Fire Bringer (46 page)

A strange look came into Birrmagnur’s eyes.

‘You know some of them still mutter about the Prophecy. They think you will free the Low Lands. They say you should fight Sgorr.’

‘Fighting,’ snorted Rannoch suddenly, and the passion in his eyes surprised even Birrmagnur. ’Fight Sgorr, fight Thistle. Is that all the Herla can think of?’

‘It’s probably because the stags are growing more restive with Anlach coming again.’

‘Anlach?’ said Rannoch with a faraway look, as though he was trying to remember something. It was already growing dark around them.

‘Yes, Rannoch. Don’t you feel it?’

‘Yes, I feel it,’ answered Rannoch quietly, ‘as much as Thistle or Tain or any of the others. But I hate it, Birrmagnur. It reminds me of Herne’s Herd.’

‘But Rannoch,’ said Birrmagnur, ‘don’t you want to be an Outrider? Don’t you want mates and calves of your own?’ Rannoch looked down sadly over the herd. He was thinking of Willow and he missed her desperately.

‘I don’t know, Birrmagnur,’ he said, shaking his antlers.

‘All I can think is that I don’t want to become like them, like Herne’s Herd. They worshipped violence. And you know, when Anlach comes it seems to do something to me. Sometimes I can’t understand the Lera any more.’

‘But isn’t Anlach natural?’

‘Birrmagnur,’ said Rannoch suddenly, ‘will you come with me? I want to show you something.’

Rannoch turned and led the reindeer over the brow of the hill. He ran straight through the long grass to a spot he had visited many times before. It was a patch of once muddy ground which had dried out with the summer, and now the circle of earth was cracked and parched. Birrmagnur pulled up with distaste. His nostrils were suddenly filled with a foul scent that made him start in disgust as he looked down.

There, in the centre of the earth, were two skeletons. The bones had been picked clean and had settled on the ground opposite each other. Birrmagnur gasped as he saw, in between the two opposing skulls, two pairs of antlers resting on the ground. They were still locked together.

‘It’s Skein and Tannar,’ said Rannoch sadly. ‘Do you remember them from the Slave Herd? It happened last year during the rut. They must have locked antlers and not been able to free themselves. They starved to death.’

‘Hoern’s breath,’ said the reindeer, shaking his head sadly.

‘Herne!’ snorted Rannoch.’Is this really Herne’s way, Birrmagnur? Is this what He asks of us? All this fighting. There is so much pain and violence in the world. I think that if Herne exists He must be terribly cruel. Crueller than Sgorr, crueller even than man.’

The reindeer was silent for a while. He was deeply moved.

‘I’m sorry, Rannoch,’ he said at last. ‘I wish I could help you.’

The two friends fell silent as they walked back towards the herd. The evening was bright with a half moon rising and they were coming down the eastern slopes when they saw Bankfoot running towards them. He looked frantic.

‘Rannoch, Birrmagnur, thank Herne I’ve found you. You’ve got to come quickly.’

‘What is it, Bankfoot?’ said Birrmagnur.

‘H-h-herla,’ said Bankfoot in his distress, for the Outrider had almost lost his stutter and it only came back when he got very excited. ‘All stags. There must be over forty of them coming up the valley.’

‘More High Land incomers?’ said Rannoch.

‘No, Rannoch. They’re from the south.’

‘Sgorrla,’ gasped Rannoch, and though he had just been talking to Birrmagnur of his hatred of fighting and violence, the instincts of the Outrider drove him and his two friends straight towards them.

When they reached the newcomers they were reassured, though, for the stags had bunched together in the middle of the herd and they seemed to be talking calmly enough to the deer who had gathered round them. Willow and Peppa were there and Bracken too. Tain was running down from the hill and Rannoch slowed as he caught sight of Thistle standing before the newcomers.

‘Are you with the Sgorrla?’ he heard one of the deer shouting to the stags.

‘No,’ answered a voice that sounded caught with pain and exhaustion. ‘We are Outriders. The last of the Outriders in the Low Lands.’

His words echoed round the herd.

As Rannoch came among the stags he saw in the darkness that they had been fighting. Some of them had wounds on their flanks and haunches and others had broken antlers. Their fur was thick with sweat and matted blood.

‘It is two moons since they came on us,’ the exhausted voice went on, ‘Sgorr and his minions. There were hundreds of them. We managed to escape through the trees but they have taken our hinds and fawns. Colquhar is dead. The last vestige of freedom has vanished from the Low Lands.’

Now Rannoch began to recognize some of the stags from the Herd above the Loch and as he drew near the speaker he spotted Braan. Braan was nearly ten now and Rannoch could see from his heavy rump how much he had aged, but his antlers were still strong and he had the same pride about him.

‘What can we do?’ Rannoch heard Willow saying suddenly.

‘Nothing for the moment. Sgorr has united all the herds. There were even roe and fallow deer among them. But we have come to seek your help.’

‘Our help?’

‘Yes. We are looking for the Marked One, the fawn that came amongst us. They say He never died but came into the High Land to free the Herla here. News of Him has spread across the south. They say He can heal and talk to the Lera. It’s the Prophecy.’

The whole herd was listening intently.

‘No, Braan,’ said Rannoch suddenly, ‘it is not the Prophecy.’

‘Rannoch,’ cried Braan delightedly, ‘then you are alive.’

The wounded Outriders were looking at the white oak leaf.

‘Yes, I’m alive.’

‘Then you must help us. We’ll rest and then lead the Outriders south.’

‘What for?’ said Rannoch quietly.

‘What do you mean what for? To fight Sgorr, of course.’

‘Fighting,’ said Rannoch, shaking his head, ‘always fighting. How many of you are there, Braan?’

‘Forty-eight of us survived the battle.’

‘Which with our Outriders – some of whose antlers are still as weak as rotten wood – makes perhaps two hundred stags. How many stags would you say Sgorr has?’

Braan paused. He could see what Rannoch was hinting at.

‘I don’t know,’ he said quietly, hanging his antlers. ‘He has brought all the herds together and the roe deer too.’

‘Perhaps two or three thousand Herla – or maybe more?’ Braan nodded.

‘And about eight or nine hundred stags,’ said Rannoch.

‘Well trained, used to fighting.’

The Outriders began to murmur discontentedly.

‘But that doesn’t matter,’ cried Braan, suddenly brightening. ’The Prophecy. We’ll have Herne on our side. We’ll have you.’

The herd around them were beginning to nod excitedly.

‘No, Braan,’ cried Rannoch, ‘you will not have me. Herla are not meant to fight. I was not born to fulfil some silly prophecy. I will stay here with my mother and teach the Herla a different way.’

‘But the Outriders?’ said Braan.

‘You are welcome to stay with us,’ said Rannoch simply, ‘and we will tend to your wounds.’

‘Tend to our wounds?’ cried Braan in disgust. ‘Hide here like old hinds while Sgorr enslaves the Herla and drives out the spirit of Herne? That’s not the Outriders’ way.’

‘Have you forgotten,’ said Rannoch coldly, ‘that Colquhar served Sgorr? That when it suited your purpose your brave Outriders handed over Willow and my mother and my friends to the mercy of the Sgorrla? Shira and the others are still with him. If I could help you – and I can’t – don’t you think they’d be the first to suffer?’

‘It lives in our memory, to the undying shame of every Outrider above the Loch,’ said Braan bitterly. ‘We betrayed you. But we were forced to. Colquhar convinced us that it was the only way that he could preserve the existence of the Outriders in the Low Lands. That is all he really lived for. But although he pretended to serve Sgorr, somewhere his heart was true. And he made a brave death.’

‘I am glad to hear it,’ said Rannoch with little feeling.

‘Did Tharn make a brave death too?’ Braan hung his head again.

‘So you won’t help us,’ he whispered.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Rannoch, and this time he meant it.

‘Then we are lost.’

‘No,’ cried a voice angrily, ‘if Rannoch won’t help you, I will.’

Thistle came running through the centre of the stags and his eyes were blazing at Rannoch.

‘You?’ said Braan, looking up in surprise.

As Thistle drew up he turned his antlers to acknowledge Willow.

‘If I can,’ he said.

‘But will the herd follow you?’ asked Braan. ’You are not the lord.’

‘Our herd has no lord,’ said Thistle with disgust, addressing all the deer, ‘for it seems that it is no longer blood that flows through the veins of our Outriders but pond water.’

‘Has no lord?’ said Braan. ’But Rannoch—’

‘Rannoch does not lead us any more,’ said Thistle coldly.

‘He prefers being the Lord of the Lera to being a real Herla.’

‘Thistle,’ said Rannoch quietly, ‘you don’t know what you are saying. You can’t defeat Sgorr. He’s too powerful. Would you lead the herd to certain death beyond the Great Mountain?’

‘I would lead those who would follow to fight and perhaps die with honour,’ cried Thistle, ‘like Outriders. You’ll come with me, won’t you, Haarg? And you, Bankfoot and Tain?’

The two friends looked down in embarrassment.

‘And Birrmagnur,’ said Thistle, ‘you’ll help us, won’t you?’ The reindeer said nothing.

‘If this is your plan,’ said Rannoch calmly, ‘I oppose it.’

‘At last,’ cried Thistle, swinging round suddenly towards Rannoch. ’Then you’ll fight me, Rannoch. To see who leads the herd? To see if Braan shall have our aid?’

Thistle bellowed. He ran straight up to Rannoch and as they came parallel the two deer seemed to be testing each other for just a moment, locked in an invisible conflict. Their antlers were of the same size and the battle would have been well matched. But Rannoch did nothing.

‘So you won’t fight me then?’ said Thistle at last. Rannoch hesitated. He was fighting with himself now.

‘No, I won’t fight you,’ he answered quietly, and he turned away.

‘But Rannoch,’ cried Willow.

Rannoch gave Willow a pained look. He glanced at Bankfoot and Tain and at his frightened mother standing next to the reindeer. The whole herd was hanging on his words now as he stood among his friends and the wounded Outriders.

‘Braan, I will be on the hill,’ he said quietly, ‘if you need me to help those wounds heal.’

But Braan didn’t answer. He looked coldly back at the stag. Rannoch paused. He felt hundreds of expectant eyes boring into him, trained on the fawn mark.

‘What is it you want of me?’ he cried with sudden anguish. Then Rannoch began to run, through the grass, up the hill.

As he went two Herla were entering the valley and they stopped apprehensively as they saw the herd gathered so closely together in the looming shadows. One was a stag and the other was a hind with a wound on her leg. They did not notice a third stag coming in from the south. His face was young and his eyes unusually bright and, unlike his kind, his forehead was unmarked.

20 The Island

‘Even the wisest man grows tense With some sort of violence Before he can accomplish fate, Know his work or choose his mate. W. B. Yeats, ‘Under Ben Bulben’

‘Let this cup pass from me.’ Matthew 26, 39

There was nothing that either Thistle or Braan could attempt until the Outriders’ wounds were healed. Besides, they really had no idea what they were going to do against the might of Sgorr’s Herla. However, in the suns that followed the confrontation with Rannoch, many in the herd began to look on Thistle with a new respect, and although nothing had really been settled, some even began to talk of him as the lord. Many a Larn in the coming days would find him and Braan standing apart from the rest of the herd, discussing the fate of the deer in the Low Lands.

Bankfoot and Tain looked on this with growing distress, for their loyalties had been torn in two. While their first loyalty was to Rannoch, they both felt that they had some duty to help Braan and the Outriders. Neither of them really acknowledged Thistle as Lord of the Herd, but they admired him for his courage and they were both desperately proud of their own positions as Outrider captains.

Birrmagnur found himself in an even more difficult position. He felt deeply for Braan and the others and what he had heard of Sgorr made the reindeer bitterly angry. But he was older and more circumspect than the rest and though he was as bemused as any about the Prophecy, he realized that Rannoch had been right about the impossible odds that faced them if they ventured south. He would argue this point forcefully and ask the deer why they couldn’t be happy living in the protection of the Great Mountain, free from Sgorr, or even moving deeper into the High Land.

Of all the friends, though, Willow was the most badly affected. She loved Rannoch deeply but she couldn’t fathom what had come over him now, and his denial of Anlach had already gravely disappointed her. She knew he was in pain but this sudden refusal to help the Outriders was the worst of all. As the suns passed Willow kept watching Thistle.

It was not that the whole herd was of one mind about what to do. Many of the hinds and even a sizeable number of the stags agreed with Rannoch and could see no hope of confronting Sgorr. Since the Slave Herds had been dissolved, they had only just begun to grow comfortable with their lives as free Herla, and many could see no reason to endanger that. The herd was split and while the Outriders, new and old, ranged the hills, others would look up to Rannoch talking to the Lera and tending to the sick, and nod to themselves.

There were many to attend to also after the battle above the loch. The Outriders’ wounds were deep and many had grown infected. Rannoch set those deer who supported him to collecting leaves and making poultices to help their wounds heal. At first the Outriders resisted, but Rannoch’s touch was so gentle and their needs so great, that they grudgingly submitted to his aid and were soon grateful for it. Not one who came from the south died of his wounds.