Fairytale
It was a cold december evening. The wind was howling around the huts, but inside the mill it was warm and cosy. There was a fire burning in the hearth. A rushlight on the table gave more smoke than light.
Matthew the miller sat on a bench in front of the hearth, carving a new tooth for one of the rack-wheels at the mill. At his feet sat his ten year old foster son Robin, carving a wooden horse for his little foster brother Much.
The miller's wife, Susannah, sat at the table mending a rip in her son's cloak. She often said that Much tore his things faster than she could mend them. Much himself sat in the straw that covered the clay floor, playing with a wooden knight Robin had made for him.
Susannah looked up from her work and smiled. How very much alike her husband and their foster son were. Even though Matthew wasn't Robins father they bowed their dark heads over their work in exactly the same way. Robin could be quick-tempered just like Matthew, and just like Matthew Robin showed unending patience with Much who was… well, a bit slow sometimes.
Now Robin lifted his head, looking at Matthew with those intensive forest-green eyes.
„Tell us a story!" he asked.
Much beamed. „Yes, a story!"
Matthew smiled, sliding down on the ground to his sons, sitting down comfortably, crossing his legs.
„What shall I tell you about?" he asked, lifting Much up to sit him on his lap.
„Something about the forest!" Robin replied immediately. He could never hear enough stories about Sherwood.
„But nothing with devils or demons," said Much timidly.
„You coward," Robin teased Much, something Matthew gave him a hard look for.
„Be patient with your brother," he said, „he's only five."
Matthew asked Robin to put some more wood on the fire. It gave him time to think.
„Something about the forest, but without demons and not too scary… But a little spooky is fine, isn't it?" he said gently, smiling at his son. Much looked at him wide-eyed and nodded.
„I'll tell you about Herne," the miller said.
Robin looked up, his eyes glowing in the half light. „Herne!"
Susannah was worried. „Matthew, aren't they too young for that?"
Matthew dismissed it with a smile. „It's alright."
He began: „Herne is the lord of the trees, the protector of Sherwood forest. Nobody knows how old he is or how long he has been around. As long as anyone can remember the people of Sherwood have worshipped Herne. He watches over us. He judges those who do the forest and the people wrong. He is kind like the forest is can't starve in the forest; it provides you with everything you need.
But Herne can also be cruel.
In nights like this he is the lord of the Wild Hunt. That's why he is called Herne the Hunter. Then he rides through the forest howling like a stormwind. In his lead run giant ghost hounds, wild women, ghostly hunters and other lost souls.
When the Wild Hunt is on the loose you better stay inside and lock your door. Woe to the one that's outside in such a night. These miserable ones are drawn into the Hunt and have to take part or, even worse, they are the game that's being hunted.
Sometimes Herne releases his victims, when the morning comes. Then these poor people are either so exhausted that they can't move a finger for days or they've gone insane from all they've encountered during the Hunt."
Much asked timidly: „But that only happens to bad people, doesn't it?"
His father stroke his hair and said: „Bad ones… and careless ones. That's why we see to that you are home in the evenings. Especially on nights like this it is smarter to close the door from the inside and not wander around in the forest."
He smiled gently at Robin, knowing that his foster son was always drawn to the forest.
Robin furrowed his brow.
„I don't think Herne would harm me," he said.
Susannah looked at her husband, clearly afraid for her son. Matthew gave Robin a long thoughtful glance. „Maybe not. But the time for trying it out hasn't yet come."
Much looked from one to the other without really understanding. Finally the silence got too much for him. He tucked at his fathers beard.
„Tell on!"
Gently Matthew freed his beard from the little ones fingers.
„It is said that you could deliberately call the Wild Hunt, but I don't know anyone who has ever tried. If Herne appears is his own choice. The Horned One is untamed and succumbs to no man."
Much looked at his father wide-eyed.
„What means 'the Horned One'?" he whispered.
Robin said: „Well, that's easy. Stags Horns are growing out of his head!"
Muchs eyes grew wider still. He clung to his father with all of his strength.
Susannah scolded: „That's enough! Or the little one won't be able to sleep."
Matthew calmed his wife. „Just a bit more."
He took Much firmly in his arms, then continued with the story.
„The horns are sign of his bond with the forest, his crown. He is the lord of all that lives in it, plant, animal, man. Just think about how funny he would look if he had a boars snout in the face."
Much started to laugh, completely forgetting about his fright. Robin grinned and even Susannah smiled. The laughter grew even louder when Matthew started grunting like a pig.
When they had calmed down again he said: „As long as his people stick to the rules and keep the proper respect Herne is kind. Then he can well drive a deer in front of a hungry man's arrow or give firewood to a poor woman."
„Then why doesn't he do something against the normans? Against the sheriff and the king?"asked Robin thoughtfully.
Matthew considered for a moment how to make a child understand.
„He's biding his time. Herne is a spirit. A ruler, not a fighter. They say, one day Herne will choose a warrior to be his son and do his bidding. That man will be called 'The Hooded Man'. Then the high lords in their castles will tremble before the power of the forest an the man incorporating that power."
Exitedly Robin said: „Hernes son!"
Nobody said a word. The silence echoed through the room.
Finally Susannah said with pretended happiness: „It's about time for you to go to bed. It's already late!"
Reluctantly the boys got up. They undressed until all they wore were their long undergowns. Then they gathered around the bucket of water and scrubbed themselves. After that, the whole family knelt and said their evening prayer as they did every evening. Finally, Robin and Much laid down on the pallet of straw that they shared next to the hearth. Susannah tucked them in, kissed them on the forehead and wished them a good night. Everything was as it always was but then Robin surprisingly told his foster mother: „Herne protect you, Susannah."
Susannah started, exchanged a glance with Matthew, who was busy putting some more wood on the hearth so that it was warm enough for his sons, and smiled at her foster son lovingly.
„Herne protect you, Robin. Both of you."
She stroked Robins cheek and went back to the table where there was still needlework waiting for her.
Matthew had already started his carving again. They would stay awake for some more time before they would go to bed in the adjacent room.
It was cosy on the pallet next to the hearth underneath the thick blankets with Muchs little form next to him. Robin closed his eyes and fell asleep.
X X X
In the middle of the night Much woke up. The fire had burnt down, it was dark in the room. Something felt wrong – Robin wasn't there!
Much got frightened. Carefully he turned around. Robin was at the window. He had opened the shutter and stared out into the night.
„What are you doing?" whispered Much.
Without turning his eyes away from the window Robin raised a hand towards his little brother to silence him.
„What's there?" Much asked louder. Still without looking at him Robin snarled: „Shut up!"
„When you look out of the window at night the demons come and get you!" said Much whiningly.
Robin knew that if he didn't calm Much down he would start to cry waking everybody up. So he turned around towards the little boy and said calmly: „That's rubbish. Come here and I'll show you what's outside."
„Will you stay with me?" Much asked snivelling a little.
„Yes."
„And there are really no demons out there?"
„No."
„Don't you want to come back to bed?"
Robin sighed. „No. There are no demons. Come on."
Reluctantly Much got up, not daring to fully leave the protection of his blanket. Pulling the blanket behind him he went over to Robin. Being still too small to be able to look out of the window he climbed onto the bench running along the wall.
Before he dared to look out of the window he groped with his little boys hand for Robins stronger hand.
Together the boys looked out of the window.
„Quiet now," Robin said.
Outside, the full moon shone. The wind drew ragged clouds across the sky. The forest's edge about a hundred yards away stood black behind the lighter fields.
About half way between the mill and the forest stood a mighty stag staring at the mill without looking away once.
„He's been there all the time looking at me," whispered Robin.
Shyly Much whispered back: „How do you know he's looking at you?"
„Don't know. I just feel it."
Much's eyes widened when a thought came to his mind: „Is that Herne?"
Thoughtfully Robin said: „Perhaps."
Together the boys watched as the animal bowed it's head once as if nodding at them, turned around and vanished slowly into the forest. They waited for a while longer but the stag didn't return.
Finally Much started whinig that he was cold. So Robin closed the shutter while Much went back to their pallet. Then Robin followed, made sure that Much was tucked in well and lay down, too.
Soon both boys were fast asleep.
