The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends (13 page)

Laeg, Eithne and his friends who gathered around heard nor saw no sound nor movement.

To Cú Chulainn, however, a beautiful woman in a green cloak approached him. It was the same woman he had previously seen in his dream. The same who had chastised him.

“I am Lí Ban, the beauty of women,” she greeted him in a musical voice and allayed his alarm. “Good that you are here and still in life.”

“No good to me, since I am still dying,” replied Cú Chulainn.

“A choice for you,” smiled Lí Ban. “I am the daughter of Aedh Abrat and I have come to tell you that you may be cured, by reason of the fact that you are the beloved of
my sister, Fand. She thinks of nothing but you: not even of her own husband, Manánnan Mac Lir, god of the oceans.”

Cú Chulainn blinked in surprise, but he was not fearful for, it was said, that he was the mortal son of Lugh Lamhfáda, Lugh of the Long Hand and sunny countenance, who was god of
all arts and crafts. Nevertheless, the love of the wife of the god of the oceans was not something to receive lightly, when such a powerful god as Manánnan might wreak a vengeance to destroy
the entire human world, by causing the seas to rise and a great deluge to wipe away the lands.

“It would be a foolish man to bring down the vengeance of the ocean god,” Cú Chulainn observed. “Even though my mother, Dechtíre, told me I am born of Lugh of the
Long Hand.”

“Manánnan has forsaken my sister Fand and now she will have no one but you as her lover. My husband says he will send Fand to you, on condition that you fight against his enemies
for one day.”

“And who is your husband?”

“Labraid Luathlam ar Cledeb, Labraid of the Swift Hand on the Sword, King of Magh Mell, the Pleasant Plain. He has three great enemies – Eochaidh Indh Inbher, Eochaidh Euil and
Senach Síaborthe. Fight and defeat them and Fand will be yours.”

“I am sick: too sick to get up let alone to fight anyone.”

“You will be cured,” Lí Ban assured him.

“I know nothing of Magh Mell, nor do I know of Fand, your sister. I will remain here in sickness until I know more. Take Laeg Mac Riangabur, my charioteer, and let him bring me an account,
for I trust no one except Laeg in such matters.”

Now it appeared to those standing round the dying Cú Chulainn, who had seen or heard nothing of this encounter, that Laeg simply wandered off and vanished. In fact, Lí Ban took the
charioteer in a boat over the nearby lake and they came to an island surrounded by mist.

“You must not leave this island unless you are under the protection of a woman,” said Lí Ban.

Laeg shivered. “It is not something I have ever done, but if you say it should be so, it shall be so. I wish it were Cú Chulainn here, instead of myself.”

Lí Ban smiled. “True for you, and true for me.”

She led him to a green mound, in which there was a doorway. They emerged through this doorway into a great house and Laeg found himself surrounded by scores of beautiful women. Lí Ban
took him to a room where Fand herself was seated. He swallowed hard, did Laeg the charioteer, for Fand was more beautiful than any mortal woman. She looked on Laeg sadly, and it seemed his strength
melted away before her gaze, and she let a single tear drop on his arm.

Then Lí Ban led him away from Fand’s chamber and took him to the door of the house where he saw martial preparations being made.

“There will be a great battle tomorrow,” said Lí Ban.

“There is a strong army here,” agreed Laeg, looking around.

“But a stronger one across the plain. See in the distance there are the armies of Eochaidh Indh Inbher, Eochaidh Euil and Senach Síaborthe, gathering like ants on the distant hills.
See their spears and banners, like a black tide against the blue of the sky?”

And he saw their numbers, standing silently, without a clash of weapons nor a single war cry.

Then there came the rumble, as if of thunder, and a great war chariot came rolling forward to where they stood. A tall stern-faced warrior leapt from the chariot, tossing his reins to an
attendant. He strode forward. At his side hung a great two-handed sword. Lí Ban at once greeted him with a song of praise for his valour.

“No reason to praise valour before victory,” he chided gloomily. “Has Cú Chulainn come yet?”

“No, my lord, but this is Laeg, his charioteer. Laeg, this is my husband, Labraid Luathlam ar Cledeb, King of Magh Mell.”

Labraid greeted Laeg with enthusiasm. “Will Cú Chulainn come? See, yonder, the gathered armies of the forces of evil; the armies of the two Eochaidh’s and Senach the Spectre?
Unless he comes to our aid, I fear that we are fated to go down into the abyss.”

“I will bear news of all I have seen back to Cú Chulainn,” agreed the charioteer.

Laeg was returned to the side of Cú Chulainn and told him all he had seen. But Cú Chulainn did not rise. He seemed weak but he no longer babbled in a fever. Instead he whispered to
Laeg and told him to go to his own fortress of Dún Dealgan, where Émer, his wife, had gone.

“Tell her all that has happened to me, Laeg. Tell her that my fever caused me to forget and that I have an Otherworld sickness. Ask her to come to me.”

Now Eithne stood quiet when she heard him asking for his wife.

“If Eithne could not have cured Cú Chulainn with all her knowledge, how then can Émer, who does not know the herbs and spells as Eithne does?” whispered one of the
warriors of the Craobh Ríoga to another.

But Laeg sped on his chariot to Dún Dealgan and soon he had brought Émer to the side of her lord. When Laeg had told her what had happened, Émer had a rage on her, the like
no one had seen from her usually mild and solicitous countenance. How did Laeg and the men of Ulaidh dare keep the news of her husband’s sickness from her until this time? How could they have
let Cú Chulainn lie in a sleeping sickness without searching the four corners of Éireann for a cure?

“If Fergus or Conall or Conchobhar the king had been in a similar plight, would Cú Chulainn have stood by?” Émer berated them. “He would not have rested until he
found a cure. As for you, Laeg, how could you have gone to the Otherworld and returned without first securing a magical cure for him? Why didn’t you bring me the news earlier?”

She stepped down to Cú Chulainn’s side, hands on hips, and anger in her voice. Then she saw Eithne sulking behind the warriors of Ulaidh.

“Great is the shame on you, warrior of Ulaidh,” she sneered. “Great hero, who cannot rise from his bed! Shame on you, Cú Chulainn. You are no more than
Coileáinín Chulainn!” That was to say that instead of being “The Hound of Culann”, she told him he was no more than a “Puppy of Culann”. “Rise up,
brave warrior. Do you not
know that weakness is a step from death itself? Take your rightful place, take your sword, your shield and spear and put on your armour. Do not shame
me and yourself in front of these your comrades and countrymen. Shame is your lot if you lie there!”

She shook him by the shoulders roughly and he groaned. Then he rubbed his eyes and blinked. There was a blush of shame on him and he rose up. The strength returned to him. With a sigh, Eithne
turned and left for she was no longer needed.

Émer had shamed him back into health and no other could have done so.

Émer was wise to know that her husband would only be truly released when the Otherworld folk had let him go. So when Cú Chulainn said that he was now duty bound to go to Magh Mell
and fight for Labraid, she raised no objections. It was enough for her that he was recovered from the wasting sickness.

Laeg took the chariot’s reins and Cú Chulainn climbed in with his weapons and they bade farewell to Émer. To the astonishment of the warriors of Ulaidh, they drove to the
water’s edge and vanished.

At the edge of the water of the great lake, Lí Ban was waiting for them and enveloped them in a cloud of mist and took them over to the island and through the magic portal to Magh
Mell.

Labraid was there to greet them, standing tall with his sun-yellow hair tied at the back. There were the hosts of fighting men, impatient for the contest. Cú Chulainn rode out in front of
the army of Labraid, Laeg guiding the chariot.

“First we should scout the enemy’s forces,” Laeg advised, for the advice of a charioteer is much to be respected.

“I will go and do this task,” Cú Chulainn told Labraid. “Stay here with your army and when I need you, I shall raise a cry. Do not come before.”

Labraid was reluctant to let Cú Chulainn ride off with Laeg and with no other warrior to support him. However, he respected the champion’s request.

They moved forward and found the hills surrounding the
Pleasant Plain, filled with the black tents of the enemies as far as the eye could see. And they saw the battalions of
Senach the Spectre, riding blood-red horses, moving into position. Beyond was a grey mist, through which came the moaning sounds of the demon host. Blood hung heavy on the air already.

“Today the battle will be bloody,” Cú Chulainn told Laeg.

Now it happened that the Mórrígán, the triune goddess of death and battles, was allied to the demon Senach Síaborthe, Senach the Spectre. She sent her spirits, in the
shape of three night-black ravens, to hover over Cú Chulainn and warn Senach and his warriors of the calibre of the warrior who came against them.

But Senach’s men laughed at the birds and their warning. “There is but a single warrior of Ulaidh, a little human boy, who comes forward with his charioteer to challenge our hosts.
Is that all Labraid can send against us?”

They roared with laughter and made no special defence.

Cú Chulainn spent that evening scouting and, just before dawn, he was ready for the battle. At that time, Eochaidh Euil went to bathe at a pool near his tent, to prepare himself for
battle. Cú Chulainn came on him and cast his spear, transfixing him where he knelt by the water. There was a great groan from his heart, so strong that it seemed to come from a whole army
and not one man. In a rage, Eochaidh Euil’s bodyguard rushed forward and tried to close with Cú Chulainn. A battle-rage now rose in him.

Those who saw it and survived, of whom there were very few, said that his whole appearance altered. One of his eyes closed up so that it could hardly be seen, while the other thrust forward wide
and angry; from his brows, a column of blood gushed forth, so that those it touched were scalded. His fury gave him the strength of a hundred warriors.

Within a minute, he had laid dead thirty-three of Eochaidh Euil’s best champions.

Senach and Eochaidh Indh Inbher rallied their hosts and rushed forward to do battle.

“Lugh!” cried out Cú Chulainn, calling on the strength of his great immortal father.

Demon warriors fell this way and that, until Senach and Eochaidh Indh Inbher themselves were split asunder by the edge of his mighty blade.

Hearing Cú Chulainn calling on his father, the great god Lugh of the Long Hand, Labraid urged his army to roll forward on the enemy host. There was a bloody battle and soon the victory
was in no doubt. Labraid was sick of the slaughter and, as the enemy were surrendering, he called for a ceasefire. But Cú Chulainn, in his battle-rage, continued in the slaughter.

Laeg left his master then and raced forward to Labraid.

“It is his battle-fury, which will not cease until he has fought himself out,” he explained anxiously. “Let no man approach him, for it might be that he will turn on friend as
well as foe.”

“What can we do to stop him?” demanded Labraid. “For I am quite sick of senseless killing.”

“Get three large vats of ice-cold water.”

This they did.

Then Laeg asked for two young maidens to come forward and remove their clothes. On his instruction, they approached Cú Chulainn so that he was forced to drop his weapons before them. They
led him to the first vat of ice-cold water and put him in it. It boiled over by contact with his blood-heat. Then he was put into the second vat. It became hot, but it did not boil. Then he was put
into the third vat and, by this time, his blood had returned to normal and the battle-rage had left him.

Cú Chulainn emerged and was normal again.

Labraid thanked him for defeating the enemies of the Pleasant Plain.

“Now you may go to Fand, as a token of your reward.”

Laeg drove Cú Chulainn to the great palace in which he had seen Fand. Cú Chulainn was taken into a room to bathe and refresh and scent himself. Then he was brought into the
presence of Fand, who was waiting for him.

Cú Chulainn had never seen a woman so beautiful as Fand. Gone from his mind was Émer, gone were Eithne, Aoife and Niamh and all the other mortal women that he had ever
loved. He sat by her side while Lí Ban sang songs in praise of him. Cú Chulainn, like a boy, grew boastful and juggled golden apples for Fand, and performed tricks with
his sword and spear.

Fand, who was lovesick for this handsome young man, looked on him with eyes that shone with admiration. She asked him to describe his combats and battles and he was not loath to do so. She
listened avidly at his feet. Finally, Fand dismissed her sister and her handmaidens and she and Cú Chulainn slept together in a lover’s embrace.

Cú Chulainn stayed in the palace of Fand for a month of Otherworld time. But, as the days passed, Cú Chulainn began to remember the mortal world of Ulaidh.

“Stay with me, for no one in the mortal world misses you. No time is passing there,” Fand urged him.

But Cú Chulainn began to remember more and more about the mortal world and he became increasingly restless. “I must see my home in Dún Dealgan again,” he said, choosing
his words carefully. “I would see the Speckled Hall of the Craobh Ríoga again.”

Fand became terrified that she would lose her lover to the mortal world again.

“I must go and fight battles for my king,” Cú Chulainn finally said, “for I am a hound trained for war, not a puppy to frolic at my mistress’s feet.”

Now having said those words, the sad accusing face of his wife Émer came into his mind’s eye.

When Fand saw that he could not be persuaded to stay with her, she realised that he would have to return. She proposed that she would follow him to the mortal world and, on each quarter moon,
she would meet him on the Strand of the Yew Tree’s Head.