For the story so far click here

“The night before I died I was sitting at home by the fire, nursing a baby red grouse who had been orphaned by the Guns the week before.  My friends, Brighde the doe and her fawn, Beathag, were asleep on their blanket and Donnan, the collie, was taking a deep drink of water.  It was peaceful until Donnan suddenly stopped his lapping and turned to the door with ears pricked up, growling.  Then came three heavy thuds on the door.  I was afeared but Donnan was there.  I opened the door.”

“There stood the nasty gamekeeper and his henchmen, from the Viscount’s household.  I had had run-ins with him before when I put out his heather-fires or freed foxes and other souls from his evil traps and snares.  Donnan stood beside me, snarling at the keeper and the lads behind him who held shovels and sticks menacingly to intimidate me.  The keeper spoke low, his voice sounded cracked from too much smoke.  He told me that if I did not stay away from the grouse shoot on the morrow, and keep entirely away from the Viscount’s estate, it would not go well for me, or my friends, and with that he raised a stick as though it were a gun and aimed it at Donnan.  Donnan leapt at him and bit his leg hard.  The nasty man yelled and kicked my good boy off, shouting at me to “be warned!” as he limped away.”

To be continued …