The Dream Maker Read Online Free Page B

themselves, and in all likelihood these mercenaries did not all speak the same language. I saw clearly that our salvation lay in our small size and agility. I led my troop along the riverbank and eventually found, as I had sensed I would, a narrow wooden bridge to cross the inlet. It was a simple, rough-hewn tree trunk, already worn and sagging. All four of us stepped lightly across it. The
écorcheurs
would find it more difficult to cross and, with a bit of luck, it would break beneath their weight. We continued our flight and I kept up a steady rhythm, slower than my companions would have liked. It was out of the question to run until we were exhausted. It might be a long ordeal; we had to preserve our strength.
    I will not go into the details of our misadventure. We made it back to the town after two days and one night, crossing canals astride floating tree trunks, stealing another boat, and making our way past a troop on horseback. We arrived home as night was falling, our skin covered in bramble scratches; we were famished but proud. At no time did I lose my composure. My companions had followed my orders to the letter. I had insisted on their keeping the weapons they had stolen. Thus, we were not only safe, but also victorious.
    In the town there was considerable talk about our adventure. On the basis of the heroic self-aggrandizing tale Éloi had spun, everyone had thought we were dead. He claimed he had followed us to try to hold us back. “I wanted so badly to save them, alas . . . ” and so on. Our return suddenly brought the truth to light. He was punished severely, and, above all, his prestige evaporated instantly. He became the first of many enemies I would make throughout my life, simply by virtue of having exposed their weakness.
    My parents had wept so bitterly at my disappearance that they could not scold me when I turned up. Moreover, the Duke had gotten wind of our adventure and had personally congratulated my father.
    The other three survivors were responsible for my reputation. They described, in all honesty, their own helplessness and my clear-sightedness. Henceforth, although nothing changed in my behavior, everyone began to view me differently. I was no longer taken for a dreamer, but a thoughtful boy, not timid but reserved, not indecisive but cunning. I did not refute these new opinions, but grew accustomed to eliciting admiration and fear with the same indifference that had enabled me to endure scorn and distrust. I gleaned useful reflections from those opinions. Éloi’s defeat allowed me to perceive the existence of a form of authority other than mere physical superiority. Through our entire adventure I had not displayed any particular resilience; several times over my companions had even had to hold me up or help me to my feet. However, I had never stopped being their leader. They deferred to my decisions and did not question my orders. So, there was power and there was strength, and the two things were not always one and the same.
    Strength came from the body, whereas power was the work of the mind. And while I did not clearly distinguish these concepts, I did explore them a bit further, and my thoughts led me, in a way, to the edge of a precipice. While I may have seized power during our adventure thanks to my mind, it was not owing to any particular knowledge. I did not know where we were, nor had I ever been in a similar situation, nor were my decisions based on reason, except perhaps to make us choose the paths that were inaccessible to the roughnecks stalking us. For the most part I had used my intuition, that is, by finding my way through the usual world of my dreams. So, it was my experience of something that did not exist that had enabled me to act and take command in the real world. In a word, dream and reality were not completely separate. This conclusion made me light-headed, and at the time I took it no further.
    At the end of the month, a truce was called and the