‘We do not eat nor drink as you do. As you can probably see, Dryads and animals have little in common.’
Cathryn led the party left along a narrower side street that, after half a mile, began to widen out and leave buildings behind, replaced by fenced fields. The orchard was up ahead and Cathryn left her guard upon the road when she walked towards the apple trees. Riark bade the Dryads wait as well, though they did step onto the soil, breathing deep in an unconscious approximation of relief.
Cathryn settled cross-legged upon the grass and after a moment regarding her, Riark mimicked.
‘Better?’ she asked, watching incredulous as roots struck out from where his legs met the ground, driving into the soil. His face cracked into a smile.
‘The fish is back in water,’ he nodded, once again with that creaking and drunken heaviness.
She smiled politely and folded her arms not only against the cold but to conceal an adrenaline tremor.
‘What brings you to the Folly?’ she asked.
Riark sat up straighter than a human would find comfortable, and it made Cathryn’s back complain watching him.
‘Over the past centuries there has been equilibrium in the forest. Your people have been mostly absent for a long, long time though I knew of your continuing existence here and elsewhere.’
‘There has always been deforestation to a certain extent, but this was part of the natural order of things. There are many of your kind who show deference to the forest; a few in the Hinterland and the whores of the Drift even bring us offerings.’ He smiled weakly at this and Cathryn sensed that such offerings were akin to murderers sending gifts to his victim’s family.
‘The deforestation in the north of this continent has been unacceptable of late. As I appear to you now, when we roam abroad, we are beyond destruction, but should our Mother Trees be felled, then we are lost from the forests of this world. Lord Linwood and his road-building have caused such destruction and loss of my kind that I am forced to stand forward and intervene. I have warned him in no uncertain terms to desist. I come to you with a somewhat cooler disposition and, I hope, you can see I offer you respect. I come to ask that all work on the road stops for now. We can, perhaps, discuss a way of connecting your lands, but a route straight through is, to me, cause for war. And, I might add, that is a war in which your kind would not fare well.’
Cathryn’s face contorted and settled into a painful frown.
‘Linwood has made much progress with his road?’ she said softly.
‘He has.’ Then, realising, ‘You were unaware?’
Cathryn shook her head, looking at the grass swaying to Riark’s right. She wondered whether divulging anything to this creature would be wise.
‘Since we defeated Awgren, I have had concerns that Lord Linwood means to seize this continent for himself. I had heard of his plans for a road, but knew not how far it had progressed. I gave the Impassable Forest royal protection and named it a crime for any to touch it. It seems I was correct about Linwood. I sent a loyal ally, Lord Aldwyn, to govern the Hinterland in order to place a barrier between Linwood’s lands in Crinan and the forest. This is troubling news, indeed.’
A new thought troubled her, and she looked up at Riark’s face, finding it difficult to fix his gaze given that his eyes had no pupils and no iris for a marker.
‘You have my assurance, the Combined People do not approve of such works, and I apologise for the actions of one of my lords. Or one who was one of my lords. I name him a traitor and assure you I will not let his treachery go unpunished. Order will be restored.’
Riark nodded and a green tendril at the back of his neck tensed then snapped. Cathryn shuddered, but Riark did not react, save to look quizzically at her. She dismissed her reaction with a wave of her hand, and he spoke up.
‘My people are at your disposal. We can be back in the Drift in a moment. Would you have us seize this Linwood or convey a message?’
Cathryn sat straighter, clasping her hands together in her lap.
‘You would be willing to act as an envoy?’
Riark’s smile was patient.
‘I will convey a message.’ The queen’s cheeks reddened as she realised she had done her guest a discourtesy. Riark either paid no heed or did not notice her reaction as he continued, ‘and if necessary, I will act on your behalf.’
Cathryn mused for a time, turning each option over in her mind and weighing up the likely outcomes.
She sighed and did something to which she was not accustomed – she opened up to Riark.
‘Linwood presents me with a dilemma,’ she admitted. He cocked his head and waited for her to continue, which, after a sigh, she did.
‘Throughout my entire reign and for the last centuries, the Combined People have focused all their intent on reclaiming our homelands and defeating Awgren. I must admit I dreamed of viewing lush green lands from up there…’ she pointed up at the Maw Keep, ‘…after years of recovery. I’ve been picturing shining new cities and smooth, straight roads; farms, sapling forests and peace.’ She smiled ruefully. Riark’s face did not shift or alter.
‘It is not the way,’ he said. ‘If an enemy is overcome, humans always turn upon one another. You united to address a threat to your people and your lands. That threat is gone, and now your people will decide upon a new threat. Your Lord Linwood thinks of you as the threat to his domination over his own lands, life and people. You in turn will view him as a threat to stability in your pre-existing realm. It is and always was exhausting to us.’
He waved a hand towards the nearest visible curtain wall.
‘This…your Folly, it all came from the same problem. Even before Awgren, your peoples were separated into countries for no reason other than someone decided to plant a flag or maintain a border. It is in your nature.’
‘And not in yours?’
Riark swept back the tendrils of his mane behind his ears, and it seemed so human a gesture from one so alien that it surprised the queen.
‘It was in my nature when I was a man. Still in my nature when I was reborn as a sapling. The tendencies of our old lives fade as the years and centuries grow and die.’ He smiled and before she could remark on his comments, he ploughed on.
‘The Dryad nation is not territorial in the same way. We do not conquer. We are the trees, wherever they may be. We have no ranks or titles or property.’
‘And yet you style yourself King?’
‘Only in this form,’ he smiled. ‘We have no language in other forms. I am not of a noble bloodline - we don’t have bloodlines at all. I suppose I am the voice of the forest. All hear my voice, though not all obey. I interpret the beating heart of the woodlands and act in accordance with their wishes, I suppose.’
He crackled a laugh.
‘I had not given it much thought at all. With us, much is just…known. It is hard to understand for your kind.’
‘So there are no contenders for your crown then?’ said Cathryn.
‘It is not in our nature to contend. I was not born to my role nor did I vie for it. I became it. It is possible for me to be killed if another desired it. I suppose if one can defeat the living voice of the forest, that Dryad would speak for it anew. But it is not in our nature. We have no fierce instinct to survive as we get older; we simply grow and sometimes overshadow one another. And yet, we have worth and I would not have my people destroyed.’
They sat in silence for a time, but before long a question grew in Cathryn’s mind, and it was not long before she felt she could not resist asking.
‘Forgive me, but I cannot ask this without the anticipation of bitterness seeping into my voice.’
Riark cocked his head once more.
‘Awgren rose up and destroyed my homelands - killed my people. We have been fighting ever since. How came the forest to be untouched? Did you have no impulse to step in and assist? Why have we never spoken before?’
Riark bowed his head and twirled a blade of grass around the crook formed
by his little finger.
‘You must understand that we have no concern for…foreign policy. We look to ourselves and enjoy merely existing. We do not share priorities. We watch you live and die during the time it takes us to contemplate one aspect of our own lives. There is a natural order to existence; cycles of life, suffering, predation and death. We do not stalk out and interfere with others. I would not stop a dark lord crushing a people any more than I would deny a fox his rabbit. Does it make any sense? I have lived as a man and died. All mammals die. There is no sense in interfering.’
Cathryn sighed and hung her head, knowing full well that she should be conveying a more steadfast outlook and that she was giving away far too much. She tilted her head and looked at him sideways. Riark seemed to hear her thoughts.
‘We are not a competing nation nor am I an opposing king,’ he said. ‘Without us, you cannot live. We make the air you breathe and we grow wherever we grow. Territory means very little to our saplings. You have Mother Trees sown throughout your lands.’
She straightened up and looked at him.
‘Can I be frank?’
Riark nodded, ‘You have my word that nothing you say will reach the ears of another.’
‘I have no personal desire to dominate this continent. I am content to have things as they were during our absence from the southern half of this continent. I know that my husband and other lords feel the same. We have a good life and enough of everything we need. I would be happy enough watching the lands flourish again from the Maw Keep or simply spending time with my family away in the Isles.’
‘Then why do you not do so?’
‘Because of Lord Linwood and the minority like him who still have visions of grandeur even after they have seen all wealth and power laid low. He would reclaim his own lands and, I fear, even that would not be enough to satisfy him.’
‘Let him take back his lands then?’ suggested Riark.
‘How long before his eyes turn towards the Folly or the Isles? Even if they never did, there will be others we have yet to meet. Lord Aldwyn discovered a new continent and who knows what lurks there. What new power might attempt to recapture these lands and attempt to destroy my people?’
Riark tried to hide a smile.
‘What amuses you?’ she said.
‘You think there are no trees on the South Continent?’ was his reply. ‘We know something of all the lands of this world, Queen.’
Cathryn opened her mouth to answer, but the implications of this new knowledge overwhelmed her and she remained silent, looking at him.
‘I will not lie – your appearance has overturned much of my thinking.’ She paused. ‘You have much knowledge that would be of value to me and to my kind.’
Riark nodded in acknowledgement.
‘Perhaps it has been for the best that I have revealed my people to you, after all. I feared there would be a war between us that you could not win. I would be willing to share my understanding, if we can come to an agreement regarding the treatment of every tree, every copse and every forest. Perhaps sign a treaty, if it suits you?’ he mused.
Cathryn nodded once, slowly.
‘I believe that could be to the benefit of all. What would you ask of us? I for one would hope we could share knowledge.’ She refrained from mentioning mutual defence, waiting for the Dryad to respond.
‘I understand the need for timber, but wish to end deforestation. Until now, some of my people have died needlessly so that one of yours could sit on a fine chair or perhaps their corpses are built into your siege engines. That is bad enough, but only the people in the Hinterland had any respect with regard to sustaining that from which they took.’
‘The Hinterland?’
Riark nodded.
‘One man in particular showed great deference even as he wreaked destruction, planting a tree for every tree he took. He used every part of those he felled so that nothing was wasted. It’s the best end that a felled tree could expect, but it has been some time since I have seen him about his work,’ he said.
‘The surviving men of the Hinterland have been sent home with Lord Aldwyn. They should be there now,’ said Queen Cathryn.
‘That would explain much. Not long ago I sensed the woodcutter’s presence in the forest once again and found him beneath our boughs,’ Riark said, his voice creaking. He closed his eyes and tendrils of root emerged from his body, thrusting decisively into the soil.
He frowned as he opened his eyes once more.
‘The Hinterland has been ravaged by those who remained of Awgren’s minions. Homes and fields burn. Your Lord Aldwyn is doing what he can and has defeated your enemies there.’
Cathryn felt her heart palpitate at the mention of Aldwyn. A smile crept onto Riark’s face.
‘The woodcutter is very near to his fleeing family now. They travel with refugees from the Hinterland and the shipwrecked crew from one of your vessels. Perhaps they will be reunited soon.’
‘You know all this?’ she said.
‘We are anywhere there is a tree at one time or another,’ he replied.
She thought momentarily and words sprang from her lips.
‘Would the trees know anything of Lord Lachlan?’
Riark shook his head and the vines of his mane flicked back and forth.
‘Not as of yet. The eyes of the forest have not looked for him.’
Cathryn nodded and looked up to the Maw Gate. She felt overwhelmed, as though she was attempting to solve a puzzle that kept extending itself beyond solution. She was beginning to understand Lachlan’s desire to flee. But no, she wasn’t like him and even considering it strengthened her. She straightened up and looked Riark in the eye.
‘We will put an end to the destruction of your forests, King Riark, if you will help me to secure peace in these lands and safeguard them while they recover, acting as watchers on our behalf? Your forest can spread and extend all the way down to the Folly as far as I am concerned, as weregild for all your losses.’
Riark thought for a moment and began to nod slowly.
‘What would you have us do?’
‘If you could send word of Lord Lachlan if you hear anything of him, I would appreciate it. I would have you inform Lord Aldwyn of our treaty and tell him to return to Oystercatcher Bay. I will meet him there and together we will set sail to deal with Lord Linwood.’
‘And how will I vouch for your orders, Queen?’ creaked Riark.
Cathryn thought for a moment and said,
‘Ask him if he has heard any mermaids sing, as they once did outside the Folly walls.’
Chapter Sixteen
In the north of the forest, Lord Linwood and Lady Isobel had ordered the retreat, and all of his people were either out of the forest or were travelling to do so.
To the south only the refugees and Morrick were still in the forest. The woodcutter ran westward in the sinister, dim light under the canopy.
This is no use.
His foot snarled under an up-thrust loop of root. He yelped and threw out his hands automatically. They delved deep into the mud and a sharp pain shot through Morrick’s right palm. Upon raising his hand, he saw blood was flowing and mingling with the slick dirt where the flint had lacerated his skin. He stayed on his knees, looked at his hand for a moment then up at the trees. A gust of wind made them sway sideways, but in his irritation, Morrick took it as an amused shrug of the shoulders as though the forest was suppressing a laugh. He cursed and regained his feet, but any impulse to continue onwards had been replaced by rage. He roared his frustration into the sky until all the breath was gone from his lungs then paced a tight circle in the tall undergrowth as the birds twittered uselessly above him.
‘Fuck!’ he exalted and leant against the tree. As his heart slowed, he could hear better and the babble of a brook sounded not far off to the west. He shoved off from the tree against which he had been leaning and stalked in the direction of the sound, hoping to quench his thirst.
Even under his dark
cloud the brook, with bluebells growing upon the far bank, was a welcome sight. A cluster of midges balled above the surface water pooling on the rocks nearest him and he walked a little south to kneel at the water’s edge. He sipped from his cupped hands and enjoyed the cool sensation in his throat.
A twig snapped behind him and the sound of feet squelching in the mud made him turn fast, fumbling for the hatchet on his belt as he did so.
A Dryad stood behind him at a distance of some feet away, hands unclenched and hanging by its wooden hips. A further two Dryads were in the process of emerging from a willow a little further back.
Morrick did not try to speak, but fell back on his hands, which plunged into the brook and slipped away from under him on the mossy pebbles. He called out and his head and shoulders slipped back into the water. Morrick thrashed about, trying to get some sort of purchase and after a moment, he managed to throw his arms around a larger stone and kneel in the middle of the brook. The Dryads moved to the water edge.
Morrick began to slide, painlessly in the moment, on his knees across the brook towards the far side.
‘Well met,’ he stuttered.
The Dryads inclined their heads and as one, offered but one slow, solemn nod by way of an answer.
The lead Dryad’s face seemed to contort and a mouth appeared violently on its face as though it had been rent open by the stroke of an axe. Its voice was choked and lacked finesse of approximation when it emerged from that inexpert slash.
‘King Riark has spoken with your queen. All who wander the forest are in violation of the law, both ours and that of your people. The punishment for violation is destruction.’
All three Dryads nodded once more, meagre sunlight dancing across their faces. They did nothing more and seemed to be awaiting a reply, but before Morrick could give them what they wanted, a new voice chimed from behind him, deeper than the babble of the brook, but similar as though it had struck off on a new, deeper course.
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