The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends Read online

  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 colum
n 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.

  Cú Chulainn called Laeg and they bade farewell to the people of Magh Mell, the Pleasant Plain, and Lí Ban brought them back to Ulaidh, to the very spot on the lakeshore. There was great joy at their return, which seemed hours rather than the month they had spent in the Otherworld. Cú Chulainn told Émer all that had happened there, with the exception of his affair with Fand. Life returned to normal at Dún Dealgan but, on each quarter moon, Cú Chulainn would venture forth to the Strand of the Yew Tree’s Head and meet with Fand.

  By the shadowy light, he and Fand made love on the sandy shore, or amidst the strong oak trees, on carpets of sweet hay or on the leafy mattress of the forest floor. Fand had her magic birds sing songs so that Cú Chulainn felt himself in the comfort of her palace.

  Émer was a wise woman, as we have said before. She soon learnt that her husband was meeting a strange woman and making love with her. Émer was wise but was also of flesh and blood. She found out where her husband’s assignations were taking place and she gathered fifty of her handmaidens and armed each of them with a sharp dagger. Then she set out to kill Fand.

  At that moment, Fand lay with Cú Chulainn in a forest glade. Being of the Otherworld, her senses were sharper than mortal ones. So she raised her head while Cú Chulainn lay sleeping.

  “Laeg!” she called to Cú Chulainn’s faithful charioteer, who was acting as a sentinel for his companion nearby. “Beware! There is harm coming near here.”

  Laeg leapt up, his bow already strung. “What is it? I see and hear nothing!”

  “I hear Émer and her handmaidens coming this way. They are armed with daggers and mean me harm.”

  Laeg hurried off into the forest to try to distract Émer.

  Cú Chulainn now roused himself from sleep, the sharpness of the exchange awaking him. He leapt up and started dressing, while Fand explained her fears.

  “Do not fear, Fand, but get into my chariot. Émer shall not harm you, so long as I am here.”

  Just then Émer, with Laeg trying to persuade her not to continue, burst into the clearing with her handmaidens behind her.

  “Put down your knife, Émer,” Cú Chulainn told her quietly.

  “Put it down?” sneered Émer. “This I tell you, the sun will not rise tomorrow unless I have parted you from this woman.”

  “I cannot fight with you,” smiled Cú Chulainn sadly. “And I doubt if you will kill me, in spite of your rage.”

  “No? It matters not to me how I separate you.”

  Fand moved forward then. “You cannot love him, if you would destroy him.”

  “Rather would I destroy you.”

  “Stand aside, Émer,” Cú Chulainn now told her, “for though I also love you, I have sworn to defend Fand against the daggers of our mortal world. Do you seek to destroy me? Ironic that would be, when I have survived so many combats, to be destroyed by my own wife.”

  Émer suddenly burst into tears. “You have shamed and dishonoured me before the women of Ulaidh and before all the five kingdoms of Éireann. What have I done to you, that you so despise me, and turned from me to a woman of the Otherworld for comfort?”

  “Cannot I love Fand as well as you? She is more beautiful than any mortal, intelligent and fair and worthy of a king in any land. There is nothing under the heavens that Fand would not do for me. Cannot I love you as well? For you are both equal in your own worlds and in your own ways.”

  Émer dried her eyes and laughed angrily. “Are you trying to justify your capriciousness? The unknown is always more exciting than the known and this is why you think you love her. One day, red seems ordinary and white is new; the next, it is red that is exciting and white is old. Men always worship what they can’t have and what they have seems worthless.”

  Cú Chulainn stood helpless between Émer and Fand and his face was sad. He suddenly realized that he loved both but for different reasons.

  At once wisdom claimed Émer’s mind.

  She laid aside her knife and dismissed her handmaidens, making them take an oath never to tell what they had seen.


  “I do not want him if he comes to me by claim of my position as his wife, or because of his guilt. He must come because of love.”

  Fand stepped forward and gazed into his eyes and then sighed deeply. She turned to Émer.

  “Have no fear, Émer, daughter of Forgall. He will leave me for you. It is right, for it is you that have the greater love.”

  Fand blew softly on Cú Chulainn and the warrior frowned and sat down with his back to a tree and fell asleep.

  “Now it is I who must go,” Fand said softly, and tears were falling from her eyes.

  Émer gazed at her rival sadly. “I see you truly love him, Fand. If this is so, then I will stand aside, for there is nothing the spirit can wish for that you cannot give.”

  And with Émer standing aside, Fand realized just how much Émer loved Cú Chulainn.

  Then there was a soft sighing of the wind and a great silver chariot appeared in the forest clearing. A tall, handsome young man alighted from it. He had a noble and gentle face and he looked on them in sadness and understanding.

  “Oh, my husband!” cried Fand. “It is Manánnan, god of the oceans. You were once dearer to me than the world we shared. You forsook me and I sought love elsewhere. Once we shared our lives and passed them in an unending dream.”

  Émer knelt before the radiant god who came and stood looking down at Cú Chulainn.

  “He is a noble man, this son of Lugh,” he sighed. “You chose a noble love, Fand, but he is loved already.” He turned back to Fand. “We shared the same love which Émer gives to her husband. I, like him, sought a new toy to play with. I have learnt maturity. We could love again. Will you leave this land of mortals for the Otherworld and the pleasures of the Pleasant Plain?”

  Fand gazed at Cú Chulainn with such distress and pain as no mortal could suffer. “I have done great harm here,” she said to Émer. “I do love him, but there is no one else to whom I would release him. By standing aside for me, I know you love him well.”

  “Fand,” demanded Manánnan, “what is it that you will do? Will you come away with me or stay here until Cú Chulainn comes to you?”