Now the king of Hesperides had three daughters who were sorceresses and when they heard the news, they transformed themselves into three griffins and pursued the hawks, breathing great tongues of fire after them. So fierce were the flames that the hawks were burnt and blinded and could bear the heat no longer. Then Brían used his Druid’s lore and changed them into swans who were able to glide down to the sea. The griffins, confused, flew off, still looking for the hawks and the sons of Tuirenn made their way back to the Wave-sweeper.
Next, they commanded the boat to take them to Greece and entered the harbour close to the palace of Tuis.
Brían’s brothers wanted him to disguise them as animals but he told them that poets from Inisfáil were well respected in Greece and they would go up to the king’s palace and present themselves as such. Indeed, this was truly thought out, for the guards allowed the three “poets” into the king’s palace. Tuis himself greeted them and invited them to a great feast. At the end of the feast, the king’s poets rose and recited their poems. Then the sons of Tuirenn were invited to recite.
Brían stood up and intoned these verses.
I conceal not your fame, o Tuis
Great as an oak among kings,
A pigskin is a reward without meanness,
And this I claim in return for this poem.
A war may come when warriors clash
A war may be averted by a gift
And he who gives without fear,
Shall lose nothing.
A stormy army and tempestuous sea
Are weapons that no one would oppose,
But a pigskin, a reward freely given
Is that which we claim.
“It sounds an excellent poem,” mused Tuis, “yet I do not understand it.”
“I will interpret it,” smiled Brían. “It means that as an oak excels above others trees, so do you in kingship. We claim the pigskin you have as a reward for our poem, but if it is refused it means that there will be a war between us.”
Tuis stared in surprise.
“I would like your poem if you had not mentioned my magical pigskin. You seem a foolish man, poet, to ask for it. I would even refuse the kings and warriors of your land, had they demanded it. So now I refuse you. Yet your poem is good and I will reward you with gold. And three times in gold what that pigskin will hold will be your fee.”
“Generous as you are, king,” Brían laughed, “let us watch while the gold is measured in the skin.”
The king agreed and the sons of Tuirenn were brought to the treasure house and the skin was brought from its special place. And when the skinfuls of gold were weighed, Brían suddenly grabbed the skin, drawing his sword and cutting clean off the arm of the man who held the skin. He wrapped the skin about himself and the three brothers fought their way from the palace. In rage and fury, Tuis and his court attacked them but not one noble nor champion of Greece was able to halt them. Tuis himself fell before the slashing sword of Brían.
They fought their way back to the Wave-sweeper and straightaway they called on it to take them to Persia. It was agreed that the disguise of poets worked well for them and so they presented themselves to the court of Pisear in the same manner. Once more they were asked to recite a poem and Brían did so.
Small esteem of any spear with Pisear
His enemies are already broken
Pisear has little cause for worry
Since it is others who receive wounds.
The yew is the finest tree in the fores
The yew is king without opposition
May the great spear shafts drive on
Through the wounds of those they slay.
When Pisear asked Brían to spell out the meaning of the poem, Brían told him that he wanted his magic spear in payment for the poem.
When Pisear threatened to kill him and his brothers for audacity, Brían remembered that he had one of the apples of Hesperides with him. He took it from his bag and threw it at Pisear, so hard that it knocked the king’s head off, then returned safely to his hand. Then Brían and his brothers drew their swords and fought their way to the room where the blazing spear was kept in its great cauldron of blood, hissing and bubbling. They took it and went back to the Wave-sweeper.
On they went to Dobhar’s kingdom of Siogair. Here they appeared before his court as three champions of Inisfáil, seeking hospitality. When asked what they wanted, they told Dobhar the king that they would serve him for payment. They spent a long time in Siogair, because they were unable to find the steeds and the chariot, which were faster than the winds of spring. Finally, Brían tricked the king into ordering that the chariot be brought to the court, harnessed and ready.
And when the sons of Tuirenn turned and demanded the prancing horses and the beautiful chariot as the price for their service, Dobhar flew into a rage and ordered his guards to kill them.
Brían sprang into the chariot, hurling the charioteer to the ground. He took the reins in his hands and unloosed the spear of Pisear so that the guards of Dobhar were slain and those who were not simply fled. And with Iuchar and Iucharba behind him, Brían drove the chariot back to the waiting Wave-sweeper.
Next, the magic boat of Manánnan Mac Lir brought them to the land of the Golden Pillars, the entrance of the Middle Sea, where Easal ruled. And when they came to the shore they saw great armies gathered, for now the fame of the deeds of the sons of Tuirenn had travelled before them, and news of their banishment from Inisfáil and the nature of their tasks had preceded them.
Easal the king came down to the harbour to meet them and he demanded to know if it was true that they had come for his swine. They told him it was. Now Easal was a peaceful man and he went and sat in council with his chieftains. Eventually, they decided that they would hand the swine to the sons of Tuirenn to avoid the slaughter of the innocent. That night, Easal invited the brothers to a feasting, where the seven pigs were handed to them. Brían sang a paean in praise of Easal’s wisdom and generosity.
When Easal learnt that the sons of Tuirenn were going next to the country of Ioruaidh, the king asked that he be allowed to accompany them, for his daughter was the wife of the king of Ioruaidh. Easal promised, in return, to do his best to secure the hound-pup from the king, his son-in-law, without bloodshed.
The king of Ioruaidh would have none of Easal’s advice. “You may be weak, old man, but the gods have not given strength or luck enough to any warrior to take my hound-pup by force.”
Easal was saddened, for he knew what bloodshed and mayhem would follow.
A great and bloody battle began. And Brían cleaved through the warriors of Ioruaidh, throwing them back by nine times one hundred, until he reached the spot where the king of Ioruaidh stood. And he picked up the king bodily and fought his way back until he threw the craven man at Easal’s feet.
“There is your daughter’s husband, o king. It would have been easier to kill him than to return with him alive.”
The warriors of Ioruaidh, seeing their king defeated, threw down their arms. And the king of Ioruaidh now heeded the peaceful tones of Easal and handed over the hound-pup and the sons of Tuirenn took their leave in friendship.
Now only two tasks remained to be filled.
They were to find the cooking spit of Fianchuibhe and give three shouts on the Hill of Miodchaoin.
But so excited were they at their successes that they forgot about the last two tasks. Some have it that Lugh Lámhfada had prevailed upon his Druid to send a cloud of forgetfulness to seep into the brothers’ minds after they had left Ioruaidh.
Whatever the cause, the Wave-sweeper returned to Inisfáil. Lugh heard of their coming and was suddenly troubled, for he had followed the successes of the sons of Tuirenn with mixed feelings. He was happy that these gifts that they had secured were for him, but apprehensive that they might be turned against him. He was also bitter because the brothers were fulfilling the conditions of the eric fine which he had devised to cause their deaths.
So when th
e Wave-sweeper entered the mouth of the Boyne river, Lugh went to the fort of Cathair Crofinn and armed himself with the magical armour of the Ocean god, Manánnan, who was his foster-father. He also put on the cloak of invisibility of Fea the Hateful, one of the goddesses of war. For Lugh also feared their coming, thinking the three brothers might mean him harm now that they possessed such wonderful weapons.
And when they sent word to Lugh, asking him to come and take his eric fine, Lugh sent back asking that they hand over the spoils to the Bodb Dearg, son of The Dagda, who had now succeeded Lugh as ruler of the Children of Danu. Only when the Bodb Dearg reported that he had control of the wondrous gifts did Lugh emerge and come to examine them.
“But where is the cooking spit?” demanded Lugh, “And I did not hear the three shouts on the Hill of Miodchaoin.”
The sons of Tuirenn then remembered and they were sorely grieved. So they left and spent a night with their father Tuirenn and sister Eithne, at their fortress at Ben Eadair. Now they did not have the benefit of the magical ship the Wave-sweeper, for they had foolishly surrendered it to Lugh. So they set sail in an ordinary ship, in search of Fianchuibhe. However, the task was a long one. For three months they searched, visiting many islands and asking many travellers if they knew of such a place. No one knew.
Finally, they met an old man, toothless and without eyes, for there were so many wrinkles and folds of flesh on his walnut-coloured face that they were hidden. He told them that the island of Fianchuibhe did not lie on the surface of the sea but deep down in its depths.
Brían, telling Iuchar and Iuchara to wait for him, leapt over the side of their ship and sank down into the waves. For two periods of nine days he walked the ocean bed in his search and found many houses, and great palaces. Then he entered a house with its doors open, where one hundred and fifty beautiful women were engaged in needlework and embroidery. In the middle of them lay a cooking spit.
Brían saw that the women neither moved nor spoke as he entered. So, without more ado, he walked to the spit, seized it, turned and walked out. At that point the women all burst out laughing. They rose and surrounded Brían, who saw they had a formidable assortment of weapons.
“Brave man, are you Brían, son of Tuirenn? There are one hundred and fifty of us here, every one a warrior, and each one of us able to slay you. But you are brave and courageous to make this attempt, knowing the dangers. You shall be rewarded. Take the spit, for this is one of many which we have.”
And Brían thanked them and swam upwards to the ship in which his brothers were anxiously waiting. They were overjoyed.
They turned the ship northward now to the great fjords of Lochlainn, for that is what the name means, the place of lochs and fjords. They saw the great hill of Miodchaoin rising upwards and, leaving their ship, they walked to the bottom of it. But there, on the massive slopes, stood Miodchaoin, who was a mighty warrior.
Miodchaoin saw Brían and unsheathed his great sword.
“Killer of my friend and foster-brother Cian! Now you have come to shout upon this hill. You will do that deed only when I am dead.”
Brían flew at Miodchaoin and the two great warriors set about one another. So fierce was their onslaught that the ringing of the swords upon their shields could be heard in every corner of the world. No quarter was asked nor given, until Miodchaoin fell dead with Brían’s sword thrust through his giant heart.
Then the three sons of Miodchaoin, Aedh, Corca and Conn, having heard the noise of battle, came racing up and fell on the three sons of Tuirenn. The sky reddened and blackened, blood flowed from that mountain slope like the gushing waters of a mountain spring, and the earth trembled from the stamping of their feet, even as far to the East as Hesperides.
For three days and three nights the great combat shook the mountains of Lochlainn. Then the sons of Miodchaoin managed to find the flesh of the sons of Tuirenn with their spear points. Each one of the sons of Tuirenn, Brían, Iuchar and Iucharba, were pierced and wounded. Yet the sons of Tuirenn would not give in, for they thrust their spears into the bodies of Aedh, Corca and Conn and the three sons of Miodchaoin fell dead.
The sons of Tuirenn fell on the blood-stained grass and it seemed that a heavy veil of darkness was being drawn before their eyes. It was Brían, coughing blood, who called faintly: “Brothers, how is it with you?”
“Dead are we,” they gasped. “Or as near it as makes no difference.”
“We must climb the hill and give three shouts before death claims us,” replied Brían. “Only then may we rest in peace.”
With Brían supporting his two brothers on his mighty arms, the three went forward up the steep slopes, stumbling and moving as in a dream, until they reached the summit. Then they paused and gave three shouts; weak as they were, they were shouts nevertheless.
Brían, still supporting his brothers, then guided them to the ship and they turned her prow for Inisfáil.
In a delirium, they drifted and drifted towards the distant island. Suddenly Brían raised his head. “I see Ben Eadair and the fort of our father, Tuirenn.”
His brothers raised their heads so that they might see the green hills of their home before they died. The ship gently nudged ashore and Tuirenn came down with Eithne to greet his sons.
“Father, take the spit to Lugh,” instructed Brían, “and tell him that the three shouts on the Hill of Miodchaoin have been given.”
And Tuirenn mounted his chariot and rode to Tara with the news. And he pleaded with Lugh to loan him the magic pigskin of Tuis which would heal the sick and wounded, or one of the apples of Hesperides, but Lugh refused him coldly. And Tuirenn returned to his dying sons and lamented:
If all the jewels of the world
Were given to Lugh to ease his anger
It would not be enough to save you
From a gloomy grave.
But Brían asked to be taken before Lugh, and when Lugh stood before him, the dying warrior begged for the magic pigskin, for humanity’s sake.
“I will not give it,” replied Lugh. “If you offer me the entire world and the wonders it contains, I would not give it. Your death must follow. You killed Cian, and denied him even when he pleaded for his life. You killed him cruelly and nothing less than your own deaths will compensate that deed.”
So Brían returned to his dying brothers and they were laid down side by side. United, the sons of Tuirenn sighed together for the last time and their souls sped onwards by that breath into the Otherworld.
Eithne stood with her father, hand in hand, and sang a doleful lament over the bodies of her brothers. Then both she and her father Tuirenn, overcome with grief, fell beside the bodies, and departed this earth with them.
3 The Children of Lir
It happened after the Tuatha Dé Danaan, the gods and goddesses of Éireann, were defeated by the mortal sons of Míle Easpain. No one can now recall the circumstances of the conflict, except that there was a great battle fought at Tailtiu, which is now called Telltown on the north bank of the River Blackwater, in Co. Meath. A great fair was held there in ancient times and this fair was sacred to the goddess Tailtiu, who was foster-mother to the magnificent Lugh of the Long Hand. Blood stained the fields of Tailtiu for many a year thereafter, for there was a great slaughter in that place. The mortals drove the Ever-Living Ones from the face of the earth so that, ever after, they went to live in the sídhe – the hills – and, being lost in people’s memories, they became “the people of the hills”, or simply fairies.
But this was some distance in the future from the time of the sad tale of Lir’s children.
It was soon after the devastation of Tailtiu that the remnants of the Tuatha Dé Danaan gathered and decided to choose a new king to rule them. The Dagda, the good god, who had ruled before, had told them that, as he had brought about their downfall, he was not fit to continue to lead them. So they choose the Bodb Dearg, who was the son of The Dagda, and he dwelt in the Sídh of Femen, which is now Slievenamon in Co. Tipperary. It fell
to the Bodb Dearg to allocate the hills to the other gods and goddesses, and these were to become as their dwelling places. To Lir, the god of the ocean, fell the Sídh Fionnachaidh, that is now Deadman’s Hill in Co. Armagh.
Now Lir thought he should have been chosen as ruler over all the Children of Danu, and was filled with anger and envy at the decision. He left the assembly of the gods and goddesses so angry that he would talk to no one. He showed neither respect nor homage to the Bodb Dearg.
The gods and goddesses became angry with him and were all for raising a host and marching against him. But it was the Bodb Dearg himself who prevented them.
“We have shed enough blood against the Milesians,” he told them. “Let us not continue shedding blood among ourselves. Because Lir does not bow his knee to me, it does not make me any the less your king. Let me go and reason with him.”
The gods and goddesses of Éireann were impressed by the compassion and wisdom of the Bodb Dearg and pleased that they had made him their ruler.
It was a while before the Bodb Dearg approached Lir, for he knew it best to let the anger die away first. Indeed, while he was waiting, it happened that Lir’s wife, the mother of his magnificent son Manánnan Mac Lir, had died. Lir became lonely and bitter. More lonely was he because no other god nor goddess would visit him at his sídh, for they refused to speak with him after he had walked out of the assembly.
After the appropriate period of mourning, the Bodb Dearg sent greetings to Lir.
“This is the time when one stands in need of friends and kind counsel,” Bodb Dearg told his fellows.
The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends Page 6