The Legends

by Robert E. Connolly

  BOOK ONE: THE AGE OF CELTIC HEROES

  CHAPTER ONE

  Cúchulainn was dead. Cúchulainn, the greatest champion of Ireland’s Heroic Age, the most famous of the legendary Red Branch knights was dead, poisoned by the black magic of a scorned and defeated enemy.

  “A mere scratch,” the great champion thought as the lance creased his side, but soon the poison, which tipped the spear made its way toward his heart. Shortly after, Cúchulainn felt a weakness he never before experienced and he knew that the end was near. With the last ounces of his once magnificent strength he dragged himself toward a small lake where he bent down and took a sip of the clear cold water. As the water cooled his fevered head, he saw a pillar on the edge of the lake marking the grave of some long fallen hero. The grave marker, chiseled from grey granite, was about five feet in height well worn by the wind and the rain. Cúchulainn dragged himself to the stone pillar and pulled his dying body erect for the last time. He then passed the leather strap from the empty quiver across his back around the pillar where it caught in a crack near the top.

  As his body slumped, the leather caught and he defied death one last time. Cúchulainn raised his sword to the heavens. With his last ounce of energy he lifted his head and loudly proclaimed to the cowards that lurked nearby, “You may claim my body but never my spirit. I am Cúchulainn and I will live forever.”

  And then, Cúchulainn was dead. His lifeless body stood tied to the pillar while his precious lifeblood flowed into the shallows of the lake. Even his golden red hair hung limp and lifeless while a crow perched on his shoulder waited to pluck his eyes. A safe distance away his murderers stood watch, still fearful that the famous hero might somehow be rescued by his mythical ancestors and wrack terrible vengeance for their cowardly act in poisoning a man they could not defeat. Fortunately for them, vengeance would wait.

  Cúchulainn’s last conscious act was to tie himself to that gravestone so that he would die as he had lived, with courage and honor, sword in hand, facing his enemy. Even in death he had one last surprise for the cowardly villains who gloated over their dastardly deed. When Lugaid, one of the murderers, finally moved forward to take the great hero’s head, Cúchulainn’s sword dropped from his hand and cut off Lugaid’s sword welding hand.

  Apart from Lugaid’s screams, an unnatural quiet fell over the countryside. The breeze stopped singing through the trees, the birds fell silent and even the insects made no sound. It was as if all of nature was shocked into silence by what had just occurred, a silence, which would only be broken by a country’s mourning the loss of its greatest hero.

  In truth, while the word of his death spread quickly, few could actually believe that Cúchulainn’s spirit departed from the world. Cúchulainn was, after all, born to greatness and although his deeds were legendary, he was still a young man. Surely the bards and poets had only just begun to record his noble exploits.

  There were even those who said that Cúchulainn was not completely human. The records might show that the mighty hero, who was originally called Setanta, was the son of Sualtim and his wife Dechtire, but those who spoke with whispers and nods told a different story. It seemed that on her wedding night, Dechtire was spirited away by the god Lugh Lámhfáda—Lugh of the Long Hand—to his fairy fortress near the River Boyne. When Dechtire was returned to her husband, she was already with child, and no mere mortal child was he.

  While half of his lineage might have been supernatural, the other half was unquestionably regal. The boy’s mother, Dechtire, was the sister of Conchubar, the King of Ulster and daughter of Cathbad, the greatest druid of the times. Through Dechtire's veins also flowed the blood of the legendary Tuatha De Danann, a noble race who had in a previous century departed the land and created a powerful kingdom under the ground where they became immortal. Despite their departure, the Tuatha De Danann occasionally intervened in human matters so that all connections with those in the mortal world were not lost and also to ensure the survival of the human race. And so it was that another god, Dagda, was Dechtire’s great grandfather, and as a result deified blood flowed through Cúchulainn’s veins from both of his parents.

  From his early days, Sualtim and Dechtire reared Setanta but the custom among the Celts was that children were fostered to other families. As a result a child would not only have his own family but also foster parents, brothers and sisters creating a strong bond between families. As was customary, Morann, the chief judge and poet of Ulster decreed that when Setanta reached a sensible age, King Conchubar himself would foster the boy because, after all, royal blood flowed through Setanta’s veins. From his earliest days, Setanta had been regaled with tales of the heroism of the king’s champions, the Red Branch Knights. Setanta knew that all of these great heroes began their training in the court of the king and because of this no greater honor could be bestowed on a young boy. And so, Setanta dreamed of the day when he too would commence his training and, perhaps one day, join the noble band of champions, the Knights of the Red Branch.

  Setanta was only seven when he decided he was old enough to get on with his training and, taking his bronze hurley and silver ball with him, he set off for his uncle’s court at Emain Macha near the present day city of Armagh. To pass the time, young Setanta flipped the ball in the air and drove it as far as he could and then he raced under it to intercept the ball before it dropped. During the entire journey the ball never once touched the ground.

  When Setanta arrived at King Conchubar’s hill fort at Emain Macha, he stopped when he saw a large group of older boys in the midst of a hurling match on a field below the fort. He watched for a moment until he could judge the skill demonstrated by the participants. A short time later, Setanta walked among them and when the ball fell to his feet, he expertly flipped it onto the end of his hurley and balancing the ball on the end of his club, he began a long solo run. Despite the slashes and tackles of both teams, he weaved his way down the field until he smashed the ball into the back of the net. The older boys were not amused and began to attack the little fellow with their hurleys, but Setanta fended them off with his own hurley, Eventually Fergus, one of the king’s champions and a famous Red Branch Knight, rescued the boy and brought him before Conchubar. Setanta was properly introduced to his uncle the king and when Fergus told the story of the solo run and the boy’s courage against the older boys, Conchubar agreed that the time was right for Setanta’s training to begin.

  Only a short time later King Conchubar was invited to a feast at Slieve Gallion, the home of Culann, a famous blacksmith well known for making the finest weapons in all of Ulster. As a nephew of the king, Setanta was also invited but he was in the middle of a hurling match and received permission to arrive after the match finished. Conchubar arrived at Culann’s house and when the host asked whether the entire party had arrived, Conchubar forgot all about Setanta, and told Culann that they had. Culann closed the gates and set his great hound loose to protect his guests from anyone who might attack while the party was going strong.

  Now the hound of Culann, the fiercest beast in Ireland, was known to have the strength of one hundred men and no one was likely to challenge his fierce jaws. With such protection, Culann’s guests could freely drink the mead he offered, knowing that they would not be called on to defend themselves while they were impaired by alcohol.

  Eventually, Setanta arrived at Culann’s house, armed only with his hurley and ball. Just after he passed through the gate, and turned to make sure it was secure, Setanta heard a low growl. Slowly turning around, the young boy was confronted with the most fearsome set of teeth he ever saw.

  Thinking quickly, Setanta spoke quietly to the animal, “There’s a fine dog, taking such good care of the house aren’t you…. good doggie, there’s a good doggie.�
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  The beast was momentarily confused at the boy’s apparent lack of fear and for a time the teeth were no longer visible and the growling stopped. The great hound tilted his head to the right and left, inspecting the small intruder who seemed to have no fear. Hoping for the best, Setanta began to slowly make his way around the hound, but the movement snapped the dog out of his confusion and reminded him of his duty. Soon the growls turned into frenzied barking. The guests heard the hound’s barking and assuming an attack ran out to discover what was happening.

  When the door was thrown open, Culann and his guests saw the young boy standing immobile while the mighty hound began his attack. Since the gate was some distance from the door there was little they could do except watch in horror, knowing that the small boy would certainly be torn to pieces. The confrontation ended in a matter of seconds and yet to the witnesses, it seemed like time slowed and every movement was seared on their minds and memories.

  The great hound took three quick steps and launched himself into air, intent on clamping his mighty jaws around the boy’s throat. Setanta courageously stood his ground and then, at the last instant, took one step back, flipped his hard leather ball into air and took a mighty swing. The shot was meant to hit the beast in the head, knocking him unconscious but at the last instant the dog opened his mouth and the ball passed through the gaping jaws, flew down the throat of the beast and into his heart, killing the mighty hound. The dog that very nearly killed the young boy was dead before he hit the ground but Setanta was horrified at what he had done. He immediately ran to the animal, and began rubbing his head in a vain attempt to bring life to his adversary but, of course, no amount of care could bring the dog back.

  Meanwhile, the entire party stood in shocked silence, amazed at the strength and courage of the little boy. While everyone was relieved that the boy survived, Culann, who lost his prize guard-dog, was angry that he would have no dog to guard his house. Even though he would surely have been killed had he not defended himself, Setanta took full responsibility for the dog’s death and he volunteered to train another dog from the same line as the slain beast. While the dog was being trained, Setanta announced that he himself would guard Culann’s home. When everyone agreed that this was a fair outcome, Cathbad the Druid declared that from that day on, Setanta would be called Cúchulainn, which means “Hound of Culann.”

  After fulfilling his promise to Culann, Cúchulainn trained diligently under Fergus and the rest of Conchubar’s champions and in only a few years, he decided that he was ready to take up arms. This opinion was undoubtedly not shared by either his teachers or the older boys who were much closer to completing their training. One day, Cúchulainn overheard Cathbad the Druid tell the senior students that if any of the young men took up arms for the first time that day, his name would be greater than any other name in Ireland, but his life-span would be short. Now that suited Cúchulainn who was not the slightest bit worried about a short life span but knew he was destined to be a great hero. Cúchulainn approached Conchubar the King and told him that he was taking up arms that very day. Conchubar smiled at the little fellow and said, “Whoever put that idea into your head?”

  When Cúchulainn replied that it was Cathbad the Druid, Conchubar responded, “Well, if Cathbad thinks the time is right, I have no reason to think otherwise.”

  With that, Conchubar ordered that Cúchulainn be given a sword, spears and a shield. Cúchulainn tested several weapons but found that they were weak and they broke in his hands. Finally Conchubar presented Cúchulainn with his own weapons and the young boy agreed that they were strong and true. When Cathbad the Druid saw Cúchulainn with his arms he commented to Conchubar that it seemed the boy was a little too young to take up arms.

  Conchubar replied, “Sure wasn’t it you who told him to take up arms?”

  “You must be joking,” Cathbad responded, “why he’s only a little boy.”

  Cúchulainn was immediately called before the king and the chief druid and he was severely scolded for not telling the truth. Cúchulainn however, was not intimidated and he stood his ground. “With due respect Great Cathbad, I did hear you say that whoever took up arms for the first time this day would have a name greater than any name in Ireland, and that is exactly what I did. So I did not lie to Conchubar, when he asked me who put the idea into my head. In truth, Cathbad, you did put the idea into my head.”

  Neither Conchubar nor Cathbad could find fault in what Cúchulainn had said and done so the young boy became the youngest person ever to take up arms and shortly after, he began his career as a great champion. Cúchulainn soon reddened his sword against all measure of brigands and thieves who threatened the safety and security of his beloved Ulster. He was still a young man when he became one of the twelve great knight heroes of Conchubar’s Red Branch. So great was his skill that he thought nothing about attacking as many as a hundred enemies at one time. The reason he was able to do this was that Cúchulainn had inherited certain gifts, perhaps from his birth father, the immortal, Lugh of the Long Hand.

  Among them was the salmon leap, which enabled Cúchulainn to spring a great distance, perhaps over a river or over a wall, to attack an enemy. The other gift was a fury, which came over him in times of struggle. When the fury, or red mist as it became known, came over Cúchulainn, he entered another dimension and his mortal body seemed to disappear to be replaced by a blinding light. At such times he moved with incredible speed and the only thing an opponent would see was the flash of sword or spear that would end the enemy’s life. These were mighty gifts that Cúchulainn seldom employed in single combat but reserved for those moments when his enemy attacked in mass or without honor or when his life was in mortal peril.

  Perhaps the campaign that made the name Cúchulainn famous as the greatest champion in the history of Ireland occurred during the war for the Brown Bull of Cooley. While this battle was his greatest triumph, it also created for Cúchulainn a mortal enemy who would eventually cause his death. What happened was that Ailell and Maeve, the King and Queen of Connaught, were having an argument over who brought the most wealth to that province. When everything was added up, Maeve discovered that Ailell owned one fine bull that she could not match in her list of possessions. She was so determined to win the argument with her husband that Maeve sent her messengers throughout the country to locate the finest bull anywhere. As it happened, a great brown bull was discovered in Cooley, near the present town of Carlingford so Maeve attempted to acquire the bull. When the owner told her he wouldn’t sell his prize animal Maeve decided to invade Ulster and take the bull by force.

  Maeve knew that the army of Ulster would be unable to stop her because Conchubar and his entire court were under a spell that took all their energy leaving them asleep most of the time. The spell was punishment for mistreating a woman who was about to have a baby and so, in truth, it was justified. Of all the knights, only Cúchulainn was spared because he had settled with his wife Emer near the present day city of Dundalk and had not been in the king’s court when the incident occurred.

  As a result when Queen Maeve attacked, only Cúchulainn stood between the coveted brown bull and the entire army of Connaught. Almost immediately armies from the provinces of Munster and Leinster, which pledged their support to Connaught, joined Maeve in the attack.

  At first, Cúchulainn waged a guerrilla type war, disposing of the various scouts Maeve sent out. Soon she began sending champions to finish the job, but these men met with a similar fate. Still, however, Maeve’s army moved forward into Ulster toward Cooley, the home of the great brown bull. Because she was losing so many men and champions to Cúchulainn, Maeve decided to negotiate with the young champion. First, she tried to bribe Cúchulainn to change his allegiance but this offer offended Cúchulainn’s sense of honor and so he refused. Maeve then struck a bargain, which she hoped would save her army.

  Cúchulainn agreed to fight one champion each day and while the fight was on, Maeve’s army would be allowed to proceed wit
hout delay. If Cúchulainn was successful in defeating the champion, Maeve’s army would be required to halt their march until the next day and the next champion. After all, Maeve concluded, it is better to lose one man each day than to lose one hundred every night, especially as her army could move while the battle progressed. Certainly, she assumed, even if Cúchulainn was successful it would take at least several hours for him to defeat her champions. In that case the bull might well be hers before she even needed to dispose of Cúchulainn.

  In the days and weeks that followed champion after champion fell to Cúchulainn’s sword and spear. So quickly did he dispose of Maeve’s soldiers that her army barely broke camp when they had to stop for the day. Eventually Maeve became impatient, broke her promise and began to send two and three men against Cúchulainn, but he destroyed them all. Of course all this fighting began to take its toll on the great champion who was wounded many times and lost a great deal of blood.

  Just as it appeared that he could fight no more, Cúchulainn’s father, Lugh of the Long Hand, appeared from his fairy fort in the nether world and stood guard to protect his son while Cúchulainn recovered. While Lugh was reluctant to intervene in human affairs, even on behalf of his son, he was angry that Maeve had broken her word and he was not about to let his son die a slow and painful death as a result of this treachery. While Lugh stood guard, he also brought women especially trained in the healing arts who treated Cúchulainn’s wounds with special herbs so the when the young warrior awoke three days later he was refreshed and cured.

  In his absence, however, the boy troop of Ulster, made up of the sons of Ulster champions, stood in Cúchulainn’s place and fought against Maeve’s army. These boys had not participated in dishonoring the pregnant woman so no spell was cast over them. Although they were able to fight, they were mere children fighting against seasoned champions. Unfortunately, although they fought gallantly and killed many of the enemy, the entire boy’s army was destroyed by the strength and experience of Maeve’s champions. Their supreme sacrifice purchased Ulster the time Cúchulainn needed to recover and as a result Maeve’s army had not moved forward.