Fire Bringer

by David Clement-Davies

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said, ‘there is. But that is not usually considered a part of the proper poem. But if the Lord of Herds—’

  ‘The Lord of Herds wishes it,’ said Sgorr.

  ‘Very well. Now, let me see, how does it go?

  ‘On his brow a leaf of oaken, Changeling child shall be his fate. Understanding words strange spoken, Chased by anger, fear and hate.’

  As he finished Blindweed could see that Eloin was shivering. Afraid that she would betray herself, he snorted loudly and addressed Sgorr again.

  ‘There. Just a bit of old nonsense. I much prefer the story about Herne’s golden hoofs. When I was a young deer I used—’

  ‘Silence!’ cried Sgorr suddenly. ’Blindweed, tell me what you know of a fawn in the herd with an oaken mark on his forehead.’

  Blindweed blinked, but it was clear to him now that Sgorr was only probing and that Rannoch was still safe. How it had been discovered, Blindweed could not guess.

  ‘A white leaf?’ said the old stag, feigning surprise. ‘Impossible. I would have heard about it.’

  Sgorr looked hard at Blindweed. He felt sure that if any deer knew of the whereabouts of the fawn it would be the storyteller. Sgorr knew that the deer couldn’t be one of the older fawns, for all the fawns over a year old had to enter the Drailing where such a thing was bound to be discovered. So if his captain had spoken true, and Sgorr believed he had, he must be among the yearlings. How he had been hidden away Sgorr didn’t know, but he guessed that Blindweed had something to do with it.

  ‘My lord,’ said Blindweed, turning to Drail suddenly, ‘if it is true I would like to see this fawn.’

  ‘The Draila have been looking for him all evening but have found nothing,’ said Drail absently.

  ‘Then the story must be false,’ said Blindweed, greatly relieved. ‘You know how the herd talks.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ snorted Sgorr. ’It is strange how such a thing could have been concealed for so long.’

  Again Sgorr’s single eye bored into Blindweed’s thoughts.

  ‘Strange indeed,’ said Blindweed rather too casually, and then the old stag overstepped himself.

  ‘But what matter if it is true? The Lord of Herds hardly believes such tales.’

  As soon as he said it Sgorr knew that Blindweed was covering up. But he was determined to wait, for he had already decided that he would get nothing from Blindweed with threats. He remembered well Blindweed’s courage that night with Eloin at the stream.

  ‘You surprise me,’ he said. ‘A teller of tales who doesn’t believe his own words. But you are right. They are only tales. The Lord of Herds is simply concerned that something so strange should be valued and honoured. Now, we thank you for your time, Blindweed. It is late and I am sure you have better things to do.’

  Blindweed bowed and turned to leave.

  ‘But Blindweed. You will be sure to tell us if you hear anything?’

  Blindweed looked back and, with a last glance at Eloin, he nodded again as he set off slowly down the hill. When he was almost out of sight Sgorr turned to two of the Draila next to him and flicked his head. The stags bowed and set off after him.

  ‘Well, Sgorr?’ snorted Drail when they had gone.

  ‘Well, my lord?’

  ‘Tell me, then,’ said Drail, gazing out across the valley at the dark outlines of deer grazing on the heather below. ‘Do you believe it?’

  Sgorr looked carefully at Drail and he smiled inwardly.

  ‘I trust my captain’s eyes, my lord.’

  ‘No, Sgorr. I mean the Prophecy. Do you believe it?’ Sgorr hesitated.

  ‘No, my lord, I do not believe it,’ he said at last. ‘But I believe this, my lord. I believe that the herd may believe it and that a stag with a white leaf on his head could become the focus for every foolish dreamer and malcontent in the valley. I believe that such a one could become a danger to you.’

  Drail was quiet for a time. He began to pace up and down restlessly and then, turning to Sgorr again, he stamped the ground.

  ‘Very well. Find him, Sgorr, and bring him to me.’

  ‘Given time, my lord, I will find him. But tonight it is too dark. Besides, some means is being used to hide him. Tomorrow we will—’

  ‘Tomorrow! Must I always wait for my will to be done?

  And what if when tomorrow comes you still cannot find him?’

  ‘Indeed, my lord. That is a possibility I had considered. He must be among the yearlings and there cannot be that many young, male fawns of under a year old. It would not harm the stock to remove them all.’

  Drail looked hard at Sgorr as Eloin shivered beside him. Cruelty was in his blood now.

  ‘Very well, then,’ he agreed at last. ‘We will wait till tomorrow, after Larn. Then, if there is still no news, put the Draila to work.’

  Sgorr smiled. As soon as his captain had brought him the news of Rannoch, Sgorr had set to work trying to see a way in which he could turn it to his advantage. If Drail acted against the yearlings so blindly, Sgorr would have the perfect opportunity to spark a revolt and to place himself at the head of the herd.

  The deer stood together and stared out over the hills. They did not notice Eloin slipping quietly away. Most of the guards had been dispatched to look for Rannoch and in the excitement no one was watching her, so she found it comparatively easy to drop down behind the Home Oak and run, as fast as she was able, to find Bracken and her fawn.

  ‘Listen to me, all of you,’ Bhreac was saying urgently in the darkness on the edge of the meadow. ’We must go, as quickly as possible.’

  Behind the old deer stood Eloin and Bracken. Around them were about twenty of the selach. Canisp was there. Shira and Alyth too. The hinds, those that Bhreac had managed to muster without alerting the herd, were standing blinking nervously, trying to understand what Bhreac was telling them.

  ‘Your fawns are in danger,’ Bhreac went on gravely. ’You must get them away from here. The yearlings anyway.’

  ‘But where shall we go?’ said a hind called Linden. ’With no stags to protect us we won’t have a chance travelling in winter.’

  ‘Your fawns won’t have a chance if you stay here. We can go west through the woods and then set out north beyond the valley.’

  ‘But why must we go?’ said another hind called Shian. ’I don’t believe that Drail would do anything to harm the little ones.’

  ‘Don’t be foolish, Shian,’ said Canisp from the back.

  ‘Haven’t you heard what Eloin has been saying? Can’t you see what’s happening in the herd?’

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Shian a little guiltily, ‘but my fawn has done nothing. Why should they harm him?’

  Again Bhreac tried to explain about Bracken’s fawn but half the hinds looked at her uncomprehendingly.

  ‘Why don’t you give them Rannoch then?’ said a deer suddenly. She was called Brora and had once been one of Captain Straloch’s hinds. ‘It isn’t right that we should all suffer for the sake of a single fawn. Besides, if there is anything in the Prophecy, perhaps the lord should know it.’

  At this the hinds began to murmur and Bhreac fell silent, for she knew well what they were asking of their friends. But Alyth stepped in.

  ‘Shame on you, Brora,’ she snorted. ’You would have a little one given up to the Draila to be killed? What if it were your fawn?’

  ‘It’s only Bracken and Bhreac who say he will be harmed,’ replied Brora rather shamefacedly. ’How do we know what Drail wants with him?’

  ‘Eloin knows all right,’ said Bhreac, suddenly roused again. ’And if you can give him up to Sgorr and the Draila so easily you make me ashamed to bear the name of Herla. Have you forgotten Captain Straloch?’

  Brora fell silent but Shian began to speak again.

  ‘I would not give Rannoch up,’ she said loudly, ‘and this sun I have seen the Draila searching for him and I am no lover of theirs. But I cannot believe what you say about the danger to the yearlings. Not even Drail
would do such a thing. You are frightened and that I understand. Well then, go if you must and I wish you luck and Herne’s speed. But what you ask of us is too much.’

  ‘Shian. We ask nothing of you,’ said Bracken, stepping nervously into the group. ’We warn you, that is all. If Eloin had not come with news of Drail’s plan we would be gone long before now.’

  At the mention of Eloin another hind spoke out. Her name was Dorain and she had once stood with Brechin too and, although hinds are not generally competitive once they share a mate, somewhere she felt a deep jealousy of Eloin. In truth some of the hinds had always resented her for stepping forward at Anlach.

  ‘What has Eloin to do with this?’ she said. ’She stands with Drail. For all we know she is setting a trap for us.’

  This had a powerful effect on the assembled hinds for many believed, knowing nothing of that night by the stream, that Eloin had betrayed Brechin. At last Eloin herself spoke.

  ‘Why should I wish to trap you?’ she said proudly.

  Her heart was full of anger and bitterness at the stupidity of the deer.

  ‘I don’t know,’ answered Dorain. ’But there are many who would see the Outriders’ hinds driven from the herd. Besides, you have no fawn yourself. Maybe you’re jealous.’

  Bracken threw a pained look at Eloin.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ said Eloin, her huge eyes flashing. ‘I hate Drail as much as any here. As for Sgorr I shudder to speak of him. But it is because I stand with him – as you call it, though he can hardly limp – that I know the danger that your fawns are in.’

  The dignity with which Eloin spoke seemed to stir the hinds, but Dorain broke the spell.

  ‘All I know,’ she said, ‘is that I would rather eat poison berries than answer to Drail.’

  ‘Dorain is right,’ agreed Shian. ’We cannot trust Eloin and I would rather take my chance here than take my fawn out into the hills in winter to Herne knows where.’

  Some of the hinds muttered in agreement and when

  Bhreac spoke again there was anger in the old doe’s heart.

  ‘You are fools. But be that as it may, we have done what we can. Now we must hurry. Any hind and her fawn who wishes to join us is welcome. Let the others go back to their grazing.’

  The hinds stirred and looked nervously at one another. But Linden, Dorain, Shian and Brora turned and started to walk away. Other hinds followed their lead. Finally there were only five left. Canisp, Shira and Alyth stayed. The other two were called Morar and Fern. Morar was a six-year-old with a yearling buck called Quaich. The young hind named Fern was unusual in that she had two fawns. They were twin does called Peppa and Willow.

  ‘Well then,’ said Bhreac, trying to sound as cheerful as possible, ‘so few. Never mind. We will travel faster. Go and wake your little ones. We must leave right away. We will meet at the pool. But make sure to go by different paths so as not to arouse the suspicions of the Draila. The curfew still holds but, thank Herne, the night is overcast so we have a chance.’

  The hinds nodded and padded away to wake their fawns.

  ‘Well, my dear. We have done what we can,’ said Bhreac, turning to Eloin. ’You must not blame yourself if the hinds are fools. Now, what will you do?’

  ‘You are coming with us, surely?’ said Bracken genuinely, although the thought of losing Rannoch pained her deeply.

  Eloin was silent for a while. When she spoke she was shaking.

  ‘No. I am staying here.’

  ‘But Eloin,’ whispered Bracken.

  ‘I’ve made up my mind. If Drail really plans to harm the yearlings I may have some influence yet to stay his will. Besides, if he finds I have gone with you he will never stop hunting you.’

  ‘You may be right, my dear,’ said Bhreac sadly. Eloin could see that the old hind was deeply affected and her tone suddenly changed.

  ‘Well then, it’s settled,’ she said cheerfully. ’Now, you must get away from here. But Bracken, may I say goodbye to Rannoch?’

  Rannoch was standing with Tain and Shira when the hinds arrived. The little fawns were sleepy and bewildered for it was very late by now and they hardly understood what was happening. While their mothers had been at the meeting they had been allowed to play together, watched by one of the younger hinds.

  ‘Rannoch,’ said Bracken softly, calling the fawn to her side. ’We are going on a journey.’

  ‘Yes, Mamma,’ answered the little fawn gravely, blinking up at her.

  ‘But before we leave I want you to meet a deer who has been very kind to us,’ said Bracken quietly as Eloin walked up to Rannoch.

  Eloin’s eyes were full of love. ’Hello,’ she said softly. ’Your name is Rannoch, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Who are you?’

  ‘My name is Eloin, little one. I am. . .’ Eloin faltered. ’I

  am . . . a friend of your father’s.’

  ‘Of my father’s?’ said Rannoch, his eyes opening wide. ’I never knew my father but Mamma says he was brave and strong.’

  ‘Yes, Rannoch, Brechin was brave and strong and he would be proud to see how you have grown into a fine little fawn.’

  Rannoch was embarrassed, but as he looked at Eloin he felt something strange stir inside.

  ‘And now you must be brave and strong like him,’ Eloin went on, ‘for on your journey there will be no bucks to guard your mother, so you and your friends must be the stags.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rannoch wonderingly. ’We’ll try.’

  ‘Now. Let me say goodbye to you properly,’ said Eloin. Rannoch wanted to run back to Bracken as Eloin came

  closer and licked him gently on the muzzle, but something told him not to resist. He just stood there with his tail quivering until Eloin’s loving gaze released him and he ran back to Bracken’s side.

  Shira and Tain were ready now, their breath turning to steam in the frosty darkness. Bracken and Bhreac took their farewell of Eloin, which would have been almost too painful for the old deer if Eloin hadn’t been so strong, urging them all to hurry and wishing them luck. Finally they were set.

  Rannoch looked back as they padded into the darkness and he saw Eloin watching him, then he turned away and trotted up close to Bracken’s side. As the deer vanished into the night Eloin shook herself. It would have been impossible to lose her little one a second time if she hadn’t known that this was the only way to save him and that she herself had much to do. She set off too, skirting west towards the pool.

  As they had been told, the hinds took different paths to the stream. The night was black and the Draila were tired after their search for Rannoch. Besides, the word had gone out that they would have hard work the following sun, so they were mostly off guard. But as Bhreac, Bracken, Rannoch, Shira and Tain made their way through the night they might have been caught by two Draila who grew suspicious when they saw the deer moving quietly through the blackness, if a hind had not suddenly emerged behind them and ordered them to escort her to the Home Oak. It was Eloin.

  So they reached the pool without incident. Alyth, Morar and Fern were there already with their four calves but Canisp and Bankfoot were nowhere to be seen. Tain was full of the adventure and kept conjuring up stories of the woods and the mountains, but Rannoch was subdued for he knew that the deer had to leave because of him and he didn’t understand why. Thistle kept close to Alyth. He was upset at leaving his friends and he was already thinking of spring when he was due to go into the Drailing.

  They waited and waited and Bhreac began to get very nervous, for she could scent the morning on the breeze and still Canisp had not arrived. At last the old deer made a decision.

  ‘We’ll have to go,’ she said gravely. ’They know the path we are taking.’

  Rannoch’s ears pricked up.

  ‘But Mamma,’ he whispered to Bracken, ‘we can’t leave without Bankfoot.’

  ‘There is nothing we can do,’ said Bhreac. ’Don’t worry, my little one, he’ll be all right.’

  So the hinds and their
fawns began to climb the hill behind the flat rock where the Draila had spied Rannoch’s fawn mark. The hinds went in single file, the fawns at their side and Bhreac in front, snaking up the mountain through the thin covering of trees on this side of the valley. By the time they reached the top of the western hill and stopped to look back, the darkness had lifted and dawn was beginning to come up, streaking the mist with bands of pallid gold. But the skies were still heavy with cloud and the light was slow to come. In the valley below they could see the herd, mostly lying down or beginning to wake and stir, rising to graze or to feed their young. The stags too were stirring and members of the Draila were already gathering at the Home Oak. The hinds shuddered as they watched their antlers cutting through the chill air.

  In the half light the hinds never spied the old stag who was watching them from the meadow. It was Blindweed. His eyes were moist and his limbs tired.

  ‘Chased by anger, fear and hate,’ he muttered to himself sadly and, shaking his head, the storyteller turned away.

  ‘Come,’ said Bhreac quietly on the top of the hill but, before she led the hinds away, she called Rannoch to her side.

  ‘You don’t need to hide that any more,’ she whispered. Bhreac began to lick Rannoch’s forehead until the leaf

  stood out clear on his brow. Then the hinds, five of them accompanied by an old doe, led their little deer out of the home valley. As Eloin’s fawn went he felt something fall on his face. It was cold and tingly as it melted on his nose.

  It had started to snow.

  5 The Bridge

  Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore’. Edgar Allan Poe, ‘The Raven’

  Though this was the first snow of winter it fell thick and fast, as it will in Scotia, in great wet flakes that flurried and swirled in the air. Soon the hinds could hardly see where they were going and the pace became desperately slow. But the blizzard also brought a blessing, for it meant that when news reached Drail of a group of deer who had taken their calves and abandoned the herd, the Draila could not act for a full day. Scouts were sent to the brow of each hill but they could see nothing in this weather and they soon returned to wait until the skies cleared. When they were finally able to travel, a full sun later, Drail had no idea where the hinds had left from or where they were going. He sent out four parties of deer to scour the hills and others to warn the neighbouring herds to look for a calf with a white leaf on its brow.