at the Mentor. In one hand the rider was clutching a spear, and its tip had pierced the chest of a knight, who was lying on the ground. This knight’s blond hair and pale armour were stained with mud and blood, but he was not defeated. It seemed that he was trying to repel the attack with his sword. I went closer to examine it. The blade was beautifully engraved with an inscription in Latin, but I didn’t have the knowledge to understand it.
I looked into the face of the white knight. The paint was faded and peeling in some places, but his eyes were alive and full of determination. It seemed to me that any moment he would come to life. I was fascinated by him. The artist who depicted the triumph of the black rider was certainly on the side of the white knight. And so was I. My heart was overflowing with pain. I didn’t want the white knight to die. I reached out and touched his painted forehead. It was cold and dusty. Alicia, who had been standing next to me the whole time, suddenly growled and attacked me. She sunk her teeth into the hand that was touching the wall. Her grip was firm and deep, but short-lived. She let go of me almost immediately.
“What are you doing?” I shouted, rubbing my wrist. It was bleeding. She was just staring at me. “Mad Dog!”
I went to hit her, but she didn’t move.
“Ah, to hell with you!” I waved my hand and walked away. She wanted to follow me, but I turned around and yelled at her.
“Get out of here!”
She froze.
“Do not follow me, dumb animal! Get out!”
She sat still, and I went into another room and slammed the door with all my might. A piece of plaster fell on my head. I shook it off and looked around. In a mildewed corner, there were a few canvases covered with cobwebs. Years later I learnt that these were the priceless works of sixteenth century masters, but then I just used them to fix the window and warm up a little.
After that incident, I ignored Alicia for several weeks. I let the mysterious servants take care of her. I didn’t need such a crazy dog. Besides, the Mentor had been away for so many days that I had even started to worry that something had happened to him, but then he returned.
It was a winter evening. A snowstorm was howling outside. I was sitting at his desk drawing a medieval castle with a quill pen. My fingers were stained with ink, but I had nothing else to draw with – not a single pencil! Sometimes I felt sorry that I’d left my comic books at home in Germany. What adventures I could imagine for my beautiful Amazon now!
In came the Mentor. He was wearing a summer shirt and shorts that were definitely not appropriate for the blizzard that was knocking on the windows. The Mentor looked tanned and fresh. Alicia, who was lying on the coach pretending to be extremely bored, immediately jumped up and sprinted towards him.
“My dear,” he said as he patted her on the head. “Hello, Walter.” He came up to the table and put a pile of books in front of me.
The books were new with that wonderful smell of paper and ink. Economy and Law. Astonished, I started to leaf through them. They were so different from all the books I had studied before, and they certainly didn’t belong in this world I was living now.
“Soon you will need such knowledge,” said the Mentor.
I wanted to ask him something, but his attention was fully on Alicia. He got down on his knees and stroked her. For a moment, I had a feeling they were talking.
That night, she came up to me and buried her nose in my neck.
“You want me to forgive you?” I asked.
She put her head on her paws, and her eyes were glistening in the darkness.
“Oh, you know I can’t stay mad at you forever,” I said, “but don’t bite me again, ok?”
She nodded and made a quiet sound.
“Missed you,” I said as I stroked her. Though she couldn’t answer, I was glad that she was near.
12
The next day began with another surprise. When I came down for breakfast, I found a boy sitting at the table. He was younger than me by two, maybe three years. His clothes were simple, a sweatshirt and jeans, but his face was unusual. There was something Eastern in it and at the same time something Western. He had black oriental eyes and high cheekbones, short raven hair and a tan, which one can get only in the southern latitudes. I’d never seen such a beautiful person before. He was eating rolled oats with an unbelievable appetite.
“Hallo,” I said in German.
He immediately stopped eating and looked at me. For some reason, he looked confused.
“Hello,” he said, but in English.
“Walter, this is Reeve.” The Mentor appeared as usual from out of nowhere, “Reeve Raven, my nephew. Reeve, this is Walter. I told you about him.”
Reeve nodded. His slightly slanted eyes were serious, and he didn’t smile, but he looked quite friendly. I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was relieved to see someone who was about my age; but on the other hand, I always felt some antipathy towards strangers. Moreover, it turned out that the Mentor had already spoken to him about me, but I knew nothing about him. I sat down and took my plate.
“Where are you from?” I asked in English.
Over the last few months, I had practised my English and I could now communicate quite well.
“United States,” he answered.
“Oh, a long way from here then,” I said and looked at the Mentor. I didn’t know what else to say to this strange guy.
“Reeve is going to stay with us for several days,” said the Mentor, “and then we will send him off to Oxford or Cambridge. Reeve is going to be a lawyer.”
Reeve looked confused again, and I felt a hint of jealousy. I’d got used to the idea that the Mentor was mine and only mine. I didn’t even think that somewhere outside the walls of this castle he had another life. Not one of us said a word more. After breakfast, the Mentor called me into his study and said,
“I want you to make friends with him. He’s suffered a terrible tragedy, lost his entire family. I’m sure you can understand how that feels.” I nodded. I understood. “He is not very sociable. I want you to talk to him. It will be good for both of you.” At that moment, I was amazed by how much he cared about the boy, but now I’m amazed at what a heartless and insincere person he actually was.
After breakfast, Reeve and I were riding through the forest on horseback. The morning was cold. The trees were covered with frost that glistened with hundreds of colours in the sunlight. The crystal garden. Lifeless and cold. For some reason, all of this reminded me of that cloudy day in the park when Sunny confessed to his addiction and I felt embarrassed. I felt a cold lump in my breast, and with every minute, it was getting heavier and heavier. Reeve was riding nearby, immersed in his thoughts. He stared ahead, his eyes were cold and resolute.
“Who are you?” I asked.
He winced and looked at me.
“Raven,” he replied.
I remembered that the Mentor, introducing him in the morning, called him Reeve Raven. I thought then it must be a family name, but now I was not so sure.
“Is
