Tiuri knelt on the stone floor of the chapel, staring at the pale flame of the candle in front of him.?What time was it? He was supposed to be reflecting seriously upon the duties he would have to perform once he was a knight, but his mind kept wandering. And sometimes he found that he wasn’t thinking about anything at all. He wondered if his friends felt the same.
He glanced across at Foldo and Arman, at Wilmo and Jussipo. Foldo and Wilmo were gazing at their candles, while Arman had buried his face in his hands. Jussipo was kneeling with a straight back and staring up at the ceiling, but then he changed position and looked Tiuri right in the eyes. Tiuri turned his head away and fixed his gaze on the candle again.
What was Jussipo thinking about?
Wilmo moved, scraping his shoe on the floor. The others all looked in his direction. Wilmo hung his head and looked a little embarrassed.
It’s so quiet, thought Tiuri.
I’ve never known such quietness in my entire life. All I can hear is our breathing, and maybe, if I listen carefully, the beating of my own heart... The five young men were not permitted to say anything to one another, not even a word, all night long. They were also forbidden to have any contact at all with the outside world. They had locked the chapel door behind them and would not open it again until the next morning, at seven o’clock, when King Dagonaut’s knights would come to fetch them.
Tomorrow morning! Tiuri could already picture the celebratory procession: the knights on their magnificently caparisoned horses, with their colourful shields and fluttering banners. He imagined himself among them, riding a fine steed, clad in shining armour, with a helmet and a waving plume. But then he shook his head to rid himself of that vision. He knew he should not be thinking about the external trappings of knighthood, but instead vowing to be chivalrous and honest, brave and true.
The candlelight made his eyes hurt. He looked at the altar, where the five swords lay waiting. The shields hung above the altar, gleaming in the flickering light of the candles.
Tomorrow there will be two knights bearing the same coat of arms, thought Tiuri.
Father and myself. His father’s name was also Tiuri and he was known as Tiuri the Valiant. Was he lying awake now, thinking about his son? Tiuri hoped he would become as worthy a knight as his father.
Then another thought occurred to him. What if someone were to knock at the door? He and his companions would not be permitted to open it. Tiuri remembered something that Sir Fantumar, whose squire he had been, had once told him. During his own vigil in the chapel, there had been a loud knocking at the door. Fantumar had been there with three other young men, and none of them had opened up. And it was just as well, because they later discovered that it had been one of the king’s servants, who had wanted to put them to the test.
Tiuri looked again at his friends. They were still kneeling in the same position. He knew it must be after midnight. His candle had almost burnt down; it was the shortest of the five. Perhaps it was because he was sitting by a window. The chapel was a draughty place and he could feel a chilly gust of air.
When my candle goes out, he thought,
I won’t light another one. The others wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark, which was an appealing thought, and he wasn’t worried that he might fall asleep.
Had Wilmo dozed off? No, he just shifted position, so he must be awake.
I’m not spending my vigil as I should<?i>, thought Tiuri. He clasped his hands together and rested his eyes on his sword, which he would be allowed to use only for a just cause. He repeated to himself the words that he would have to speak to King Dagonaut the following day: "I swear as a knight to serve you loyally, as I will all of your subjects and those who call upon my aid. I promise to..."
Then he heard a knock at the door. It was quiet, but there could be no doubt. The five young men held their breath, but stayed exactly where they were.
Then there was another knock.
They looked at one another, but no one said a word or moved a muscle.
The handle turned and rattled, but of course the door was locked. Then they heard the sound of footsteps slowly moving away.
All five of them sighed at the same time.
Good, thought Tiuri. That’s it over with. It was strange, but he felt as though, all throughout his vigil, he had been waiting for such an interruption. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure the others must be able to hear it. Come on, Tiuri, calm down, he said to himself. It was just a stranger who didn’t know about our vigil, or someone who wanted to disturb us, or to put us to the test.
But still, Tiuri waited anxiously for another sound. His candle flared brightly and then went out, with a quiet hiss, and he was surrounded by darkness.
He had no idea how much more time had passed when he heard a quiet noise above his head. It sounded like someone scratching at the window!
And then he heard a voice, as soft as a breath. "In the name of God, open the door!"
Copyright © 2014 by Tonke Dragt. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
