Early Irish Myths and Sagas (25 page)

Cú Chulaind thus went down to Druimm Collchailli, which is called Áne Chlíach, and he said ‘Tell me, friend Lóeg, do you know what territory we are in?’ ‘Indeed, I do not,’ said Lóeg. ‘Well, I do,’ replied Cú Chulaind. ‘Cend Abrat and Slíab Caín to the south, there, and Slíab nEblinni to the north-east. The large, bright pond yonder is Lind Luimnig. Druimm Collchailli is where we are now – it is called Áne
Chlíach and lies in Crích na Dési Bice. To the south of us is the host, in Clíu Máil maicc Úgaine, in the territory of Cú Ruí son of Dáre son of Dedad.’

While Cú Chulaind and Lóeg were talking, a tremendous, heavy snow fell upon the Ulaid, and it was as high as the shoulders of the men and the shafts of their chariots. Extra work was performed by the Ulaid charioteers in erecting stone columns to shelter their horses from the snow, and these ‘Stables for the Horses of the Ulaid’ survive still. And they prove the story.

After that, Cú Chulaind and Lóeg returned to the Ulaid. ‘Well,’ said Senchae son of Ailill, ‘what territory are we in?’ ‘We are in Crích na Dési Bice, the land of Cú Ruí son of Dáre, in Clíu Máil maicc Úgaine,’ replied Cú Chulaind. ‘Woe to us, then,’ said Bricriu, ‘and woe to the Ulaid.’ ‘Not so, Bricriu,’ said Cú Chulaind, ‘for I will show the Ulaid how we can retrace our way and arrive in front of our enemies before dawn.’ ‘Woe to the Ulaid.’ said Celtchair son of Uthechar, ‘that ever was born the sister’s son who gives such advice.’ ‘We have never before known you to offer the Ulaid a plan of weakness and cowardice, Cú Chulaind,’ said Fergnae son of Findchóem, a royal hospitaller. ‘Alas that a person who gives such advice should escape without our making him a place of points and edges of weapons,’ said Lugaid Lámderg son of Léti king of the Dál nArade. ‘What would you prefer, then?’ asked Cú Chulaind, and Celtchair answered ‘This, that we spend a day and a night in this territory, for to leave it would signify defeat, and we have not left so much as a fox’s track in land or desert or wilderness.’ ‘Then tell us, Cú Chulaind,’ said Conchubur, ‘where we ought to encamp for a day and a night.’ ‘Óenach Senclochar is here, and this rough winter season is not fair-time,’ said Cú Chulaind. ‘And Temuir Lúachra lies on the slope of Irlúachair, and there there are buildings and dwellings.
’ ‘It would be right to go to Temuir Lúachra, then,’ said Senchae.

So they went straight on to Temuir Lúachra, and Cú Chulaind showed them the way. But if Temuir Lúachra was uninhabited before or after, it was not uninhabited that night. No surprise this, for a son had been born to Ailill and Medb and given the name Mane Mó Epirt and sent out to be fostered by Cú Ruí son of Dáre; and that night Ailill and Medb and the chieftains of Connachta had come to drink to the end of the boy’s first month. They had all gathered there, and so had Echu son of Luchtae with his province and Cú Ruí son of Dáre with the Cland Dedad. Despite the presence of so many, the woman-warrior Medb, the daughter of Echu Feidlech high king of Ériu, was still cautious, and so there were two watchmen, two druids, guarding her. Their names were Cromm Deróil and Cromm Darail, two foster-sons of the most excellent druid Cathub.

It happened that these two druids were on the wall of Temuir Lúachra that night, looking and watching and waiting and guarding on all sides, when Cromm Deróil said ‘Have you seen what I just saw?’ ‘What is that?’ asked Cromm Darail. ‘I seemed to see a red-armoured company and the thundering of a host on the slopes of Irlúachair from the east,’ said Cromm Deróil. ‘I would not think a mouthful of blood and gore too much for the person who said that,’ said Cromm Darail. ‘No host or multitude that, but the great oaks we passed yesterday.’ ‘If that is so, then why the great royal chariots under them?’ asked Cromm Deróil. ‘Not chariots they, but the royal strongholds we passed,’ answered Cromm Darail. ‘If that is so, then why are there beautiful, pure white shields in them?’ asked Cromm Deróil. ‘Not shields at all those, but the stone columns at the entrances to the royal strongholds,’ answered Cromm Darail. ‘If those are columns, then why all the red-pointed
spears over the great dark breasts of the mighty host?’ asked Cromm Deróil. ‘Not spearpoints at all those, but the deer and wild beasts of the land with their horns and antlers overhead,’ answered Cromm Darail. ‘If those are deer and wild beasts, then why do the horses’ hooves blacken the air overhead with the clods they send up?’ asked Cromm Deróil. ‘Not horses they, but the herds and flocks and cattle that have been let out of their stalls and pens – it is in their pastures that birds and other winged creatures alight in the snow,’ answered Cromm Darail.

‘My word, if those are birds and winged creatures, it is not a single flock,’ Cromm Deróil said, and he recited this poem:

If that is a flock, with the colour of a flock,
they are not one kind of bird.
A multicoloured cloak with a golden brooch
seems to hang round the neck of each bird.

If these are flocks from a rugged glen,
their tips are very black:
not scarce their bitter spears
with the warlike points.

They seem to me not flurries of snow
but small men, in truth,
arriving in a multitude
with their straight spears,
a man behind each hard crimson shield.
That is a huge flock.

‘And do not contradict me, either,’ said Cromm Deróil, ‘for it is I who am telling the truth. Why did they bend under the branches of the oaks of Irlúachair on their journey west if they were not men?’ Cromm Deróil reproved Cromm Darail thus, and he recited this poem:

Cromm Darail, what do I see
through the mist?
Whose blood is presaged
after the slaughter?

Not right for you to contend with me
on every point.
You are saying, hunchback, they are
slow bushes.

If they are bushes they will remain
in silence.
They will not rise unless there is need
for them to go.

If they were a grove of alder trees
over the wood of a cairn,
they would not follow a deceptive path,
they being dead.

Since they are not dead, fierce their slaughter,
rough their colour.
They traverse plains and wood hedges
for they are alive.

If they were trees on hilltops,
they would be without deeds of combat;
those mantles would not move
if they were speckled.

Since they are not trees, ugly their clamour,
without any lie;
men of triumphs these men of alder shields,
red their weapons.

Since they ride dark horses,
they form a row of hosts;
if they are rocks, they row swiftly,
red if they are stones.

Why is there a gleam on each point –
a contest dark and certain.
Men go past the tips –
why do they bend over?

Cú Ruí, the son of handsome Dáre, overheard the contention between the two druids outside on the wall of Temuir Lúachra, and he said ‘Not in harmony those druids outside.’ Meanwhile, the sun rose over the earth’s orb, whereupon Cromm Deróil said ‘Now the host is evident.’ The sun rose over the slopes of Irlúachair, and Cromm Deróil recited this poem:

I see many-hilled Lúachair,
the bright-fronted sun shining against its flanks;
they are youths who travel from afar,
between the brown moor and the trees.

If that is a flock of ravens yonder in the east,
if it is a flock of fat landrails,
if it is a flock of noisy starlings,
if it is a flock of herons or barnacle geese,

if it is a flock of shrill barnacle geese,
if it is a flock of shrill swans,
they are still far from heaven,
they are still close to the earth.

Cú Ruí, son of dear Dáre,
man who traverses the streams of the ocean,
tell us, since you know best,
what crosses the ancient mountain.

Cú Ruí answered with this poem:

The two watchmen, the two druids,
great their perplexity.
What their eyes see terrifies them;
their resistance wavers.

If those are curly-horned cattle,
if they are hard-skinned rocks,
if it is a sparse, dark green wood,
if it is the roar of waves of Muir Miss,

if they are cattle, with the colour of cattle,
they are not one kind of cow;
there is a fierce man with a bloody spear
on the back of each cow.

There is a sword for each cow
and a shield on the left side;
hard standard against hard standard
above the cows that I see.

They had not been there long, the two druids, before a destructive white leap broke from the first troop across the glen. The men advanced with such ferocity that there was not a shield on its peg or a sword or spear on its rack that did not fall down. Every thatched house in Temuir Lúachra had its thatching fall away in flakes the size of tablecloths. It was as if the ocean had washed over the walls and across the corners of the earth towards them. Faces fell and teeth chattered within Temuir Lúachra. The two druids grew dizzy and swooned and fainted; Cromm Darail fell outside the wall, and Cromm Derdil fell inside. Even so, it was Cromm Deróil who rose and cast his eye over the first troop to reach the green. This troop descended upon the green and sat there as one man, and the heat of the great valorous warriors was such that the snow softened and melted for thirty feet on every side.

Cromm Deróil then went inside to Medb and Ailill and Cú Ruí and Echu son of Luchtae, and Medb asked ‘Whence has this loud clamour come: down from the air, or across the sea from the west, or from the east across Ériu?’ ‘Indeed, across Ériu from the east, across the slopes of Irlúa-chair the march of this barbarous host,’ said Cromm Deróil.

‘I do not know if they are Ériu or foreigners. If they are Ériu and not foreigners, then they are Ulaid.’ ‘Would Cú Ruí not recognize the Ulaid by their description?’ asked Medb. ‘He has often accompanied them on raids and hostings and expeditions.’ ‘I would recognize them if they were described for me,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘Indeed, I can describe the first troop that descended upon the green,’ said Cromm Deróil. ‘Do so, then,’ said Medb.

‘Outside and to the east of the fort,’ said Cromm Deróil, ‘I saw a great regal band, and each man was the equal of a king. Three men stood before the band; the middle man was a tall, regal, broad-eyed warrior, his face like the moon in its fifteenth day. His forked beard was fair and narrow; his hair was short and reddish yellow and bound at the back. A fringed, scarlet cloak round him; a brooch inlaid with gold fastening the mantle over his white shoulders; a tunic of kingly satin next to his white skin. A dark crimson shield with bosses of yellow gold he had, and a sword with an inlaid gold hilt. A spear with a glittering blade in his white, illustrious right hand, and a smaller forked spear with it. On his right a true warrior with a face as bright as snow; on his left, a small, dark-browed man, but very resplendent. A very bright, fair man was performing the sword-edge feat overhead, his very sharp, ivory-hilted sword naked in one hand and his great warrior’s sword in the other. These swords he juggled up and down so that they cast shadows against the hair and cheeks of the tall warrior in the middle, but, before the swords could strike the ground, he caught them by their points and edges.’

‘Regal the description,’ said Medb. ‘Regal the people described,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘Who are they, then?’ asked Ailill. ‘Not difficult that,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘The tall warrior in the middle is Conchubur son of Fachtnae Fáthach, the worthy, rightful king of Ulaid, descendant of the kings of Ériu and Albu,
The man on his right, with face as white as snow, is Findtan son of Níall Níamglonnach, ruler of one third of Ulaid; the small, dark-browed man on Conchubur’s left is Cú Chulaind son of Súaltaim. Ferchertnae son of Coirpre son of Iliu is the very bright, fair man performing weapon feats overhead. Chief poet of the chief poets of the Ulaid he is, and rearguard when Conchubur invades the territory of his enemies. Whoever wishes to speak with the king must speak with this man first.’

‘Outside and to the east of the fort,’ said Cromm Deróil, ‘I saw a swift, handsome trio, all fitted out like champions. Two of them were youthful; the third lad, however, had a forked, dark-shining beard. These three came so swiftly and so lightly that they did not remove the dew from the grass; no one in the great host sees them, and yet they see the entire host.’

‘Gentle and light and peaceable the description,’ said Medb. ‘Gentle and peaceable the people described,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘Who are they?’ asked Ailill. ‘Not difficult that,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘Three noble youths of the Túatha Dé Danand they: Delbáeth son of Eithliu and Óengus Óc son of the Dagdae and Cermait Milbél. They arrived at dawn today to stir up strife and contention, and they have mingled with the host, and it is true that the host cannot see them but that they can see the host.’

‘Outside and to the east of the fort,’ said Cromm Deróil, ‘I saw a valorous warriorlike band led by a distinguished trio. One was dark and furious, and one was fair and truly handsome; but the third was strong and stout and mighty, with short, reddish yellow hair that shone like the crown of a birch tree at the end of autumn or like a brooch of pale gold. He had a forked, dark brown beard the length of a warrior’s hand, and his face was like the shining foxglove or a fresh ember. The three bore dark red warrior’s shields,
great multipointed spears, and heavy, powerful swords, and their apparel was fair and glittering.’

‘Warlike and heroic that description, indeed,’ said Medb. ‘Warlike and heroic the people described,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘Who are they, then?’ asked Ailill. ‘Not difficult that,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘The three chief warriors of Ulaid they are, the two Conalls and Lóegure: Conall Ánglonnach son of Iriel Glúnmár and Conall Cernach son of Amorgen and Lóegure from Ráith Immel.’

‘Outside and to the east of the fort,’ said Cromm Deróil, ‘I saw a frightful, unfamiliar trio standing before their band. Three linen tunics were next to their skin; three woolly, dun grey mantles covered the tunics; three iron stakes fastened the mantles at the breast. Their hair was dark and bristling, and they carried gleaming dun shields with hard, bronze bosses, spears with broad, flat heads, and swords with gold hilts. Like the cry of a strange hound on the scent the snorting and bellowing each of these men makes when he catches the sound of an enemy in the fort.’

‘Savage and heroic that description,’ said Medb. ‘Savage and heroic the people described,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘Who are they, then?’ asked Ailill. ‘Not difficult that,’ said Cú Ruí. ‘The three battle-stays of Ulaid they: Uma son of Remanfissech of Fedan Chúailnge, Errge Echbél of Brí Errgi and Celtchair Már son of Uthechar of Ráith Celtchair at Dún Dá Lethglas.’