The Mask Wearer (5 page)

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.

Curious, Amos decided to follow him. He noticed then that the young thief had thick sideburns. The boy quickly turned around a street corner and walked toward one of the town’s fortified walls, located far from any dwellings. Once at the foot of the wall, he looked around furtively and promptly vanished. Amos could not believe his eyes. He approached the spot where the boy had stopped, and discovered a deep hole. The boy had likely jumped into the hole, which would explain his sudden disappearance.

In turn, Amos jumped into the hole. At the bottom he saw that a long tunnel had been roughly scooped out under the wall. He followed it and came out on the other side, in the
high grass of the plain. Standing on his toes, Amos looked around, trying to spot the boy. He saw him for only one brief second before he disappeared again, at the far edge of the forest. How was it possible for such a heavy person to move so quickly? Amos wondered. In just a few minutes, the boy had crossed the field as fast as a galloping horse. Even more incredible was that he was still carrying his huge bag of stolen goods.

Running as fast as he could, Amos went to the edge of the forest. On the ground, under a canopy of trees, he noticed strange marks. These consisted of footprints—and also of handprints. Was the heavyset boy moving on all fours in the forest? Farther down, the prints changed to that of a young bear. Amos thought there was only one answer to this enigma: he had followed a humanimal. It was the only thing that could explain the boy’s agility, strength, and speed. Young bears were fast and powerful creatures. It would also explain why the strange fugitive had so much hair on his face.

Amos rejoiced to think that humanimals were not legendary creatures after all. They really existed! There truly were humans capable of morphing into an animal at will. He knew that very few humans possessed this fantastic gift.

Amos remembered the two humanimals who the sentry had told him had been burned in the town square of Bratel-la-Grande. He reached the sad conclusion that a young person who steals food to survive probably has no parents to take care of him. And he knew that only one explanation was possible: the Knights of Light had killed this boy’s parents. The knights had probably seen them change from humans to animals, and
had wrongly assumed that if a human could transform himself or herself into a beast, he or she could also turn people to stone.

I must find this boy and speak to him
, Amos decided.

With the mermaid’s trident slung across his shoulder, Amos entered the forest and followed the humanimal’s tracks. After an hour’s walk, he reached a small clearing. The prints in the ground led him to a cozy round cottage made of wood. All around the house were many beehives, with thousands of buzzing bees.

“Is anyone home?” Amos shouted in a friendly manner. “Answer me. I don’t come as an enemy. I followed your tracks, young bear, and I would very much like to talk to you.”

No one replied. In fact, with the exception of the bees, Amos didn’t hear a sound. He took the trident in one hand and carefully approached the house. To his surprise, it had no windows. He knocked on the door.

“My name is Amos Daragon! I would like to speak to someone!” he shouted again.

There was still no answer. Amos pushed the door open gently, took a look around the room, and went in slowly. A strong smell of musk—of a wild animal—hit his nostrils. On a stool, Amos saw the flickering light of a small candle. In the middle of the room, a dying fire was still smoking a little. Daylight came in through an opening in the center of the roof that let out the smoke of the fireplace. On a low wooden table were a piece of bread and a jar of honey. Near the door, close to him, Amos saw the large bag of food with its stolen contents.

Suddenly, in a great commotion, the table was whisked off its legs and went flying into the air. It crashed against a wall and came tumbling to the ground. At that instant, a blond-colored bear jumped over Amos and, seething with anger, pushed him out of the house with one paw. In less than a second, the beast was on top of him, crushing him with all his weight. As the bear was about to slash Amos’s face with its razor-sharp claws, Amos got hold of his trident and pointed it at the animal’s throat. With each one threatening to kill the other, both fighters stopped moving. The bees, now ready to fight, had gathered in a cloud right over the bear’s head. Amos quickly realized that the animal exercised a power over the insects. The beast was growling orders to his flying army.

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Amos said calmly as he tried to engage the bear in dialogue. “I’ve come to talk to you about your parents. Please … you’re crushing me.”

To Amos’s astonishment, the bear’s body regained some of its human shape. Its head was now that of the boy at the market. But he kept the huge, sharp teeth of a beast. And his right arm, still in midair as if ready to strike, kept the form of a bear’s paw, but his left arm had come back to normal and was pinning Amos against the ground.

“I don’t trust you!” the humanimal said, even though the trident remained aimed at his throat. “I’ve seen you several times with the knights. You even live at an inn that belongs to one of them. I noticed you well before you knew I existed. You’re a spy and I will kill you.”

“Well, if you’re going to kill me, get it over with. And since you know me so well, you must be aware that I am not from
this realm and that I’m not a threat to you,” Amos said. “I advise you to eat me quickly. But if you do, you’ll never know what happened to your parents.”

On a signal from the humanimal, the bees flew back to their hives. The bear then became completely human again. He abandoned his aggressive behavior and became a mere fat boy sitting on the ground. He started to cry softly.

“I know what the knights did to my parents,” he said. “They believed that my mother and father turned all the villagers in the surrounding towns to stone. But I’m not a sorcerer and neither were my parents. I won’t hurt you. Actually, I would rather have you kill me. That way, I’d be free of my sorrow.”

As Amos got up, he noticed that his armor was ripped. The bear’s claws had gone through the leather, leaving four long tears. Without that protection, Amos knew he would have been seriously injured.

“You’re very strong!” Amos said. “Since you already know the fate of your parents, let me say how sorry I am. If there is anything I can do to help you, just let me know.”

The boy seemed satisfied. He smiled. There was no trace of vengeance in his dark eyes. His chubby pink cheeks, his long blond side-whiskers, and his plump body made him instantly likeable. He would have looked like a normal boy were it not for the whiskers, the thick eyebrows that met above his nose, and the hair that covered the palms of his hands.

“This is the first time I’ve seen a human show any kindness to a humanimal,” he said. “My name is Beorf Bromanson. Very few like me remain in the world. I belong to a people known as man-beasts. Some legends say that humanimals
were the first beings on this planet. We had kings and magnificent realms in the depths of immense forests. Each family was linked in soul and in blood to an animal. There were man-dogs, man-birds, and a great number of creatures that had the ability to shape-shift into whatever they wanted to be. As for me, I come from the bear line. Sadly, humans never trusted us, and killed many of us. In fact, I’ve never met any other humanimal other than my parents. My father used to say that we were probably the last family in the bear line still alive on this earth. Now I’m probably the last of my race.”

Amos suddenly thought that since Beorf lived in the forest, he might know something about the mysterious and wicked force that was wreaking so much damage in the realm. So he asked the humanimal whether he knew who or what was transforming the villagers into statues.

“I do know,” Beorf said. “But it’s a long story and I am too sad and too tired to talk about it now. Come see me tomorrow and I’ll tell you all I know about those horrible creatures.”

The two boys shook hands warmly. Amos was pleased to have met Beorf and promised to come back early the next day. He started off and was nearly in the thick of the forest when he heard the galloping of horses. He turned around and saw a dozen Knights of Light throwing a net over Beorf. Transformed into a bear, the humanimal was struggling to free itself of the trap. The bees were stinging the armored men furiously. One of the knights knocked Beorf out while another one set fire to the wooden house. Once the beast lay unconscious, the bees stopped their fight and returned to their hives.

In the net, the bear morphed into his human form. His feet
and hands were tied up before he was loaded onto a horse. Amos wanted to run to his aid, but he wisely thought that rather than confronting the powerful knights, it was best to find another way to try and save his friend. Hidden in the woods, he saw the knights take Beorf away. Huge flames were now consuming the cottage. The sight made Amos remember Beorf’s words: “Sadly, humans never trusted us, and killed many of us.”

Frantically he ran back toward Bratel-la-Grande.

W
hen Amos reached the capital, he was out of breath and exhausted. But he went straightaway to the Shield and the Sword. Barthelemy was at the inn, chatting with three other knights. They had all removed their armor and were applying ointment over the many bee stings that covered their skin. They had been stung everywhere: under their arms, behind their knees, in their mouths, even under their feet.

“Those bees are real devils! Look, they stung me on the palm of the hand I use to hold my sword,” said one knight. “How’s that possible? My hand was solidly around the handle of my weapon, and yet those blasted bees managed to sting me there!”

“That’s nothing compared to what they did to me,” complained another one. “Look at my right leg; it’s almost paralyzed because of the swelling. I counted exactly fifty-three stings. And yet there is nothing on my left leg. Those bees
knew exactly what they were doing by concentrating all their efforts to deprive me of one leg. An enemy on the ground is an enemy vanquished! Those little devils knew how to keep me down.”