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In Service to Lord Herne

Chapter One

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

20thOctober, 2021

All Rights Reserved.

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King Ulfred of the English Isles, sat astride a massive stone throne. Beautiful robes covered his grey furred body as he glared down balefully at the map that had been spread on the expansive table before him. In disgust, he growled and his paw slapped down on the armrest of his throne as he snarled at the Knight Commander, Startled, the Commander paused as he was moving wooden figurines on the map.

"HOW are we losing territory? Why?" King Ulfred raged as he gestured at the map. "To these godless heathens at that!"

All he knew, was the battles to the north of his beloved England were in disarray.

"Sire those highlanders fight with such a ferocity and, forgive me my lord, but they are like rabid beasts! Even the women of their kind are just as violent and bloodthirsty as the men!"

A terrified goat trotted in, then knelt one on knee and held up a sealed parchment letter. Taking it from the page, the Commander broke the seal and unrolled it before he read its contents and his ears flattened.

"What news do you bring me?" Snarled the enraged King as he stood up. "No, I don't want to know. I want the heads of those highlanders, you hear me? I want their heads on pikes NOW!"

"My lord... our men are doing their best! There are logistical problems, raids on supply caravans and we're losing soldiers faster than we can..."

"ENOUGH!" Snarled the King, as he leapt down from the dais and his paw flashed out and swept the pieces from the map. "I do not want excuses and the whining of pups! Order our men to find these...plague ridden, mangy, unruly, vile - "

His Knight Commander stoically bore the brunt of the King's rage as he stared down at the map.

Composing himself, the King shuddered and turned about as he paced back and forth.

"Do you know the problem with the Scottish Highlands?"

"I would not dare to presume to know the mind of my Lord," Came the reply from the Commander.

"The problem with Scotland - is there's there's too many red deer... Their kind are a pox upon the land! Savage, pagan worshipping, uncivilised... even barbarians are more enlightened than they!"

Deciding silence was better than speaking, the Commander kept his Vulpine muzzle shut, his brush of a tail still and limp behind him.

"Why? Why will they not accept the word of the one true God and bend the knee? If they will not capitulate and surrender, then do what you must - whatever is necessary Commander. Hunt them, murder them, I care not what or how you will carry out my will. Break them - grind them into the ground! I demand they give themselves willingly to me - if they do not... then bring me their heads."

With a crisp formality, the Commander snapped to attention and slapped his armoured chest with a paw and nodded.

"Yes my lord, it will be done."

As he turned to leave, the Wolf snarled behind him.

"Good, see to it Commander, or deliver your own head..."

*

Far in the northern highlands of Scotland, had an event unlike any other come to be. Tribes of the Highlander's had gathered for the holiest of their pagan festivals. Fights and disagreements amongst the herd clans were set aside. They gathered in untold numbers, brought to this place which had stood since time beyond even the Elder's memory.

Here, would they feast, form alliances, trade and marriage proposals presented. A small herd of the red's stood apart from the others. These young bachelors and maidens were to be presented before the High Priestess and High Priest. If they were found worthy, they would be initiated into the sacred priesthood.

Amongst them, stood a beautiful red deer maiden - who towered above both the buck's and the doe's alike. She stood nearly six and a half feet tall on her black cloven hooves. She was a known bard in her own right at just eighteen winters old, fleet of hoof, strong of will and sharper than any claymore in mind.

Dressed in a rough spun white robe that covered her from shoulder to ankle, she stood patiently with the other potential initiates. Her eyes missed nothing, dismissed everything, as one leaf like ear flicked and twitched.

Her name was Cara MacKie, of the MacKie clan. Whilst their's wasn't the largest, most powerful or influential - she was still treated with respect and given free passage, food and lodging as a bard. Wherever she travelled, she knew she would find warmth, food and shelter from the inclement weather.

Many had sought to woo this enigmatic young doe - many had failed. She remained aloof from their advances. More than than one bachelor or even an adult, had been driven to the ground by her strength. To add insult to injury, she would kick them hard enough in the rump with a cloven hoof to leave a mark that wouldn't fade for weeks.

To look upon her, one would not know she was possessed of an almost super-natural strength. For she was not muscular, if anything, other than her abnormal height - she was exactly how a doe of the Highlanders should appear.

As the bells rang out, her ears pricked forwards attentively and the riotous voices of the gathered clans slowly quietened.

It was time...

*

An Elder, ancient and bent, hobbled with the assistance of a beech staff that was twisted and gnarled almost as much as she herself was. Venerated as the High Priestess, a role she had fulfilled for nearly seventy winters.

Lined up, then ordered to kneel down, the potential initiates done as instructed. Slowly, the Elder moved, placing a withered paw over the head of each one in turn. Some she would smile and touch their heads, others would be passed over.

Finally, she come to Cara and to everyone's surprise, the old crone slowly got to one knee and bowed before her - head lowered.

This had never happened before!

"Lady, I have not words for you to do this justice, Lord Herne speaks through me, as he wills. Long have we worshipped him, the Great Hunter, the protector of our clans and our ways. It is his wish, you take up my mantle, my staff and my ways. For such is spoken, such mote it be! My time draws to a close lady, I have served the clans well and with honour. Now, this being my last solstice, shall I impart my own blessing upon your furred head."

With a trembling paw, the Elder lifted up Cara's muzzle and lightly kissed her thrice. On the forehead, nose and lips.

"Such is the will of Lord Herne, who claims this doe as his own and his rightful High Priestess!"

"SO MOTE IT BE!" Came the voices of the entire clans who had gathered.

Cara was stunned, speechless even. She had thought herself worthy, yes, of joining the Priesthood, serving as a Druidess? Maybe. Yet this - this honour and privilege stood her apart from anything even her wild imagination had been able to conjure.

"Come, Lady..." Spoke the crone, as she held out her withered paw, and Cara gently placed her own in it and helped the old one to stand. "Lord Herne will wish to bless you in his own...way."

Bowing her head in acquiesce, Cara felt herself be lead away as the rest of the Clan's resumed drinking and celebrating.

*

Led far from the Clan meeting place, the Elder tottered along on her hooves, guiding the confused and bewildered Cara, At last, they came to the Old One's home - a crude cottage with a thatched roof.

"Come, daughter of Herne, there is must we must prepare together, before you are accepted!"

Cara ducked her head as she followed the Elder into the cottage.

Inside, the Elder began gathering up old clay pots and bowls, giving them to Cara who cradled them gently in her arms like she would a fawn.

"Long have I watched and waited, every spring equinox, am I called to cull the weak, the unworthy, the self-serving..."

Cara froze, her ears flattening and eyes widening. As if sensing the young doe's distress, the Elder shook her head sadly.

"No, child - put aside that which you imagine to be true. You know nothing on the ways in which you will be taught. Those Lord Herne felt unworthy? They offer themselves willingly! Their sacrifice shall bring forth the Great Hunter's blessing for the year to come."

"I - " Cara began.

"Shush, young one. I know you are scared and confused. All will be revealed. It has been our way for time immemorial, and so it shall be until we are but dust. They know their sacrifice is necessary and they offer themselves freely and without fear. Now, come!"

*

Cara knelt, naked as the day she'd been fawned, in the circle that had been cast. Watchtowers called and present, the Goddess and God invoked and their blessing granted. Cara meditated, facing the altar, her paws clasped in her lap and head downcast.

Child, daughter of Herne, blessed be and welcome...

Cara's eyes opened as her ears flicked back. Where did that voice come from? Dominant, masculine, controlling yet...she sensed great wisdom and compassion within it.

Arise, daughter, turn about and stand as my equal!

Cara carefully got to her cloven hooves and turned about. She cared not one wit about her nakedness, to her, her fur covered her, and that was sufficiently.

She saw the beautiful cloven hooves - all four of them, that stood upon the ground. Slowly, she lifted her head, taking in the pure snow colour of the fur that ran up the shins, the knees... Instead of a reddish/brown mane, this Stag, and he _was_a stag - his mane was white with silver tips. A garland of vines hung midway down his chest and over one shoulder. They entwined around the back of his head and up over and around the twelve silvery tipped tines of his antlers. His black nose was as dark as coal yet those eyes - his eyes were like twin pools of the darkest night the long leaf like ears twitching.

Daughter, you stand before me now, I bid you thrice welcome and be at peace within my circle.

Cara sank to one knee, head bowed as she looked down at the ground.

"My Lord, I am unworthy to be within your presence! I am but a humble Doe, born unto..."

Arise young one. You have no need to bow before me. I will not strike you down for daring to look upon me. For such is not our way. We are equal, one and the same, here within this circle. Our ways are not the ways of the others. We stand as one with our worshippers - equal and together. I do not demand your obedience, your adoration and your grovelling before my graven image!"

Fearfully, Cara rose and dared to look at the chest of the Great Elk who stood before her.

Have you heard nothing of which I have spoken young one? Look upon me now, not as your God, but as your equal.

Cara raised her eyes to look into those of Lord Herne. A smile spread across his muzzle and he tilted his head, giving her a courteous bow.

"My Lord, I am... Why did you choose me? I am - "

I know your past, young one, I know your now, and I know your future. Your past is no more, your future? Uncertain. Only your now exists. In this circle, brought about by will and magicks, we are a part of time, yet apart from time."

After a moment, that voice filled her mind again.

"You have been chosen by me, to become my newest High Priestess! I have longed for one for many of your years. For such a one just as you! Long has the current one done my bidding, and through her, have I brought blessings upon you and yours. I offer you a choice, young one. Will you give yourself, heart, soul and mind to me? Serve me and join with me? Or will you turn your back?"

Cara clasped her paws before her.

"My Lord, if such is your will, I shall -"

I demand nothing of you, for such is now the bond we would make. Equals as one within the circle, I give you your freedom to choose. Become that which I have sought? Or turn away and leave in perfect love and trust, knowing that no ill-will will befall you or yours?

Cara bit her lip and dropped to one knee before him, head bowed and paws splayed out to the sides.

"I, maiden that I am, born of Clan MacKie, do hereby and henceforth, surrender myself body, heart and mind. I do so freely, and of my own will, so mote it be. I shall devote my heart and mind to you, my Lord Herne, freely and of my own choice. I serve and will do so until the end of my days, I do hereby give myself unto you to do with me as you wish!"

So mote it be... Lord Herne's voice filled her with a warmth and love as he stepped forwards. Now, shall I claim you, doe. Your maidenhood, you have valiantly protected all your youthful life, shall be the first thing I will take from you. However, that which I will bestow upon you, shall make up for it! Lay yourself down and be at peace.

Cara laid down on her back, then frowned and lay on her side. Lord Herne watched her, curious and amused.

"My Lord, will it not...be difficult for you to claim me, as you say?" Cara's fearful voice reached him.

I shall have no difficulty young one, this is not my true form. It is but a - how may I find the words your mind will understand. I am not a physical creature. I am how your mind perceives my Godhood to be.

Cara stared, then reached out and stroked his mane. He smiled at her, indulging her in this simple pleasure. Her fingers dissapeared into his mane and touched the powerful neck.

"You are warm and physical, yet you claim you are not?"

Oh, I may be touched, caressed and petted, just like you - yet I have no blood within me, no heartbeat and no life, as you do. Yet I will be warm against you, and within you, fill you with my love, my warmth and my adoration for you and your sacrifice.

Cara trembled, as she looked up into his eyes, as he stepped closer and then over her. His powerful forelegs come down either side of her furred neck and his hind legs began to bend at the knees.

I will not mask this moment from you young one, for such is the way it has always been, and always shall. When a buck first claims a doe...

His slightly bulbous tip pressed against her labial folds and Cara gasped. Lord Herne sighed quietly, then he smiled and lowered his antlered head as he kissed her lightly on the forehead. Cara moaned as she felt her body instantly filled with love and warmth - especially from her groin.

A minor blessing, young one, to prepare you to receive that which is most precious.

Lord Herne nudged her onto her back and pressed a little harder against her with his impressive length. Cara's eyes widened as she felt the tip of the stag's member slip into her and he paused, gazing down at her.

I will not lie to you, the first time will hurt you. For this, I am sorry.

Cara blinked, then she felt him push further inside her warm, slick folds and come up against resistance. Wrapping her paws around the back of his neck, Cara buried her muzzle against the thick mane as he closed his eyes and sighed through his nostrils.

With one lunge, he claimed her maidenhood, his length buried inside her until his furred scrotum was pressed hard against her tail. He heard and felt the pain he brought her - it couldn't be helped - it was a necessary part of the ritual. Cara's scream was muffled against his mane, her tears soaking into the fur as he felt her buck against him at that moment stag claimed doe.

Thus it is done, as it has always been. For what I have done to you, I did not out of spite or malicious intent. Only one pure and innocent, can become my most prised and beloved. Now we are one, maiden no more are you, no more shall I call you young one.

He began a slow, methodical thrusting against her, taking from her the fright and the pain, filling her with warmth, love and compassion. Cara's eyes widened as she felt his firmness within her. She indeed, had been a maiden, now, she was truly a doe.

From this moment until your last, you shall be known as Lady Cara, High Priestess of Lord Herne the Hunter.

TO BE CONTINUED...