The three men peered into the barn through the many gaps in the planks.
They saw Amos gently stroke the donkey’s ears while repeating the same sentence: “Give me some gold! Give me some gold!”
Suddenly they saw the animal raise its tail and defecate. They could not believe their eyes when, one by one, Amos extracted eight gold coins from the droppings. Edonf rushed into the barn.
“Little brat! You thought you fooled me with your fake twig to boil water, didn’t you?” he said as he unsheathed his sword. “I made a mockery of myself in front of my court. A short while ago, all I could think of was killing you, but now I’ve a better idea. I’m going to take your donkey. I had heard that magic hens were able to lay golden eggs, something I never believed. But now I know that some donkeys can give gold too!”
Amos frowned. “Take my money, take my donkey and I hope you make it gallop to the castle! Then you’ll upset its stomach and all he’ll ever give you is dung!”
Edonf burst out laughing. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Why, you just gave me the precious advice I need to keep from making a serious mistake. Guards, lead this donkey out with great care! We’ll take it on foot to the castle. We’ll leave the horses here and come back for them later. I’ll walk behind you to make sure that no mishap endangers this precious creature. And if the animal poops on the way, I’ll collect all the gold coins it drops. As for you, little vermin, you can keep the eight gold coins.” He bent down to pick one up and tossed it back onto the ground. “They’re still warm! Along with the ten others I’ve already given you for the twig, you can consider that payment for the donkey.”
“No, please, my good lord, give me back my donkey!” Amos begged. “He’s all we have. Kill me if you want, but leave the donkey to my parents.”
Lord Edonf knocked Amos to the ground with a swift kick. “Why don’t you eat stone soup? It’s your specialty, isn’t it?”
Amos watched as Edonf and his two guards walked away with the precious animal. The fat man was singing and laughing. Amos too was rejoicing.
He had played his part well. He mounted Edonf’s horse and attached the two other horses’ bridles to his own. Then he went directly to the clearing at the foot of the mountain where his father and mother were waiting.
And so a new tale spread in the kingdom of Omain. The elders still retold the legend of Yack the Troubadour, but now the children also wanted to hear the story of Amos Daragon, the clever boy who had bartered a simple twig for ten gold coins, and a plain donkey for three beautiful horses.
3 BRATEL-LA-GRANDE
Amos’s parents had heard of the woods of Tarkasis. In the course of past travels, before their son’s birth, rumors concerning the place had reached their ears. It was said that those who dared to enter this forest were never seen again. A terrible power was supposed to inhabit these woods. Urban Daragon told his son that when he had looked for work in the small town of Berrion, he had met a very old man in the marketplace. This man was desperately trying to find his lost childhood.
He would stop every passerby. “Madam! Sir! Excuse me!” he would say. “My childhood was stolen from me! I need to find it again! Help me, please. I beg you. I’m only eleven years old! Only yesterday I was a happy child. But when I woke up this morning, my childhood was gone. Help me! Please, help me!”
Some people laughed at this strange man; others ignored him. No one took him seriously. Only Urban Daragon had ever approached him and asked what had happened to him.
“I lived close to the woods of Tarkasis,” the white-bearded and white-haired old man had answered. “My parents owned a cottage at the edge of the forest. My father told me over and over not to venture near there. Yesterday morning, I lost my dog and went to look for it. As I searched around the house, I heard barking farther away. It was my dog. I recognized the way he barks when he’s scared. I ran after him, giving no thought to my parents’ warnings. I remember seeing a lot of light, like little spots of sun shining through the trees. Then out of nowhere, beautiful, soft music started to play, and suddenly I felt like dancing. I was waltzing with the lights, I was so happy. I was calm and peaceful. I don’t know how long this lasted, but I probably danced for a very long time, because I fell asleep from exhaustion. When I woke up, there was no trace of my dog. I had this long white beard, and my hair had also turned white and grown a lot. Actually, all the hair on my body was white. Panicked, I hurried back to the house and realized that it had disappeared. So had my parents. The place was completely different, and a road stretched across where my father’s vegetable garden used to be. In tears, I followed that road and arrived here, in Berrion. This town is just a few minutes from Tarkasis, and yet I didn’t know of it. I had never heard of it. It’s as if it sprouted suddenly during the night. I don’t understand what is happening to me, dear sir. I’m eleven years old! We just celebrated my birthday. I swear that I’m not an old man. I’m not crazy. Please help me find my childhood again. Help me find my parents, my house, and my dog. Please, sir…”
Urban had believed the poor man, but there was nothing he could do for him. So he had gone on his way, shaken by the story he had heard.
The town of Berrion lay in the northernmost part of the country. After a night spent sleeping in a clearing, the Daragons got on their way at sunrise the next morning. They were ready for the monthlong journey. They had three good horses and ten gold coins. Amos had given eight of the coins to his father upon their reunion, and his father had carefully put them in his purse. Amos had hidden the other two coins in his shoes in case his trick with the donkey backfired. Edonf could have guessed that he had been tricked when Amos removed the coins from the animal’s droppings. But since Lord Edonf was even stupider than the donkey, the Daragons were in a position to undertake a trip entirely financed by their former master.
As they went through the mountain pass, Amos, Urban, and Frilla left the kingdom of Omain. They followed the north road, crossing plains and valleys, several poor villages, some green forests, and many charming little farms. The journey seemed very long to Amos. He wasn’t used to riding for entire days and went to sleep completely exhausted at night.
Along the way, Urban Daragon and his wife bought all they needed for their long trip: food, a tent, good blankets, and an oil lamp. Amos had never seen his father so happy or his mother so beautiful. Day by day, his parents were coming back to life. It was as if they were opening their eyes and awakening after an endless and gloomy slumber.
Frilla’s soft hands often braided her son’s hair with tender care. Urban laughed a lot, which touched Amos’s soul, and, in spite of his fatigue, he felt a kind of happiness he had never known before.
Amos played with his father, washed himself in the clear water of small rivers, and enjoyed the excellent food cooked by his mother. He was also given a plate of black leather armor that she had made for him, and his father bought him an earring representing a wolf’s head. Atop his horse, Amos looked majestic. With the mermaid’s trident slung across his back, his long braided hair, and his tightly fitted armor, he looked like a young warrior out of an old tale. In spite of all their expenses, Urban’s purse still contained six shiny coins-a huge fortune compared with the poverty that they saw around them.
By the fire at night, Urban spoke of his life, fascinating Amos with stories of his travels and adventures. He was an orphan and had learned a trade early in life to survive. He then took to the road “to conquer the world,” as he said, laughing at his innocence. Unfortunately, he encountered more disappointments than satisfaction on his travels. But his fate turned the day he met Frilla. She was a beautiful eighteen-year-old girl, with her long black hair and nut-brown eyes, a shepherdess by trade. She won his heart. Her parents had promised her to another man, so she and Urban eloped. A happy star had appeared in the young man’s life, and for eight years Urban and Frilla lived blissfully, wandering from village to village, from one kingdom to another. Then an even greater happiness befell them after they settled in the kingdom of Omain, the birth of their child. But the miserable twelve years that followed had been a horrible experience that they now wanted to forget.