Two weeks into their journey north, the Daragons met a knight on the road. He sported a large sword, his shield was adorned with a blazing sun, and his armor sparkled as bright as a mirror.
“Stop!” he shouted. “Identify yourselves, or you’ll pay for your silence.”
Urban Daragon cordially introduced himself and explained that he and his family were headed north to Berrion. He added that he and his wife were craftspeople who had decided to travel again after spending a good number of years in the kingdom of Omain, where their excellent workmanship had been rewarded many times by the ruler. It was not a common sight to see craftspeople riding such beautiful horses, but the knight nodded as if satisfied with the explanation. Of course, Urban did not confess the real reasons that were taking them to Berrion.
“Is it true that the lord of Omain is as stupid as an ass?” the knight inquired, laughing.
“It’s an insult to donkeys to compare them to Lord Edonf,” Amos answered. “At least donkeys are hardworking beasts. It would take only one knight such as yourself to seize all the land in Omain. The entire army there is just like Lord Edonf-cowardly and lazy.”
“Your son has a sharp tongue, but he seems to recognize the power of the sword when it crosses his path,” the knight said, obviously flattered by the compliment. “My fellow knights and I are on the lookout for sorcerers hiding by the roadside in this forest. We know they’re in there, but they surely bear no resemblance to you. You may continue on your way, good travelers.” The knight nodded. Then he added, “Be informed that you’re entering the kingdom of the Knights of Light. Our capital, Bratel-la-Grande, is only a few miles away. Tell the sentinel at the city gates that Barthelemy gave you permission to enter. Don’t waste time getting to the capital. When night falls, strange things happen outside our walls. May the light shine on you! Farewell, good people.”
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.