Read Online Igraine the Brave by Cornelia Funke - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cornelia Funke
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with me?”
“I’m sure he would!” Garleff lowered his voice a little more. “To be honest, I think it would do him good to help someone again. Wait here. I’ll go and ask him.”
The giant stood up, took a long stride toward the mountain, and peered through the top window of the tower.
“Hello?” he called. “Hello, anyone at home?”
Nothing moved on the other side of the window, but a figure rose behind the moonlit battlements on the tower roof. It was the knight. His armor shone, but not so much as a single plume adorned his helmet.
“Oh, is that you, Garleff?” Igraine heard him say sadly. “What do you want, my friend?”
“I have a girl with me who rode to these hills all alone from the Whispering Woods to get some of my hairs. She arrived safely, but it would set my mind at rest if you could escort her home.” The giant thrust his enormous nose over the battlements. “Her name is Igraine, and her parents’ castle is being threatened by a nasty piece of work called Osmund.”
“Osmund?” said the knight. “Oh, I know that name. And I’ve heard no good of him, either. He’s an enchanter, one of the black magicians.” He leaned over the battlements and looked down at Igraine. “She’s wearing a suit of armor,” he said in surprise.
“She’s a brave little thing,” said Garleff, “but all the same, I’d like to think she had an experienced knight’s company on her way home, if you see what I mean.”
The knight said nothing. He went on saying nothing for a small eternity. Then he sighed again. “In truth,” he said, “a knight must help a damsel in distress, even a knight who has lost his honor.”
“Oh, for the stars’ sake, don’t go on about that again!” said Garleff, lifting the sighing knight off the top of his tower.
Lancelot snorted when the giant put the knight down on the grass next to him, but he bravely stood his ground behind Igraine.
“Noble lady,” said the knight, bowing to her, “I am the Sorrowful Knight of the Mount of Tears, and as you are obviously in dire straits, I offer you my services.”
“Th-th-that’s very nice of you!” stammered Igraine. “Really. Er — could you come right away? You see, I’m in rather a hurry.”
“As you wish,” replied the knight. “Let me just call my noble steed.”
He gave a low whistle, and a gray mare appeared between the trees. The sight of the giant didn’t seem to alarm her. She trotted up to the Sorrowful Knight at her leisure and stopped in front of him. The mare was saddled and bridled as if for a tournament.
“Come now, Gray,” said the knight. “The noble Igraine needs our protection, so we will go adventuring once more.” The horse whinnied softly as the knight swung himself up on her back. Lancelot pricked up his ears, curious. Igraine made sure once again that the giant’s hairs were safe in the bag at her belt, then she picked up Lancelot’s reins.
“Thank you, Garleff!” she called up to the giant. “Thank you for everything!”
Garleff knelt down on the grass in front of her and carefully shook her hand, which was smaller than his fingernail. “My regards to your parents!” he said. “And tell them to be a little more careful casting their spells from now on.”
“I’ll do that,” said Igraine.
Then she mounted Lancelot, waved back one last time, and rode away beside the Sorrowful Knight.
Garleff watched them go for some time, and did not lie down on the thorny hillside again to look at the stars until they were out of sight.
14
T he knight’s gray mare was not quite as fast as Lancelot, but they made good progress. Nothing stopped them in their swift ride. The night was quiet and peaceful, and the sky was full of stars.
The Sorrowful Knight was a silent companion. Igraine asked him about the tournaments he had won, the hunters he had driven away, the unicorns he had saved. She asked why he didn’t have a squire, and what the King’s daughter looked like
“I’m sure he would!” Garleff lowered his voice a little more. “To be honest, I think it would do him good to help someone again. Wait here. I’ll go and ask him.”
The giant stood up, took a long stride toward the mountain, and peered through the top window of the tower.
“Hello?” he called. “Hello, anyone at home?”
Nothing moved on the other side of the window, but a figure rose behind the moonlit battlements on the tower roof. It was the knight. His armor shone, but not so much as a single plume adorned his helmet.
“Oh, is that you, Garleff?” Igraine heard him say sadly. “What do you want, my friend?”
“I have a girl with me who rode to these hills all alone from the Whispering Woods to get some of my hairs. She arrived safely, but it would set my mind at rest if you could escort her home.” The giant thrust his enormous nose over the battlements. “Her name is Igraine, and her parents’ castle is being threatened by a nasty piece of work called Osmund.”
“Osmund?” said the knight. “Oh, I know that name. And I’ve heard no good of him, either. He’s an enchanter, one of the black magicians.” He leaned over the battlements and looked down at Igraine. “She’s wearing a suit of armor,” he said in surprise.
“She’s a brave little thing,” said Garleff, “but all the same, I’d like to think she had an experienced knight’s company on her way home, if you see what I mean.”
The knight said nothing. He went on saying nothing for a small eternity. Then he sighed again. “In truth,” he said, “a knight must help a damsel in distress, even a knight who has lost his honor.”
“Oh, for the stars’ sake, don’t go on about that again!” said Garleff, lifting the sighing knight off the top of his tower.
Lancelot snorted when the giant put the knight down on the grass next to him, but he bravely stood his ground behind Igraine.
“Noble lady,” said the knight, bowing to her, “I am the Sorrowful Knight of the Mount of Tears, and as you are obviously in dire straits, I offer you my services.”
“Th-th-that’s very nice of you!” stammered Igraine. “Really. Er — could you come right away? You see, I’m in rather a hurry.”
“As you wish,” replied the knight. “Let me just call my noble steed.”
He gave a low whistle, and a gray mare appeared between the trees. The sight of the giant didn’t seem to alarm her. She trotted up to the Sorrowful Knight at her leisure and stopped in front of him. The mare was saddled and bridled as if for a tournament.
“Come now, Gray,” said the knight. “The noble Igraine needs our protection, so we will go adventuring once more.” The horse whinnied softly as the knight swung himself up on her back. Lancelot pricked up his ears, curious. Igraine made sure once again that the giant’s hairs were safe in the bag at her belt, then she picked up Lancelot’s reins.
“Thank you, Garleff!” she called up to the giant. “Thank you for everything!”
Garleff knelt down on the grass in front of her and carefully shook her hand, which was smaller than his fingernail. “My regards to your parents!” he said. “And tell them to be a little more careful casting their spells from now on.”
“I’ll do that,” said Igraine.
Then she mounted Lancelot, waved back one last time, and rode away beside the Sorrowful Knight.
Garleff watched them go for some time, and did not lie down on the thorny hillside again to look at the stars until they were out of sight.
14
T he knight’s gray mare was not quite as fast as Lancelot, but they made good progress. Nothing stopped them in their swift ride. The night was quiet and peaceful, and the sky was full of stars.
The Sorrowful Knight was a silent companion. Igraine asked him about the tournaments he had won, the hunters he had driven away, the unicorns he had saved. She asked why he didn’t have a squire, and what the King’s daughter looked like
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