Gulin's Tree of Life

Tucked in the hollow of the massive tree the three travelers sat huddled around together trying to stay warm. Just outside the hollowed out trunk the heavy rain pelted the bark of the tree and the surrounding area. Wrapped in blankets and coats the travelers stared out at the rain and listened to the wind as it whipped through the forest, the trees and the long grasses that grew in the meadow in the clearing just a hundred feet west of the grand tree. The trunk broke the savage wind and provided the wall to lean against, this tree looked like it had provided life for a great many years to so many woodland creatures, but these strangers, the travelers were so different, they wore strange clothes and did not even talk. The three sat there in the shelter of the storm in silence.
Outside the shadows grew long and light began to dim. The rain kept coming down but the wind had let up as the night approached as it had a habit of doing. Finally one of the travelers cleared his throat as he pulled the blanket back from his small square face and his round slightly turned up nose. Dark black eyes glanced from the one companion and then to the other and back hoping to meet a gaze or see some movement. The small man saw nothing but the bundled forms of the other two. He cleared his throat again and checked, still no movement or acknowledgement that they knew he was even there. Just when he finally decided that he was going to introduce himself a loud noise from outside startled him and caused him to wrap the blanket back around his head and hide his face.
More noises, sounded like someone moving around outside, perhaps another traveler, there was a wide path that showed much wear not more than a few feet from the tree. Could have been another traveler hoping to find warmth and comfort for the night. Another noise, closer this time and much louder. Try as he may the small man could not help but peak out from his blankets and see if he could see this noisy visitor. Pulling the blanket back a little at a time until he could see and opening of the trunk, he was not prepared for what he saw. Standing in the opening stood a lady of ivory white skin and the bluest eyes he had ever seen, her hair was matted down from the rain but in the flashes of lightening the long fine hair glistened like thousands of diamond on spider web fine lines of golden hair. The lady’s long blue dress touched the ground and a black shawl wrapped about her square shoulders.
In a soft voice as sweet as honeydew in the morning the new arrival spoke as she smiled at the three travelers, “may I enter?”
After a moment of waiting for an answer the small man reach out of his blanket and with his stubby arm he gestured the lady into the trunk. She moved in and found a spot straight across from the small man. The trunk was very large, large enough for twenty to stand and even sleep, if need be. The lady smiled at the small man and then pulled her clothing up around her for warmth. The small man began to wonder again more and more. First what was such a pretty lady doing out by herself in a rainstorm, at night. She did not appear to be a regular traveler, there was no packs or bundles and her clothes were too fine for a traveler. Then the small man wondered about his other two companions, he did not know them, he had never been introduced or even seen their faces. Like him they had been on the road going the same direction. For some reason he was drawn to this tree off the main path. They had come running up behind then passed him as they all ran for the tree.
As the small man wondered more the lady pulled a short stick from under her clothes and pointed it at the ground, at the middle of the tree’s hollow. Just as he was about to ask what she was doing the lady placed a finger to her lips in a gesture requesting silence. With the whish of the stick a small flame grew from the ground and not much else. As the lady raised her hand the flame grew slowly until the man could feel the warmth of his square little face.
Thinking to himself that figures she was not an ordinary lady she was witch or an enchantress? Was she evil or good, would she warm up himself and the other travelers or cook them all? He had traveled the world for many years and seen many thing far stranger then this lady and her fire. For now, the fire felt good and it fought back the cold from seeping into his small body bones. The man smiled and the lady smiled back. The small man thought to himself that he wished he had picked the berries he had seen earlier in the afternoon, they would taste good right about now. Just as he said that to himself he noticed roots that had grown on the inside of the great tree’s wall, they reminded him of carrots. The small man reached out and broke one of the roots off and with both hands he peeled the outer husk off, inside was a soft meaty pulp. After taking a deep breath the small man place the end of the root to his tongue, it tasted sweet. After glancing at the woman once or twice the small man bite into the pulp, it tasted sweet to, a little woody like a carrot or turnip. The man swallowed waiting for a bad after taste or a burning of his throat, but there was none. Another bite and the more he ate the better it tasted. He broke off a couple more pieces and offered some to the lady, but the lady smiled and shook her head. It was then that he noticed the bigger of the traveler reached down and pulled similar roots from the area next to him. Must have been watching the small man thought. The small man ate his fill and leaned back against the wall, his belly full, his body warm his eyes fill with the beauty of the lady of the fire.
For what seemed like hours, the two sat there warming in the flames and looked at each other. Then suddenly one of the other travelers moves, only a little at first then the mass of blankets took the form a very large man.
Being a worldly man, the small man listened and watched as the traveler stood, he could hear the clanging of metal, sword and shield he wagered and from the size of the traveler a second wager would be a knight or solider of some kind. Again, the small man wondered if he was in the company of friends or foes. Once erect the big man threw back the blankets and glanced around the trunk room. He was a tall but a burly man with long black beard, wild un-kept hair, his clothes were that of a bright red uniform with a gold emblem on the chest it was uniform of the royal guards from some grand kingdom the small man thought. Indeed the traveler bared a large sword still in it’s sheath and a odd shaped shield with a crest the small man did not know.   
The big man looked puzzled at the fire that sprung from the ground with no wood to fuel it’s hungry flames. He then glanced at his companions. The Lady smiled softly but the small man hide his face in the shadows of his hooded cape. The fourth traveler sat still covered but his eyes looked out warily while his right hand slip to the sword on his side, for he too wondered if his fellow trunk room companions meant him harm.
The Lady stood and spoke softly, “I am Lady Larrena of the village Topden.” The man with the funny shield cleared his throat, “I am Bogar soldier and defender to the King.” The small man swallowed hard and spoke with a quiver to his voice, “ I am Tolwen a traveler headed for the great lake to the west.” All three looked towards the last traveler to show himself. They waited and waited, then from inside his blankets the man said, “And I am Luther son of Kragmor from the town of Sintep, just passing through this little woods on my way home.”
Again silence filled the room until the Bogar pointed to the fire, “Is this witchcraft or magic?” Lady Larrena smiled it is neither and both.” “Did you do this”, the soldier asked. I requested fire but I did not create it.” The lady said. Tolwen wondered why the lady lied; perhaps she had more to hide then fire. Bogar cocked his head and squinted at the answer he got from the lady. Then in his commanding voice Bogar asked, “Are you a witch?” Larrena smiled, “No, I am no witch, but this place is bewitch, or at least that is what I was told.” “Told by whom”, Bogar demanded? Larrena looked away from the stare from the big man’s dark eyes. Without looking back at Bogar Larrena spoke, “By the woodsman that lives here.” Bogar shifted to his left foot then back appearing to becoming more impatient, “Someone lives here in these trees?”
Larrena ignored the soldier’s questions and his piercing stare. She gathered her shawl and cape about herself and sat back against the inside of the trunk. Just as the soldier placed his hand on his sword, considering if he needed to pull the weapon or not the lady closed her eyes and a smile settled back on her face. Bogar looked about the chamber and considered his options. The other travelers looked him up and down, now he knew he must act or be considered a coward. Bogar drew the long sword and gripped it with both hands wheeling it over his head, and prepared to swing a crashing blow to the inner wall of the tree. Just as he started downward swing the blade of the mighty sword appeared to have a mind of it’s own and instead of swinging down some how managed to get itself stuck in some roots or growths on the wall that no one had noticed before. Bogar’s forcing swing pulled the sword from his hand and caused him to stubble forward. The big man must have lost his footing for he fell to his knees just as his sword came lose from the roots and fell to the ground behind him.
Tolwen hide his face and laughed to himself about the way the solider had been disarmed by the tree. Tolwen had traveled many miles, and seen many thing in his years he knew there were things that could not be explained away and he had seen several kinds of magic and wizardry some good and some not so good. It was clear that who or whatever magic was in that tree hollow with him and his fellow travelers had great power and could have done much worse to the soldier. An attack against an unseen foe was not the act of a seasoned warrior, more like a foolish child dealing with an unknown that terrifies him. Tolwen wondered what the rest of the night might hold in store for the tree and the travelers.
The soldier grabbed his sword and hurried to his feet as if the devil himself were after him. Looking about the tree room the soldier found his three companions only to find them snuggled up facing away from him. Bogar looked around quickly and then scanned the area where his sword had gotten stuck, the area was full of roots or vines that should have been underground not seven feet above the ground inside the hollow of a tree. Bogar checked the other three again, they were still turned away from him. Unknown to him Tolwen had pulled a smooth metal plate from a pocket and with it he was watching Bogar’s every move. Satisfied that the others had not witnessed his tripping and dropping the sword Bogar sheathed his sword and his pride, wrapped his cloak about his body, and returned to his spot along the wall.
As much as Bogar hated to admit it and he never would to anyone, the fire felt good and from the down pour he had been caught out in, it was a welcome change. Watching the flames for minutes that felt like hours Bogar and his companions slipped into deep sleep. Outside the wind was picking up again and the rain grew heavy as sheets of rain glided through the thick forest outside. Inside the flames, neither grew nor faded.
Tolwen heard the sounds outside first, his years of traveling had taught him to keep one ear tuned at all times. The noise was faint at first then it grew louder. Suddenly another sound this one very close, as close as the opening to the trunk. It was a scraping sound. Tolwen pulled back the cloak in time to see the opening of the trunk close from the top to the bottom the two sides bond together and before Tolwen could not say a single word before the opening was gone.  Then the other sound was clear, it was just on the outside of the tree. Tolwen heard horses three maybe four, and men, several men. Listening carefully, Tolwen heard leather against leather and metal against metal. More soldiers Tolwen wagered.
Just then Bogar awoke with a start. Moving quickly to his feet Bogar threw back the cloak and drew his sword. He froze with his jaw hanging open when he saw the opening was no more. “What kind of witchcraft is this?” Bogar demanded. Nobody answered but that was not going to do. Bogar stepped towards the fine lady and reached for her arm. With a quick jolt, Bogar lifted the lady to her feet. Larrena pulled the cloth back from her face with her free hand and found herself staring inches away from Bogar’s angry glare. “I asked you woman what kind of witchcraft it this?” Lady Larrena forced a smile and looked about the room trying to figure out what the soldier was talking about. Seeing the solid wall where the opening should have been told her only the why not the how. “I do not know I did not do it. I have no power, no magic!” Lady Larrena answered as calmly as possible.
Tolwen was trying to listen to the men outside not the conversation inside the tree. Then Tolwen heard a name he knew, it was Luther, Prince Luther. Larrena and Bogar heard the name clearly too and they all turned to the one traveler who even now sat snuggled up on the floor seemingly unaffected by the activities inside or outside the tree.
Bogar loosened his grip on Larrena and turned to Luther. In a barking command voice Bogar called to Luther, “Wake up Luther, wake and answer my questions.” Luther remained unmoved and unflustered.
Bogar took a step towards Luther only to find the Prince’s sword tip resting between the metal plates of his armor and squarely against his groin. From under the hood of his outer coat Luther spoke softly and slowly, “Man of war stand back or feel my blade take but that which you hold most dear to your brutish character.” Bogar stepped back but gripped his sword tightly ready to defend, “If you are royalty do not rest your life on that, for I have cut the heart out of Kings and Queens alike.”
Luther slapped back the hood and stood before the soldier, “Perhaps you did not find your pray armed ready to defend them. Or maybe you slipped into their sleeping rooms and attacked while they slept. In either case I will not have you, any of you, pass judgment on me.”
Lady Larrena stepped forward and between the two swordsmen, “Prince Luther we mean you now harm, it’s just that we hear men outside and they spoke your name. Then the tree closed it’s doorway and it makes all of us wonder if you did that, who you really are and why men would be looking for you?”
Luther looked about the room and checked the faces full of questions with the red light of the fire dancing on each of their features, “ I told you I am Princes Luther, son of King Kragmor, those men are looking for me because I was due back to my father’s castle two days ago. I had a bit of misfortune, my horse came up lame and I refused to ride her, so I have been on foot since yesterday.”
Bogar studied the young man, “What of the tree door?”
“I am not a wizard, I had nothing to do with that.”
“Then who is holding us here against our will, Bogar demand?
Not a soul in the large room in the tree answered. A minute passed and outside the sound of the men and the horses was beginning to fad. Without warning Prince Luther strolled to the wall where the door had been. Placing his sword against a small lip in the wood he began to force his blade into the space of the lip. Even with metal against wood the tree did not give. Soon Luther’s blade was joined by Bogar’s broadsword, still not a mark was made. The two men glanced at each other in disbelief. Bogar’s angry voice echoed through the hollow tree, “What kind of evil force is this, wood can not hold against metal blades. Stand back Luther, perhaps direct force will beat this magic.”
Luther stepped back just as Bogar gripped the sword with both hands and holding it at chest level, he lunged tip first at the wall. As if the holder of the magic were watching, the wall opened enough for the sword and Bogar’s hands to get through and just as quickly closed back tightly about his wrists. Again, Tolwen fought back the urge to laugh at the big man being man handled by a tree of all things.
Without thinking, Bogar let out a shriek and began pulling against the wall now holding his hands. Soon he had one foot against the wall and was pulling with all his force, unknown by the others outside the tree Bogar’s hands were being wrenched from side to side until finally his handles dropped the heavy sword to the ground. Just as the sword hit the ground, the wall suddenly opened and Bogar flew backwards to land on his back-side and came to rest in curled up ball, looking much like fuzzy caterpillar. Bogar laid there for a moment or two before regaining is senses and a mind of where he was and who he was with. In one roll and scuffle Bogar was on his feet adjusting his clothes and wiping the dirt from the seat of his pants. With his face still red from the recent event Bogar walked to the wall where the opening should have been and he stood staring at the wall as if willing it to open.
         Several minutes passed and just as Bogar gave a heavy sye and turned away from the wall the wall cracked from the ground to about seven feet up, the crack grew and once again the opening of the tree trunk room had returned. Bogar turned back towards the opening and to the amazement of everyone, a smile crossed Bogar’s rugged face. Bogar headed for the opening and just as he reached the opening Bogar had a sudden flash of memory of his hands being thruster about and him being held by the tree. Bogar reached the opening and peered out cautiously. 
It was Tolwen that saw the over sized root first and although the proper thing would have been to warn Bogar the warrior, the devilish part of Tolwen’s heart just couldn’t muster up the words in time. The root seemed to drop and thrust at the same time as it pushed and lifted the warrior just off the ground and pushed him through the opening in the wall. Before he knew it Bogar found himself flying through the air only to land a few inches from his recently stolen sword. At the same time he inherited a mouth full of dirt and grasses which he quickly spit from his mouth as he grabbed his sword and sprang to his feet and turned to face the foe that had attacked him from behind.
Bogar only found the Massive tree and the other travelers standing at the opening.   
peering back at him. Feeling both relief and bewildered, Bogar looked about the forest for additional foes but there was no one around, “Ok, which one of you pushed me?” Luther spoke what the others were thinking, “You fool Bogar we did nothing the tree dispensed with you just as it did your sword.” Bogar changed his stance readying himself for battle, “Watch your mouth Luther, there is time to deal with you later.”
Luther smiled, “Are you sure your battle with the tree is complete? I wouldn’t want to come between you and you most unworthy foe!”
“Do not mock me little man, sword or not I would not take pity on you.”
Luther bowed in a scornful manner, “I ask no pity soldier, for I know you have none in your heart. I ask only that leave this forest with what little pride you have left after being bested by a tree.” Luther stepped out of the tree trunk and gave Bogar another half hearted bow before sharing a grin and laugh at Bogar’s expense.
Bogar could stand it no longer he raised his sword and charged Luther while bellowing out a battle cry. Luther stood his ground and his sword appeared out of nowhere. Bogar took only a couple of steps before a sudden burst of light appeared between the two men. Bogar stopped and shielded his eyes, as did Luther. When the light disappeared, both men blinked and forced their eyes to adjust. Just as Bogar was about to attack again a thundering, voice startled all the travelers to freezing in their steps.
“Enough, enough of this fighting. I have seen enough. I will have no more fighting in my forest.” With that the travelers all were drawn to the tree again as the color of the bark turned dark purple and the wood turned to velvet. Before the travelers where the tree had stood, stood a man standing some thirty feet tall wearing a purple rob and hood.  The man brushed back the hood from his head and leaves and branches fell among the travelers. As the travelers looked on the huge man waived a hand about mumbled something and suddenly began to shrink down to stand only about six feet tall. The man had jet black hair and a full bushy beard and mustache, his eye were blacker than his hair and they shot daggers at the travelers. In a voice that still rumbled through the forest he spoke in a angry tone, ”Enough, I provide you with lodging, food, the company of my Queen, the warmth of a fire, the protection from questionable soldiers and yet you fight among yourselves like children. The two of you reflect the dark side of man. You are unruly, dishonest, ungrateful and no gentlemen in the lowest possible meaning of the word.” Bogar lowered his sword, as did Luther, both men looked at each other then at the stranger. Bogar asked, “Who are you?”
The stranger’s eyes glaring stare danced from one man then to the other, “I am King Gulin, the wizard and keeper of these woods.”
Luther knelt on one knee and bowed his head, King Gulin forgive me I meant no disrespect.”
Bogar planted the tip of his sword lightly into the ground and leaned on the handle with both hands, “That’s fine for the royal pup there but I bow to my king and that is not you.”
Gulin straighten his body and a smile crossed his face, “Be glad I am not your king, but understand that you are on my land and while you are, you are my dupe to do with as I wish!”
Bogar raised his sword, “Then I will have to defend the honor of my king.”
Gulin narrowed his glare at Bogar; “Honor is one thing you know little about, that was clear from the moment you took shelter from the storm. You fought when there was no foe, and defend where there is no honor. You sir, are a fool. I will thank you to leave my forest.”
Bogar looked about the other travelers, he was unaccustomed to being ordered about and saw no reason to start now. Bogar cleared his throat then said, I go where I want when I want.”
Gulin just smiled and with the gesture of his hand the nearby trees stretched their limbs and scooped Bogar off his feet while wrapping around the sword and pulling it from his hand. Like a line at a fire passing a bucket of water the trees quickly moved Bogar from tree to tree until he and his screams disappeared into the forest. Gulin looked at Lady Larrena, “In minutes he will be dispensed to the edge of the forest and we will never need to see him again.”
Lady Larrena smiled softly and bowed slightly, “Thank you my Lord. Now for these others?”
Gulin reached up placing his right hand on his chin and rubbing it slightly, “Yes, yes in deed what shall we do with them? Oh I know” A big grin Gulin waved his right hand and suddenly a large table with chairs appeared out of thin air. On the table were trays of chicken, turkey, ham sliced thick and thin, bowels of fruit and vegetables, and breads in many forms. “Please my friends sit and enjoy.”
All this time Tolwen had sat back, watched the power of this wizard king, and wondered if there was a limit to what he could do. With a feast set before him Tolwen  moved slowly to the table, there was a low chair just his size at the end of the table but, once he sat there the chair’s legs began to grow until Tolwen was raised to the proper level with the table. Tolwen looked startled from the moment the chair began to grew until it stopped and then his eyes met those of Lady Larrena. “It is ok my friend, please enjoy the food, I know you must be hungry.”
In deed, Tolwen was starving but all this magic and wizardry had Tolwen feeling a bit uneasy. Looking about he waited for Luther to join him and maybe Lady Larrena and the wizard king. Each in turn, they all took places around the great table. Besides the food and wine, the four talked of life, gifts, friendships and treasure. Finely concluding these things could be considered the same thing depending on your state mind. Food was great and the wine flowed for hours until they all had their fill.
When the sun was at it’s highest reach Luther and Tolwen thanked their hosts the wizard king and Lady Larrena and headed down the road together. The path was soft soil, no rocks, and a canopy of tree limbs blocking the high sun and giving cooling shade to the travelers. After an hour or so of walking in silence Tolwen cleared his throat, “Prince Luther, do you think Bogar is ok?”
Luther thought for a moment, “Yes, I believe he was handed off from tree to tree just as King Gulin said and released at the edge of these woods.” Several minutes passed without another word until Tolwen spoke again, “You are not really a Prince are you?”
Luther stopped and looked at his companion walking slowly way from him, “No, Tolwen I am a prince of a certain kind, just not the kind that you may think of.” Tolwen stopped and turned slightly then looked over his shoulder, “I thought as much. Care to share what you really are since we appear to be traveling together?” Luther smiled slightly and started to walk again, pass Tolwen and down the pathway, “I am your companion for now, I am what ever you wish me to be.” Tolwen matched stride for stride, “You are, you are King Luther of Planmor Castle and you are journeying to the great lake with your trusted companion Tolwen in search of adventure, yes that will do.” Tolwen nodded his head. The two walked down the path until they were out of sight.


Luther watched his traveling companion from the corner of his eyes. Tolwen was a curious little man, not a dwarf, or a elf, he was to lean for a dwarf and his skin too dark for an elf although he did have the pointed ears except Luther had never seen a elf with blue hair growing as small tuffs at the tip of the ears. Even his clothing seemed out of place. The robe and the hooded cape was of fine material, as fine as his own cloak and hood. Although he had not gotten a good look at the sword the small man carried and covered with his robe, he was sure he had seen stones of high quality on the handle and the sheath. It was clear that foot wear was made by a skilled boot maker, most elves he had seen preferred to wear lose foot wear and dwarfs wore heavy boots to protect themselves from the rugged ground of their land.
Luther watched and studied Tolwen most of the morning; at the same time, Tolwen pasted the time talking about the wizard king and the Lady Larrena. Seemed the little man was an appreciative of fine boned ladies of fair skin and golden hair. Tolwen compared The Lady Larrena to women of his past adventures, some personal encounters that Luther doubted but did not saw no need to challenge.