Panorama (30 page)

On Saturday the scouts don their clean, good smocks and head off cheerfully to the ranger’s house, where they are led into the great room, which they know from the day of their arrival, the tables bowing under the weight of the mountains of blackberry cake, as well as dark blueberry wine, which some cast doubtful gazes at, though Herr Brosch assures them, “There’s no alcohol in it, so anyone can have some.” Indeed, it’s fresh berry juice, which everyone likes, but it makes their limbs feel heavy, it being as avidly shoved at them as the cake, such that a sugar rush comes to their heads, but then some wonderful coffee is brought out, which helps wake up the Wanderers once again, as they sing and laugh, telling a couple of legends from their history, until it grows late and Alfred suggests that it’s time to head home, all of them saying goodbye after one last song. Outside the night is dark and gloomy, and so they take the long way back and not the shortcut, for that would be too creepy, though Willi begins to tell ghost stories that he has made up on his own, such as the one about the old crone who lives in Landstein Castle and still wanders the countryside, suddenly appearing in the old city, then causing trouble in the catacombs of the cloister as she throws bones out of the coffins, though she prefers to stay in these woods on nights when there’s no moon, wrapped in a long sheet, and when she walks nearby the woods rustle with a light wind, her eyes lit up with a sick green color like two swamp spirits, and whomever she meets she shocks with an electric charge, shrieking “Memento mori!” At the same time, Willi gives one of the novices a light hit in the chest, then he goes on with his story, until once again he lets out a ghastly “Memento mori!” and scares another with a shove, some of the novices getting really frightened, while most of them think of it as fun.

When Willi tells a story that everyone likes, Alfred reminds FHF that he shouldn’t forget to mention these mortal tales in his history, and so FHF makes sure to take note of it all as he writes it down and embellishes it with archaic language, now and then reading from the history back at the meetinghouse. All important incidents are called the Acts of the Knights, but only at the camp can a Wanderer first rise to the level of knighthood. Alfred had founded the Order of the Knights three years ago, naming himself the Great Commander, all the boys in the camp at the time being made knights, though FHF was the only one to turn down this honor, for he wanted always to remain the court jester. FHF explained that because of this he could never be a part of the order, but he is prepared to remain loyal to the illustrious Great Commander and the august Order of the Knights and to serve them as court jester, which everyone agreed to, FHF always fulfilling his position as ably as possible. It was also then decided that membership in the pack did not automatically guarantee membership in the order, yet every novice could be recognized as a candidate for entry if he so wished, FHF the only one in the pack who had never wanted to join. Whoever applies is soon taken and accepted among the knights, each servant recommended by his knight to become a knave as early as the third hiking trip, as long as the Great Commander approves and no knight raises objections, though as a knave one still stands below his knight and must support him in all matters of question among the order, but at the same time one can in a joking manner pretend that he’s not interested in being accepted, though you have to make sure that it’s taken the right way.

The culmination of the process of being named a knight takes place at the
bal paré
, which one can dress up for, yet hardly anyone does, for most like to save their best efforts for the Festival of the Knights of the Great Commander. At the
bal paré
they show up at the large table in the woods, lamps having been placed upon it, and at each seat a plate full of sweet berries, the Great Commander presiding from above, the oldest two knights on each side of him, the younger knights and the knaves filling out the table to the other end, for none of them are servants, since at the camp everyone is considered at least a knave, the court jester sitting at the far end. The Great Commander opens the
bal paré
with words by saying loudly that the knights will soon get the festivities under way and that they should add
to their old heroic ventures, in order that the Landstein Castle Camp do honor to its predecessors and set an illustrious example for the heroes to come in later generations, while in his capacity as Great Commander he also tenderly acknowledges the young but brave knaves, who most certainly should meet with no opposition in being accepted today into the circle of knights, though first the Great Commander has to make sure that the knaves have memorized the sacred rules and mores of the aforementioned circle of knights and taken them to heart, to which purpose he then passes the tankard round the circle. The tankard is a milk can that holds almost twelve liters and for the
bal paré
is not filled with the usual punch but with hot chocolate instead. The Great Commander lifts it to his lips in order to take a strong drink, all the other knights doing likewise and acknowledging him, though no knight who cares about his honor allows a single drop to fall, while hardly anyone succeeds at this, since throughout the ceremony there’s a lot of joking around and laughter, causing almost everyone to spill a bit or to choke, especially the knaves, since even if it were quiet they would barely be able to handle drinking from the monstrous tankard. The court jester, who is the last to drink, outstrips all the other knights in terms of poise, because no matter how long he drinks from the tankard he doesn’t spill a drop, for even if the others try to make him laugh the court jester still maintains his focus. Once everyone has drunk from it, the tankard is set back down on the table, which is brown by now with a fresh coat of chocolate, a cover set on the tankard so that the hot chocolate doesn’t cool, since until the end of the
bal paré
they will drink from it until the tankard is emptied of its last drop.

Three times the Great Commander pounds hard on the table with his fist, which is what is always done if someone wants to speak, for that way you can be heard and the others will quiet down. The Great Commander then asks those knights who have a knave assigned to them to tell the high assembly of their virtues and heroic acts in order that the illustrious circle of knights can savor and be refreshed by their uplifting examples, and so that it will be clear whether the aspiring knaves will be worthy of being accorded the distinction and honor of becoming a knight. At this, one knight after another pounds three times on the table in order to praise his knave, whereby an extended adventure unfolds which the Great Commander of the circle of
knights allows to proceed. Pony is the knave of Hans, who tells of what he thinks is the truly considerable achievement of his knave’s wandering off and being rescued from the ancient forest on the first night after their arrival, which the entire circle of knights acknowledges is a truly heroic feat, all of them proposing (with only FHF abstaining, since as a sanctioned guest of the circle of knights he is not allowed to propose anything) that the new knight be known by the name of Pony the Night Wanderer, which is supported unanimously. Then Pony has to walk with Hans up to the Great Commander, as Pony kneels down with Hans standing behind him, the Great Commander standing up and placing a cookie in Pony’s mouth and tapping him three times on the shoulder with the flat of his hand, at which the honor is bestowed.

Bambus bangs on the table and proceeds to depict in glowing color the life and accomplishments of his knave, Edgar, who more than anyone surely deserves to be promoted from the rank of knave to that of knight, for if other knights may have achieved unsurpassable accomplishments they pale in comparison with the heroic glow that surrounds the humble Edgar, since in the glorious history of our order surely there is no one who has provided the knights with such uplifting and stomach-filling exhilaration, because although all the cooks of Landstein Castle know how to swing a spoon in masterly fashion, next to Edgar they are mere hacks. This is received with loud applause, but the court jester pounds on the table and says, “Indeed, not even in the Sun King’s court at Versailles was such scrumptious food served as that which Edgar magically coaxed from our meager kettles. Lucullus himself would have compared his fortune with Polycrates and Midas if he had been lucky enough to be a guest at Edgar’s table. Nor should anyone laugh! It certainly is possible. Couldn’t Lucullus indeed have visited the
legio decima
in the woods surrounding Landstein? The only catch lies in the slight time difference between the eras of Edgar and Lucullus which certainly exists. Thus Lucullus had to bite the dust without having tasted Edgar’s rice pudding. However, because of the great service done to us by our cook I ask that this time difference not be seen as a hindrance. I also ask that the knights honor him with the name Edgar the Cook of Lucullus.”

This request by the court jester is also agreed to unanimously, but the jester pounds on the table three times again and says that the only reason he
has gone back in world history to the Romans is that there is a real connection between ancient and modern Landstein through the
legio decima
, though this also made him aware of Fabi’s feelings, for he didn’t want to upset Fabi, knowing how much he was against the damnable monarchy, though Fabi yelled straight back, “There’s no need to bring that up here!” He, however, is immediately called to order as the Great Commander says, “No one is allowed to interrupt someone who has banged on the table three times!” Then the court jester asserts that he can say what he wants, for he is after all the court jester, and he has to confess that at first he wanted Edgar’s name to be Head Cook to the Sun King. At this Fabi bangs three times on the table so hard that the tankards rattle, as he yells that it doesn’t matter to him in the least, and that it’s a joke whether Edgar is called Head Cook to the Sun King, nor is he among the knights necessarily against monarchy, but rather just the present monarchy, since it’s so worthless, at which Josef pounds on the table and says, “In some youth organizations everything is voted upon. They even vote about friendships, asking who is for someone and who is against. But there’s no sense in voting about something that can’t be decided or that nothing can be done about. But if folks want to vote, then the knights can put to a vote whether they are for or against the monarchy.” Everyone laughs at this, though Fabi adds in all seriousness, “Of course we can vote about it!” Willi then states, “We can take that up at the annual gathering, if everyone thinks it’s important.” Then Alfred pounds on the table and says, “My noble knights, courageous knaves, and my dear court jester! We should not ignore the important issue of the monarchy, but perhaps instead at the Festival of the Great Commander we could hold a debate between Knight Fabi and the court jester. There is not enough time now, we need to move ahead with our nominations for knighthood. The noble Knight Bambus has presented his knave, Edgar, before me so that I may commemorate the promotion of this knave to knighthood.”

Bambus then steps forward with Edgar, Edgar kneels down, and then the same thing happens as with Pony, though as soon as a cookie is held out to Edgar and he takes a bite of it he begins to spit it out in disgust and yells, “Ugh, that’s soap!” What his eyes couldn’t see in this light, the tongue tasted immediately, for shortly before the evening began Alfred and Willi had cut a piece off a soft bar of soap and shaped it exactly like the cookie Pony was
given, this being a bit of payback for the burned rice pudding and even more for the hard work of having to clean the kettles afterward, though graciousness is still the order of the day, for the legitimacy of Edgar’s promotion is still recognized, even though he has decidedly refused to swallow his soap cookie. Meanwhile, more promotions follow, the tankard passing quickly around the circle a number of times, each new knight receiving two cookies as Pony did, Edgar indeed getting three, though he looks closely at each before he eats them. After this the berries are passed out, a rule of the
bal paré
forbidding the use of a spoon or one’s hands, as instead you must either pick out the berries with your mouth or pour the berries from the bowl directly into your mouth. Most of the berries are blackberries, and soon all the knights’ faces are as black as after a battle, most of them heading down to the creek in the dark in order to wash up, the next morning the stains still visible on their faces, and they have to wash up yet again in order to look like Wanderers and not philistines.

A couple of days later, Alfred learns at the ranger’s house that on the evening of the
bal paré
a boy from Sichelbach, who had been visiting a girl in Markl, passed by the
bal paré
at about ten o’clock at night on his way home, the scene around the campfire frightening him a good deal, for he thought it was Gypsies, of whom this boy was deeply afraid, while probably as a result he thought that evil spirits and magicians had been let loose, which then caused him to run wild with fear back to Markl, from which he dared set foot on the path home again only at first light, the farmers from Markl and Sichelbach indeed laughing so much over the scaredy-cat, since everyone in the villages had long known about the pack, as did the boy, for he had walked repeatedly by the camp by day and by night. The Wanderers also all laughed, the younger ones proud that they had already passed the test of staying alone in the woods for a night, nor had they ever really trembled during Willi’s ghost stories. FHF, however, makes a serious face and says that perhaps not everything is as it usually is once the Wanderers transform themselves into an order of knights, for that goes back to the Middle Ages, when the world was a strange place full of mystery and terror, leading to fear and uncertainty, FHF believing as well that this has not entirely disappeared, for each of them is still lost amid a sea of fear, able at best to watch out for himself as long as he knows how to swim, though the ability to swim
like this is the true goal of the Wanderers, for the world—so says FHF—is only partially visible on its surface, there being behind it an endless darkness, the philistines living in the darkness and not realizing it, since they themselves are a part of the darkness, unable to distinguish black from black, while when a light appears in the darkness that’s when spirits appear, which could just be a bunch of philistines, though also Wanderers, people learning the strangeness that exists as they sit as if looking through a peephole behind which there is light, though to the philistines the light is unbearable, and that is why they are afraid.