By daylight, the stag, with an effort of will, appeared to the knight. The knight's enthusiasm was gratifying, if anything could please in Darken Wood. The knight even mentioned Huma's having followed the stag. The stag moved forward on Prayer's Eye Peak, knowing the knight and his companions would follow. If it was his destiny to lead, it was others' to follow him.
But they did not follow immediately. With one ear he heard the company debating behind him. The half-elf said, 'Though I have not seen the white stag myself, I have been with one who has and I have followed it, as in the story the old man told at the Inn of the Last Home.'
The stag, turning to look, saw the half-elf fingering a ring of twisted ivy leaves, presumably because it reminded him of his former companion who had seen the stag. Neither half-elf nor ring brought any memory to the stag.
The mage among them, a robed figure with hourglass eyes, spoke more of the story they had heard, apparently a few nights ago, at an inn. An old man had told how Huma, lost in a forest, prayed to Paladine. A white stag had appeared and led him home. 'That I remember,' the stag thought, 'but I had thought no other living being did. Whatever man they met was old indeed, though if he were older, he would remember it as song, not story.' A pang of regret for simpler days and easier faith swept over the stag, much as it sweeps over old men for times gone by. He shook his rack of antlers fiercely and kept listening.
The dwarf with the company snorted, almost like an animal himself. 'You believe old stories? Here's another, then: Once there was a stag who caused Shadow Wood to turn to Darken Wood.'
Another companion squatted on the trail, his ears pricked forward. 'Nothing like a good story. When was this, Flint?'
The dwarf scowled at the other — a kender, the stag remembered now. It had been long since he had seen one. The dwarf went on, 'Before the Cataclysm. And it's not a good story, not any way at all. The stag chose to betray the Forestmaster — the ruler of this wood, whoever that is. So he — »
'Why?' the kender interrupted. The stag put his ears forward, straining to hear.
The dwarf admitted, 'I don't know why.' The stag relaxed. 'But he wanted to. So he — »
'It doesn't make sense if we don't know why.' The kender clearly enjoyed interrupting.
'Nothing makes sense to you; let me go on. The stag went to the king who was pledged to guard the wood — »
'Guard it against what?'
The dwarf reached for the kender. 'I'll tie back those foolish ears and make you listen — »
The half-elf stepped between them. 'Let him be, Flint. Tas, let Flint tell his story.'
'That's better.' The dwarf took a deep breath, as much to calm himself as to launch the tale. 'Why this stag wanted to betray the Forestmaster, whatever a Forestmaster is, I don't know. It's an old story, and parts of it are all muddled by now. The point is, he did betray the Forestmaster, back in the days when Darken Wood was only Shadow Wood.'
'That's not the point at all,' the stag murmured, knowing he could not be heard. 'I've always thought the why of it more important than the sorrows that followed. Still, I am glad that the why is forgotten.'
The dwarf went on: 'There was a human king in the woods in those days, as well as living soldiers who guarded the woods. They were pledged to hold the borders against invaders, or robbers, but especially against the Dark Army.'
'Who?' That was all that the kender said. Flint swallowed his annoyance. 'The Dark Army. An army of the dead raised by dark clerics. In exchange for the dead helping the clerics take the wood from the Forestmaster and make it a fit place for the Queen of Darkness.'
All, including the stag, shivered.
'The clerics would cast a spell that made the forest a place where the dead would live again. That's why the Forestmaster set guards on the border, to keep the wood free of evil — but mostly to ward off the Dark Army.'
'But the guards failed,' the half-elf said softly. Flint snorted again. 'Failed? Failed? They broke their vows. The stag offered the king and his men a chance to hunt in the woods — the story's messy there;
I can't tell whether they hunted the stag or something else
and the king leaped at it. He was rebellious, or
untrustworthy, or wanted some time away from his job. That's another missing detail. Anyway, the king and his men left their posts at the edge of Shadow Wood, for only one day.'
'But that was time enough.' The knight who had first seen the stag sounded grim. Clearly, the stag thought, this one took oaths seriously. The stag shifted from hoof to hoof uncomfortably.
The dwarf went on, 'Time enough and more. While King Whoever and his oath-breaking guards hunted, the clerics led the dead into Shadow Wood. Once inside, the dead formed a circle, and inside it the dark clerics did something, it has a name like the Song of Dead Land or the Chant — »
The hooded mage in the company said abruptly, 'The Curse of Carrion Land. If it is spoken over a place, all shadows deepen into darkness, and all the buried dead rise again.' He smiled at his own knowledge. 'It's quite easy to do, once you are inside the borders of a land.'
After an uncomfortable silence, Flint said, 'Right. And then the dead hunted down the traitor king and his men as if they were animals, and killed them and buried them.
'But the dark clerics had made a mistake. The Dark Army hadn't been buried in Shadow Wood, which was now Darken Wood, but the traitor king and his men had been. So at sunset of the first day, the Dark Army died again, this time for good. And that night the buried king and his men rose again and chased the clerics out.' Flint looked around uneasily. 'But the Curse of Carrion Land stayed. That's why Darken Wood is evil. And every night, the traitor king and his men go hunting, with no rest for them until they redeem their pledge somehow.'
The kender sighed loudly in the silence, making the company jump. 'But what about the stag? And doesn't the story have an end?'
Forget the stag, the listening animal thought. And no: there is no end. There will never be an end.
'The stag. Right.' The dwarf thought a moment. 'There was something — »
The listening stag was relieved when the dwarf admitted, 'I don't know exactly what happened to the stag. He died, too, and he had some kind of punishment for his betrayal. He and the king are tied together, but the story is all twisted up by now; in some versions the king and his men hunt the stag, in some they hunt a unicorn, and in some they hunt the Forest-master, whatever the Forestmaster is. But I know that the stag is like the king; he's punished every night for being a traitor. He has to repeat the betrayal over and over, and he and the king can break out of it only if they fulfill their vows of service and loyalty to the Forestmaster. Only they can't. Somebody else is pledged to guard Darken Wood now, and the story says that the stag is too proud or angry or something to renew his vow of service. So there isn't an end. Yet,' he finished uncertainly.
'Not a good story,' the kender said firmly. 'I've heard better.'
'So have I,' Flint said. 'The point is, which kind of stag are we following? The one Huma saw, or the traitor in Darken Wood?'
The stag barely listened to the argument. 'Perhaps,' he said to himself, 'they are the same stag, servant and betrayer. Have any of these fools considered that?' He was relieved when the company, done debating his past and intentions, chose to follow him. He led silently, thoughtfully.
By night he watched the company discuss with the king of the dead. 'They are greatly afraid,' the stag observed. 'That must please the very-late King Peris no end.'
Later still, the stag watched them mount on centaurs, who were the Forestmaster's pledged guards, and ride to the Central Glade. Two centaurs remained behind, guarding the way. The stag, freed of his duties as guide, was about to follow the riding company when he heard one of the sentries sing, in a rough and uncouth voice:
There was a proud and noble stag,
In shadow wood was born,
And there he grew,
And there he met and loved a unicorn.
The stag froze, listening.
