The Szornian’s Pine Tree By Clinton Roddick

The Birth of the OakPine Ring

They simply called it The Pine Tree. It towered above the dense forest, catching the first rays of morning sun. To the Szornian tribe, it was the god who helped their every endeavour. While they worshipped and gave it regular sacrifices, the spirit within was not upset by being captive, unable to roam free. To keep the Szornians worshipping it, it called bountiful harvests to them; game was abundant, and they were hardier and stronger than other tribes. Angered, the Pine Tree would release fine yellow-brown spores, slowly killing its victim, until it released them from the curse. It also protected them against invaders – to a certain degree.
Rumours of The Pine Tree filtered through the vast jungle to the cooler south lands where great civilisations lived…


Haelrr well remembered kneeling before King Yolun and Queen Elyyn; being commended for bravery in battle and being given a place in the Northern Forest Expedition, led by General Pyter. They were to head north past the kingdoms of Diffranti and Yillan, before leaving the Kingdom of Migea behind and venture into the trackless forests that made up Ritella. Unlike the heady delights of civilisation – the taverns, the wonderful crafts and the lifestyle – Ritella was full of savage, warring tribesfolk.
He was a Kyarin from Kyari, one of the three south-eastern kingdoms that refused to accept magic being practised in their kingdom. Like all good Kyarins, Haelrr believed that magic was a plague of evil. Mages were banned from Kyari unless they had permission granted by either King Yolun or Queen Elyyn.
The Expedition – made up of almost fifty people from the Warrior Family – left immediately, marching out to the applause of many. The love of his life, Daran, waved to him, wishing him good luck. He had decided to bring back a trophy and give it to Daran, as a wedding gift.
After leaving Ky, the capital city of Kyari behind, and while travelling north to Ritella, Haelrr met up with two close friends from his childhood; Verren, a loud and brave warrior, and Varia, one of the fifteen female warriors on the Expedition. She was fearless and cunning.
In Ritella, after meeting with two tribes, they heard of a feared tribe called Szornian which, as rumour had it, had a potent magic weapon – the Pine Tree.
‘General Pyter will hunt down this tribe f’r sure.’ Verren confided to Varia and Haelrr around the camp fire. A tankard of weak beer clutched in his large hand.
‘A’corse he will- like any honourable Kyarin who cleaves to our knowledge and beliefs.’ Varia replied. She also held beer in one hand. She tipped her head back and drank deeply.
Haelrr also took a draught, and said: ‘If it is a tree, why not cut it down as a trophy to take home for furniture. That will show them that not even evil can stop those who are right and good.’
‘And maybe bring home a little something for your sweetheart, Daran.’ teased Varia grinning evilly at him. She knew of their love for each other. Although she was a warrior maiden and Daran a lesser noble, they were good friends. True Warrior families – like those of Varia, Haelrr, Verren and General Pyter – were on a par with lesser nobles, but usually lived apart socially.
Haelrr grinned, quaffing some more beer. He enjoyed Varia’s teasing manner, knowing that she was just joking around. ‘Aye, and a little something for my “sweetheart”, as you say.’
Verren roared with laughter.
General Pyter called out for them to bed down for the night. ‘It’ll be a long night, and a longer day!’ he called out to them.


Next morning they were woken early by loud, clear bird calls. They hunted for breakfast, amazed at the amount of game available. Usually fresh food was scarce and ran away at the smell of people. Soon the air was full of the aromatic smells of game cooking, supplemented with abundant fruit. They enjoyed the heartiest breakfast they’d had in ages.
‘Ya know what this means,’ mumbled Verren, his mouth full of cooked bush pig.
‘No… and wait until your mouth is empty before talking, you disgusting person.’ Varia told him.
‘We’re near the Szornian camp.’ He winked and tapped the meat with his free hand. ‘It’s said that one of their witch powers is plentiful food.’
Varia quickly put down her fruit.
‘Nay, nay.’ Verren chuckled. ‘The food ain’t witched. ‘Tis just plentiful ‘round their lands. All the better f’r us.’ He took another bite.


Breakfasted and packed, General Pyter stood and spoke to his army.
‘My scouts have searched for signs of the Szornian tribe and we believe they are north.’ he said pointing. ‘Look through the trees and you can see a small plateau, about fifty paces long and thirty wide. Atop that plateau is the Pine Tree. Our objective is to capture and destroy this evil monster.
‘The Szornian tribe lives at the base of this plateau, so we will have to capture them first. I would prefer that they live they are not truly evil, just under the persuasive influence of this evil Tree. But as you know, anyone who does practice the black art of magic must be killed. Come. Now we shall go and destroy it!’ the last words were a shout.
The Explorers roared as one, and set off northwards.


Taktarii, Patriarch of the Szornian tribe, sat next to his wife, Manurii, the Szornians’ Matriarch. He was responsible for the tribe’s men, as well as hunting, fishing and fighting. She was the women’s leader, as well as the one who looked over their four magic-users, and protected those who could not fight. Manurii was a magic-user herself. In all other things they were equals.
They listened as their scout told them of southerners invading their lands.
‘They number fifty, Patriarch,’ said the scout, speaking in their native Ritellan. ‘They come with weapons of metal, of which they have the secrets of crafting. Over one-fourth of their number is female.’
Taktarii raised his brows. Whilst a woman fighting was no new thing – they had female warriors – they had never encountered or heard of a force with so many.
‘We shall prepare a trap for these invaders,’ said Taktarii. To his wife, he spoke: ‘Do you wish to prepare an offering to the Pine Tree to help us?’ Manurii nodded, and they both left to do their assigned tasks.


The Explorers crept through the undergrowth towards the camp. Within sight of the camp, arrows flew through the air. Next to Haelrr, Meunaer the Cook gave a cry and fell down. As well as a fine warrior, he had been one of the Expedition’s cooks.
Out of trees and the undergrowth Szornian warriors emerged, clad in coarse sackcloth-like clothes, flecked with green so they could hide in the forest. A far cry from the soft, finely-woven garments that the Kyarins wore.
Haelrr lost sight of Verren and Varia. He faced a Szornian, who threw a woven net at him. The ends of it wriggled into the ground, holding him tight. He slashed furiously at it with his sword and broke free.
After a brief but furious fight, Pyter called them to retreat. The survivors ran with him, deep into the woods leaving the Szornians behind. Pyter’s men reassembled far from the Szornian camp and after a frantic searching Haelrr found both Varia and Verren. Like Haelrr, they had a variety of minor wounds – Verren’s left arm was bleeding sluggishly. General Pyter took a head count and talked, as Verren bound his arm.
‘We lost nine brave Kyarin warriors back there my friends,’ he said. ‘It is obvious we cannot simply walk up and defeat them. Their force is far larger than ours. But we will avenge our dead, and destroy the Pine Tree. So, this is what I propose…’


Some of the Szornian warriors went searching for food for a celebratory feast. Others went, at Manurii‘s command, to find healing herbs to make poultices for the wounded. Another warrior detail went to find both sides’ dead and sacrifice them to the Pine Tree. Only a token force was left at the village believing that like all other invaders, the enemy had broken up and run away. When the lone scout found five warriors skulking near the edge of the forest he assumed that they, mad with grief, were on a suicide mission to avenge their dead. And so, cheering, all but three of the Szornian guard gave chase.


On the opposite side of the village, Haelrr and the others, with blood curdling cries, erupted out of the woods and surrounded it. Because the Szornians never believed an attack would come from so close to the Pine Tree’s lair, their watch was lax, secure in the belief that the Tree could take care of itself. Providing it wasn’t distracted.


At the plateau’s edge an enormous bowl-shaped indentation was scored out of the loamy forest soil. It was twice as deep as any of the Szornians, half as long as the plateau and two thirds as wide. The Pine Tree towered majestically from its far edge. Like huge, coarse hemp ropes, its roots twisted, coiled and frayed into the very base of the dark brown soil, drawing food and water and prey for the tree. On top of the plateau, and at the entrance of the indentation stood fifty guards, Taktarii and Manurii.
Singing hymns of thanks and praise they approached the tree, bringing with them the dead bodies. As if waking from a deep sleep, the roots came to life and one by one pulled the bodies into the air and into a hollow in the Tree’s base, right where tree met earth. Once inside the tree, the bodies were broken down into fertiliser and returned to the rich loamy soil. Focussing on the sacrifices, the spirit’s attention distracted from the village below.


The Kyarins overtook the village speedily. Some tribes-people tried to fight back; two used magic on their attackers. They were quickly killed and many, too drunk to realise what was happening, were overpowered immediately, while the rest were shocked that they had actually been caught. As small groups of Szornian warriors returned, they were given the choice of imprisonment or death. Most chose prison. Once the village was under control, thirty warriors led by and including General Pyter, marched on to capture those at the plateau and to destroy the Pine Tree.


Positioned on the hill-top with the dying sun behind them, the army, filled with blood lust, charged down a narrow ravine into the giant bowl. And into chaos. Three people – two women and one man – threw balls of fire at the oncoming attackers. They were the first to be killed. Then, with a mighty roar, the two sides clashed. The Szornians had more fighters, but the Kyarins were fiercer with deadlier weapons.
And then the Pine Tree entered the fray. Roots erupted out of the ground, ensnaring them. Plants twined around the warriors ankles, tripping and binding them, thus making them easier targets for the roots.
‘B’ware! Your feet!’ Pyter called. When a root did get a hold, they had seconds to hack it off before it grew strong enough to bind them, and allow the Szornians to kill them. One Kyarin grabbed a dropped spear and fought with it in his other hand.
Suddenly the wood writhed, revealing the secret behind the Szornian's apparent invincibility. Fine tendrils with barbed ends dug into the unfortunate warrior strangling him. His shrieks of agony rent the air causing a momentary lull in the fighting. The Kyarins renewed their attacks with greater effort terrified by the power of what they faced. Just as the Kyarins turned the tide in their favour, the tree gave a creaking shiver. Pine-needles – as sharp and deadly as arrows –rained from its massive branches. For a brief minute both Szornians and Kyarins stopped battling trying to avoid the deadly rain of needles.
But then the tree was spent.
The fighting resumed with greater intensity. The Kyarins relieved that the tree was only able to trip and bind them.
Verren’s bandage fell off his arm as he received a massive cut exposing the bone on his other arm. His sword clattered out of his right hand, and was kicked away by a Szornian, as he gave Verren a mighty slash across the chest.
‘Verren!’ Haelrr cried, running to his friend. But he was blocked off by a Szornian chieftain, Taktarii.
Taktarii gave a cry of pure rage –Haelrr had killed his wife; Manurii when she threw fire at the Kyarins. His attack was fuelled with strength born of rage. Haelrr fought for his life.


Behind them, Verren staggered over to a wooden torch. His vision was fading; he knew he was dying. He grabbed the torch tearing off each tendril as it grew on its surface and held on grimly as it bucked and writhed. One tendril got free, and pulled his hair. Another wrapped around his head. More grabbed his throat, trying to choke him. But he staggered on, until he reached the base of the Pine Tree. Roots grabbed at him, trying to pull him up, trying to tear away the burning torch in his hand at the same time. With superhuman effort Verren thrust upwards, the resinous wood igniting and exploding up the tree trunk.


Above the roar of the flames enveloping the tree, an inhuman shriek tore their eardrums. All fighting stopped. Villagers below saw the burning light. And knowing what had caused it, the Szornians cried out over and over in Ritellan: ‘Our God has fallen.’
The fire climbed even higher, weakening the Tree. With a groaning creak, it slowly toppled over, killing all those too slow to get from under it. It fell forwards into the bowl, blocking the ravine. The crown broke off, falling from the steep plateau into the village, rumbling to a stop at the centre of the square. The rest of the tree protruded out of the ravine, out in thin air, for twenty metres. The fire licked hungrily up its length, completely devouring it.


For many long minutes no one moved. Szornians on the hilltop began a chant revering the memory of their dead God and those who had died to protect it. Then, in one fluid movement, they reversed their long spears, plunging them deep into their own hearts. In Southern – the language the Kyarins used – the leader said:
‘We follow where our God goes. We have failed him. Now we must follow him to where life cannot return from. I have but one last wish.’ He looked directly at Haelrr. ‘You, who killed my wife; Manurii, Matriarch of the Szornians. Tell all survivors of this and record it for our history. Now I, Taktarii, last leader of the Szornian tribe, must join my people and our leader.’
He too reversed his spear and plunged it into his heart.
Haelrr looked to where Verren lay; a peaceful smile on his features. The tree had missed him, so he had not been crushed.
‘I will miss you, Verren.’ Haelrr whispered.
‘And I, too.’ Varia came up next to him, the tears on her face reflected in the flickering firelight.


A week later, they began to leave the village. General Pyter decreed that the captured Szornians would accompany them, as servants. They would be paid he said, and after a year reflecting on the evil of magic, they could choose to leave service or keeping working for their master. After that year was up, those who kept working were free to leave at any time.
The dead who’d been recovered were buried deep in the forest – far away from the village. The unburnt crown of the tree was brought back, and used for furniture.
Already some had cut off pieces to carve small keepsakes from.
Of the fifty who had come, only twenty-four were going back. General Pyter, grievously injured, chose Haelrr as his replacement for the journey home. Haelrr declined. He planned to record their adventure, as Taktarii had asked. But he would write it in honour of Verren.
As the caravan of rough materials began to rumble off, Varia dashed up to Haelrr. She gave him a broad ring, made of pale wood with a ring of darker wood angling through the centre. At the top, on a slightly raised area, was a tiny circular emerald with eight identical petals around its edge.
‘I – I made this for you.’ She said. ‘I knew you wanted to bring something back for Daran, and I found the emerald in ash near Verren. So we can remember him.’ Tears ran down her cheeks. She had been really close to Verren, just like Haelrr. ‘Just – just push on the centre emerald and it folds in…something I learnt to do a long time ago. I’m – I’m sorry, I have to go.’ She hurried off, sobbing.
Haelrr watched her go. They would be friends. Forever. But Verren’s death had scarred Varia deep, just like him. She had loved him. He realised that just after Verren’s death, while Varia had been sitting next to his body, crying.


He looked down at the ring and silently thanked her. It was made of oak and the Pine Tree. It was made so well that he could see no glue holding it together. He touched the centre firmly and it pulled in. The petals were in small wooden cups which folded down and in, leaving no trace of themselves behind except for a small circle seemingly cut into the wood, and segmented into eight pieces; one for each petal. He felt below and pushed; the emerald flower reappeared. As it did, a tiny cloud of fine, yellow-brown dust puffed out. He breathed it in and coughed for a moment. It subsided, as he put on the OakPine Ring.
Inside the spirit lay regaining its strength. It was not dead, but too weak to do anything spread out between many pieces of wood. It waited…


Characters:
· Szornians – tribes people who live with the Pine Tree.
· Haelrr – main character; a Kyarin. Takes the OakPine Ring.
· Verren – Haelrr’s best friend, also there.
· Taktarii – Patriarch of the Szornians
· Manurii – Matriarch of the Szornians
· Kyarin – a land to the south, the people of which loath and fear magic.
· King Yolun – King of Kyarin.
· Queen Elyyn – Queen of Kyarin.
· General Pyter – leader of the expedition.
· Varia – female warrior, on expedition.
· Daran – Kyarin woman whom Haelrr wishes to marry.
· Hanaru – a female magic-user from the Szornian tribe.
· Meunaer – a cook and fighter for the Explorers.