He was the architect of what was said to be the most beautiful garden of all. Count Minz, as insatiable as no other, was never satisfied with obtaining the rarest species from South America or Asia. For him there had to be a balance of colors, sizes and scents supported by saguaros, eucalyptus, rosemaries, bush lilies, Alpine violets and many other plants that few men in the world knew.
And yet our Count, the most admired man in the land of Millow, felt that something was missing in that golden dawn. In fact, it was a feeling that came over him every day when he awoke to see his beloved garden. He often thought he should add a new species to his collection as he strolled through it. But it wasn't that. It wasn't that at all.
In the middle of that morning, the Count was still wandering through his perfect greenery looking for some answer when, strangely, a cold and violent wind blew eastward that summer.
This wind knocked the little Count down and, surprised, he could only see this as a divine answer to his greatest existential doubt. Then he cried out to the morning and to the living beings, plants and animals, that surrounded him in grace:
"I know, I know what is that thing will satiate my soul! I must add more gardens to my collection. I will visit the neighboring lands and beyond, and I will take their gardens without their inhabitants even being able to refuse all the gold I have to offer them.”
The count was so excited by this idea that he did not hesitate to leave that very day to execute his conquest.
Then, in a rush, he was already coming out of his castle with Baobant, his Arabian horse of shining brown coat. Hurrying and laughing, he listened to his two advisers, who were walking nervously on either side of the horse.
Fruzwith, the senior adviser, said to him with obvious nervousness:
“Sir, stop this foolishness. Don't you see that all you have here is worth much more than anything you can get out there, and that, there being no war in Millow for more than a thousand years, you can bring in one that will last longer by looking for trifles?”
Count Charles halted his whinnying horse at such a question, but before he could reply, he was approached by Villazar, his youngest advisor. He, smiling, said:
"My lord, know that the people of Millow County think well of you. You follow in the path of your father, Count Louis, in wanting to gain more attributes for our territory. We all, including myself, want Millow to be greater. May God guide you and our warriors help you to conquer what your brilliant mind desires."
Count Charles' pride embraced these words with great force and before the day was out, he set out with his little troop to conquer his new longing. A troop that would serve to defeat those who did not want gold.
One, two, three... soon numerous gardens of different sizes and colors were added to the Count's domain for a few gold coins. These inclusions were quickly made known to the people of Millow through the messengers of the county who went like the wind, unrestrained hither and thither
Then came a period of time in which the messengers did not appear. Several days passed and there was no news at all about the Count and his troop. It was then that every kind of rumor was heard in the Central Square of Millow: "they killed the Count", "they will finish us off", "they will conquer Millow", "the Count fell in love with a princess".
This distrust in the Count and his abilities made Villazar see red, so he climbed to the top of a fountain once and said angrily:
"Silence! Just because Count Charles hasn't returned doesn't mean the end. Out there, who knows what he must have faced? Surely the messengers are waiting to reveal that the Count has already bought all the gardens in Europe."
Villazar said this trying to calm people, but he himself was not calm. He thought he had advised the Count badly. The wait was long. As long as the constant complaints Fruzwith was making to him.
Despite their differences, the two advisers took turns each day to see when the messengers would appear on the horizon. They watched from the Count's own wooded castle, which was so verdant in its structure that it looked like an extension of the Central Garden.
Fruzwith and Villazar were seemed as good advisers, but not so good watchers. Later, on such a cool dawn as that on which the Count decided to leave, the thunderous sound of a horn resounded through the county several times without the advisers ever being aware of it.
But it was the ordinary people who, always full of vitality and curiosity, noticed the unusual sound that dawn. Some fled Millow, thinking it was an invasion, while others gathered in the central square preparing to face whatever came against them.
However, the villagers were neutralized before the first arrow was shot. They began to weep as they fell to their knees at the sight of the unmistakable figure of their Count riding his Baobant, who looked as bad as its rider.
It was nearly half an hour before the battered Count reached the square. And then, just as Millow people wanted to approach him, he got down from his horse and waved his hand for them to stop.
Count Charles sounded again the horn that had earlier echoed through the county. This was a call to all, even to the cowards who earlier thought an invasion was coming. Though few returned, the Count finally spoke his first words:
"I'm here, see—he took off his broken helmet—your Count has returned alive. I have won Millow a dozen new gardens.”
The shout of jubilation was not long in coming from the people of the county. It was a real racket.
“However—repeated the Count several times before they all were silent— the conquest has not been easy and it is not over yet. You celebrate for me, but shame on you that you see that my troops no longer accompany me. They died in battle."
After these words, even the exhausted Baobant snorted in a deeply saddened manner.
“I promise—continued the Count— by God, by my noble father and all you people of Millow, that the death of these honored warriors will not be in vain. The last battle will be here, in my own garden, before you. I will hold an ultimate joust to win the sacred garden from the county of Isbuml, our historic rival."
Everyone was stunned at this news, but seeing the unchanging seriousness on Count Charles's face, everyone ran to do his bidding.
“We only have until next noon to get everything ready," said the Count before leaving the county doctors to cure him.
It was only a few hours after this that Fruzwith and Villazar awoke from their rest. They soon noticed the tense atmosphere around them and knew, without asking anyone, that Count Charles had arrived, but not so well.
As much as they wanted to see their lord, they could not. The doctors imposed an absolute rest for the Count so that he could be well for his joust.
"You see how far you took the Count?" demanded Fruzwith to Villazar after finding out everything.
"The land of Millow has never been for cowards, Fruzwith. Our Count and his warriors have given their all for glory," Villazar replied haughtily.
"And it hasn't been a land for the prudent ones neither," the older adviser added before getting lost somewhere in the Wooded Castle .
It was noon the next day. There were two sides. One at each end of Count Charles's Central Garden. He was mounted on his Baobant in a shining, regal silver armor that his father once wore. He also had a shield made of oak in his left hand and in his other one, a medium-sized lance with strange ornamental petals at the base of the pointed head.
Almost on a bull-like creature, and not so much on a horse, was mounted Count Riszam Al-Kalet. On his formidable beast, the regent of Isbuml County looked confident and eager to begin the joust to show off to his people, who had come from so far away. His armor looked as sturdy as his opponent's, and his battle weapons were of abnormally large proportions. Rumors had it that they were made from the remains of the terrible beasts that this Count had defeated for years.
And it happened. The horses began to ride swiftly to the meeting of the lances in an unprecedented joust. Before each contender thought of knocking down the other, several people from one side and the other had already fainted. Where there had always been peace, now there was only tension. Even the saguaros seemed to fade before the imminent clash of the Counts.
But, to everyone's surprise, there was only a dry thud, as if it were a giant coconut falling from in the sky. The counts were just as well protected!
This unsatisfactory result led to both of them trying to knock each other down several more times, but with no more news than a few cracks in their very strong shields.
No one in the garden moved, no one took their eyes off the Counts' next move.
Baobant whinnied at one extreme of the garden. His restlessness denoted that something unusual was about to happen. Then it was when, raising his lance to the sky, Count Charles faintly uttered a phrase, whether it was in Italian, Latin or Hebrew, we do not know. And, as if by magic, vines sprang from some corner of the garden, heading straight for the legs of Count Riszam's horse. No matter how hard he struggled, the horse could not get rid of this unexpected binding.
The audience, which until recently had been mute, now screamed like mad at such an event, which, in fact, did not stop there. After seizing his adversary's horse, Count Charles strangely moved his lance again and many of the plants lying in the garden went to attack Count Riszam, including some giant carnivorous plants of the species Dionaea muscipula, which no one in Millow had ever seen before.
While this was going on, Fruzwith and Villazar watched each other's faces as if searching for some semblance of logic. However, there was not much time for speculation, for everyone's curiosity was whether Count Charles would finish off his adversary in this way.
Surprisingly, that was not the case. Before Count Charles' plants reached their target, Count Riszam flashed a mischievous smile and made a quick, but loud snap. This subtle gesture was followed by the appearance, it is not known whether from a cloud or from some cave in the mountains, of a fearsome black dragon.
It was a giant, flaming creature with four long wings, claws like saws and an anvil-tipped tail.
"Did you think I would come unprepared from so far away? Count Minz, you weren't the only one hiding an ace up your sleeve. I hope you're ready to lose everything," Count Riszam said at the top of his lungs before his dragon started burning the plants coming towards him and the rest of the garden.
Seeing his great creation being burned by a creature he believed to be mythological, Count Charles dropped his lance and shield. His defeat was as imminent as was his remorseful face. He turned to look one last time at his people and made a gesture of forgiveness, bowing in front of them just before he could see no more.
About this northern Italian legend, it is said that Count Riszam was indeed able to fight back that time, for in Millow there was an infiltrator of his who was none other than Villazar. Just the name that some lost northern Italian farming village bears today.
