Fire Bringer (11 page)

‘Hush, my dear,’ whispered Bhreac. ’Your mother and I are trying to think.’

‘Perhaps some of the others might come with us,’ said

Bracken hopefully. ‘There’s Canisp and Shira. They’ve talked about leaving the herd.’

Rannoch’s ears perked up, for that meant Tain and Bankfoot too.

‘No, my dear,’ said Bhreac gently, ‘we cannot endanger any of the others. Besides, seven deer would be easier to follow than three. No, we must go alone.’

Bracken nodded, though she was disappointed and terrified of the journey that now faced her and the calf.

‘Don’t worry, Mamma,’ said Rannoch, shaking his tail,

‘I’ll be with you.’

‘Bravely spoken, little one,’ said Bhreac. ’And so you shall.’

Bhreac lowered her head and licked Rannoch on the ears but when she looked at Bracken her old eyes were grave.

‘I wish I knew where Blindweed was,’ she sighed. ‘He may be an old fool, but he would tell us what to do.’

At that very moment Blindweed was being escorted towards the Home Oak. Five Draila had been sent to fetch the storyteller and bring him before the Lord of Herds. The old stag tossed his head and snorted angrily as the Draila pushed and prodded him up the hill and kept grumbling that he had never been treated so badly in his life. By the time they reached the Home Oak Blindweed was seething with indignation. Sgorr was at the tree, standing beside Drail and ten stags who formed Drail’s inner bodyguard. Eloin was there too and she flashed the old deer a terrified look as he approached. He knew immediately that something was wrong.

‘Blindweed. It is good of you to come,’ said Drail benevolently. ‘It is so long since we have seen you at the Home Oak.’

Blindweed lowered his antlers.

‘The lord is kind,’ he answered coldly, ‘but I fear you have little need of my services.’

‘Not at all,’ said Sgorr. ’But we have been busy and you know how it is.’

Blindweed nodded slowly.

‘I know how it is. How may I be of service to the lord?’

‘Blindweed, Lord Drail finds he misses your stories and your wisdom,’ said Sgorr slyly, ‘and this evening we would listen to the Lore again.’

‘You surprise me,’ said Blindweed, looking nervously at Eloin. ’In the herd it is dangerous to speak of such things.’ Eloin’s eyes were fixed on Blindweed’s now.

‘My dear Blindweed. You must understand that for some of the deer it is better not to fill their heads with strange stories that frighten and confuse them. They just wouldn’t understand. But among deer like ourselves, it’s different. Now Drail would be entertained.’

‘Very well. A story of Starbuck, or of Herne, perhaps?’

‘Later. I myself am very fond of the fawn’s tales. But first we would hear the Prophecy.’

Eloin’s body flinched and she almost started, but Blindweed showed no emotion.

‘The Prophecy,’ he said blankly. ‘Why should Lord Drail want to hear that old thing? There are far better tales to while away an evening and much less silly ones at that. The first stone for instance, when Herne came down—’

‘Blindweed,’ said Sgorr less gently. ‘The Prophecy, if you please.’

Blindweed was desperately trying to think of some way out but it was obvious that he could not avoid reciting. So he began slowly, falteringly and as he spoke on the hill even

Sgorr shivered. But when he had finished Sgorr came forward and peered at him coldly.

‘My dear Blindweed. It was well spoken. But haven’t you missed some of it out?’

‘I may have done. It is very old and there are many verses.’

‘Indeed,’ said Sgorr. ‘But I distinctly remember a part about a fawn mark.’

Blindweed had indeed left out this verse but now he feared it would give too much away to hold back any longer. All he wanted to do was find out whether they had captured Rannoch already.

‘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.