Category: Irish Stories

Fintan Mac Bochra and the Hawk of Achill

Fintan Mac Bochra, the first man to set foot on Ireland, following his wife, Ceasair, lived a long life; over five thousand years. He changed into all the different animals of Ireland, and witnessed all the changes, all the new peoples who came to Ireland down through the centuries. He saw the defeat of the magical Tuatha de Danann at the hands of the Sons of Mil, and witnessed the great deeds of the Red Branch and the Fianna.

One day, Fintan met a hawk flying out from Achill Island. It was grey and old, and weak, and the two of them got to talking. The hawk of Achill commented on how withered and aged Fintan was looking. “It’s no wonder,” Fintan said, “in all my long life, I’ve had many children, but my best-beloved son was called Illan, and he died at Ros Greda the other day. My heart is so badly broken, I wonder that I’m still alive at all. I was only fifteen when I left my homeland, but I’ve lived five thousand years in Ireland.”

“I know,” said the Hawk of Achill, “I’ve lived exactly as long as you, but I kept to my beloved Achill Island, where game is plenty, and my own strength was always enough to keep me well fed. But tell me, since you are a great sage, all the wonders and evils you’ve seen in your lifetime.”

So Fintan told the Hawk his greatest griefs: the death of his son, Illan, and of his first wife, Cesaire of the white hands. Before that, the loss of his father-in-law, sweet-voiced Bith, the first death in Ireland, and of his brother-in-law, Ladra the pilot. He told the hawk how lonely he had been, at times, in the form of one animal or another, far removed from human warmth and company. “It seemed like the gods had given me a gift, to turn me into a salmon after Ceasair died,” Fintan said, “it was nothing I asked for, and for many years I swam the waterways of Ireland, and came to know them so well. But a terrible thing happened to me at the estuary of the river Earne; the cold that winter was the worst I’ve ever felt, and the waterfall froze solid, like shards of glass. I couldn’t stay under the water, salmon that I was, and I tried in vain to make the leap above the waterfall. And then a hawk swooped down at me out of the sky and plucked out one of my eyes, and that was one more grief on top of all that I’d suffered already.”

“That was me,” the Hawk said, ruffling its feathers, “I am the grey hawk of time, alone in the middle of Achill.”

“Well, if it was you who left me one-eyed, you should pay me compensation for its loss, as law and custom demand!” said Fintan.

“You won’t get anything from me,” the Hawk replied, “I’d eat the other eye out of your withered head, only it wouldn’t make more than a mouthful.”

“Well, you’re a harsh one,” Fintan said, “And I’ll prove that I’m the gentler one, so I’ll sit and talk with you another while.”

He told the Hawk how he’d lived as a salmon, an eagle, and a blue-eyed falcon before Lugh put him back into his own shape. Then, as a man again, he saw the king of Ireland, Slainge of the Fir Bolg, invent festivals. Fintan sided with the Fir Bolg and their king Eochaid at the First Battle of Moytura, where they fought the Tuatha de Danann for dominion of Ireland.

“Oh, I was there!” the Hawk interrupted, “I saw your twelve sons die. Out of respect to you, I took a hand, a foot, or an eye from each one of them. Oh, but I got a wonderful arm that day, too. I saw it beside me in the carnage, all dressed in silk, with red-gold rings on all the fingers, and beautiful nails. I almost felt sorry for the man who’d lost it, such a wonderful arm. It was huge, too, so that I could hardly carry it, but I managed to get it back to Achill Island to feed my family. It lasted us seven years! That arm belonged to Nuada, the king of the Tuatha de Danann, you know.”

“I know all about Nuada, and the trouble the Tuatha de Dannan had with his replacement, but did you ever hear of Trefuilngidh?” Fintan asked, “He was a traveller from the East, and he had a branch with fruits on it that could satisfy all the needs of humanity. If you ate from it looking North, you’d grow young again; south and you’d be cured of any painful disease. It had nuts, apples and sloes growing on it, all at once, and he gave me the seeds of it to plant all over Ireland. And that’s my story for you, O Hawk, in return for your visit.”

“Do you know,” said the Hawk, stretching its wings wearily, “That when fair Conor Mac Neasa was king in Ulster, my renown and my beauty were great. I was the king of the birds of Ireland. I remember seeing the hero Cuchulainn, and when he killed Cu Roi, I drank my fill of his blood. I got great meals from Cuchulainn and the warriors of the Red Branch, I used to eat whole bodies that fell to Conall Cearnach, and Fergus Mac Roigh gave me plenty of meat – the rivers would run red with blood, those were the days! Especially that cattle-raid, it left the plain of Muirthemhne full of bodies. And when they came for the hound of Ulster, Cuchulainn, I saw him dying against the pillar-stone, and I went to eat his eyes. But there was life in him yet, and when he felt my wings on his face, he put his javelin into my breast. I barely made it home alive, and though I drew out the shaft, the barb of the spear lodged inside me, and I’ve never been right since.”

The Hawk told Fintan all the heroic battles of its youth, and how it had faced down and killed the greatest heroes of the birds: the Crane of Moy Leana, the Eagle of Druim Brice, the two full-fat birds of Leithin, and the Blackfoot of Slieve Fuaid.

It reminisced about the days of the Tuatha de Danann, when it carried home the bodies of champions in its talons to feed its nestlings, and the age of Conn Cead Cathach, when it could lift a fawn, and the time of Cormac Mac Art, when it could carry a piglet. But by the time Niall of the Nine Hostages was king, the Hawk was maddened with its own weakness, and these days, it could barely lift a blackbird.

“And that’s why I’ve come to see you, Fintan,” the Hawk said, “To ask you to get God’s pardon for me, for tomorrow my long life will end, and I’m afraid what comes next won’t be nice for me.”

“Don’t be afraid,” Fintan told the Hawk, “You’ll be in the heaven of the clouds tomorrow. I’ll go to meet Death with you, little Hawk, and make sure you go to the heaven of the clouds, and not to any bad place.”

They talked long into the night, Fintan and the Hawk, and they told each other all the stories they could remember, good times and bad. And the next day, they died together.

Deirdre of the Sorrows

King Conchubar Mac Neasa came to power as a young man. He took the kingship from his foster-father Fergus Mac Roich, for a year, but he showed such wisdom during that year, that the people of Ulster decided he should stay on as king at the end of it. When he was newly come to his throne, he and his warriors of the Red Branch were invited to a feast in the house of Felimid the Harper. Felimid was in high spirits on this night, because his wife was about to give birth to their first child, and he was very excited. He asked if Conchubar’s druid, Cathbad, would make a prophecy to tell him what was in store for his baby. Cathbad placed his hands on the Felimid’s wife’s womb and said that the child was going to be a girl, and her name would be Deirdre, and that she would grow up to be the most beautiful woman who ever lived. “But,” he said, “An excess of anything is deadly, and she will be the cause of so much trouble that she will split the Red Branch in two.”

Now, when they heard this, the men of the Red Branch demanded that the child be killed there and then, before she had the chance to fulfill her destiny, but Conchubar wanted to have the reputation of a wise king, and a merciful king, so he stopped them. He said that he could not countenance the death of an infant in the house of its father, but that he would take the child when she was born. He would have her raised up in secret, and if she grew up to be as beautiful as Cathbad promised, then he would marry her himself, and put her in such a high position that no man would dare to look at her.

So he had his old nurse, Leabharcham, take the baby to a hidden valley and raise the child away from everyone else. From time to time, Conchubar would go and visit, to check how Deirdre was getting along. She grew up every bit as beautiful a child as had been prophesised, but she didn’t have much affection for Conchubar, though he was fair-haired and handsome, and had no shortage of female admirers in Emain Macha.

Leabharcham was very protective of Deirdre, and careful to make sure that none saw her. The only person, besides Conchubar, who she let into the valley was an old man, who would come by to help with the work. He was mute, and could tell no one about the girl in the valley and her enchanting beauty.

One day, in the early springtime, when the snow was still on the ground and Deirdre was almost a woman, Leabharcham had the old man slaughter a calf for her and Deirdre. The blood spilled out onto the snow, and a raven came down to eat the bloody snow. And when she saw this, Deirdre cried out, and went into a faint. Leabharcham thought she had been upset at the sight of the blood, but Deirdre told her nurse that she had fallen in love with these three colours, and she would only give her love to a man with hair as black as a raven, skin as white as snow, and cheeks as red as blood.

She asked Leabharcham if she knew of any man who looked like this, and Leabharcham, unable to deny Deirdre anything she asked for, told her of the youngest son of Uisneach, a warrior of the Red Branch, young and brave and beautiful. His name was Naoise, and he had the colouring Deirdre loved. He was inseparable from his brothers, Ainnle and Ardan, and he was the most handsome warrior of the Red Branch.

Deirdre pestered Leabharcham to find some way to let her see Naoise, but Leabharcham refused. She told Deirdre she’d see him soon enough, when Conchubar Mac Neasa married her and took her to Emain Macha with him. But Deirdre would not be put off. She begged Leabharcham to let her see Naoise, and eventually, Leabharcahm relented.

The next time she went to Emain Macha, she told the sons of Uisneach that there was wonderful hunting to be had in the valley where she lived, and to be sure and go there the next time they went hunting. She told Deirdre she could spy on them when they came, and make sure she was not seen.

But when the brothers came to the valley to hunt, Deirdre fell in love with Naoise the moment she saw him. She knew this was the only man for her. Before Leabharcham could stop her, she stepped out to greet him, and it was as if she turned from a girl into a woman at that moment. She smiled at Naoise, and flirted and cajoled him, and he fell completely in love with her the moment he saw her. She asked him if he would run away with her, but Naoise knew who she must be, and he knew that she belonged to Conchubar Mac Neasa, his king. He refused, and Deirdre put a geasa on him, that he had to run away with her.

Naoise had no choice, then, but to get Deirdre as far away from Emain Macha as he could, before the king found out. His brothers Ainnle and Ardan refused to be separated from him, and the four of them fled Ulster, with their servants and retainers.

There was nowhere in Ireland they could rest and be safe, so the sons of Uisneach took Deirdre across the sea to Scotland. The brothers entered into service with the king of Scotland, and became part of his army. But they never stayed in the fort with the other warriors, at the end of every day they would go off into the wilderness, no one knew where. The King of Scotland grew suspicious, and decided to find out what they were keeping a secret from him. He sent spies to follow him, and the spies reported back that the three brothers had come to a camp in the middle of nowhere, where they were greeted by the most beautiful woman any of them had ever seen. Deirdre had made a home for her and Naoise in the wilds, and she took care of him and his brothers, cooking fine food for them, and making sure they wanted for nothing.

As soon as the king of Scotland heard about this great beauty, he wanted her for himself. He knew he couldn’t kill the brothers, when they had sworn to serve him, so he put them on the front lines of every battle, hoping that they would be killed. They were such great warriors that this did not work, but Deirdre realized what was happening, and persuaded Naoise of the danger they were in. They left the king of Scotland’s service, and fled further into the wilderness, coming at last to a remote island in the north, near to the training school of the warrior woman, Scathach.

They lived in the wilds for many years, the brothers hunting, and Deirdre making a home for them.

In Emain Macha, Fergus Mac Roigh was the only one brave enough to raise the subject of the Sons of Uisneach with Conchubar. When Conchubar thought of Naoise’s betrayal, it never failed to drive him to a rage. But Fergus was very fond of the sons of Uisneach, and he never stopped arguing for Conchubar to forgive them, and to let them come home. He made so many arguments and so many pleas, that at last Conchubar gave in. He told Fergus he could invite the brothers back to Ulster, and place them under his own protection as a guarantee of their safety.

So Fergus went to Scotland, and when he landed on the shore, he let out a shout. Far in the wilds, Naoise was playing chess with Deirdre. When he heard the shout, he jumped to his feet, saying, “That’s the shout of an Irish man!” But Deirdre said it was not, it was definitely the shout of a Scottish man. Fergus shouted from the beach again, and Naoise leaped up, crying “That’s the shout of an Ulsterman!” But again, Deirdre persuaded him that it was not. Then Fergus shouted again, and Naoise cried, “That’s the shout of Fergus Mac Roich!” And nothing Deirdre said could persuade him otherwise.

He asked her why she had lied, and Deirdre told him that she had had a dream the night before. A raven had flown over to Scotland from Ireland, with three drops of honey in its beak. But when it landed, the honey turned into blood. But Naoise and his brothers were so excited at the prospect of seeing Fergus again that they dismissed her dream as a woman’s imaginings, and rushed to greet their dear friend.

Fergus told them the wonderful news: that Conchubar Mac Neasa had finally been persuaded to forgive them, and take them back into the Red Branch. The brothers were thrilled; they had missed Emain Macha, and all their friends there. They swore an oath that they would not eat or sleep till they were back home in Emain Macha. But on the voyage back to Ireland, Deirdre never once took her eyes of the shoreline of Scotland. She sang a lament for having to leave the mountains and loughs of Scotland, the only home she had ever been happy in.

When they landed on the shore of Ulster, a local man came to invite Fergus to a feast. There was a geasa on Fergus, and on all the Red Branch warriors, never to refuse a feast in their honour, and so he could not refuse. Now, this man had prepared the feast for Fergus at Conchubar’s request: he was not nearly so ready to forgive as Fergus thought. Deirdre begged Fergus not to desert them, she was sure something terrible would happen. But he could not refuse. Then Deirdre berated him for being a coward, and deserting the men he’d put under his protection. He was more interested in eating and drinking than in honour! To placate her, Fergus had his son, Fiachu, take up his duty to ensure their protection.

When they arrived in Emain Macha, Conchubar did not come out to greet them. He sent Leabharcham instead, and she told Naoise to hide Deirdre’s face, and she brought them to the Speckled House, where the warriors of the Red Branch hung their weapons, and the heads of their enemies. They were given food and drink there, and Naoise and Deirdre played a game of chess to pass the time.

Conchubar was in two minds whether or not to forgive Naoise. He wanted to let it go, he knew it made him look bad to hold a grudge for so long, but he became so furious when he thought of Deirdre getting away, that he could not bring himself to forgive Naoise. He asked Leabharcham what did Deirdre look like, was she still beautiful? And Leabharcham said, “Oh the wilderness has ruined my poor Deirdre, she is a hag! Her skin is weathered and grey, her fingernails are dirty and broken, what teeth she has left are yellow, and her hair is coarse as a horse’s mane.

At that, Conchubar’s jealousy abated, and he thought how fine it would be to welcome the brothers back into his service. But when as he thought it over, he was not sure he could trust Leabharcham to be impartial when it came to Deirdre. So he sent a servant to spy in the window of the Speckled House and report back to him.

Naoise saw the man looking through the window, and he threw a chess-piece at him that knocked out his eye. The man came back to Conchubar with one eye missing, and said that it was a price worth paying to have seen Deirdre, and he would gladly give up his other eye just to look at her again.

At this, Conchubar’s jealousy came flooding back, and he called on his warriors to attack Naoise and the sons of Uisneach. But half of the men refused to attack their former brothers in arms, and would not fight. The others attacked the Speckled House.

The sons of Uisneach put Deirde in the middle of them, and stood shoulder to shoulder in a circle around her. They were able to fight any number that came at them, and no matter what side Conchubar’s men attacked from, they were met with swords and shields. Fergus Mac Roigh’s son Fiachu fought Conchubar Mac Neasa’s son in single combat. Conall Cearnach saw a man attacking his king’s son, and without pausing to see who it was, he struck Fiachu down dead. But when he saw who it was that he had killed, he cried, “A king’s son for a king’s son!” and he cut the head off Conchubar Mac Neasa’s son.

Conchubar could see that his men were making no headway, so he went to Cathbad the druid for help. Cathbad agreed to help him, but only if Conchubar swore that he would not kill the sons of Uisneach. Conchubar agreed, and said he only wanted Naoise to apologise and all would be forgiven. So Cathbad sent a spell that surrounded the sons of Uisneach with a black and hungry sea. They had to swim, though they were on dry land. Naoise put Deirdre up onto his shoulders, and they swam and fought off their foes, until exhaustion overcame them and their weapons slipped from their fingers.

Conchubar’s men seized them, and Conchubar said that while he couldn’t kill them himself, he would give a fortune to any man who would do the deed for him. None of the men of the Red Branch would do it, but at last one man stepped forward. He was the son of the King of Norway, Maigne Rough hand, and Naoise had killed his father and brothers in a battle long ago. He said he would be glad to kill them for Conchubar.

Ainnle spoke up, then, and asked to be killed first. He was the youngest, and had never lived without his brothers, and did not want to be left alive after them now. Ardan, too, begged to be killed first so he did not have to watch his brothers die. Then Naoise said that he had a sword, given to him by Mananan Mac Lir, that could cut down anything in front of it. He asked Maigne Rough Hand to use his sword, and cut their heads off at the same instant. And so that is what they did: the three sons of Uisneach laid their heads down on the same block, and Maigne Rough Hand swung the sword and chopped all their heads off.

When Fergus Mac Roich came back from his feast and saw the Sons of Uisneach dead, and his own son dead besides, he burned Emain Macha to the ground. Then he, and the half of the Red Branch warriors who had refused to take part in the fight, left Ulster. They went to Conchubar Mac Neasa’s greatest enemy, Queen Maeve of Connaught, and pledged their service to her.

Conchubar put Deirdre into a beautiful house, and surrounded her with the finest things. He began to court her, but Deirdre’s hatred towards him never cooled. She would not look at him, or speak to him, or acknowledge his presence in any way. She cast aside every gift he gave her, and took no joy in the luxuries surrounding her. He would come to sing outside her window, as he was famed for his beautiful voice, and she would shut the window, complaining of a horrible noise.

After a year of this, Conchubar grew angry that all his kindness was being snubbed, and he came to her to ask her if there was any man in the world that she hated more than he. Deirde said, “Well, I hate you with all my heart, but I hate Maine Rough Hand a little more, because he killed my Naoise.”

So Conchubar said, “In that case, I’m going to give you to Maigne Rough Hand for a year, to do with as he pleases, and we’ll see if you’re any kinder to me after that.”

He sent for Maine Rough Hand to come and take Deirdre away. They placed her in Maigne’s chariot, and Conchubar stood on one side of her, and Maigne on the other. On the way to Maigne’s country, Conchubar joked that she was helpless as a ewe between two rams. They passed by a place where the cliffs hung over the road, and Deirdre leaned her head out of the chariot, and dashed her brains out against the rocks.

She was buried in Emain Macha, near to where Naoise and his brothers lay. Conchubar could not bear the thought of them touching one another, even in death, and he had stakes of wood driven into the ground between their two graves. But the wood grew roots down into the graves, and two trees grew up, and twined together.

Diarmuid and Gráinne

Long ago in Ireland, in the time of the Fianna, one of the greatest and most famous warriors under Finn mac Cumhaill’s leadership was named Diarmuid O’Duibhne.

Diarmuid was the son of a man named Donn, and he was raised with his half-brother, the son of a man named Roc. One day, the son of Roc was frightened by an animal, and he ran between the legs of Diarmuid’s father Donn to hide. Donn squeezed the child between his thighs until he died. When the child’s father, Roc, found his son’s broken body, he wept and raged. Then he performed a magical ceremony, and brought his son back to life in the body of a wild boar. He put a geasa on it to kill Donn’s son Diarmuid, and sent the boar off into the wilds, because he knew that Diarmuid had a geasa on him never to pierce the skin of a pig, and would not be able to defend himself.

Besides the wild boar’s enmity, Diarmuid grew up to be a great warrior, and passed the rigorous tests to become one of the Fianna. The love and loyalty he had for Finn Mac Cumhaill was very strong, but Diarmuid was known for more than his fighting skills. He was a great favourite among women, being very beautiful, and he was born with the Bol Sherca in the middle of his forehead. This was a magical spot that made anyone who saw it fall in love with him. Diarmuid knew that this could cause all sorts of trouble, so he grew his hair down over his forehead to cover it, and tried to keep it out of sight.

Finn Mac Cumhaill was getting on in years, but was still the greatest warrior in all Ireland. He held onto his place as the head of the Fianna, but he was aware that someday, the years would start to tell, even on him. Every year on his birthday, he undertook to leap across a great chasm, because he would rather die as soon as his strength began to fail him, than to live on and slowly decline.

Finn loved all the finest things in life; feasting, storytelling, hunting and good company; and he decided that he had been too long without a wife. So he called his men together and asked for their advice on the matter. They all agreed that the only woman in Ireland fit to be the wife of the great Finn Mac Cumhaill was the daughter of the High King Cormac Mac Airt, called Gráinne. Now, Finn was aware that he was a good deal older than Gráinne, and he was shy of asking for her hand himself, so he sent two ambassadors to speak to Gráinne on his behalf.

GrainneGráinne was the most beautiful woman in Ireland at that time. When she was twelve years old, she had seen a boy playing hurling, and the wind had blown his hair back from his face, and she had fallen in love with him, completely and irrevocably. And as the years passed, she had refused every man who had ever asked for her hand, for love of the boy on the hurling field. But when she heard that the great Finn Mac Cumhaill was asking for her hand, she was flattered. She decided that she had spent long enough waiting for this boy, and she did not know his name or where to find him, so she might as well marry Finn.

When her answer was given, a great feast was held to celebrate the upcoming wedding. Gráinne hid behind a curtain, to spy out and catch a glimpse of her husband-to-be. She Finn’s son Oisin sitting beside him, and was struck by the contrast between them: how much younger and more beautiful Oisin looked than his father. She wondered why Finn had asked for her for himself, and not for his son, and she began to regret her decision. And then Finn moved out of the way, and she saw the man seated on the other side of him: Diarmuid O’Duibhne. The boy from the hurling field who she had loved since she was twelve.

At that moment, Gráinne resolved that she was not going to marry Finn Mac Cumhaill.

She sat down to the feast, saying nothing, and passed around a cup of wine, into which she’d put a sleeping posset. She gave it to Finn, and to all of the Fianna, apart from the leaders of the Fianna. Then, one by one, she asked each of the leaders of the Fianna if they would run away with her. They all refused, such was their loyalty to Finn. Then Gráinne turned to Diarmuid and put him under a geasa to run away with her.

Diarmuid was torn. He had never betrayed Finn, and never wanted to, but he could not go against a geasa put on him by a woman. She told him that she was going to ready herself, and went to her chambers, and while she was gone, Diarmuid consulted with the other leaders of the Fianna. They all agreed: he had no choice. Even though it meant tearing his heart in two, and leaving one half of it with Finn Mac Cumhaill, he could not break a geasa.

Very unhappily, Diarmuid went away with Gráinne. Unused to hard travelling, Gráinne grew weary after a while and asked Diarmuid to carry her, but he refused, hoping she would give up and go back to Finn. Instead, she put him under a geasa to go and find horses for them, and he had no choice but to do as she asked.

They met with Aengus Óg, the god of love, who thoroughly approved of their match, and decided to help them. He told them that they were never going to be able to sleep in a cave with one opening, or a house with one door, or a tree with one branch, and that they would never be able to eat where they cooked, or sleep where they ate. They would have to keep moving if they were to stay ahead of Finn and the Fianna.

When Finn Mac Cumhaill awoke the next day from the sleeping potion, and realized what had happened, his heart broke. It was not Gráinne’s desertion that hurt him, but the fact that Diarmuid had betrayed him. He set out with a grimness and a set in his jaw to catch them up and get his revenge.

For a long time he chased them, and they were always one step ahead. Every time he came across their traces, he grew more and more furious, but every time he found one of the nests that Diarmuid had made for Gráinne, he found that Diarmuid had left a piece of raw meat or fish as a message to Finn that he had not touched Gráinne. Then one day, as Diarmuid and Gráinne were crossing a ford, a splash of water wet her thigh. She said to Diarmuid that whatever courage he might have in battle, that splash of water had more courage than he. And Diarmuid was shamed into making her his wife, and after that he left no messages of purity for Finn.

One night, they slept in a house with seven doors, and Finn and the Fianna caught up with them. A member of the Fianna stood at each door to make sure they couldn’t escape. Aengus Óg came down, and told them that he would spirit them away to safety, but Diarmuid refused. He sent Gráinne away with the god, and stayed behind. Diarmuid went to each door in turn, and at each door, the man who guarded it offered to let him go, till he came to the seventh door, guarded by Finn Mac Cumhaill. Roaring in anger, Finn told him he would kill him if he came out that door. Diarmuid opened the door to face him, and took to the fight. When the Fianna surrounded him, he leaped up with the leap of a salmon, jumped over their heads, and ran away to join Gráinne.

Later that year, Diarmuid got permission from a giant to hunt on his land, provided he did not eat any of the magical rowan berries that grew on the tree where the giant lived. But Gráinne, who was pregnant, longed for the berries, and so Diarmuid killed the giant for her. The berries high up in the tree were sweeter than those below, so the two climbed up into the tree to the giant’s bed, and ate berries and rested a while.

The Mac Morna clan, enemies of Finn Mac Cumhaill, came to make peace with him. Finn said that he would agree to a truce if they brought him either the head of Diarmuid O’Duibhne, or the magical berries of the rowan tree. They decided the berries would be easier to get, so they set out, but of course, they found the giant slain and many of the berries missing.

Finn knew that only Diarmuid could have killed that giant, since it wasn’t one of his men, and he and the Fianna spent that night camping under the tree. Finn had a good idea that Diarmuid was still up there. He challenged Oisin to a game of chess, and as Oisin began to make a move that would lead to Finn beating him, a berry dropped onto the square that he should move to. He made the move, and continued to follow the guidance of the rowan berries. Eventually, Oisin beat his father at chess for the very first time. Finn Mac Cumhaill sprang up, saying “There’s only one man in Ireland who could have beaten me at chess, and that’s Diarmuid O’Duibhne.” And there was Diarmuid, looking down on them from up in the tree. Diarmuid leaped to safety, while Aengus Óg spirited Gráinne away.

After years and years on the run, and all the time Diarmuid and Gráinne had spent living together as man and wife, raising their four sons and their daughter, and never able to stop or rest, they decided to try and make peace with Finn Mac Cumhaill. Finn agreed to put his anger aside, and welcomed them back with a great feast. They were finally able to settle down with their family and live in peace, and Diarmuid and Finn rebuilt their great friendship.

Some years later, Finn asked Diarmuid to go hunting with him. They came across a terrible beast: the wild boar of Ben Bulben. They tracked it through the wilds, and when they cornered it at last, the boar ran straight for Diarmuid. It was the son of Roc, who had been killed so many years before, and it had to fulfil the geasa to kill the son of Donn.

Finn saw the beast charging at him, and reminded Diarmuid of his geasa, to never pierce the skin of a pig. The boar gored Diarmuid, and Diarmuid hit it on the head with the hilt of his sword, killing it. But it was too late, and Diarmuid lay dying. He asked Finn Mac Cumhaill to give him a drink of water from his hands. Anyone who drank water from the hands of Finn Mac Cumhaill would be restored to health, because of his magical thumb. So Finn went to the river, and carried water back to Diarmuid, but at the last moment, he remembered with bitterness, how Diarmuid had run away with Gráinne, and he let the water trickle out between his fingers. But he saw Diarmuid didn’t have long, and the great friendship between them moved his heart, so he went back for water, only to let it trickle through his fingers a second time. The third time he went back for water, and there was no bitterness left in him. He poured the water in between Diarmuid’s lips, but it was too late. Diarmuid O’Duibhne was already dead.

Cian and Eithne

Many years ago in Ireland, two magical races struggled for dominion for a long time. There were the Tuatha de Dannan, who had come from the far north, with magical treasures and great learning, and there were the Formorians, pirates who had their stronghold on Tory Island, and used to raid up and down the coast.

The most powerful of the Formorians was a man named Balor. Now, when he was a young lad, Balor passed by a house, and heard the druids of the Formorians chanting from inside. He knew that they were preparing spells of death and destruction to use in battles against the Tuatha de Dannan, and he knew that one was never supposed to look in on druids during their work. But the window was open a crack, and the temptation was too great to resist, and so Balor peeped in, for just a moment. When he looked, a plume of smoke from the druids’ spells shot out and hit him in the eye. He cried out in pain, and the druids all came running. They realized that the spell of death they had been making had gone into Balor’s eye, and anyone he looked at from that eye from now on would die. So Balor kept his eye closed among his own people, but whenever he went into battle, he had only to open it and look on his enemies for them to fall dead before him.

Balor was a pirate, and a scourge to the Tuatha de Dannan, because he was fearless. He had heard a prophecy that he would die at the hand of his grandchild. Since he had no grandchild, he had no fear of death, and he took every risk, and was the bravest and most daring of the Formorians. He did have one child, whose name was Eithne. She was very beautiful, but to make sure to protect himself from the prophecy, Balor imprisoned her in a tower of glass. He put twelve women there to watch over her, and see to her every need, but he made them promise never to speak to her of a man; she was never to know what a man was.

So the years went by, and Balor’s eyelid grew heavier and heavier, and drooped over his magical eye, till eventually the Formorians had to put an iron ring through it, and attach pulleys and ropes to be able to lift it. It took ten men pulling together to open up Balor’s evil eye, and ten more wielding poles and lances to prod it into position, so that it was pointing in the right direction.

As Eithne grew up, she used to sit at the top of her tower, looking out over the sea. She could see the curraghs coming and going along the coast, and she would see creatures in them, unlike any people she had ever seen. When she asked the women who waited on her what these creatures were, they were silent. Every night, when she slept, Eithne dreamed of the same face, a beautiful face, unlike any she had ever seen. And she had a great longing to meet the person whose face this was. But when she described the face to the women, they were silent, because every night, Eithne dreamed the same dream, of a man’s face.

At this time, there was a lord of land, a man of the Tuatha de Dannan called Cian. He owned a wonderful treasure, that everyone coveted, none more than Balor. Cian’s treasure was a magical cow, called the Glas Gaibheann, who never ran dry of milk. Balor used to follow Cian about in disguise, waiting for a chance to steal his cow, but Cian was well aware of the dangers, and was so careful with the Glas Gaibheann that he used to lead her about on a leash with him everywhere he went.

One day, Cian and his brother Samthain went to meet their other brother Goibniu the Smith, to have swords made. Cian left Samthain holding the cow’s leash, and went inside the forge to speak to Goibniu. Balor spotted his chance. He used magic to disguise himself as a red-headed child, and asked Samthain if he was getting a sword made as well that day. Samhtain said he was, that he’d brought the steel. And Balor replied that he had heard Cian and Goibniu saying that when they had finished making magnificent swords for themselves, that there would be no steel left to make Samthain’s sword. At this, Samthain was furious. He threw the leash to the child, and ran inside the forge, giving out to his brothers. Cian knew immediately that it had been a trick, and rushed outside, but it was too late. Balor had gone, and the Glas Gaibheann was nowhere to be seen.

Cian was determined to get his cow back. He went to a druid, and asked for his advice, but the druid told him that there was nothing he could do. Because of the power of Balor’s evil eye, Cian would not get the cow back while Balor was living. So Cian sought out another duid. Her name was Birog of the mountain, and she was known as the wisest and most powerful druid around. It happened that Birog knew of the prophecy against Balor. She told Cian that the other druid had been right, but that she knew how to bring about Balor’s death, if Cian would agree to help her. Cian agreed to do whatever was necessary, so Birog disguised him as a woman.

She called up a magical wind that blew herself and Cian across the sea to the bottom of the tower of glass where Eithne lived. Birog called out to the women that here was a Queen of the Tuatha de Dannan, who was being pursued by her enemies, and asked for shelter. Eithne instructed her women to open the door, and as soon as Birog was inside, she put a sleeping spell on the twelve women, and took the disguise off Cian.

Cian climbed up the stairs, to find Eithne at the top of the tower, looking out over the sea. He fell in love with her beauty and her sadness at that moment, and when Eithne looked at him, she saw the face that she had dreamed of all her life. They fell in love, and made love in the tower. Cian begged Birog to take Eithne back to Ireland with them, but Birog was too afraid of Balor. Before he could change her mind, she called up the magical wind to carry her and Cian back to the mainland, leaving Eithne behind.

Eithne was full of grief at being left behind, but her grief was eased when she found out she was carrying a child. She gave birth to a son; the grandson that was prophesised to end Balor’s life. When Balor found out, he took the child from her, intending to put it to death there and then. Eithne wrapped the baby in a cloak, and fastened it with a pin, and Balor cast the child out onto the waters. But the pin came out of the cloak, and the baby rolled into the waters, so that everyone watching thought the child was surely dead.

But Birog of the mountain was watching for her chance, and as soon as the baby rolled under the waves, she plucked him up and carried him to his father. Cian was delighted to have his child, and he had him fostered by the best people, and raised up with every advantage. The boy’s name was Lugh, and he grew up to be a great man, and a great warrior, and in time, he fulfilled the prophecy, killing Balor and defeating the Formorians forever in the Second Battle of Moytura.

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Caoilte’s Rabble

Caoilte Mac Ronan was a thin, grey man, and he was the best runner in all of the Fianna. Once, a king in Ireland asked all the fastest men he could find which of them would be able to fetch him sands from all the beaches in Ireland the quickest. They each gave him an answer: days or weeks or months; but when he got to Caoilte, Caoilte only smiled and held out a bag of sand. “I got it,” said he, “while ye were talking.”

Now, one time, the Fianna had stirred up a rebellion among the people of Ireland, and they were at odds with the High King himself, in Tara. He had no intention of starting a fight with the Fianna, so he asked Finn Mac Cumhaill to come peacefully as his hostage until the trouble had blown over, and Finn had agreed.

Caoilte was not there when this bargain was made. When he heard that his leader and friend was being held hostage, he was furious, and set out to avenge Finn. He went on a rampage of destruction, going in through every door that the red east wind blew on and destroying all before him, setting fire to the fields, and giving one man’s wife to another.

At last he came to Tara, and to get himself inside quietly, he took the clothes off the doorkeeper. He snuck into the king’s hall, and took the king’s sword right out of his sheath, replacing it with his own, which was thin as a blade of grass after all the fighting he’d done with it. Still disguised as a servant, he stood behind the king at the feast, holding a candle.

Now, the king was jumpy after hearing all these rumours of Caoilte’s rampage, and he thought he spotted Caoilte there in the shadows. But Finn dismissed this. “Caoilte has a high mind,” he said “And he wouldn’t go creeping about Tara with a candle, he only does high deeds!”

The king was at ease after that, till Caoilte handed him a glass of wine. “There’s a smell of Caoilte’s skin off that wine,” the king said. And at that, Caoilte knew he was discovered, and spoke out.

“Tell me what to do to get freedom for Finn Mac Cumhaill,” he said.

The high king thought about this. It wasn’t that he wanted Finn Mac Cumhaill as a hostage. If nothing else, this business of looking over his shoulder in case there was an enraged man of the Fianna coming for him was playing havoc with his nerves. It was time he wanted, for the rebellion to die down, and so he decided to set Caoilte a task that would surely take even him some time to achieve.

“I have a mind,” said the High King, “to see every creature in Ireland all together in the one place. A pair of each.”

“Right,” said Caoilte, and away he went.

He searched through all of Ireland, hunting down birds and beasts, wild and tame. The creatures were all startled, but Caoilte herded them and drove them on before them so fast that they hadn’t the time to fight amongst themselves. All the same, the deer did not like being so close to the wolves, nor the backbirds to the foxes, so it was a terrible time he had to bring them all together in one place and drive them. He almost had it, when a raven broke south, and a wild duck north, and he had to run them both down and bring them back by their necks before anything else could escape.

At last, he brought them all before the gates of Tara as evening was closing in, and shouted up at the walls for them to send out the king.

The king thought to himself, “This is far too soon,” so he had his men tell Caoilte to wait until morning: he wanted to see all the animals together in daylight. He had them direct Caoilte to a particular house to keep the creatures in all night.

It was a house with nine doors.

No sooner had Caoilte driven all the animals and birds inside, then they let out a dreadful screech, and every one of them did all they could to escape. There was no rest for Caoilte that night; he had to run from door to door all around the house, flinging back birds and beasts all desperately trying to get away from him and each other.

At last, when the sun rose, Caoilte brought all the creatures before the High King of Tara, and such a noise they were still making, that the people called them Caoilte’s Rabble!

As he looked out over the creatures, the High King thought to himself that this hadn’t been a bad plan at all. He had bought another bit of time with Finn Mac Cumhaill as his hostage, and after all, this was a fairly magnificent gift. What king in the world wouldn’t want a gathering of all the wild creatures in his land brought to him as tribute?

So he let Finn Mac Cumhaill go. And the second Caoilte stopped herding and circling the animals, they bolted off in all directions, fleeing from Tara, no two by the same road, so all the profit the High King had of them was that one glance.

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