Dark Oak

by Sannox, Jacob

  Dark Oak turned to his daughter.

  ‘There is much to be done. Gather the Council.’

  She seeped away into the soil, and Dark Oak was left alone in the forest, the acrid smell of Riark’s charred Mother Tree filling the air.

  He looked at his own Mother Tree, the great black oak, feeling the desire to be one with the forest, knowing that the longer he spent in his actual form, the less he would remember and the less he would feel.

  But Dark Oak was not prepared to forget and his anger knew no bounds. He waited for those that he knew would surely be coming.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Beacon Hall was delved deep in the earth between Stragglers’ End and the forest. It could be reached only by a series of vertical shafts which ran from the outer tunnels up to the surface and by the single opening where the tunnelling Partisans had broken through by accident.

  Lachlan had shunned the great throne room for a series of small caves that had once stood as guard houses near the base of the shafts. The messengers returned one at a time bringing with them a scattering of able-bodied men. Though it heartened him that so many had heeded his summons, even bowing their heads to him with smiles upon their lips, their numbers were too few. By Lachlan’s estimation his force could not stand against even a few companies of the well-trained and well-armoured armies of Lord Linwood.

  Yet before the muster was completed the messengers from the east dropped down from the shafts and told of the burning of the forest; of how Linwood had taken his whole force to its very edge and the word upon the tongues of many was that the strength of Stragglers’ Drift had marched off to contend with a hidden power in the forest that prevented the building of the road. The word Dryad had been thrown around and though Lachlan discounted it, he was uneasy; unease that he saw mirrored in the faces of Hadwyn and Belman.

  Not so with Habit, however, and in a moment of serious debate between the men, she laughed so that Belman chastised her.

  ‘Do you think us fools, woman? Laugh not.’ He said the words without looking at her and drained his ale when he was done. He looked to his lord and friend as though expecting her to react strongly and hoping one of them would resume the conversation before she had the chance, but their eyes flitted to Habit.

  ‘If ever there was proof that strengthening your arm saps muscle from your brain, it’d be you,’ she said. Belman’s face reddened and he turned to face her.

  ‘My people spend more time in the woods than out of it and yet you scorn my knowledge, as a man who has only of late come to these lands and has been fortunate enough to be raised between walls and under a roof?’ she said.

  Belman’s first instinct was to lash out with insults but he was conscious of affirming her assessment of him, so he held his tongue and took a different tack.

  ‘I do not scorn your knowledge, but your laughter, which interrupts our discourse. How was I to know your thoughts? If I assumed wrongly that you were mocking us then tell me what amused you so?’

  Now it was Lachlan and Hadwyn who were amused, seeing how their comrade struggled to pick his words and sweeten his voice. The lord decided he should come to his aid lest the whore struck again and the matter escalated.

  ‘You think there is truth in these rumours about the tree people?’

  Habit nodded.

  ‘Couldn’t tell you much though, but we’ve seen things over the years, some of us. There are legends aplenty.’

  ‘There are legends in the Isles too,’ said Hadwyn.

  ‘And the Folly,’ said Lachlan, ‘but only stories.’

  Habit shrugged, dismissing both the suggestion and the importance of the matter.

  ‘Legends come from somewhere. Who among us has time to imagine such things in a world where there are mouths to feed and homes to defend? After seeing Awgren’s work, do you doubt the existence of anything?’

  To that the men made no reply, but Lachlan thought privately on the day when he and Cathryn struck down Awgren; of how easily Awgren had been defeated when they had finally drawn close to him. Had Awgren not been as tall as a tree, shrouded in shadow and wielding power beyond reckoning? So the legends had grown up over the many years of long exile and yet the man bleeding-out at his feet had resembled, well, a man.

  ‘Giving thought to what stories I’ve heard in my time, I can remember only that Dryads were said to pass in and out of the trees. That at times those who wander in the woods might hear them speak,’ he said.

  ‘Little more from our own stories,’ replied Habit, ‘but I’ll not be ashamed to admit that amongst us, many leave offerings for the Dryads and I count myself in that number.’

  ‘And do they take the offerings?’ asked Lachlan, doubtful and also surprised.

  ‘Something does, but probably animals,’ she conceded, ‘but who knows what the spirits of the trees would desire? It’s the gesture. I take comfort in knowing that something watches over the woods of my home.’

  As she spoke she twiddled a lock of her long hair around her finger, and Lachlan’s heart stirred. It occurred to him that he had judged her harshly in being surprised by her spirituality. Yes, she made her living both with a knife and by lying on her back, yet didn’t she go about it with ceremony that lent significance?

  Hadwyn was scratching at his cheek.

  ‘You look thoughtful,’ said Belman. ‘Does it hurt?’ He grinned, but Hadwyn continued to stare through him though the scratching ceased.

  ‘Brother?’ said Lachlan and again, ‘Brother?’

  Hadwyn shook his head slightly as the daydream broke.

  ‘Your thoughts?’ said Lachlan.

  ‘Just that if the legends are true it might explain why Awgren left the forest alone. He razed the old countries from the Maw Gate to the Hinterland but laid not a finger upon the trees there. I’ve often wondered why he did not burn his way through and finish off the Stragglers long ago,’ Hadwyn replied. ‘If there is a power there that was able to resist Awgren when the combined might of Tayne, Crinan and Culrain far surpassed our own now, what hope would Linwood have against it?’

  Lachlan frowned, and the desire to convey these thoughts to Cathryn was strong in him. Her duty to the realm above herself rose in his thoughts and kindled the same in him.

  ‘And what would it mean for the rest of us? Would that power be able to distinguish between the face of Lachlan and the face of Linwood?’

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ said Hadwyn.

  ‘Probably not,’ said Habit.

  ‘Why do you say so?’ asked Belman.

  Habit drew her knife and, fidgeting, passed it from one hand to the other over and over.

  ‘I’ve never yet seen the weather choose one cause over another, nor a sea that cared whose home was lost when the cliffs crumbled. Ever seen a famine care when people starve? Though we run rampant across the world, we are mere flyspecks to it; we are but fleas on a dog. Perhaps ones such as yourselves are untroubled by lice, but I know if I get bit, I don’t personally introduce myself to each and every one I find. I do me damnedest to rid myself of the lot of them.’

  Lachlan laughed at the many images her words presented and nodded in agreement.

  ‘True enough. Much depends on the nature of this power then, and we must hope for a good outcome, yet plan for the worst.’

  He stood and moved to the entrance to the cavern from where he could see folk moving about in the larger adjacent hall.

  ‘I think,’ he said, turning back, ‘that it should be clear to all of us that we are never going to match Linwood in numbers, perhaps not even if all the Combined People stood against him. And if he is waging a war that could be ascribed to us, then we must move against him now and by subtler means. We came by stealth and survive by stealth. It is perhaps possible that I could lead these people and join his army in secret. From what we hear of those that come in, I believe their hearts to be true. It is their sons and brothers that make up Linwood’s force and if they are as loyal to the throne as their relatives
would have us believe, there is a chance that I could strive with Linwood and yet win the day when his army abandons him to follow me.’

  As soon as it was said, he knew that it was his only course of action, and he descended into a moody resignation. As much as he had enjoyed being free of the trappings of royalty and desired to wander the world; as much as he felt keen disappointment and fear, he was also heartened by a growing comfort from knowing that he was doing as Cathryn would wish and he missed her then, not just for the woman that rode at his side in battle, but for the gentle touch of her hand and a thousand little things that made him love her.

  He would do this for her.

  Dark Oak’s daughter embraced Riark’s flaming Mother Tree until the flames went out. The blackened wood hissed and steamed.

  She returned to her father’s side by the black oak and waited for the Council to reply to her summons.

  But the Dryads returned first, stepping out of every tree from all around until the black oak was at the centre of a horde of living wood. Dark Oak sensed no malice from them as he had feared, and he had to remind himself that these beings did not have brains with conditioned responses, they did not fight for survival, but instead simply existed and grew. Now the one who spoke for them and guided their growth was gone, so they sought answers.

  Dark Oak signalled for them to follow as he stepped inside his Mother Tree. The spirits of a thousand Dryads joined him and each of them breaching the bark was a penetration, a violation. They felt his discomfort, and he knew their concerns, their desire for peace to simply be. The soothing nature of the message and the weight of their numbers pressed down on him and yet his own rage and certainty of injustice was so strong that he held them at bay, able to retain these emotions from a life now ended. The Dryads of the world came to know him and understand him and saw that he too desired to simply exist without strife. They attempted to mingle their own tranquillity with his newer instincts and yet he challenged them, emphasising that all was changed, that mankind had overstepped its bounds and was turning all the wonders of the earth into nothing but resources to be exploited; that though Linwood was dead, others would come; that it was as part of the human psyche to expand and conquer and consume, as it was part of a rabbit’s to flee from an eagle or as it was for a tree to grow.

  And he filled their being with his understanding that Riark had seen a rose with mites upon it and their battle with Linwood had been nothing but picking them off, as would a gardener. Dark Oak overwhelmed them with vehement force of his wordless argument and the strength of his imperative.

  If they removed the mites from the rose, the rose would prosper for a time. But the mites would come again. The forest must continue to grow and mankind be forced to realise that it did not hold dominion of the world.

  And, they asked of him, just as Riark had plucked the mite that was Linwood from the rose, so Dark Oak had plucked Riark? Dark Oak told them it was not so. Riark was an old elm overshadowed by a bold new oak. Did their Mother Trees not send out branches to seek the light, heedless of the damage done by depriving those beneath them? So he had overshadowed Riark.

  Dark Oak made them know his mind. Made them see that he knew what it was to be human and that now was the time— only now would he retain the knowledge of war and the clear understanding which only a human could have of what must be done.

  They would no longer limit themselves to acting like gardeners and pick the mites from the rose. The Dryads would learn to hunt.

  All of this in moments. Dark Oak was a lone sapling in a forest of thousands and yet the Dryads’ inherent placidity was their undoing, for he used his human emotion to dominate them and by this example, full understanding of his argument came upon them. Now they too felt the desire to dominate and control, but hated the sensation. Yet they realised that if this was the nature of man, there would be no peace; that they could never just exist without molestation.

  The Dryads had the long-held but unused power to balance the world and for the first time, they not only knew it but could see that it was necessary.

  Even as the Dryads were coming to their realisations, Dark Oak could feel himself becoming more like them. He still felt anger and the desire for revenge and injustice at how he had been treated, but just as people do many years after a long ago hurt, that pain would momentarily fade and he achieved a degree of perspective— the Dryad perspective. It was all still there, but seemingly viewed with hindsight. The long ages of the world and the life of the forest seemed to shrink the significance of the wrongs in his life, the significance of nearly everything. He fought the feeling and knew he had to get out of the black oak. Besides, the longer he spent inside his Mother Tree with them, the more violated he felt and sensing this, they began to move off towards the roots. Dark Oak denied them leave. Before releasing them he instilled in them his desires and designs. He insisted that they take human form and keep it for a time, reminding them that to retain what they currently felt, they would need to remain apart from their Mother Trees as long as was possible.

  All at once, the Dryads emerged from the black oak, finally followed by Dark Oak himself.

  That screaming mouth once again appeared across his face and he addressed them.

  ‘This will not be necessary for long. Once we have secured our existence, we can go back to how things were, though perhaps maintaining peace will take more involvement from us. Follow me and I will see that the forest thrives and grows. How many did we lose because Riark would not stand? We will never lose another. Not one more.’

  No sooner had he finished speaking than his daughter arrived. She soaked into him and he received his summons. He stepped back into the black oak and emerged from the First Tree upon the island of the Council. Samura, queen of the Naiads was there in the shallows of the pool. A moment later, Wern, king of the Oreads formed from the boulder. Mayri, queen of the Sylphs descended from the sky and her form was that of a whipping cloud of smoke.

  And he addressed them. Linwood had done much of the work for him. Mayri, having seen the polluting of the skies and Samura, who had seen the little rivers and pools boil up in the north, had already acted to maintain balance. They queried Dark Oak hard on his killing of Riark and he used it against them; though he did not speak, his argument was that Dryads did not act in such a manner and that it was his human desire which drove him on. If they took issue with his actions then they had issue with mankind and thus he, Dark Oak, should use his knowledge, fears and hatred to prevent any such actions in future. He would stand as protector of the forest and chief amongst them.

  Wern, though not concerned with contending for power, was less moved by his arguments. After all, what effect could humans have on the earth itself? And indeed, millennia before, the Oreads had once had friendship with the humans of old. Dark Oak was surprised to hear that it was the Oreads who had thrown up the walls of the Folly in the time of the First Cleansing long, long ago, in order to protect the humans. Nevertheless, Dark Oak conveyed a message of consumption, showing how the humans had moved from stone, to bronze, to iron, to black powder and steel; how they delved ever deeper and turned the earth to their uses. Wern was not overly concerned, but Dark Oak showed him visions of the future, where humans swarmed across the world in their millions, consuming ever more until the world’s resources were used up.

  In time, many days in fact, Dark Oak concluded the debate and withdrew back to his Mother Tree where the Dryads waited.

  Dark Oak stepped out into his glade.

  ‘Father…’

  A tall, thin Dryad with white bark and a mane of red leaves stepped towards him. To Dark Oak’s eyes, it appeared gangly and awkward.

  ‘Son,’ he said and try as he might, he could not recall his name.

  Callum nodded and the bark at his neck splintered.

  ‘You killed me.’

  Dark Oak scrutinised Callum’s face, but grew frustrated that he was unable to discern his son’s emotional state. It would have been clear to
Morrick that Callum was confused and betrayed, but Dark Oak was already beginning to lose his understanding of human emotion.

  ‘I would not be parted from you, my son.’

  Callum affected a sigh and looked between Dark Oak and Whiteflow.

  ‘We were family,’ she trilled and laid a hand on his shoulder. The water of her body soaked into him and she exerted empathy through his being, conveying images of her death by Rowan’s hand in order to save him.

  ‘Parents do what they must to save their children. Our mother killed me to save you. She chose to destroy me and favoured her sons. Dark Oak killed you so that we would never again be parted and so you could join our fight.’

  ‘Our fight?’ Callum asked.

  ‘Indeed…’ Dark Oak struggled for Callum’s name and, eventually, conceded, ‘indeed, Red Maple.’

  He stalked forward and took hold of his other shoulder, also melding with him. He joined hands with Whiteflow and the three of them shared understanding.

  ‘There is peace to be had if we redress the balance,’ said Dark Oak. ‘I worked my whole life to do right by my family. I did my duty and did heinous acts to protect you. I hoped for the day when the bright hope would win through; when the good and glorious queen of mankind would sweep in to deliver us, but when they arrived? Worse than before. I was imprisoned, maltreated, conscripted again, beaten and rejected. Every hope I ever had was dashed and mankind once again controls the land. Ever deeper they mine and I know that the forests will dwindle as their industry increases. Soon this continent will be dotted with heaving cities and the forest will be hewn to build them.’

  Red Maple looked into the white stars of Dark Oak’s eyes and, seeing with new eyes and feeling new priorities, his loyalty won out.

  Lachlan’s force assembled on the great road and when all were mustered, Belman estimated their numbers at around five hundred. Lachlan, Hadwyn and Belman rode at the head of the column, and Habit walked with her Partisans behind. Flanking them were the armoured guards from the villages who had sent aid. Together they marched towards the forest.