TCOTNK Season 3.9

The Castle Of The Naked Knights. The origins of the picture book that will change so many lives....

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I let that sink in for a moment. Sitting in the front row among the growing crowd. At a performance I know nothing about. Theatre? Dance? A magic show? Suddenly I feel very strange. I don't belong here. I'm just here for a lesson. A puzzle piece. Drawn out here with the spirit of Christmases gone by. I'm not dying. I am long dead because I am outside of this all. Not part of what's happening here.

Then suddenly, it is as if it is finished, instantly. Whoever or whatever arranges all this, has had enough. She has what she needs. The woman is done here.

Papa Beard is coming to get me. I see him searching. I am easy to find with a dress the colour of a fire truck. The man stands out too. Is clearly not a participant. Nothing says leisure in his attitude. He walks up to me, extends a hand and says, "You need to speak to my daughter."

I hear nothing in the tone of his voice. Still, I trust him and extend my hand. His grip is adamant. I half-stumble after him, almost tripping over the seam of my scorched dress. I look back apologetically and see the very shocked look of the Lord of the Castle.

My hand still tightly gripped, we duck between the stage and a wooden shack. Step over cables and a long towbar and then Papa Beard lifts me onto the chest-high drywall like he would a child. On the road behind it is their truck with the engine running. The angry daughter sits behind the wheel. I am pushed into the cabin. And after me comes one of the younger fireworks sons. He hasn't even closed the door yet and we drive away with a jerk. The engine roars. We bounce over the bad road surface. All without turning on the headlights. I can barely tell the difference between road and the wall next to it.

The beautiful woman behind the steering wheel looks grim. Seems to have it under control. The son smiles at me. He finds it very exciting. I am angry. Just think there's no point in shouting. We turn right. A dirt road. She takes it a little easier, but the road is full of holes so we bounce up and down violently. In the distance I see the lights of the castle. I try to look into the truck bed through the back window. No bicycle. The floor seems empty. What the hell are we going to do?

"Are we being followed?" she asks. Both her hands are now relaxed on the violently vibrating steering wheel. I'll look again. No lights behind us. We turn off again. Turn left into a dark patch of trees. She really slows down there.

'Where are we going?' I ask as calmly as possible.

"We are not going anywhere, you are going," she says. Her look is very determined. Her eyes sparkle in the almost dark cabin. She points. I watch. The moon stands high among the bare branches.

'Chasing the moon?' I ask scornfully.

She shakes her head but says nothing more.

I'm waiting for a response. But don't go any further because she stops the truck just outside the other end of that bit of forest. At an intersection of two dirt paths. With the engine off, my ears are ringing in the silence.

'And now?' I ask. She looks to the side. Her eyes slide over my dress. Her dress?

“It looks good on you,” she says.

"Thank you," I say.

Then she looks at me.

That takes longer than usual.

Actually, I don't know how long it took.

A connection is being made or something like that. I see my daughter. Much older than now. A woman who is a mother herself. Quite a row of children. Blurred. Except for the last one. That's me. Almost. Then I see her in a dress like the one I'm wearing now. Then the woman breaks the connection by lowering her eyes. She gets out. Leaving me with a deep sense of gratitude. I have no idea if it was real but I don't care. It resolves my anger about the kidnapping.

I also climb out of the cabin. It's so dark out here. I don't see any lights. The moon is also almost set. Our breath steams. The stars are blurry. A change of weather is coming.

I think we wait an hour. Back in the cabin. That's warmer. Then the woman suddenly looks up. She opens her door and listens.

"They're here," she says. Smiles at me mysteriously.

A horse and cart come bouncing along the sandy path. Much smaller than the live-in caravans but similar in style. All wood. Gorgio is sitting on the box.

The woman hugs me. Apparently we're saying goodbye.

"I don't even know your name," I say.

I get the sweetest smile yet.

“Good,” she says softly, “you're making progress. My name is Esclarmonde, and what about you?'

She continues to hold both my hands in her warm hands.

“Sapi,” I say. Her eyebrows rise.

"That means fate in our dialect," she says in surprise, "the red fate."

Then she lets me go. Climbs aboard the truck and starts driving away before her brother is even inside. He waves exuberantly, she doesn't.

I'm alone with Gorgio.

"This is Uglee," he says and tickles the white horse on his butt.

The beast raises its head and looks at me. It has a scary light eye.

'That's called a moon eye, Essie pointed this out for you. She's really gentle. The horse, not my sister. Really suitable for a beginner like you.'

I keep a safe distance.

"You've never held a pair of reins before, have you?"

He looks like, see, I told them.

"Well," he says, "you'll learn soon enough."

'How so?' I say stupidly.

'Your things are inside. The journey continues with this horse cart.'

He walks away and waves at me.

That takes three seconds.

"Hey," I shout angrily, "you can't do that."

“What not?” he walks halfway back, “Give you a horse? And a stack of firewood on wheels? Of course we can.”

I look sideways at the patient horse. She growls. Or whatever that sound is called.

Then suddenly Gorgio is in front of me again.

'”I had you there, didn't I?” he says laughing. Then the barefooted smug climbs onto the trestle.  Turning his boyish back to my itching hands.

He gets a huge slap on his behind. Like a proper aggressive smack with my flat left hand that will leave a good glow. Gorgio is unbothered, he looks down at me triumphantly. A smile from ear to ear.

“You can put me on the bus when you've had enough of me,” he says, “but now we have to go. We're still on the run.”

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