englisch

Yitar, the Traveller

It is early morning. The sun has barely risen, but it is hiding behind towering clouds. Yitar leaves the breakfast room of the posting inn and makes his way to the coach. It is already heavily laden with the luggage of the travellers, who are still standing sleepily beside it. The helpers are stowing the last large pieces of baggage on the roof. Then they clear the coach for departure, and the coachman climbs onto the box. The passengers are hurriedly ushered inside and the doors are closed.

Yitar takes his place beside the coachman on the box and puts a small, waterproof-wrapped parcel between his feet. He does not like sitting inside, squeezed in among all those people, and he is making good use of the opportunity, since the official guard has fallen ill and has been absent since the last posting station.

The coachman is immensely relieved to have someone accompanying him, once he has made sure that Yitar knows how to handle the old musket belonging to the coach and is also willing to use it in an emergency. And now the horses lean into their harnesses and the coach rumbles away.

The mail coach has long since left the densely populated country behind and is travelling through lonely heathland. Bushes line the road and scattered groups of trees break up the landscape. The rain has yet to arrive, but yesterday's rain has softened the road considerably and the horses are struggling. It is a team of four, so this is not an express coach, and the coach itself is rather overloaded.

Further ahead, there is an obstacle in the road ... a small carriage with a broken wheel, partly blocking the way. The mail coach is too large and unwieldy to get past it. Beside the wrecked vehicle stands a young lady, while her companion is struggling with the horses, which have become entangled in the harness in their panic.

The mail coach comes to a halt and the coachman loudly curses the blocked road and incompetent drivers. Yitar, however, climbs down and goes over to the unfortunate young man to calm the horses. Once that has been done, the small carriage has to be moved off the road – which means the coachman has to lend a hand. Yitar diplomatically manages to make that clear to him. One of the passengers from the coach helps them as well. At last the road is clear again, and all those who have helped look as though they have just emerged from a mud fight.

Now comes the question: what is to be done with the two unfortunate travellers? One cannot simply leave them there in their misery. The young lady can be accommodated in the coach – Yitar's seat is free – but the young man cannot leave the horses where they are. He will have to ride one and lead the other until he reaches the next place where they can be put up. So he asks where the nearest inn is and how far away it might be. The coachman knows the route, of course, and can give him an answer: about a two-hour ride.

They discuss what to do next and decide that the young man will take the horses to the inn and leave them there. Yitar offers the young lady his seat in the coach, and the problem seems to be solved. She accepts the arrangement, relieved that help has arrived. Yitar climbs back onto the box and talks as best he can with the young rider. In this way he learns the story of why the young couple are travelling.

“We are brother and sister, Silla and I. My name is Antor,” the young man explains, “and we are on our way to the house of an uncle we have never seen. He has left us an inheritance, but there is a deadline attached to it, so we have to claim it as quickly as possible. Which makes this accident all the more frustrating. The reason was a snake that was slithering across the road. It frightened the horses ... and I couldn't control them any more.”

The young man looks down awkwardly.

“That happens to the best of us. Don't let it trouble you. If you are in a hurry, we should find a solution,” Yitar reassures him. “I would suggest that you leave the horses at the inn and continue in the mail coach, if you are travelling to the same destination as we are.”

Yitar gives the coachman a firm look. The man lowers his eyes and nods. The young man agrees at once, relieved to have found a solution.

The inn makes a good impression, and the landlord is extremely helpful. He has room in the stable for the horses and can send a good wheelwright to the scene of the accident to repair the broken wheel. Antor promises to have the horses collected as soon as possible, and everyone is satisfied with the arrangement.

Antor climbs onto the box and settles himself between the coachman and Yitar as best he can, and the journey continues. In the early evening they reach Lotarham, their destination, and the coachman is delighted to be rid of them again, though Yitar's generous tip soon improves his mood.

They stop at the best inn in town to have dinner and freshen up after the journey. Antor sends word to his uncle's house so that someone can come and collect him and his sister.

“Yitar, we would never have reached our destination without you. Won't you come with us and accept our hospitality? We would be delighted if our acquaintance did not end here!”

Antor looks openly at Yitar, and his sister joins in the request. Yitar considers for a moment, then politely and warmly accepts the invitation.

And so a strange story begins.

After dinner, the carriage sent by the house of their late uncle arrives, and they set out on the final part of their journey. The housekeeper receives them and, rather furtively, leads them to a room at the end of the corridor whose door is concealed behind a curtain. The siblings look at one another in bewilderment.

It is a cosy little room. A fire burns in the fireplace, and an old gentleman sits in one of the armchairs arranged around it, looking calmly at them.

“So,” he says at last, “these are the heiress and her brother. You have brought reinforcements?”

Antor explains who Yitar is and why they invited him to accompany them. The old gentleman nods.

“That was your decision. And now you are going to learn who I am.” He pauses. “I am your late uncle and the testator.”

The siblings stare at him in frozen disbelief. Silla first goes pale, then red, then pale again. Antor leaps to his feet.

“What kind of nonsense is this? How can you sit there so calmly and tell us such rubbish?”

“No nonsense. It was deliberate. Sit down again, Antor, and listen to me. There is a reason for this elaborate deception.”

Antor sits down hesitantly, and Silla takes his hand. She needs something solid to hold on to.

“I have – with the help of my doctor – faked my own death because I have been threatened for several weeks. As you may know, most of the members of my branch of the family are dead, which makes you my natural heirs. The difficulty is that I raised my second wife's son as my own child, and he became accustomed to thinking of himself as my heir. When he learned about my will, he became furious and felt betrayed. I have provided him with a substantial lifetime annuity, but that was not enough for him. So he left the house in anger, and I have not seen him since.”

He pauses before continuing.

“Since then, I have suffered one accident after another, and have survived each of them only by good fortune. What I could not understand was what he stood to gain from it; because if I die, my will comes into force, and that is precisely what he does not want. But I have now learned that my will has disappeared and that the previous one has turned up with my estate administrator. The situation has therefore become more serious. So I secretly drew up my will again and entrusted it to a new estate administrator. Together with him, and with my doctor, whom I trust absolutely, I spread the rumour of my death and arranged for myself to be buried the very next day. That way, nobody could discover the deception.”

Silla and Antor are speechless with shock. Yitar leans back in his armchair, utterly calm.

“But what can we do?” Antor asks.

“Quite simply: you claim the inheritance, while I remain in hiding for the time being and you are extremely careful. We have to lure the fellow out of hiding and expose him. I have prepared this secret chamber in the house as my living quarters. Storvan knows nothing about it. I shall stay here, and you must secretly provide for me. And if he shows himself – officially, of course, you know nothing about his quarrel with me – then I shall appear and confront him with the truth. That could, however, be rather dangerous for you.”

Antor looks at Yitar.

“I am sorry that we have dragged you into this. If you would rather leave now, I can fully understand. But at least stay tonight and leave us tomorrow morning after a good night's rest. You should know, though, that we would deeply regret your departure, because we shall always feel indebted to you, out of gratitude and affection.”

Yitar smiles quietly and replies in an even voice:

“If I can be of any use to you, I am happy to stay. I don't much like people who overstep their boundaries. So feel free to put me to work.”

Antor and Silla take his hands beaming at him.

“Agreed, then. There are four of us. Storvan is going to be surprised!”

Their uncle smiles. He has successfully assembled his troops and looks to the future with confidence.

The next morning the notary arrives at the appointed hour to open the will. The new estate administrator comes with him. Immediately afterwards a young man enters the room without so much as a greeting. He is almost the complete opposite of the brown-haired Antor: blond, slightly stocky, but good-looking and extremely self-assured. The housekeeper and her husband, who tends the garden, follow him, and now everyone is assembled.

The notary reads the will. The heirs are Silla and Antor, while Storvan inherits a small country estate and a legacy sufficient to provide for him for the rest of his life. A smaller legacy has also been left to the housekeeper and her husband, and they are delighted.

Storvan leaps to his feet and shouts, “What kind of will is this? This is impossible! I am the son and I have the right to inherit everything! And who is that?”

He points at the estate administrator, who remains seated perfectly calmly.

The notary remains composed. “You are the adopted son, while Silla and Antor are the natural heirs as the deceased's nearest relatives. You have been provided for generously. How can you possibly be dissatisfied?”

He turns to the estate administrator.

“Your turn, Mr Komodor.”

Komodor remains seated. He looks Storvan up and down, then explains calmly:

“I am the estate administrator appointed by my friend Voltur. He appointed me when he drew up the new will after the original one mysteriously disappeared. Can you explain that?”

Storvan says nothing, but it is plain that he is boiling with rage. He turns to leave the room, but Komodor's calm voice stops him.

“Incidentally, Mr Voltur left me a letter. In it he states that, should any unexplained accidents befall the principal heir, your inheritance will immediately become void and you will receive nothing at all. This letter may be considered an appendix to the will, as it was drawn up in the presence of the notary and signed by two witnesses.”

Now nothing can stop Storvan. Roaring with fury, he leaves the room and slams the door behind him.

Silence reigns in the room – a thick, suffocating silence. Then Yitar rises and opens a window. That breaks the spell. The housekeeper and her husband withdraw, and those who remain relax a little. Soon the gathering disperses as well, for the notary takes his leave. He has done his duty.

“One question, Mr Komodor: are you completely familiar with this household? And if so, what about the servants? How closely are they attached to Storvan? They saw him grow up here, after all.”

It is the first time Yitar has spoken. Mr Komodor nods approvingly.

“You have put your finger on the sore spot, Mr ...?”

Antor now introduces Yitar, and the estate administrator seems satisfied. He looks thoughtful for a moment before replying:

“Yes, I know the household very well. I was an old friend of the deceased. The servants are likely to be divided. The older ones will certainly favour Voltur and his blood relatives; I am less certain about the younger servants. I could easily imagine Storvan having supporters and helpers here.”

“Then caution is required. For one thing seems certain to me: if something happens, the incident will not be easily traced back to Storvan.”

“I see it the same way, Mr Yitar. You appear to be an experienced man. Will you stay here and keep an eye on the young people for a while?”

“As long as Silla and Antor want me here, I shall stay.”

The siblings immediately assure him that they most certainly want him to remain. By now he is more a friend than a chance travelling acquaintance. Komodor looks very pleased. He has formed a very good impression of Yitar.

He rises and turns to Antor and Silla.

“All the necessary papers are on your uncle's desk in his study. I shall take care of whatever needs to be done with the authorities. For now, you should take your time becoming familiar with the household and the estates and getting to know the people, servants and neighbours alike. That will take some time. I shall leave you now, but you can reach me at any time if you need assistance. All the best to you both, and until we meet again!”

He gives Yitar a friendly nod as well and leaves the room.

Yitar returns to the window and looks outside. From there he can see the drive all the way to the road, and thus he makes sure that Storvan has actually left the property.

At Silla's request, the housekeeper calls all the servants together, and Silla and Antor are introduced to them. The estate manager has announced that he will arrive the following morning, so the most important matters are taken care of and they can turn their attention to lunch. On Yitar's suggestion, the housekeeper is invited to eat with them under the pretext of wanting to learn more about the household. He also firmly instructs the brother and sister to eat only what the housekeeper eats. Surprised and slightly alarmed, they agree.

Lunch passes in complete harmony. The housekeeper is a little embarrassed, but pleased nonetheless, and Yitar, Silla and Antor keep up a friendly conversation. Naturally, they question the housekeeper about the servants, but the subject of their “uncle” is completely avoided.

They proceed in the same manner at dinner, and so they survive the day without incident. Their luggage arrived the previous evening, their rooms are ready and their trunks have been unpacked, so they can finally settle in. After such an eventful day, they are also very tired. What was only a temporary arrangement yesterday is already the new order of the household today.

The following day is devoted to settling in as well. Antor meets the estate manager and rides around the property with him, while Silla is shown the running of the household by the housekeeper.

Yitar, however, seeks out Voltur in his refuge to discuss what has happened and consider the best course of action. Voltur has long since accepted him as the guardian of his niece and nephew. They also discuss acquiring a dog for Antor and a cat for Silla, provided that the two of them agree. Thus everything is arranged, and Yitar is satisfied as well.

Silla is delighted by the idea of a kitten and can hardly wait, while Antor is quite taken with the thought of having an affectionate puppy. Yitar is reassured; the two animals will inconspicuously become the household's food tasters.

Nothing disturbing happens over the next few days. Silla and Antor introduce themselves to their nearest neighbours, which naturally results in a flood of invitations. They also get to know the household servants better. Antor is attended by his uncle's valet – anything else would have seemed suspicious – while Silla hires a young girl with whom she quickly becomes friends.

Yitar becomes acquainted with the stable staff, especially Hama, Voltur's groom. Hama is in on the conspiracy, for he enjoys his master's complete trust. He is also entrusted with Antor's safety. It is noticeable that Storvan's stable boy has remained in service, and neither Yitar nor Hama trusts him.

In this way, Yitar tries to make Antor's surroundings as safe as possible. He has far less influence over Silla's surroundings, but he watches her maid very carefully. She is the housekeeper's niece and appears deeply devoted to her new mistress.

There is no sign or word from Storvan. He has not even appeared at the estate he inherited, and this worries Yitar. Storvan has vanished as though the earth had swallowed him.

Meanwhile, Silla and Antor have become accustomed to riding out in the mornings, and they already have a favourite resting place: a bench on a low hill dotted sparsely with trees. Antor's puppy usually comes along and then lies at their feet, tongue hanging out, while they enjoy the view.

That morning the dog is restless. It keeps sniffing about and cannot settle. Silla becomes uneasy as well, so they cut their stay short and soon turn back.

On the way through a small wood, the dog begins to growl. At the very same moment Antor's horse rears to avoid stepping on the dog, which has crossed the path directly in front of its feet, and a shot rings out. The bullet misses Antor by inches.

The groom reacts instantly and rushes into the wood to catch the shooter, but there is no one there. In the distance, the sound of hoofbeats fades away.

The siblings reach the house in a state of great agitation. This was the first attempt, and it had come within a hair's breadth of succeeding. The dog is the hero of the day and enjoys it thoroughly – with scraps from the table and extra strokes and cuddles. But now the siblings are fully warned and take Yitar's security measures seriously. That soon proves its worth.

Silla's kitten has a permanent place on her bed and usually settles down there before Silla herself goes to sleep. That evening they hear a scream from Silla's room. Yitar and Antor rush in and find the cat hissing on the bed while Silla's maid is striking at the mattress with a poker.

The cause is quickly discovered: a small poisonous snake is trying to escape from the bed, and Antor instantly kills it.

But how did the snake get into the room?

That is the question not only Yitar is asking himself. First, however, they need to restore some calm. Fortunately, Silla is merely frightened, not hysterical, and sees no reason not to spend the night in her own room. Antor frowns, but agrees because he does not want to cause too much commotion.

Yitar takes the girl with him when he leaves the siblings and goes with her to an empty guest room. First he asks her name, then he speaks to her reassuringly and remarks on how much he appreciates her presence of mind. He simply lets her tell him how she became aware of the danger, and Issa gradually calms down.

Then he asks how she has settled into the household and which of the servants she likes and which she does not. It sounds like casual conversation, and Issa is completely relaxed.

“Oh,” she says, “most of them are very nice. Well, one of the servants is a little too nice, but Auntie told me not to pay him any attention. The only problem is the old nursemaid. She's been unhappy ever since the young master left. And she keeps calling us ungrateful and disloyal. But we're not! We're not his servants, after all. We're the old gentleman's servants, and now those of his heirs. Or am I wrong?”

“You are quite right,” Yitar replies, “and the nursemaid is mistaken. On the other hand, her attitude is understandable. She has naturally grown fond of her charge and therefore takes his side. Does she have any friends among the staff?”

“Not really. She always thinks she's better than everyone else. That's why nobody understands why she's so thick with the young master's stable boy!”

Issa looks startled as soon as the words leave her mouth. Clearly, that was not something she was supposed to talk about.

Yitar lets the remark pass as though she had said nothing, and Issa leaves him completely reassured. But it gives him food for thought.

Nursemaid and stable boy? A highly unlikely combination – and one that must somehow have a background. Does the nursemaid have a hand in this? Does she know something? But how was the snake transported? Hmm ... a lidded basket? And how could the nursemaid become an accomplice to murder? What is really going on?

When Yitar encounters a maidservant, he asks her about a lidded basket that he claims to have misplaced. She promises to keep an eye out for it, and Yitar lets the matter rest for the time being.

After the evening's disturbance, Silla follows Yitar's advice and has her uncle's doctor summoned. A rumour is spread that she is mortally ill after being bitten by a snake. The doctor is taken into their confidence and leaves her room with an expression of deadly seriousness.

It is not long before the nursemaid knocks at the door and enters Silla's room without being invited, because she knows Issa is not there. She finds Silla lying in bed, drenched in sweat and trembling. She offers the sufferer a glass of water that she finds on the bedside table, but Silla turns her head away. The nursemaid puts the glass back and leaves the room.

Yitar, however, enters the room, empties the glass, washes it out and replaces the water. Silla sits up.

“Is she gone?” Yitar nods, but advises her to remain in bed for the time being, just to be safe. Antor comes to them and asks, “Is Silla going to die?”

“Not just yet. We'll wait another day. Let's see what happens to you.”

They have long since stopped addressing one another formally. They have become companions in life and death. Silla sighs.

“A whole day in bed would be lovely if I could enjoy it, but like this ... By the way, when is Issa coming back?”

“Not before tomorrow. Her mother isn't feeling well, and she has to look after the younger children.”

Antor nods. “Good. Then we don't have to bring her into this. What does Uncle think of the plan?”

“He approves and is already very curious to see what happens next. Besides, he is terribly bored, shut away in his room like that,” Yitar says with a smile. “Visit him from time to time but be careful, all right?”

The siblings agree, and Antor says, “I'm riding over to our nearest neighbours with Rollo this evening. They expect me at eight. Hama won't accompany me, but he'll follow at a safe distance. I don't feel particularly comfortable about being used as bait ...” he admits, a little embarrassed.

“That doesn't surprise me. But I shall follow you as well, and I'll take the forester and his dog with me. The housekeeper will stay with you, Silla, as will a maid she trusts. I hope everything will go according to plan.”

“We hope so too,” Silla sighs, looking worriedly at her brother. He tries bravely to appear confident and leaves the room to prepare. Yitar remains until the housekeeper relieves him, then goes to visit Voltur.

The old gentleman is sitting in his room and is unusually restless. He has long since realised that something is afoot, and it is making him positively ill that he cannot do anything.

“I know,” Yitar says, “that you're practically sick with worry. But there's nothing to be done. You exiled yourself, and the moment has not yet come for you to reveal yourself. By the way, how much do you trust your valet?”

“Why do you ask? I trust him completely, at least as far as I am concerned. And I trust him well enough that I entrusted him with looking after Antor. But I haven't told him that I am still alive.”

“Then we won't bring him into it either. But I need someone to stay with you tonight and not let you out of his sight. What about the gardener?”

“The man is beyond reproach,” the old gentleman says. “He has proved his loyalty time and again.”

“Good. Then I'll tell him, and he can stand guard over you.”

Yitar tells the old gentleman what they are planning and how the scheme is supposed to work. He also suspects that the nursemaid may have become suspicious. She has been in the house long enough to know every – every! – room. And her connection with the stable boy Rollo is suspicious enough in itself.

The old gentleman rises and goes to the cupboard that serves him as a writing desk. From a drawer he takes out a pistol and several magazines. Yitar sees that the weapon is well maintained and carefully oiled.

“Yes, I have been cleaning and maintaining it as a precaution over the past few weeks. I had the feeling I ought to be prepared,” Voltur explains.

Yitar nods.

“That was a good idea. It reassures me. Right, then. I'll fetch the gardener, and you keep watch. And not a sound, please!”

Yitar is satisfied. The stage is set, the actors are prepared, the scene arranged. Rollo has left the house, but he is accompanying the intended victim. Hama is officially absent on a pretext, but he is following the two riders on horseback so that he can reach them quickly. Yitar has prepared the house so that he is free to keep Hama safe and, because one man might not be enough, he has brought the forester along as well. The dog will certainly be useful as an early warning.

The housekeeper and her husband can be relied upon as well. They remain loyal to their master.

Everything humanly possible has therefore been done to ensure the survival of those under Yitar's protection.

He himself goes to the forester's house to wait there. That puts him out of the way and should make Storvan feel safe. One of the windows of the forester's house is open, and anyone passing by can see Yitar and the forester busily occupied with a game of dice.

Meanwhile, all is quiet in the house. The servants who live there are having supper in the kitchen. Silla lies in her room, supposedly dying, while the housekeeper sits beside her. Only a single night-light is burning; otherwise the room is dark. Antor is on his way to the evening gathering at his neighbours' house, and Yitar is out as well.

The nursemaid slips quietly out of her room. She moves almost silently through the house, listening at one door after another, before eventually turning back. On her way to her room, she also pushes aside the curtain in front of the door to Voltur's room.

Everything is quiet, but she does not miss the faint glow of light beneath the door.

She smiles maliciously, draws the curtain closed again and hurries to her own room. There she places a lit candle in the window, extinguishes the other lights and sits down fully dressed at the little writing desk.

Antor and Rollo ride at a brisk pace, for Antor wants to arrive on time. As they enter the wood, Rollo falls a little behind without Antor noticing. Suddenly Antor's horse stumbles and throws him off. He hits the ground hard and loses consciousness for a moment. Rollo immediately jumps from his horse and bends over the unconscious man. A knife flashes in his hand.

Then a strong hand grabs him by the collar and tears him backwards, and a blow to the side of his neck sends him unconscious to the ground. Hama has been watching carefully, and at that very moment Yitar and the forester arrive. Rollo is bound and tied to his horse while Yitar tends to Antor.

Antor is just regaining consciousness, and Yitar finds that nothing is broken. Now he has time to investigate the cause of the accident. A rope stretched very low across the path has caused the horse to stumble. It is only slightly injured, though it limps when it is led back.

The forester takes Antor onto his own horse, as the young man is still rather dazed, and they ride back to the forester's house. Yitar is now in a hurry to get home. He leaves Antor with Hama and the forester and rides ahead.

Unease has taken hold of him. They have succeeded in protecting Antor, but what about Silla – and above all, Voltur? Yitar does not trust the nursemaid at all. He is not sure what she knows or suspects, and he can smell trouble.

When he reaches the house, he hands his horse to a stable boy who comes running and hurries up the steps. His first destination is Silla's room, where all is quiet – thank heaven! Silla is awake, as is the housekeeper, and both are relieved when he quickly tells them that Antor is safe. Then he rushes to Voltur's room.

The curtain that has been drawn back tells him everything, and he practically throws himself against the door. It opens readily.

“Well, then, we can make matters final, can't we, dear foster father? Don't move!” Storvan's voice!

He is standing in the middle of the brightly lit room, a pistol aimed at Voltur. The old gentleman is sitting in his armchair close to the fire, both hands resting on the armrests, looking straight into Storvan's face.

But where is the gardener?

Yitar's stormy entrance distracts Storvan for a moment and the gardener who has been hidden behind the window curtains makes use of it. He throws himself at Storvan and grabs for the hand holding the pistol. Storvan tries to shake him off, and the gun goes off. At that very moment Yitar is upon them, and a skilful pressure to the side of Storvan's neck renders him unconscious.

The shot ...

What has happened?

Voltur is kneeling in front of the fireplace, both hands on the floor. When Yitar approaches him in alarm, the old gentleman looks up and says cheerfully:

“Not yet!”

Yitar exhales in relief, then begins laughing almost hysterically and stammers:

“T-that sounds just like you!”

And so the enormous tension finally breaks in the man who has made it his task to protect the inhabitants of this house, but who could not possibly be everywhere at once. Meanwhile, the gardener has neatly tied Storvan up, and he now awaits removal while they decide what is to be done with the criminal pair.

At that moment the door opens again and the nursemaid enters. At first she stands frozen when her eyes fall upon the bound Storvan. Then she sinks to her knees beside him and wails:

“What have they done to you, my darling! Wait, I'll help you!”

She tries to undo his bonds. Yitar pulls her away and pushes her into one of the armchairs.

“You'll stay right there, my good woman, and you'd better not move. As an accomplice to attempted murder, you could find yourself facing the gallows, so do keep quiet and behave yourself!” Yitar growls at her.

The poor old maid bursts into tears and says nothing more. The good-hearted gardener calls for his wife, who comes and takes care of the former nursemaid. Then all those involved, more or less willingly, make their way to the forester's house, whose windows are now curtained. Antor and Silla are sent for and join them as well.

For the moment, the culprits are seated on chairs and tied securely. And then ... what? What happens now? They cannot very well call the police without ruining the family's good name.

Storvan knows that just as well as everyone else, and his spirits revive. He grins around at them and slouches back in his chair as far as his bonds allow.

“Well? At a loss? Or shall we risk a scandal?” he asks maliciously. Silla gives him a contemptuous look, and Antor growls under his breath. Hama looks at Rollo and spits in his face.

Yitar has withdrawn into the background. He sits there in the shadows and remains quiet. At Voltur's signal, the housekeeper and her husband have withdrawn.

Voltur looks at his foster son.

“No, we don't want a scandal. It would ruin you too, in case you haven't realised that yet, dear ‘son’. But that seems not to matter to you. Well, you have certainly made your position very clear. We shall act accordingly.”

“You can't do a thing to me!” Storvan laughs.

“I don't intend to do anything to you!” Voltur replies. Storvan swallows in surprise.

Hama, Antor and Silla look up sharply. What does Voltur mean?

“We are going to send you away immediately – so far away that you won't be coming back any time soon. To the other side of the world, in fact. I own a farm there. You can run it if you wish. To make sure you don't simply run away again, my people will see to it that you remain there. The island belongs to me and me alone.

“You are all banished for life. You will be taken away as soon as I can arrange transport.”

Rollo begins to whine, and the nursemaid looks deeply unhappy as well. Storvan, however, spits on the floor and says nothing more.

Voltur turns to the forester.

“Can you keep the three of them locked up at your place until tomorrow?”

The forester nods.

“They won't enjoy it,” he remarks dryly.

And that much is certainly clear.

Apart from the three prisoners and the forester, the entire party returns to the house. Hama goes with them, because he still has a task to perform.

“Well, I have a few letters to write now,” Voltur explains. “And Hama, I'd like you to deliver them tonight. Will you do me that favour?”

Hama nods and sits down in a corner to wait.

Yitar has held his tongue until now, but he must speak.

“I know of a ship that can take the prisoners to their destination. And I am willing to put them aboard, if you let Hama accompany me and provide a carriage. I intend to leave tomorrow, because my time here is over.”

There is an immediate chorus of protest from the siblings. They refuse point-blank to let Yitar go.

“We had hoped you would stay with us for a very long time, dear Yitar!” Silla says, looking at him pleadingly. Antor agrees and adds:

“You know it isn't only out of gratitude. We already think of you as a member of the family. Please stay!”

Yitar shakes his head.

“I have been here too long already. You know the saying: a guest is like a fish. After three days, he begins to smell. It is time for me to move on, and this way I can immediately make myself useful.

“It is an honour and a pleasure that you have taken me in so warmly, but I am a bird of passage. Don't try to keep me. It won't work.

“But I shall always think of you as my family.”

Voltur looks thoughtfully at Yitar.

“I understand, and I shall not try to stop you. On the contrary: I am grateful to you – for everything you have done for us, and also because you are now taking a great worry off my shoulders. Enjoy the remaining hours of this night with us and get some rest.”

He speaks to Yitar as an equal, and that is how he regards him. At his signal, everyone withdraws to rest during the final hours of the night.

The next morning Yitar is already ready to leave. Hama is ready for the journey as well and carries the letters that are to travel with the prisoners.

The farewell is brief.

As soon as the prisoners have been loaded into the carriage, Hama takes his place on the box and gathers up the reins. Yitar sits beside him. One final farewell rings out behind them.

And then the carriage rolls away – into a new story.