A year after Cú Chulainn earned his name by defeating Culann’s hound, he continued to train with the Boy’s Troop at Emain Macha. These were the sons of Ulster’s greatest warriors, learning the arts of combat, strategy, poetry, and druidry, preparing to become the next generation of heroes.
One day, Cathbad, the chief druid of King Conchobar mac Nessa, was teaching his students about prophecy. To demonstrate, he watched the flight of birds and cast a bundle of sticks into the air, reading the way they landed.
“This is a fateful day,” he declared. “Any young man who takes up arms for the first time today will have a short life—but a glorious one. He will die young, but his name will live forever, and his glory will never be surpassed.”
The boys listened in silence. Some were nearly old enough to become warriors, but none were eager to trade their lives for fame.
None except Cú Chulainn.
Without hesitation, he ran straight to his uncle, King Conchobar, and demanded a set of weapons.
The King tried to dissuade him.
“You are far too young,” he said. “Who put this idea in your head?”
“Cathbad did,” Cú Chulainn replied, though it wasn’t quite the truth.
Conchobar, thinking the druid had given his blessing, relented. He sent for the weapons he himself had used at seventeen, when he first took up arms.
But as soon as Cú Chulainn gripped the weapons, he shattered them to splinters.
Stronger and stronger weapons were brought, but none could withstand his strength—until at last, the King gave him his own weapons, crafted by the finest smiths in Ulster.
This time, they held firm.
Just then, Cathbad entered the hall and gasped in horror.
“What is this child doing, taking up arms?”
The King turned to him. “He said you told him to.”
The druid’s face darkened. He had meant his prophecy as a warning, not an encouragement. But Cú Chulainn was unshaken.
“I do not care if I die tomorrow,” he said. “As long as my name will never be forgotten.”
Now that there was no turning back, Conchobar prepared to equip his nephew properly. He sent for a chariot and charioteer, but Cú Chulainn was as reckless with chariots as he was with weapons, destroying several in his excitement.
To keep him under control, Conchobar assigned his best charioteer, Ibar, to accompany him. Ibar was skilled and cautious, chosen specifically to keep the young warrior out of trouble.
And so, as was the custom when a warrior first took up arms, Cú Chulainn and Ibar set out from Emain Macha.
But they had hardly left the stables when Ibar suggested they turn back.
“Just one thing first,” Cú Chulainn said.
He wanted to pass by the Boy’s Troop so they could salute him as a warrior. He drove up and down in his new chariot, showing off his weapons and armour. The boys wished him well, cheering him on.
“Now we go back,” said Ibar.
“Just a little further,” said Cú Chulainn.
He insisted on visiting his foster-brother, Conall Cernach, who guarded the borders of Ulster. It was Conall’s duty to fight any enemy warrior who crossed into their lands, escort poets safely to Emain Macha, and ensure that any guest who left Ulster was satisfied with the King’s hospitality.
Conall was surprised to see Cú Chulainn in a royal chariot, carrying a warrior’s weapons.
“I have taken up arms today,” Cú Chulainn declared, “and I am going on an adventure to draw first blood and prove myself a warrior!”
Conall agreed to escort him beyond the border—after all, if anything happened to Cú Chulainn, it would be on his head.
But Cú Chulainn had other ideas.
He waited until they were on their way, then launched a stone from his slingshot, breaking the shaft of Conall’s chariot.
Thrown to the ground, Conall roared after him, “Why did you do that?”
“Just testing my aim,” said Cú Chulainn with a grin. Then he convinced Ibar to keep going just a little further.
As they travelled, Cú Chulainn asked about every hill, valley, and landmark.
Ibar, hoping to frighten him into returning home, told him about the fearsome warriors known as the Sons of Nechtan—three brothers who had killed as many Ulstermen as were alive today.
- Foill mac Nechtan could not be pierced by any blade.
- Tuachell mac Nechtan was so fast that he dodged any attack.
- Fandall mac Nechtan was the greatest swimmer in Ireland, always fighting his battles in the river.
Ibar hoped Cú Chulainn would turn back.
Instead, the boy grinned.
“Perfect. They’ll make fine opponents.”
Ignoring Ibar’s protests, Cú Chulainn lay down on the grass to sleep, leaving Ibar to keep watch.
Before long, Foill arrived.
“There is a geis on this land,” he told Ibar. “Anyone who enters must face us in single combat before they can leave.”
Ibar begged for mercy, saying Cú Chulainn was just a boy.
But Cú Chulainn sprang to his feet.
“I accept the challenge!“
He crushed Foill’s skull with a stone from his slingshot.
Next came Tuachell, who charged at him with terrifying speed. But Cú Chulainn hurled his spear so forcefully it went straight through his ribs.
Finally, Fandall challenged him to fight in the river. But Cú Chulainn dragged him under the water, held him down, and severed his head with his sword.
He tied the heads of all three brothers to his chariot, then, still full of battle fury, hunted two wild stags, tying them to the back of the chariot. He also knocked a flock of swans from the sky and tied them overhead, so they flew above him like a great white cloud.
As he returned to Emain Macha, the people saw him coming and panicked.
His eyes blazed with battle-rage, and in this state, he could not tell friend from foe.
If they fought him, they risked losing their most promising warrior.
If they let him in, he could destroy the entire city.
So the women of Emain Macha stepped forward.
They lifted their skirts, exposing themselves.
The moment he saw them, Cú Chulainn squeezed his eyes shut and turned away.
They seized him and threw him into a vat of cold water—which instantly boiled to steam from his fury.
The second vat boiled.
The third warmed but did not boil.
And so, Cú Chulainn calmed himself.
That was how he took up arms on a day no one else dared to, choosing death and glory over a long and peaceful life.
