In a parallel dimension, on another earth that has the same geography as ours, were other kingdoms such as the kingdom of Florestia. It was a kingdom of treemen, the Arbolarbres, humanoids with tree bodies and motor skills. This kingdom stretched from what we call north to central Spain. From what we call the Basque Countries to Segovia; from the town of Oakvalley to Saint-Cèdre.
It was in this kingdom, in Oakvalley, that Oak Quercus, a 20-year-old adult treeman lived. He lived in a sprawling stone country house with his parents, his wife, and his two sons. A short walk away was a stable. Fields of potatoes, tomatoes, lettuce, soybeans, and beans surrounded it.
Oak was sleeping in his white-plastered bedroom lying on a duck-feather bed. The bed was supported by wooden beams and laid next to a drawer. His mother turned the red cedar doorknob and entered.
"Wake up Oak, it's the second time that I come to wake you up today, it's noon and we need you." Oak Quercus' mother said, trying to pull the blanket off his body.
Oak stayed in the bed and pulled the blanket back over himself. "Argh, mom, I don't wanna, it's so great here, why get up when we can stay down."
"I give you a few minutes, not more."She said, shutting the door abruptly behind her.
She returned to the kitchen, a large kitchen with a stove fueled by a fire and a counter for cutting vegetables. Three buckets of water had been placed on the counter. The buckets were used for various tasks such as washing, cleaning, and preparing food.
She picked up one of those buckets with one hand and walked back to the bedroom. She abruptly grabbed the doorknob and entered.
She poured a bucket of cold water into his face. "Enough, rascal. You get up!"
The water poured on his jumbled green leaves haircut and dripped on his rumpled clothes.
He waved the branches he used as his arms, in the air, in protest.
"Aw, why you doing that? So barbaric, I gonna remember, old hag."
Her mother left the room and returned to sit in the dining room, which was a few steps away from the kitchen. The dining room contained an imposing solid cedar table. On the table, were placed iron utensils alongside a few glasses of water and inexpensive porcelain bowls.
Bowls filled with a tasty salad. A salad that consisted of lettuce, cucumbers, potatoes, onions, tomatoes, thyme, and red beans.
Oak stayed in bed for a few moments, then suddenly got up, removed his clothes, and put them beside his bed in a pile. Then, he opened his drawer from which he took out new clothes. He put on a white linen shirt, white linen pants, and black linen socks. Then he walked through the door to join his family in the dining room, a room next to the kitchen. In the dining room, a sunflower oil-powered ceiling lamp hung above the table...
The whole family, seated at the table in wooden chairs, waited for Oak. On the left, were his father, John Quercus, and his mother Cinthia Quercus. On the right, sat his wife, Jasmine Blossom, and his children, Kelly and Régis Quercus.
They looked like reddish-barked oaks. Green leaves filled their hair and their arms were made of branches.
But they all had different sizes, eyes colors, behavior, and age. Kelly and Régis were 15 and 16 years old respectively with a thin build. Jasmine was two years Oak's senior with a brawny build. John and Cinthia were in their fifties with a scrawny build, typical of their age. They were all quite young. Normal Arbolarbres could live up to 150 years while their Wizards could live to 500 years.
Oak's mother looked him straight in the eye. Her big blue eyes filled with tears of disappointment as she lowered her arms. "Yesterday, you did not feed the horses three times like you had to. Now, they do not want to work, they even refuse to move and eat. We paid a lot for this new plow, and we cannot even use it. The tax collectors will come soon and claim their due. What are we going to do?"
Oak's father, John Quercus put his fist on the table. The hard oak of his arm bumped into the solid cedar of the table and propagated a scent of sawdust in the air.
* Bang *
"We will find a solution, right, my son? You will not stay there, sitting on your ass for the rest of your life, basking like a pasha, in your bed, for half a day. In this life, we need to drudge to make ends meet, there is no miracle stuff, only good old elbow grease. Join me this afternoon, you and Régis, I will show you how we used to do it, in my days, when there was no plow."
He said, pointing his son and grandson with his fingers pointed and sharp like a stake.
Oak sighed, putting his head back on the table to sleep. His father ignored him and continued talking, scraping the table with his fist. * Scrii, Scrii*
"We will do the same tomorrow and every other day until the tax collectors arrive. We're going to be working so hard that they won't have a say in this year's harvest. You will quickly see why horses need to be taken care of. " he said, staring at Oak, without a smile, expecting his answer."
"I don't wanna, got things to do like ahem, read cousin's Pero book." Oak said stretching his arms out on the table as a pillow and then putting his head onto them.
Jasmine got up from her chair, walked over to him, and put a hand on his head.
Oak lifted his head and stared into the gray eyes of his wife, who was 2 years his senior.
"You've read it three times already, make a man of yourself and join your son and your father for once. Do it for me and our children. If we do not pay our taxes, we will lose the farm, or worse, we will go to jail. "
His kids, Kelly and Regis looked at each other and sighed at their father's lack of work ethic. They were to spend the summer vacation with him until school started again.
Oak looked at his kids then nodded, digging into the salad with his fork and then taking a bite of it. His family accompanied him. They ate in silence for several minutes savoring the tangy taste of the thyme and tomato-scented salad.
Once his bowl was finished, John Quercus got up from his chair. He picked up the bowls and utensils which he put on the kitchen counter. Then he grabbed a bucket of water and poured some into each bowl, which he then washed with a cloth.
The kids and Oak's wife got up from their chairs. They walked over to the counter to help him as Oak sat comfortably in his chair.
"Oak, you won't sit forever, right?" Come help us!" John Quercus said, rubbing hard to remove some tomato juice from a fork.
" OK," Oak said before he got up painfully from his chair and somehow helped his family with the dishes.
Oak stood between his daughter and son. His children were standing in front of the counter, to their grandfather's right and their grandmother's left. Then he ran his hand through Regis' hair in a paternal gesture.
"Regis, are there a few girls that you like at school?"
Regis' face flushed red and he reached out to remove his father's hand from his hair.
"Huh… Amélie" said Régis, lowering his head, making a few green leaves fall on the ground.
"Once we get rid of the collectors, you will ask her to go out with you and then introduce her to me… I will always be there for you"
Oak's father then stopped scrubbing the dishes and set them on the pine counter. The bowls and utensils diffused the scent of fresh water and cleanliness. "It's time to go check the crops…" John said, motioning for his son and grandson to follow him.
Oak pouted and whispered to himself: "we gotta always work…." before following Regis and his father through the dining room, to a door that was a few yards away. The door was recessed into the stone wall and held up by iron hinges. At the foot of that door, on a dusty carpet, were freshly waxed hemp shoes that smelled like new shoes.
They tucked their feet into their shoes. They walked through the doorway and walked to a stone stable that was right next to the house. They stopped in front of the door and turned the knob. Then they rushed inside and walked across the hay-strewn ground. Their shoes made a muffled sound.
* Tamp, Tamp *
Directly in front of them stood a wooden enclosure sealed by a chain with a lock. In there was hay as well as two overo horses and an overo pony.
John Quercus briskly approached it and his grandson did the same. While Oak stayed further back, away from the pen. John took out a key, turned it on the lock, and removed the chain, then opened the stable door, the door made of white pine.
John freed the three horses who rested their feet on the haystacks. They gasped with pleasure at the sight of the father. Yet they suddenly fell silent at the sight of Oak. "Ah, they recognized you Oak, try to get on one of them, hahaha," John said, laughing heartily. The 20-year-old father approached the pony apprehensively.
When he got to the little beast, he mumbled to himself. "You ain't a worker like me, father's too generous, wanting to feed you thrice a day."
* Hiinnnnnnn, Hinnnnnnnn * replied the horse in complete disagreement.
"That's it, prove me wrong," Oak said before stepping onto the horse's back. He held it by the bridle that had been fitted to its head.
At the contact of Oak's bark on his skin, the pony rushed out of the stable, through the door that had remained open. He crushed a haystack under his hooves and spread a smell of grass throughout the room.
Oak fell, taken aback by the horse's sudden gallop. He plunged headfirst into a large haystack that absorbed the impact.
"Hahahaha, my son, you will have to walk, I fed him well from what I see." Said John Quercus, well mounted on his horse.
"Very funny" replied Oak, brushing off the hay that had gathered on his bark to then come back on his feet.
"Dad, I would give you a ride on Poppy, but he would throw us down. Said his son Régis who stroked the mane of his horse Poppy.
"No need, I'm gonna do the rest on foot". Said Oak, coming out of the stable first, followed by his father and son, who trotted behind him.
At the same time, the little pony returned to the comfort of the stable and went out to eat hay in his pen.
Once outside, Oak and his family embarked on a dirt road, a road they traveled for a few minutes. In front of them, fields stretched as far as the eye could see, on either side of a river enclosed by two immense chains. of mountains. These fields were provided by the crown to Oak's ancestors. They had signed an indefinite servitude contract. The contract stipulated that they were to provide a good part of their harvest to the king. The King gave them this land in exchange.
They took a few steps and arrived in front of the cucumber fields. They saw at first glance the withering leaves. The latter taking on a cracked appearance and a texture of papier maché, spreading a scent of dead leaves in the air.
The leaves tore at the slightest pressure and urgently required advanced irrigation. Regis and his mount as well as Oak stood motionless. They were petrified by the desolation that lay before their eyes.
John leaned on his horse's bridle and walked over to the two men, shaking them out of their torpor. He slapped them several times on the shoulder. "Go fill me several buckets of water at the river, we must try to save our crops before the king's agents arrive. Hurry up! "
They returned with buckets of water and began to irrigate the fields. Yet, torrential rain swept over the valley. It caused a towering cloud of dense, heavy mist to flood the fields.
"Finally saved, it's raining!" Let's find shelter! Let's go under the oak!" John said with a smile on his face.
* Hinn, Hinnn * made the horses, making sure they galloped away from the bad weather... their hooves stomping on a few cucumbers that laid under their feet.
"Calm yourself - John and Regis said jointly to calm the horses, holding their iron bridles firmly."
The horses calmed down then Oak and his family tried to find the oak tree through the mist. Oak and the horses waded through the water-filled field. their bark got wet and gave them the smell of a wet dog.
* Ploc, Ploc, *
They walked and trotted in the cucumber fields until they saw a large Atlas cedar. The cedar had orange, red, and purple leaves. They hid under it and rested. The gentle sound of the rain reverberating on the ground as background noise calmed them.
They dozed off and woke up shortly thereafter when they heard the clatter of horses' hooves wading through large puddles of water ...
Oak, Regis, and John looked straight ahead and had a slight relief at the sight of their horses. The horses had stayed under the tree. Then they panicked at the sound of hooves.
"But who is coming? John said, grasping his horse's bridle firmly, ready to go when he saw several tree-men. A cactus-haired tree-man filled with purple leaves stopped in front of the tree. He stepped into the cucumber fields.
"Hola, young people who cultivate the land. I imagine you are the boys of the Quercus family. I order you to provide me with the third of your harvest. " Karel, the head of tax collectors, said, running his hand through his cactus-shaped hair.
"Hello sir, I thought you would come in a month as agreed last year. What brings you so early? And what? Why do you say that we need to give you a third of our harvest? That's impossible, it's not what was agreed, "said John Quercus, rubbing his eyes to regain his composure.
"Oh yes, it is possible. The king is hosting a banquet to commemorate the inauguration of his new capital, Xidorville. Everyone is invited to join in the festivities and settle in the new capital. Whether you are a peasant, a merchant, or an aristocrat doesn't matter. Every actor will be well received. Thus, he needs a great quantity and variety of fresh fruits and vegetables to please the palates of our guests. And he needs them now." Karel said while smirking arrogantly at the peasants.
"Ah, I see, His Highness has planned some festivities without notifying us. How kind of him ... Only you see the crops are not fully ripe so you will have to settle for a third of what we have right now ... here is one. " John said throwing a dried-up cucumber at Karel to taunt him.
"What do you mean? The king demands fresh fruits and vegetables. He does not want any vegetables or premature fruits or even, as I see, dried cucumbers, that hardly suits the king. They have a bitter and unpleasant taste that will only displease their guests. Besides, they make people burp and burping is hardly worthy of a king's guests." Karel said, crushing the cucumber with his hand and then showing it to his men.
Karel and his troops scoured the fields for fresh, mature cucumbers while circling the Quercus family. They urged them to advance along with them so that they did not escape to avoid paying their taxes.
While walking, Karel and his men bent down to grab the vegetables to check their condition. Only a third suited the King, a third being unripe with a palish green. The other third being completely drowned and having a very soft consistency. the cucumbers shattering to mash at the slightest touch.
"The King will be very disappointed with your cucumber crop ineligibility. But, he could be lenient if you provide him with other products in excellent condition. Your other vegetables aren't like that, are they? Show them to me. He said, resting his sword against the bark of Oak who stood in front of the tax collectors, his father, and his son.
Oak grimaced at the contact of the sword. He turned his head and clenched a fist ready to sink his hand into Karel's chest. A gesture that his father saw, a father who subtly signaled him not to strike. Oak understood the gesture and opened his hand. Karel didn't notice anything. Because he was dismounting his horse to inspect a curiosity, a red cucumber.
" What is that," said Karel, taking a bite in the flavorless cucumber.
" An ornament cucumber," said John, without the smallest hint of pleasure in his voice.
"I'm taking it for the King". Said Karel before seizing the cucumber in his hands and remounting onto his horse. He put his sword on Oak's back.
Oak guided Karel and his men through the other fields. As they walked John and Regis whispered insults behind the backs of the tax collectors. "Cursed vermin."
Karel noticed an unsuitable crop in a field full of water. The leaves of the potatoes had small brown dots that formed soft patches. The patches were surrounded by yellowish sections.
The roots of the plants were also showing signs of purple lesions. White spores sprouted from the lesions. The late blight had seriously affected the potato fields. It had also spread to the tomato fields and the lettuce fields. You could smell the scent of decay, death, and desolation
Even soybeans and beans, though untouched by disease and drought, gave off that foul odor.
Oak stopped in front of a soybean field, picked up a plant in his hands, and was about to tear it up in anger.
"I wouldn't do that, if I was you," Karel said, pressing his blade even harder against Oak's bark.
John and Regis got ready to intervene. But, they were immediately surrounded by Karel's men who had previously been in front of them.
Karel then stood in front of Oak and pushed him towards John and Regis.
"I notice that you have greatly neglected your garden and failed in your duty towards the crown. I compel you to pay a fine of a thousand floraux to reimburse the damages done to the King. If we observe, next year, a harvest like today's, you will be detained for outrage towards the crown. I give you a year to gather the necessary sum and pay the fine. If you come back empty-handed, I will send you to jail, great harvest or not. Got anything else to say?" He said as his men pointed their swords at John and Regis. Their blades grazed their bark and caused them a slight gash. A strong musty green sap dripped from the wound.
" Aaargh, No." Oak's father said, wincing in pain.
Karel smirked at him and left with his men as the sun had come out, to tell the tales of the Quercus Family.