Man of The Orchard
Long ago there was a man who lived in an orchard on the edge of the Kingdom of The Hills. This man lived a simple life; he owned no house, only the land on which his trees grew. He spent his days alone wandering among the trees attempting to understand the meaning of life. In pursuit of this goal, he dreamt most of his days away for nearly twenty years.
One day, as the sun was just setting it's head down in the west, a group of men on horses rode down the lane that cut through part of the man's field. He awoke suddenly from a nap, startled at the loud sounds. There had not been visitors to his orchard since his father lived with him, which was some times ago, as his father had passed away when he was only ten years old. He walked to the road lazily and greeted the travelers with a weak wave of his hand.
Old man, said the lead horseman as the group rod up, is this your orchard?
The man was somewhat confused, I'm not old. I'm twenty.
The lead horseman jumped down from his steed and walked a bit closer to the man. He squinted his eyes, and examined his face, then asked him to lift his hands up. To the man, his hands looked young and strong, but the face of the horseman did not lead him to believe that he saw the same thing.
The horseman went back to his steed and removed a spear from the side of the saddle.
Take this, he said to the man. The man did so, and immediately the spear fell from his hands.
You are as weak as a kitten, said the horseman. Are you sure that you are only twenty?
More likely his is one hundred and twenty, and is senile, said another of the horsemen.
Now, now, we mustn't offend our host if we are expected to be invited to stay the night, Confort.
My humblest and most sincere apologies, my dear man, said Confort. Confort, a low ranking member of the horsemen, moved his horse towards the back of the ranks, even as he watched the man's actions closely.
Oh, no offense, my dear horseman, said the man. You all may stay as long as you have need, and may pick of my trees as you desire. There is enough to go around, and will be more than enough for me when you are through.
Indeed, said the lead horseman.
The horsemen settled down near the raised road, and made camp. Not too long afterwards, the lead horseman and the owner of the orchard walked into the trees to talk to each other. They walked some distance before the horseman finally said anything.
Has this orchard always been in your family?
Yes, indeed it has. My father's father planted many of these very trees. My father and I have both cared for them since our respective childhoods.
Your father is not present.
He is no longer on this world.
I'm sorry.
It is alright, his passing was difficult for a time, but now I am much better. The orchard calls to me; I spend all my time here. In a way, it is like being with him when I remember the times we spent together under the trees that grew here.
Yes, I find the same when I ride abroad.
They paused and stood admiring the stars and expanses of trees, shrouded in darkness.
Well, it is late. I must return to my men. Thank you again for your hospitality.
The two men parted ways, the horseman back to his men, the orchard owner back into the heart of his orchard. When the horseman arrived back at the camp, there was some commotion near the central fire. Two men where arguing.
What do you mean, I couldn't find any'? We're in the middle of an orchard you blasted fool. There is fruit all around us! said the first man.
The trees near here had no fruit, their branches where bare, said the second.
What is all this? asked the head horseman sternly as he neared the fire, You argue over some small amount of fruit? We have more important things to worry about, for instance our plans for the following weeks. I think you all know very well how hard our task will be. I will not have division in my ranks at this late hour! Now, take rest while you may. It is already very dark away from the fire.
The head horseman made sure that his men did indeed take to their beds, and then returned to the edge of the camp. There he passed Confort, on his way back to the camp from a walk. The two men paused. After a time, Confort said, Sir, I'm sorry that I spoke out against our guest. I was out of line there.
Confort, my dear boy, I know your heart is in the right place. Your shrewdness and judgment will save this whole company someday, I'll wager. Now, go get some rest.
Confort walked away from his leader, thoughts of the future in his mind tumbling about with thoughts of plots hidden from his view.
The head horseman continued a ways away from the camp and found a nearby tree. Although he could not see the tree itself, he inspected it with his hands. There where indeed no fruits to be found. There seemed even to be relatively few leaves for the season. This puzzled the horseman, so he investigated a second tree further into the orchard. There was still no fruit to be found. It then occurred to the horseman that he did not even know what sort of orchard they had stopped in, the road had a large buffer on either side of it, and they had not stopped until the sky had become much too dark to see the trees clearly. There was a creeping feel at the back of his neck, his hair standing on end. Something was not quite right herebut he soon shrugged off the feeling as mere tiredness and began returned to the camp. As he did, he was aware of a creeping motion to his left side. Guards would be posted at the camp, so it was probably nothing to worry about. He walked back to the camp. The fire had been put out already, as he had ordered, so he undressed in the dark and took to his bed.
The morning came slowly the next day. The head horseman woke groggily from his rest. He had been racketed by nightmares in which dark men shaped like trees pursued him to the ends of the earth, where he was forced to jump, again and again, into the black abyss of the gods. The dreams played themselves in his sleep over and over and over, though he did not grow more used to them each time. He was, rather, more disturbed every time he saw the grotesque figures pursuing him across the hills of the kingdom.
He moved slowly to the washbasin that had been set up by a servant before he had returned to the camp. His vision was still blurry from the rough sleep of the night. He dipped his hands deeply into the water and splashed the water into his face. He repeated this twice, rubbing hard at his closed eyes and cheeks to wipe away the sleep. He opened his eyes just as he brought away his hands. When he saw his hands, he screamed loudly and jumped backwards. He tripped over his bunk and collapsed into the side of his tent. The tent came down upon him, and he struggled within it to get out and away from his own hands. The other men woke suddenly and ventured outside their tents to see what was happening. When they saw their leaders tent collapsed they ran to remove him from it. When the head horseman was finally set free from his tent, he continued to scream. Now, the men could hear what he was shouting.
My hands! My hands! The trees are of the Devil! They have possessed my hands!!
The men looked down at the shriveling man before them in horror as he removed his hands from his tunic where he had buried them. His hands where wilted and old looking, and had turned black as coal. His fingers where grossly elongated, as where his entire wrists and lower arms. Even as the men looked down on him, his form changed slowly before their eyes. His body became taller, his arms spindly and sprouted extensions, his whole body turning black.
The men shrank back from their leader in fear, as his body was forced erect. Soon, he had morphed into double his height, and began to sprout more limbs, each more gnarled and deformed than the last. Soon, his transformation was complete. The horsemen looked for the first time upon the trees about them, and saw the same black gnarled trunks and limbs that their leader had become. Near the fire circle, they saw another black tree: the man who had been sent to gather fruit the night before. He had transformed as soon as he had awoken from his sleep to start a fire.
One of the higher ranking men shouted to the others, Do not touch the trees! They are accursed, avoid them unless you want the same fate as our leader.
The sky was overcast as the men tore down their tents and gathered their supplies hastily. All was ready for them to depart from the cursed orchard when the man of the orchard suddenly was among them, laughing as he sat on a stool eating a blackened fruit that looked as though it had been charred.
So, now you have seen the curse, said the old man, the curse of the gods placed over the heads of my ancestors; we we're once a noble family, great in power in the Kingdom and in the world. We became so well known and admired that the gods grew jealous of our following and deceived a mother of my family hundreds of generations ago into marrying one of their own. Thus, as the people began to worship our family, they were still worshiping half gods. A curse, however, came along with our preserved prestige. We were to take care of orchards planted in true worship of the gods.
My father's father planted an orchard in these hills. The orchard passed to my father, who cared for it diligently. It passed then to me, and I cared for it as diligently as my father for a season. I was a great caretaker of things that grow from the soil; at an early age I was as intelligent and strong as a fully-grown man as happens in my family. Ah, but then I became less than diligent. I took no heed for the passing seasons and plucked fruit from the sacred trees whenever I desired. I no longer trimmed away the imperfections of the sacred trees, but let them go wild. They all died.
What you see around you are not trees, my dear fools. No, they are what have become of unfortunate travelers who have passed through my land. They are just as your dear leader and young recruit here, doomed souls trapped in the form of black, dead and dying trees. They are the result of my curse. Something will worship the gods, and I do not care if they are real trees or black trees.
The old man stood after his long story and cast the core of his black fruit to the ground. It shriveled into sand and was caught by a gust of wind. The old man walked towards the group of horsemen ominously. You will all meet that same fate. There is no escape from my orchard.
You know, I didn't like you the first moment I laid eyes on you, said a voice from behind the old man. The old man whirled around to see the horseman Confort standing before him brandishing a great battle sword.
No!!! screamed the old man as the sword slashed towards his chest. You will all die for this!!! The steel bit into his chest deeply, as his final words where caught by the wind and carried off. His body met the same fate as the black fruit he had cast away, blown to the four winds.
Confort's face was distorted by the anger in his heart focused on this great evil. Cut them down. Cut them all down. He said slowly, quietly, and with force. He was only a low ranking member of the horsemen, but they all obeyed him immediately. He became the new leader by his act of rebellion against the one who caused their leaders death, and by the nature of his soul, which was now laid bare. He was a strong leader, swift to anger against those deserving.
The men went through the hills, and cut down each tree in while in turn offering up a prayer for the souls trapped within. The trees decomposed over the next night, and all that was left in the morning where the hills covered in grey shadow.
Only two trees where left standing, the tree of the head horseman and that of the young horseman. The men could not bear to cut down these, while there remained possible hope in their hearts that a wise man may someday heal their curse. Around these two black trees the men took a year to erect a great stonewall shrine. They planted beautiful trees and flowering plants within those walls. In the eastern side was a heavy door of stone bearing warnings and the story told by the man of the orchard translated into all the tongues spoken by the horsemen.
A great forest grew from the prayers of the horsemen, and just on the edge of the Kingdom of The Hills in the center of this great forest this shrine still stands, as a monument to the wrath of the gods against man.
