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“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!”

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.