Fire Bringer

by David Clement-Davies

‘Hurt me?’ he said in amazement. ’A hind hurt a Sgorrla guard?’

  ‘Not just any hind,’ answered Peppa as gravely as she could.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said the guard. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’

  ‘Herne sent me,’ said Peppa, and just as she did so another bank of fog rolled in around her. This time she jumped to the left and skirted a little way around the guard.

  ‘Stand still,’ said the guard angrily. ‘You know it is forbidden to mention Herne.’

  ‘Forbidden?’ whispered Peppa through the mist. ‘Who could forbid it?’

  ‘Lord Sgorr,’ said the guard. ‘And when I—’

  ‘Peace,’ said Peppa. ‘Herne has a message for you. He wants you to know—’

  ‘Silence,’ said the guard even more furiously. ‘What nonsense are you talking?’

  ‘Don’t you believe in me?’ whispered Peppa. ’In Herne?’ Again the fog closed in on Peppa and she darted round the guard. This time she didn’t wait for him to address her before speaking.

  ‘Here I am,’ she whispered, ‘all around you.’

  ‘Stand still, I say,’ snorted the guard, swinging round.

  ‘Stop playing games.’

  Peppa’s face was clearly visible again and she held the guard’s gaze coldly.

  ‘Games?’ she answered. ‘This is no game. The Sgorrla’s cruelty is no game. Why are you torturing me?’

  The guard was about to lunge at Peppa when she backed into the fog.

  ‘Hey, come back,’ he said, but just as he spoke another voice came through the night, right behind him. When the guard turned he was amazed to see Peppa’s face, or what he thought was Peppa’s face, still gazing at him through the fog. It was impossible that the hind could have run round him so fast.

  ‘I am still here,’ said Willow, imitating Peppa’s voice as best she could.

  ‘But. . . how. . .’ stammered the guard, as Willow backed into the fog herself and vanished.

  ‘Because Herne is all around you,’ said Peppa from behind the guard, ‘in the mist, in the trees, in your dreams and worst nightmares.’

  Again the guard turned and there was the hind, back in the spot where she had been speaking before. The guard could hardly believe his eyes. He stamped the ground and shook his head. He thought he was dreaming. The fog had once more swathed Peppa in mystery as she whispered through the night.

  ‘Fear me. . .’

  ‘. . . For I come when you least expect it,’ Willow went on, reappearing to the left of the guard. He was really shaken by now and kept swinging back and forth as the twins played their game of voices.

  ‘I need some sleep,’ muttered the guard to himself, and

  Willow and Peppa fell silent.

  ‘Hey, Praal, what’s up,’ said another deer suddenly through the darkness. ‘I thought I heard voices.’

  It was the guard’s commander, who had been ruminating by the Sycamore earlier and had brought another Sgorrla with him to check up on the patrol.

  ‘Nothing, sir,’ answered Praal, still bewildered by the twins’ trick.

  ‘What do you mean, nothing? You were talking to someone.’

  The guard started to stammer.

  ‘There was a hind over there. . . or at least over there. . . but. . .’

  ‘What’s wrong with you, Praal?’ said the commander angrily. ‘Make sense.’

  ‘She said she was Herne,’ whispered the guard in a voice that was beginning to tremble, ‘and that she was everywhere.’ The commander peered into the fog but could see nothing.

  Yet something about the night and the eerie cloud unsettled him, for they were all nervous with the coming trek and their own night’s work with Bankfoot had filled their hearts with darkness.

  ‘Rubbish,’ he barked. ‘There’s no one out there at all.’

  ‘She came from there,’ said the guard, ‘but in an instant she was behind me again.’

  ‘Praal, have you lost your wits?’ snapped the commander.

  ‘You’ll pay for this in the morning.’

  ‘You must not punish him for telling the truth,’ came a still, calm voice out of the fog. The commander looked up and now he caught sight of Peppa too.

  ‘Who are you?’ he cried as she backed away.

  ‘Herne,’ said Willow from the right, emerging from the fog for just a moment.

  The commander looked at Praal in amazement.

  ‘Catch her,’ he shouted.

  ‘Which way, sir?’ said Praal.

  ‘Over here,’ cried Peppa.

  ‘No, here,’ shouted Willow.

  The three stags hesitated, looking left and right, and then they leapt forward, towards the spot where Willow’s voice had come from. They plunged into the mist and as they did so they caught sight of the hind’s silhouette racing for the trees.

  Willow ran as fast as she could and as soon as she entered the forest she ducked into the bushes where the twins had been talking earlier and froze, her breath hovering on the night air. The guards had been too startled by the sudden apparition to be thinking clearly and they ran on blindly in the darkness, blundering straight past Willow as they did so. The hind waited for just a few moments and then crept out and made for the sycamore.

  ‘Peppa, is that you?’ she whispered through the fog as she caught sight of a shape in front of her.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They’re falling for it,’ said Willow.

  ‘Thank Herne.’

  The mist was thinning again now and the twins could see the two remaining guards by the tree and Bankfoot still sleeping on the ground. The guards had heard the commotion and were looking around warily.

  ‘But there’s no time,’ said Willow.’The others will give up soon enough.’

  ‘Then we must hurry,’ said Peppa, and she sprang forward. Willow gasped as her sister ran straight up to the guard on the right. He swung round as he saw her coming out of the mist and barked a warning at her but, quick as lighting, Peppa turned and gave him an angry kick before springing away again, back into the fog.

  The guard paused in astonishment and then looked from Bankfoot, who was still sleeping, to his comrade.

  ‘Watch him,’ he grunted to the other guard and he leapt after the hind.

  The last remaining guard was now close to Bankfoot, gazing around in confusion as Willow stepped out of the fog a good way away from where Peppa had vanished.

  ‘What the . . . ?’ said the guard in amazement.

  ‘Ghosts,’ cried Willow, loud enough to wake Bankfoot from his painful sleep. When he opened his eyes and caught sight of Willow, Bankfoot was almost as amazed as the guard, but he lost no time.

  ‘Stand there,’ cried the guard to Willow, dropping his antlers threateningly as she approached.

  ‘You can do nothing to a ghost,’ cried Willow as she walked up to him.

  ‘I’ll give you a gouging,’ said the guard.

  He never noticed Bankfoot behind him. He felt it first in his back right-hand leg. The brow tine went straight into his haunch and the guard suddenly bellowed in pain. But as he swung round, Bankfoot struck again, this time at his hoofs, and he was knocked clean off balance. As he fell, Willow turned and lashed out furiously with her hind legs. The blow struck the Sgorrla straight in the face and he was thrown sideways.

  ‘Come on, Bankfoot,’ she cried.

  The hind was already running and Bankfoot didn’t argue. Tired and injured as he was, he raced after her into the mist. The guard on the ground was too dazed and confused to even know what was happening.

  They ran and ran, along the edge of the wood, and now night and the fog came to their rescue for none of the herd spotted them. After a while they rose up the hill and Willow caught sight of the rock where she had agreed to meet Peppa if they got separated.

  ‘We’ll wait here, Bankfoot,’ she panted as they came to a halt.’I hope to Herne she got away.’

  They weren’t long in waiting. They soon heard a deer coming towards them th
rough the darkness. It was Peppa and she was alone.

  ‘Thank Herne,’ cried Willow delightedly.

  ‘I had the devil of a time getting rid of that soft-foot,’ said Peppa, smiling at Bankfoot.

  The sisters stared at each other and suddenly they both burst out laughing.

  ‘If it’s that easy,’ said Peppa, beaming, ‘maybe there’s some hope after all.’

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Willow when they had calmed down a little.’We’d better get back to Thistle. They’ll be waiting and we’ve seen enough here. We’ve even got a little surprise for them,’ she added, smiling at Bankfoot.’I only wish we’d been able to find out about Fern.’

  As she said it Peppa saw the look on Bankfoot’s face.

  ‘Bankfoot, what is it?’ she asked. ‘What’s wrong?’ Bankfoot dropped his eyes.

  ‘Bankfoot, you know something, don’t you?’

  Bankfoot gazed helplessly at the twins.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, ‘but they died. Fern and Alyth together, on the v-v-very day of our escape.’

  Willow and Peppa stood side by side and lowered their heads. Their joy and exhilaration at rescuing Bankfoot had turned to despair. When Willow raised her eyes to Bankfoot again, they were burning with anger.

  ‘Come then,’ she said. ‘The quicker we get back to the others, the quicker we’ll have our revenge.’

  ‘How far away are they?’ said Bankfoot quietly.

  ‘Not too far,’ answered Willow. ‘They’re waiting for us at the corrie.’

  ‘The corrie?’ cried Bankfoot in horror. ‘But that’s where the Sgorrla are going now.’

  ‘Then they know about the others?’ gasped Willow.

  ‘Yes, they saw us all on the hill. Before they captured me.’

  ‘How many are there?’

  ‘Over a hundred and fifty. Fallow deer too.’

  ‘Then we can still beat them there,’ cried Willow.’But there’s no time to lose.’

  As Thistle looked out over the little lake in the sunlight, he pawed the earth restlessly. The night had been fitful and the day’s wait even worse, for as Thistle examined the terrain he had grown more and more unhappy with the meeting place. He was frantically worried about Willow too and kept scolding himself for ever having let the twins go.

  Thistle suddenly started. Bits of slate and rock were skittering down the side of the mountain. As Thistle and the others looked up they could see nothing above them. But now Tain cried out. Stags were coming straight towards them through the pass.

  ‘Quick,’ cried Thistle, but as he said it one of the Outriders bellowed. He was looking up at the mountain again. On the slopes above them antlers were appearing everywhere. Hundreds of them.

  ‘Hurry,’ shouted Thistle, his voice reverberating through the corrie. ‘Form up.’

  They didn’t need to be told twice. The eighty stags came together in the stone hollow, their backs to the lake, one group turned to the walls of the mountain, and the other, led by Thistle, facing towards the pass.

  ‘What do we do?’ cried Tain frantically.

  ‘Fight,’ answered Thistle.’But let them come to us. If they charge, you and Braan take a corps of Outriders right and left of them. Hit them from the sides.’

  Braan and Tain nodded and turned their antlers to face the oncoming stags. They noticed for the first time now that the fifty deer coming towards them were fallow, and the sight of them, so much smaller than themselves, raised their spirits a little. But instead of charging, the fallow deer stopped just beyond the entrance to the corrie. They seemed to be waiting.

  A silence had descended and suddenly a stag was calling out from the mountain above them.

  ‘Outriders,’ cried the lone Sgorrla, gazing down coldly, ‘you are surrounded. There’s no escape.’

  ‘What do you want with us?’ shouted Thistle angrily.

  ‘Nothing but your servitude,’ cried the stag, ‘or your lives. But first I want to know if He is among you. The one with the mark.’

  ‘Rannoch,’ whispered Tain.

  ‘Who dares ask?’ cried Thistle, stamping the ground and bucking his head.

  ‘My name is Narl. But I demand to know in the name of Lord Sgorr.’

  ‘You can tell your master,’ cried Thistle contemptuously, ‘that He is not with us, but that the Outriders have returned to the Low Lands to free the Herla from Sgorr’s tyranny. To restore Herne’s law.’

  ‘Herne’s law,’ snorted Narl. ’There is no Herne. There is only Sgorr.’

  Narl suddenly stopped. He had spied something below him.

  ‘So,’ he called down the mountainside, ‘Braan, you are here too? With some of your traitors, I see. Aren’t you a little too old for such foolishness?’

  Braan snorted and stamped.

  ‘Come down here, Narl,’ he shouted angrily, ‘and I will show you how I can fight.’

  Narl smiled. He wouldn’t have dreamed of doing anything of the kind.

  ‘Braan,’ he answered, ‘the privilege of age and power is that others can do the fighting for you, if you know how to rule. Tharn never understood that. Outriders never could. Colquhar had more chance of doing so but he chose to follow the dumb instincts of the Herla. Which is why he lives, reviled by the Great Herd and as blind as his own beliefs.’

  Braan looked up in amazement and his eyes flashed with anger.

  ‘Lives?’ he gasped.

  ‘But enough,’ Narl went on. ‘It is time.’

  Narl suddenly bellowed and dropped his antlers, and on cue some of the Sgorrla on the slopes around him began to descend towards the Outriders. Several of the Outriders ran up to meet them but now there came a bark from the pass. Part of the group of fallow deer were charging towards them too.

  Seeing them, Thistle cried, ‘Come on.’

  Thistle, Tain, Braan and about twenty other Outriders raced forward to meet them. Braan and Tain split left and right as they went and suddenly the corrie was filled with the clatter of antlers and the bark of fighting stags. But the fight stopped again almost as soon at it had started. Tain was rushing into the fray and he had just gouged one deer with his bez tine when he suddenly realized that the fallow deer were fleeing from them, back to the pass.

  ‘After them,’ he cried delightedly to the others, and was about to rush after them when Thistle called him back.

  ‘Tain, Captain Tain, come back,’ he ordered. ‘That’s just what they want you to do.’

  Tain pulled up and Thistle led them back to the lake where the Outriders were holding off the stags. They were surprised to see how few of the Sgorrla had ventured down the mountain. But it was soon clear why, for now the fallow deer were attacking again. The Sgorrla on the mountainside had no intention of engaging properly but instead were pressurizing the Outriders’ flanks, drawing off as many stags as they could from the main body of Outriders, while the fallow deer charged in.

  But each time the fallow charged they would fight only briefly and then turn and run back towards the pass. Tain and Braan led Outriders to meet each sally and soon their antlers were red with blood and several of the fallow deer lay dead on the edge of the pass.

  ‘This isn’t hard,’ cried Tain as he returned from yet another engagement. His leg was bleeding where a palm antler had caught him unawares, but none of the other Outriders were seriously hurt and Tain was delighted that his first real test as an Outrider was proving him worthy. But Thistle looked back at him gravely, for it was the fifth time the fallow deer had struck and Thistle suddenly realized what Narl was doing. He was slowly sapping the Outriders’ strength.

  Again the fallow deer came on. They seemed to have no thought for their own welfare and soon more and soon more of them lay dying in the grass. Braan had noticed how terrified their eyes looked. But Thistle could see that the Outriders were tiring. Braan and Tain looked quite exhausted with their efforts. It was growing dark in the corrie too, the evening draining the colour from the lake and turning the Outriders to shadows amo
ng the broken stones. But still they fought on as the stars pricked through the sky.

  ‘Do you think we can hold them?’ cried Braan as he and Thistle met once again by the water.

  Thistle pawed the earth.

  ‘The fallow deer are easy enough,’ answered Thistle, ‘though they’ve tired us out. That’s what Narl wants. When he sends in the Sgorrla, who knows what will happen. Our best bet is to make a run for it. We wouldn’t have a chance on the mountain but if we could break through the pass there’s a chance for us.’

  But as he said it there was a bellow from above them. They looked round and realized that the Sgorrla on the mountainside were disengaging.

  There was still enough light to see to the pass and Braan shuddered as he realized that the fallow deer too were drawing back. Then, through the middle of the pass and the bleeding ranks of fallow deer, pushing and shoving them as they came, they saw the Sgorrla. A hundred of them. Advancing in lines and swaying their antlers. They looked strong and fresh. The Outriders tilted their antlers nervously.

  ‘Come on,’ cried a stag suddenly. ‘Which of the Outriders will be first into battle?’

  It was Tain.

  ‘I fight with Captain Tain,’ cried Braan, running up to him.

  Thistle was with them in an instant.

  ‘We must try and break through the middle,’ cried Thistle desperately.

  Thistle could see that the Sgorrla had stopped now and were waiting in their neat lines. Forty of them had come ahead of the others and were stamping the ground.

  ‘It looks like they’re going to attack in groups, like the fallow,’ said Thistle. ‘Well, first we must test their strength. We’ll split into two. Braan and I will lead one party and Tain another. It doesn’t matter which attacks first.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ said Tain immediately.

  ‘Very well. Test them as the fallow tested us,’ said Thistle.

  ‘And Tain. When I call, pull out immediately.’

  Tain nodded gravely and with forty Outriders at his back he led them forward. Thistle and Braan watched as their friend approached the pass. When they were a tree’s length away the front Sgorrla suddenly leapt towards them and the Outriders charged. Their bucking antlers locked and their bodies crashed together. The two groups became one.