Fire Bringer

by David Clement-Davies

  ‘But you believe in Herne, don’t you, Rannoch?’ he whispered.

  Rannoch stopped scraping at the ground.

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ he answered, ‘though I didn’t find him on the Great Mountain.’

  Haarg stared at him as though he had just seen a ghost.

  ‘You’ve been on the Great Mountain?’ Rannoch nodded.

  ‘But if they ever found out it would be certain death for you,’ said Haarg.

  ‘Then they mustn’t find out,’ said Rannoch simply. Haarg was quiet for a while. He looked sad.

  ‘I should like to visit the Great Mountain,’ he said quietly, ‘before I die.’

  ‘Then why don’t you?’

  ‘It is forbidden. I can never leave the red river. That is their decree.’

  Rannoch felt bitterly angry. He stamped the ground and tossed up his antlers.

  ‘Haarg,’ he said, ‘have you never thought of escaping?’ Haarg looked out wistfully across the snowy moors.

  ‘How could I?’ he muttered. ‘I’ve no antlers and there is much danger out there for a Herla. Besides, Herne’s Herd would only track me down.’

  ‘But have you never wanted to be free?’

  ‘We will be freed at the time of the Coming,’ answered Haarg flatly, shaking his head, ‘when we will go up to roam through the stars.’

  ‘No,’ said Rannoch, ‘I mean free to be a real Herla in the Great Land. Free to wander the hills and drink from the burn and loch. Free to wallow in the cool mud, to chew the heather and gorse and follow a breath of wind if it takes your fancy.’

  Haarg’s eyes had grown wide with wonder.

  ‘And never have to collect berries and fungi again?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Like the Outriders you told me about?’

  ‘Yes, Haarg, like the Outriders. Though with their freedom is mixed something else; the duty to protect the herd.’

  ‘Then they are slaves like us,’ said Haarg.

  ‘No, Haarg, for they choose to be Outriders. And they roam where they will, while guarding the herd too. They answer only to their captains and their service to the herd brings a greater freedom within them, or so Mother says.’

  ‘What’s it like to be an Outrider?’

  At this Rannoch grew a little embarrassed. He realized that he had been telling Haarg only what had been repeated to him by Bracken.

  ‘I don’t really know,’ he said. ‘My father was one. His name was Brechin. But that’s all I know about him. Bracken doesn’t really like to talk about him. I think he died long ago.’

  But suddenly there was a bark from behind. The two deer turned to see four hinds coming towards them.

  ‘Haarg,’ cried one of them furiously, ‘why aren’t you working?’

  Haarg dropped his head and, without a word, began to scrape at the ground again. The hinds drew close and they would have kicked at Haarg if they hadn’t seen Rannoch’s young antlers and thought better of it.

  ‘Well get on with it,’ said the hind as they turned away again. ‘You know it’s nearly spring and the collection could come at any time.’

  As the hinds wandered away, Rannoch stirred in the snow. The collection would bring a chance to find the herd that ruled in the High Land, and perhaps some answers to his quest. Yet even if they did hold some secret knowledge of Herne, somewhere inside himself Rannoch had already begun to hate them and their rule. As he looked at Haarg scraping wearily in the snow he was suddenly determined to help the deer. It was just a question of how.

  The first moon of the new year came and the hinds began to grow more aggressive towards each other, testing the pecking order that had grown up between them the year before and boxing with their forelegs. This was the hinds’ Anlach. But Liath won out again and the hinds settled down once more. Willow and Peppa stayed aloof from all this, though they could not avoid one or two fights themselves, and they continued to quiz the hinds and make friends as best they could.

  Spring ripened in the High Land. The bracken grew thick and lush and on the open moors spine grasses and heather rose to meet the sunlight. The thistle came into flower and grouse and pheasant flashed through the rocky valleys as the eagle and the osprey looked down from their misty crags.

  The friends shed their antlers and the hummels looked at them with wonder as spring turned to summer and their antlers rose again. This time they were growing their fourth heads and now their tines looked very impressive indeed. They had all grown bez tines off the central beams and their high, branching tops were sharp and well curved. Bankfoot’s antlers were the weakest but Rannoch looked so fine that at a distance he could have passed for a royal. Like Thistle, his body was much heavier and more thickset, his hind haunches had filled out and he walked with a firm, prancing gait.

  It was the middle of August and they were all growing impatient for the collection. The hinds had expected it to come much earlier but still they waited and the harvest went on. Rannoch had shed his velvet when Willow found him standing alone by the red river and looking thoughtfully into the water.

  ‘Rannoch,’ she called, ‘Rannoch. Peppa was talking to Hoy this morning and she says they are expecting the collection any sun now.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rannoch, ‘we must be ready to follow them when they come. Peppa, you and Bracken should stay together as much as you can now. We’ll do the same. Then we’ll be ready to leave when the right moment arrives.’

  Willow nodded.

  ‘But, Willow, I want you to be especially watchful for the next few suns.’

  ‘Why?’ said Willow.

  ‘Because I’m going away for a short time. You’ll be in charge.’

  ‘Going away?’

  ‘Not for long. I’ve got to do something to help Haarg.’

  ‘But how?’ said Willow.

  ‘The stags’ antlers,’ he said, ‘and the structure of the herd. It’s not natural as they think it is. I think it’s a kind of sickness. They only believe it’s natural because they’ve never known any different. That adds to the power that Herne’s Herd has over them. But I think it would be different if they went away from the valley and this river.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Willow.

  ‘Their antlers,’ said Rannoch.’I think it’s the red river that has stunted them. I’m going to follow it upstream.’

  ‘What can I do?’ said Willow.

  ‘Look after the others and watch for the collection.’

  ‘Right,’ said Willow. ‘If there was any trouble I think at least a few of the hinds would be on our side. Not all them like the way the herd is run.’

  ‘Very well, then.’

  Rannoch set off that same morning, following the course of the river north-east. It took him through high, wild country and it was the middle of the next morning when he began to grow nervous. He had climbed above the eastern banks of the river and he scented them across the bracken. But the familiar urge to start and run was tempered now by a deeper knowledge of what he was looking at.

  The encampment was not large but it was stranger than anything Rannoch had encountered, either with the boy or in the fearful glen. The houses grouped around the river were of peat and stone as usual, but around them loomed strange earth mounds and pits where the hill had been scoured away. In the centre of it all was a great cave mouth and here men were at work, pushing carts piled high with coloured stone down to the river’s edge. Others were sifting through the stones and when they had finished they tipped the contents of the carts into the water, so that where the river passed through the encampment its current had turned a deep and livid red.

  Rannoch blinked as he tried to understand what he was seeing but, without really knowing why, he realized that it was because of this place that the stags in the narrow valley were sick. Rannoch had come across a mine, giving up copper and minerals to serve the humans and help them build. But it also filled the river with its mineral waste, polluting the life-giving water.

  Rannoch watched
gravely and turned away.

  When he got back to the Slave Herd he went straight to see Haarg. That Larn they could be seen on the hill, talking long and hard together as the stars flickered in the sky. Haarg kept shaking his head while Rannoch pawed the ground, and they both looked down solemnly at the river.

  When Rannoch told Willow and the others what he had discovered about the red river they immediately stopped drinking from it, though they hardly understood what Rannoch meant. Most of the stags among the Slave Herd stopped drinking too and there was great tension in the valley. It was partly because all the deer knew that the collection was close at hand and three young fawns had already been picked out by the hinds. But it was also because the stags were beginning to act strangely.

  The twins saw it one early afternoon when they were ruminating on the hillside. They were close to a group of harvesting stags and one of them had stopped what he was doing and was gazing out wistfully into the distance. As he did so three hinds came sauntering by and when they saw him one of them immediately ran up.

  ‘Get back to work,’ she cried angrily. But the stag did nothing.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’

  Still the stag ignored her and the hind turned her back to his haunches and, with a scornful dip of her head, she kicked him. Willow and Peppa fully expected the stag to return to work, for they had witnessed such a scene any number of times, but instead the stag let out a bellow and, dropping his own head, he kicked back. His hoofs hit the hind full on and she barked with surprise. She was so startled she just turned and ran back to the others.

  ‘Good for him,’ whispered Peppa.

  It was eight suns since Rannoch had returned from the mine and he was standing with the others near the red water. Willow had joined them and she had told them all about the incident and other acts of rebellion they had seen in the herd. The hinds were furious.

  ‘What are the stags going to do?’ she was asking now.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Rannoch. ‘It shook them up. Most of them have stopped drinking.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Willow, ‘I noticed that. And there’ve been more and more arguments on the hillsides. The hinds say some of the stags are refusing to harvest.’

  ‘What are the hinds doing about it?’ asked Thistle.

  ‘I think they’re confused,’ said Willow. ‘They’re too worried about the collection at the moment to do anything much. What do you think will happen, Rannoch?’

  ‘Maybe nothing at all,’ he answered. ‘There’s some real discontent now but they’re all too enthralled with Herne’s Herd and Herne’s Hope to be able to really think for themselves.’

  But Rannoch suddenly stopped talking. He was looking across the river and in the gauzy evening light he saw Peppa running straight towards them. She was making no attempt to stay concealed.

  ‘Willow, Rannoch, hurry,’ Peppa cried as she reached them. ‘They’ve come.’

  Rannoch started.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Just now. Twenty stags arrived at the gathering place. Liath, Hoy and some of the others were waiting. They gathered up the harvest in their mouths and they took the calves with them – Furl, Calla and Ragnur. Then they vanished over the western path. If we hurry we can follow their tracks. I’ve left Bracken waiting.’

  ‘Then we must be quick,’ said Rannoch. ’I’m only sorry we can’t do more for Haarg. Come on.’

  With Rannoch leading, the friends sped towards Bracken. The hind was deeply bewildered when they got to her but Peppa and Willow took charge of her and the deer rose out of the valley, following the slots that had churned up the western earth. But as they crested the hill they pulled up.

  In front of them, barring their way, was a wall of hinds. Over thirty of them. Liath stood at the front and her eyes were blazing.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she cried furiously.

  ‘We are leaving,’ said Rannoch.

  ‘I wasn’t addressing you,’ said Liath.

  ‘Nevertheless, I want—’

  ‘Silence!’ shouted Liath.’A stag must not talk to a hind like this. Willow, where do you think you are going?’

  Willow stepped forward and her eyes were blazing.

  ‘Get out of my way,’ she whispered furiously, lifting her head towards Liath.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said, get out of my way.’

  Liath hesitated. She was not used to being talked to like this by either stag or hind, but there was something dangerous in Willow’s look that made her pause. Rannoch came up beside Willow.

  ‘Do as Willow says,’ he whispered. ‘We are going to—’

  ‘Silence!’ cried Liath once more. ‘I have never heard such a thing. It is because of you and your lies that the stags are restless.’

  ‘They are not lies,’ said Rannoch calmly. ‘The river is making your stags sick because of what man puts in it. If you left this place they would be well again.’

  ‘Left this place?’ laughed Liath. ’Are you mad? Abandon the ancient duty of the Slave Herd?’

  ‘Perhaps Herne’s Herd have been telling you lies,’ said Rannoch quietly.

  Liath’s eyes opened in amazement.

  ‘How dare you speak of them?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know, Liath, what they are,’ said Rannoch in a more conciliatory tone, ‘but I’m going to find out.’

  ‘You’re what?’

  ‘We’re going to follow them.’

  ‘No,’ gasped Liath. ’It’s forbidden.’

  ‘Nevertheless.’

  But at this Liath began to thump the ground with her back legs and as she did so the other hinds came forward. At the same moment Tain, Thistle and Bankfoot all stepped up beside Rannoch and Willow. The friends stood shoulder to shoulder, dipping their antlers as Willow glared at Liath. Willow looked at the other hinds too, some of whom had talked of leaving the herd. They dropped their eyes at her gaze and, for a moment, they hesitated. But only for a moment, for it was thirty against six, not counting poor Bracken, and hinds when roused can use their teeth and their legs to great effect.

  But suddenly Peppa cried out, ‘Look, it’s Haarg. Haarg’s coming.’

  It was true. At his side were two of the braver slave stags named Skein and Tannar and Haarg was leading the hummels up the hill towards them.

  ‘What are you doing here, Haarg?’ said Liath contemptuously as the stags arrived. ‘Get back to your harvest.’

  ‘No, Liath,’ answered Haarg, nervous but emboldened by the stags at his back, ‘we want to talk. About what Rannoch says of the river and our antlers.’

  ‘It’s lies,’ said Liath.

  ‘No, it isn’t. I saw it with my own eyes five suns ago. Man is putting something into the river.’

  ‘And what if they are? Do you think they would let us escape? Have you forgotten our duty? We must be humble until the Coming, for that is Herne’s Hope.’

  The hinds and the stags were head to head now, measuring each other up.

  ‘Herne’s Hope has kept us enslaved for generations,’ said Haarg. ’My father believed in it and his father and his father before him. But none of them ever lived to see the Coming. And if it does come, what does it really bring? We will roam the stars, but Liath, have you ever thought what a thing it would be to roam the heather?’

  There was a rumble of agreement amongst the stags, while some of the hinds began to bark with disapproval.

  ‘Silence,’ shouted one hind.

  ‘Madness,’ cried another, jostling a stag.

  ‘No, let Haarg speak,’ called a stag above them, and suddenly the air erupted into an explosion of angry cries.

  But of this Rannoch, Willow and the others heard nothing more, for in the ensuing fight only one or two of the hinds from the Slave Herd even noticed that they had slipped quietly away.

  17 The Dance of the Fawns

  ‘Half-recognized kingdom of the dead: A deeper landscape lit by distant Flashings from their journey.’ Geoffrey Hill, ‘The Stone
Man’

  Rannoch led them on as fast as he could. Although the tracks left by the stags from Herne’s Herd were easy to follow in the soft ground, it was soon clear that they were travelling at tremendous speed, and after a time the friends found it harder and harder to keep up. Where the ground was too hard or rocky to leave slots, Rannoch picked up their signs in broken twigs and clumps of hair caught on the heather and bracken, or simply in the lie of the land and the most likely path a deer would follow.

  Oddly, every now and then and at regular intervals, the deer came on circles left by the stags’ hoofs, where they had clearly stopped to talk and scuffed the ground away. In the centre of these circles they found broken branches or clumps of gorse or some token that seemed to have been placed there as part of a strange rite.

  When they had been travelling for four suns, the deer grew increasingly nervous. Rannoch was especially on edge, for as they drew closer to Herne’s Herd he was beginning to wonder what he was doing running straight into the antlers of these mysterious Herla. He had little idea what he would say to them when he found them and he was haunted by the thought of what he might discover about himself. Whenever he closed his eyes to sleep now he dreamt of Herne.

  One such dream, which came as the dawn began to chase the stars from the sky, had a deep effect on him. In his dream Rannoch found himself on a barren moor and a wind was blowing around his head. There was a voice in the wind and Rannoch knew that it was Herne.

  ‘What is it you are seeking?’ whispered the wind. Rannoch stirred in his sleep.

  ‘To understand,’ Rannoch found himself saying, ‘to be free.’

  ‘To you is granted much understanding,’ came the voice, ‘but you are Lera too. You may not understand all things.’

  ‘Then how can I be free?’

  ‘What is freedom?’ laughed the wind.

  ‘Freedom is running with the Herla,’ murmured Rannoch. ’Freedom is living as an Outrider.’