wooden table were a piece of bread and a jar of honey. Near the door, close to him, Amos saw the large bag of food with its stolen contents.

  Suddenly, in a great commotion, the table was whisked off its legs and went flying into the air. It crashed against a wall and came tumbling to the ground. At that instant, a blond-colored bear jumped over Amos and, seething with anger, pushed him out of the house with one paw. In less than a second, the beast was on top of him, crushing him with all his weight. As the bear was about to slash Amos’s face with its razor-sharp claws, Amos got hold of his trident and pointed it at the animal’s throat. With each one threatening to kill the other, both fighters stopped moving. The bees, now ready to fight, had gathered in a cloud right over the bear’s head. Amos quickly realized that the animal exercised a power over the insects. The beast was growling orders to his flying army.