The plain's name might have been Solitariness.

It lay naked of anything more than small scattered stones and bushes.

There upgrew before him the tree to which he was bound.

A solitary, twisted oak it shot out of the plain, its protruding roots holding stones in their grasp.

Around was shelterless and bare, but the heightening wall of cliff seemed to be watching.
Alexander rode nearer, dismounted, left Gil with the two horses, and, the bag of gold in his hand, walked to the tree.