Authors: Natasja Hellenthal
CHAPTER
8
Cold are the western winds in both summer and in winter days
Long are the hours in wait
But I’ll wait the time to come
What else can I do, then waving with the wind, feeling the worms eating my toes away, blind and deaf like them, but still awfully aware.
When,
oh when will you release me from this dreadful fate I was not intended to be?
Oh, please someone
… where are the birds and the squirrels? Can’t you hear the plea from my crying lonely soul?
Will it be tomorrow? Will it last another year? Will it be a dozen years or will it be a century?
Will I still be here when the world dies, burning alive, or will I have to wait in vain until I wither away, slowly; like the rest of the trees…
When entering the wood they were very alert and rode slowly on the sandy path through the oak and beech trees. It was unusually quiet with no sign of birds in the canopy, or other life.
‘
A Silent Place again,’ Artride concluded.
Tirsa
’s heartbeat pounded in her throat when she remarked, ‘I believe there is a reason why there is no life here, other than these odd twisted trees, I mean just look at them.’ She tugged at the reins to halt the horse, and they both had a better look at the trees. If one never really cared to look at an oak or a beech tree no difference would be found, but for Tirsa and Artride, who had both grown up close to nature – Zoria and Ceartas both being covered with mixed dense woods – it looked like the trees had some sort of disease or growth defect.
‘
They are smaller and more twisted than other oaks, I should say,’ Artride said with a gasp.
‘
Especially these beeches. Maybe due to a growing disorder, a disease or a hostile kind of soil,’ and Tirsa jumped off, knelt down and removed the dry leaves, cupping a handful of dark soil.
‘
Hmm, the soil seems alright, but who knows what’s in it exactly.’ And she stared at the oak tree in front of her; a sturdy trunk with a rough bark, green with a layer of moss and with long twisted branches spread widely and reaching towards the sky, like they were arms either begging for help or surrendering. The leaves were smaller and less in number than a healthy oak tree would have, but showed no sign of disease.
‘
They seem so sad,’ the queen remarked, staring with sympathetic eyes.
Tirsa got up and walked over to her.
‘Hmm, something is amiss with them alright.’
Artride laid a hand on the tall
, twisted beech tree in front of her, feeling its smooth grey bark. Instantly she pulled her hand back. Tirsa looked at her with alarm. ‘What is wrong?’
With an incredulous look, she stared back. ‘It’s warm! I never felt a tree bark so warm when not standing in the sun!’ and she repeated the gesture and tried to focus on the spirit of the tree, using her power to heal. Energy radiated from her to that of the slender tree, first soothing and calming and then feeling its weak life-spark awaken under her touch, giving it strength. She leaned forward until her forehead touched the warm bark, feeling its confused sad spirit vibrating through her soul, whispering,
Heeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllpppppppppppppmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Quickly she broke contact, stumbling backwards.
Tirsa jumped to catch her.
‘It spoke, Tirsa,’ she muttered after a short silence. ‘It … no –
she
spoke to me.’ She had never heard trees speak to her before, or any other being when she healed a person. It had felt like some sort of mind link.
Tirsa could see her swallow away her fear before she held a hand to her chest to sooth
e her own rapid beating heart. ‘What … did it say?’
‘
Help me.’ And she glanced back at the tree, sorry for having broken the link, but frightened at the same time.
‘
I have felt life in trees before and their calm soothing content strength, but not such a helpless spirit and never with a voice. It … did not really feel like a tree at all. It felt human.’
‘
Congratulations!’ a low creaky voice announced suddenly.
The women looked in the direction of the voice and Tirsa
drew her sword at the same time. A small, sturdy man examined them from behind a tree, with oval deep covered eyes. He was humanoid, but looked very much like a stocky tree with his long arms, one longer then the other with long woody fingers and green fingernails, and his skin was leathery and grey-brown like an old leaf. He wore no clothes, but his slender body was covered with tangles of moss and dry leaves and branches. It appeared he had no neck, and on his head tiny branches grew instead of hair. His wrinkled face, like that of an old man, was hard to read; however his amber eyes sparkled bright in a combination of joy and wickedness.
‘
Good woman, you guessed right,’ he added cheerfully, and stepped closer.
‘
Halt, no further!’ Tirsa stated sternly, pointing her sword at him, sensing his wickedness.
The tree creature
’s mouth twisted into a broad smile, but his eyes didn’t show a sign of amusement.
‘
That’s my line, girl, but I wanted to be kind, because this lady here guessed for the first time in years.’
The
queen gestured to Tirsa to lower her weapon and asked the tree creature, ‘I guess that these trees are not trees at all, but humans trapped?’ and she narrowed her eyes so that they were almost closed and added, ‘Like you, only you stand somewhere in the middle of some changing process, how come?’ She stepped closer. Tirsa widened her eyes in amazement, like the little man.
It took him a little while to recover.
‘You are in no position to ask the questions. That’s my task. So, who are you?’ His voice creaked like old wood .
‘
I see,’ she was a little reluctant to give him their names. Names held a certain power and when you gave a name, especially here, people who knew magic could use it for better or for worse. But she remembered Roalda’s words that names were irrelevant and decided not to make him angry, but to stay polite to keep out of trouble.
‘
Well, I am Queen Artride of Ceartas,’ and she laid her left hand upon her heart. ‘And this is Commander Tirsa Lathabris of the Seventh Company.’ The two women exchanged a quick glance, Tirsa gave her a half smile.
‘
Yeah, yeah, Queen, Commander, Seventh Company … like I care.’ He muttered like he was talking to somebody else.
‘
We came to visit the powerful sorceress of this land,’ the queen began in a kind voice.
‘Perhaps you know where we can find her?
’
‘
Enough!’ his eyes glowed fiercely.
‘
Wait a minute tree man, this happens to be a queen and you do not talk like that to a queen,’ Tirsa said . This seemed to upset the tree creature even more and his face was set in lines of dissatisfaction, and now his eyes glowed red.
Maybe he will set fire to himself if he gets too angry.
she thought, not intimidated by him at all.
‘
Hush, Tirsa, let me handle this.’ And she turned. ‘We do not want to be disrespectful, sir, but now you know our names, can we have yours, that’s only courtesy.’
‘
My name is of no importance to you, I am a guard. You know where you are and I am here to prevent the land from any unwanted company.’
‘
Unwanted? But we would like to ask permission to enter. Do I have to address to you?’ Artride asked kindly.
‘
These are the rules; I ask the questions and you answer. Simple as life should be, right?’
‘Go ahead, ask anything you want if you let us pass.’
‘Only if your answers are correct, shall I let you pass, lady. If not … look around.’ Artride’s heart sank and she knew what he was going to say. ‘That is what your fate will be.’ His mean eyes lit up in his cracked brown face.
She wanted to ask so many questions
, but she remembered what the guard had said and held back. He saw her reluctant expression and smiled viscously.
‘How difficult can it be?’ she whispered to Tirsa, but then she looked around and there were so many twisted trees; a whole wood, maybe a hundred, maybe more. ‘Poor souls.’
‘Exactly Artride, and I do not want you to turn into a tree, so I will answer any question he has.’
They spoke soft
ly, so that the tree guard could not hear them.
‘We are in this together, remember?’
Together.
It sang in Tirsa’s head.
She nodded finally.
‘Have you made up your mind?’
‘We have. State your rules, please
, and they better be fair ones.’ Artride spoke loudly and her eyes shone dark and straight at him.
‘You can always go back to where you came from.’ The
tree guard shrugged.
‘No, we cannot.’
He came a little closer and halted a few steps in front of them. Tirsa could smell his sweat, like rotting mulch.
‘I have four riddles for you. And only if you have solved them all may
you enter. There is only one answer and you can only guess once.’
Queen and bodyguard exchanged glances and Artride looked a little pale.
‘Riddles? You didn’t mention that.’
‘Riddles, questions; it’s the same to me. A fact is a fact, an opinion is an opinion and you have riddles
…’
Only one truth
…
Tirsa thought.
‘Four riddles for each of us?’
‘Four riddles for both, no more. You can solve them together as one, ‘cause an unsolved riddle is like a wood with no trees.’
‘Isn’t there anything else we can offer you?’ Artride suddenly suggested and leaned forward in an appealing way. ‘Anything?’ and she winked at him.
His human side was affected by her charm and turned silent as his eyes became milder. ‘But my riddles …’
‘I am sure there will be other candidates for them.’ And she looked around, while he stared at her, licking his dry lips. Well, there had been, but lately over the last twenty years only three and all failed of course. His riddles were his job and his life
…
He stepped back and realised just in time she was trying to empower him, like another young woman once had done, decades ago. He didn’t want to think about her and the trap she had set for him
…
‘No! That can take years! It’s up to you; solve my riddles or leave. What’s it going to be?’
Artride bit her lip in dissatisfaction and avoided Tirsa’s prying eyes. She understood the queen had wanted to do it her way, but had failed and now it was her turn.
‘Neither!’ she screamed and threw herself quickly upon him, but when she reached the floor he was gone. Surprised she gazed around to find him on the lowest branch of an oak tree to her right. She didn’t want to show her frustration. He laughed and while she stood
, she hastily faced Artride.
‘Come on let’s go.’
She softly grabbed her arm and guided her to her horse, which was waiting impatiently. She clutched the reins, put a foot in one stirrup and hauled herself onto Fiosa, extending a helping hand to the queen. Tirsa could clearly see she had her doubts.
‘You think I shall let you pass?’ and he side
-glanced theatrically at the silent trees around them.
‘He is bluffing, Artride.’ And still
she held her extended hand in front of her. They exchanged glances, that of Artride afraid and insecure. However, she did lay her hand in hers, trusting her, building on her years of knowledge in the army, forgetting her own gained wisdom in dealing with people. She only wanted to follow Tirsa, anywhere. When she looked into her eyes she seemed to forget her worries and her country and … everything. She was getting selfish.
Sitting behind her companion and seeing the determined eyes of the
tree guard, she understood their mistake.
Tirsa didn’t look at him, but guided the horse gingerly past him. ‘He is half a tree himself
,’ she reassured the queen. ‘This sorceress must have done this to him. He has no powers, otherwise he would turn himself back into a man, wouldn’t he?’ she said loud enough for him to hear.
‘So you want proof of my power, is that it?’
She is playing with fire. Artride was thinking and held her breath. I should do something to stop her!
Promptly his stocky figure stood in front of them and made a simple waving gesture with one hand towards Tirsa. The leaves of the trees around them were rustling, even though there had been no wind. She felt a tingling cold feeling in the fingers of her right hand and stared at her numbing hand which soon stiffened. The skin turned grey-brown and became thicker. Her eyes
opened wide in distress. She grabbed her right arm with her left hand and her face turned pale from fear and pain. She couldn’t feel her hand anymore and noticed grimly that her nails fell off and drops of blood fell with them as tiny branches replaced the nails. Slowly the branches grew, longer and longer, and fresh green leaves folded themselves open, and the painful tingling feeling moved up her arm towards her elbow and then up to her shoulder until her whole arm had turned into a branch with leaves.