The Legends

by Robert E. Connolly

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Maeve’s company of champions rode steadily to the east for two days arriving in the present day County Louth just as the sun was setting. They knew well that their every move was being tracked by scouts sent out by nobles loyal to King Conchubar. On the other hand, because they were travelling in what was effectively a “no-man’s land” near the border between Ulster and Leinster their presence was unlikely raise any great alarm. Although twenty champions was a significant force, it was hardly an army. As such, it required monitoring but would not be considered a threat, unless it took some aggressive action. Fineen, who led the detachment, realized that questions were being asked about his presence but he knew that if his command moved slowly and purposefully, he would be less likely to be challenged. After all cattle raiders would not bypass prosperous farms in the Boyne Valley, which were much closer to Connaught. Lacking any distinctively aggressive purpose, Fineen’s force would be seen only as travelers from Connaught to an ally in either Leinster or Munster.

  After setting up camp within sight of the Boyne, Fineen sent his own scouts out to talk to the local people and, hopefully discover the whereabouts of his prey. As it happened, he had little difficulty in discovering that Cathbad had taken Cúchulainn’s sons to Emain Macha. After all, the events of the last several days were on the lips of the many travelers who were returning from the funeral for the great hero and his wife and they saw little danger in sharing the gossip with anyone else they might encounter.

  Fineen considered this intelligence in trying to decide on his next move. While it might have been safe enough for Fineen to travel toward Dundalk, a turn north in the direction of Emain Macha would arguably be seen as hostile and would create difficulties for his relatively small force. After all, Emain Macha was well fortified and the arrival of Maeve’s champions would certainly be met with a show of force, particularly in light of Cúchulainn’s death at her hand.

  Rather than make a wrong move and risking not only the wrath of his queen, but also quite possibly his head, Fineen sent a mounted messenger back to Cruachan to seek specific orders from Queen Maeve. The following morning he moved a bit further south and away from Ulster and set up his camp while awaiting her response.

  When Maeve heard the messenger’s report the following day, she was not particularly surprised. The infant sons of any dead hero, and undoubtedly the sons of a famous Red Branch Knight would hardly be left in a residential dwelling without a champion to protect it. The most likely destination for such infants would obviously be the stronghold of Ulster’s King especially since Cúchulainn was Conchubar’s nephew. In sending Fineen and his men out, Maeve hoped to move against a soft target like Dundalk if Conchubar was slow in relocating the children. Even if the twins were no longer there, they might have been able to intercept the children as they travelled to Emain Macha. Since the boys had been moved quickly there was little her champions could have done about it and even she could find no fault in their actions.

  Resigned as she was to the message she actually received, Maeve spared the messenger, even though he bore bad tidings and Maeve deplored bad tidings. She had far more important things to consider, the first of which was some other way to kidnap Cúchulainn’s whelps. A lesser woman, or one not so driven by revenge, would probably have conceded that the twins were beyond her reach. A lesser woman would have bided her time until an opportunity presented itself to either capture or kill the children. Maeve, however, was not such a woman so she considered the various possibilities.

  An attack on Emain Macha was totally out of the question. Even if she were to make it through miles of hostile territory to the gate of the fortress, Conchubar’s stronghold was heavily fortified. Quite apart from that, her forces were still weakened from their previous battles with Ulster and it was unlikely that her allies in Leinster and Munster would respond favorably to another campaign.

  Maeve ultimately decided that if she were to succeed in her goal of capturing the infants, it would have to be by trickery or deceit. Now that was certainly not something that was difficult for her to contemplate. Before even planning an operation, Maeve knew that she needed better intelligence and so she sent her spies into Conchubar’s stronghold at Emain Macha. At the same time, she sent a messenger to Fineen instructing him to remain encamped within striking distance of Emain Macha and await further instructions. Maeve reasoned that if she was, somehow, able to spirit the babies out of Conchubar’s fortress, perhaps by simply snatching the infants when no one was looking, her force of champions could escort the children back to Connaught.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cathbad spent the night and much of the day in the sacred oak grove sleeping, meditating and seeking wisdom from the spirits. Late in the afternoon the great druid slowly rose and raising his eyes toward the tops of the towering trees, he expressed his gratitude for their indulgence. Head down with hands locked behind his back, Cathbad slowly returned to Emain Macha. He knew exactly what he would say and do.

  When Cathbad entered the great hall it seemed that nothing had changed from the previous evening. Conchubar’s entire court was gathered and everyone returned to nearly the same spot they had occupied twenty four hours earlier. An even greater crowd gathered outside because the word quickly spread that Cathbad was going to announce his decision. Soon after Cathbad took his place near Conchubar’s chair, the king arrived, shuffling slowly from his resting place at the back of the great round house.

  When everyone settled, Morann raised his hand for silence. As chief judge he would preside over the meeting and he began by summarizing what had occurred. “As our noble king has stated, the time has come to make a decision, whether it be right or wrong. We have discussed the vision revealed to Cathbad and we have agreed that these infants’ destiny does not lie in the world, as we know it. I have the greatest faith and confidence in my brother Cathbad. No one has served our people so long and so well, without any thought of personal favor or gain. I think it a measure of Cathbad’s greatness that he came before us to seek clarity rather than making a pronouncement about which he was not completely confident. Our extended discussions of Cathbad’s vision have not eliminated any possibility so all we now know is that Fergus and Ferdia’s destinies, great though they may be, may not unfold before us.”

  Most of those gathered, nodded their heads agreeing with the summary.

  Morann continued, “Cathbad has now consulted with the spirits, meditated on the problem and he has considered an appropriate course of action. I now call upon Cathbad to impart to us his wisdom and counsel.”

  Rising stiffly from his chair Cathbad looked over the assembly and stroked his beard nodding toward the chief judge before beginning, “Thank you my friend for your kind words. I trust that you will understand not only what I believe to be the appropriate course, but the reason I think it proper.”

  “First, I believe there are two possible courses of action. The first is to do nothing but allow the children to grow and develop hoping that their destinies will become clearer in time. Unfortunately, since neither Conchubar nor I will be alive to provide guidance we must rely on others to rear the children and, perhaps more importantly, protect them from any revenge Maeve might chose to extract. If I were to choose this course, the lives of these infants would be at risk for at least as long as they are unable to protect themselves. Maeve will doubtlessly consider that the day will come when Cúchulainn’s sons will be a threat to her life. She might well decide to terminate the potential threat before it becomes real. Remember, Maeve with her black magic, turned the head of Cúchulainn’s best friend, Ferdia, and she is also responsible for the death of Cúchulainn himself. She presents a formidable threat to the young boys’ lives, even if they could rely on the protection of Conchubar or me.”

  Cathbad paused allowing those present to consider what he said and again there were general murmurs of agreement. One young trainee druid rose and timidly asked, “But if the children’s destinies are to be great cha
mpions, how can it be that they might be killed by Maeve, or anyone else for that matter, before they attain that destiny?”

  Cathbad was more tolerant in his response than, perhaps, others might have been. “You will learn, my young brother that one’s destiny does not develop in isolation but rather is bound up with the lives and actions of others. Because of this there is no guaranty that that each person’s destiny will be fulfilled. Young boys, like Fergus and Ferdia, might be denied their destiny if those who are responsible for their growth and development, make choices that do not foster and protect their destiny and indeed their lives. Their destiny is particularly at risk while they are unable to make decisions for themselves.”

  “I see,” the young druid said as he sheepishly sunk back down into his sitting mat.

  “It may well be that ultimately, delay is the only course available and the threats to the twin’s lives, are risks that must be taken,” Cathbad stated. “However, the course I have chosen allows for the possibility that these children are being called by their grandfather Lugh of the Long Hand, to discover their destiny in the land of the Tuatha Dé Danann. If that is the case, we may never see these boys again. Sad as that may seem if the world of my vision is the kingdom beneath the earth, that is their destiny and we have no right to deny them what is meant to be.”

  “My decision,” he concluded, “is this. I will first examine the stars to determine a day that is particularly fortunate for these children. On that day, I will take the children to a fairy fort on the banks of the River Boyne and call on Lugh of the Long Hand to take the Cúchulainn’s sons to the world beneath the earth, if that is what is meant to be. If Lugh does not take the children, I will return with them to Emain Macha. Upon my return and we will designate stepparents who will rear and train these boys and chose champions to protect them. If Fergus and Ferdia’s destiny is not to be found with the Tuatha Dé Danann, and we will leave that choice the children’s grandfather perhaps it will then be revealed in the fullness of time.”

  Most of those gathered agreed that Cathbad’s decision was proper, but Mairéad asserting her role as the boys’ protectress, asked in a loud, clear voice, “How do you propose to offer these children to Lugh? If, as you say, Lugh is not interested, I would hope that you will return with a happy and healthy Fergus and Ferdia.”

  Cathbad smiled, “Ah old sister, do you take me for a barbarian? There will be no bloodletting and no harm will come to the children. The choice will be left to the Tuatha de Danann. We have all heard stories of people who were invited into the fairy forts and no physical harm is involved in the process. So it will be with Fergus and Ferdia. They will be presented at the fairy fort and if an invitation is not forthcoming, they will be returned to Emain Macha in the fullness of their health.”

  “I knew a fellow,” a very old man who was prone to storytelling began – to the groans of many present – “who was invited into a fairy fort. He spent one entire night dancing and singing and drinking the finest mead, and when the morning came he awoke with a ferocious headache, lying in the grass outside the fairy fort.”

  A number of those gathered had undoubtedly heard the story on any number of occasions, but out of respect for his age, the old fellow was allowed to continue. “Most peculiar thing though, when he went home to his wife he found that she had been dead for nearly fifty years, so she was. And, the wee children he knew before he went into the fairy fort were now old people. So it seemed that one night with the Tuatha Dé Danann was like many, many years on this earth. Sure didn’t I meet the man himself some years back? What do you make of that?”

  Cathbad responded with a tolerant smile. “Well spoken my friend. I know we are offering Fergus and Ferdia to a world that is so strange we cannot understand even how time passes. But it is also a strange world in which I have seen the boys’ future so we must take whatever steps are necessary to allow them to fulfill their destinies, even if they are to be found in so strange a world. And one thing further, if Lugh of the Long Hand offers his hospitality, the children will be beyond the reach of Maeve and her revenge.”

  For several minutes after Cathbad concluded his remarks, those present spoke among themselves. Cathbad stood looking around the gathering waiting to see if anyone had further questions or comments but it appeared that most of the conversations affirmed the wisdom of his decision. After several minutes Cathbad nodded toward Morann. The chief judge leaned over and spoke quietly to Conchubar who inclined his head to more clearly hear what Morann had to say. After some minutes of contemplation, the king rose from his chair and the entire room was immediately silenced.

  Conchubar looked around and spoke simply, “So be it.” With that, he left the hall.

  The word of Cathbad’s decision to offer the children to their grandfather, Lugh of the Long Hand, quickly passed from the great hall into the courtyard and it soon became the principal subject of conversation throughout the countryside. When Maeve’s spies arrived a few days later they had no difficulty discovering what had been decided. They knew that Maeve would be delighted to hear that the children would be taken from the security of the stronghold. Unfortunately, they would also have to report that no one, even Cathbad himself, knew when the infants would be moved. That, they knew well, would infuriate their queen. They would also have to report that the chance of snatching the children would be remote at best because of all the attention the infants were attracting as they awaited their journey. After some discussion the two men drew lots to determine who would return to Cruachan with the potentially fatal news while the other waited for further developments. As soon as the sun rose, the unfortunate spy headed west to Connaught.

  As the word of the druid’s pronouncement spread everyone gathered at Emain Macha accepted the wisdom of Cathbad and the decision of Conchubar. However, the thought of losing the children as they had lost their parents weighed heavily on those who embraced the responsibility for their care. While there were many tears, Mairéad and the infants’ other caretakers were determined to make the most of the time they had with the little fellows. When they asked Cathbad whether he could tell them how long the children would remain in Emain Macha, they were told simply that the day was nearly upon them so the children should be made ready to travel. Knowing this, each day the old women spent with the children became even more precious.

  Fergus and Ferdia had been alive for only a couple of weeks and already they had lost their parents. Now they faced a future so uncertain that even the identity of the world where they would grow to manhood was entirely unclear. Of course, being infants no one would really expected that they would appreciate their great loss or the nature of the future they faced.

  Surprisingly, however, it appeared that Fergus and Ferdia were aware of far more than might have been expected. The young boys, whose bright blue eyes displayed remarkable awareness for ones so small, appeared to absorb everything that was said in their presence. As a result, it seemed that somehow they knew about their impending trip into the underworld.

  As their principal caretaker, Mairéad attempted to control the gossip, at least in the children’s presence. She tried to explain that Fergus and Ferdia knew what people were saying and the talk could be causing the boys unnecessary worry. This statement was met with a few raised eyebrows and remarks about the old woman’s sanity. However, to keep the peace and in deference to her age and authority, that specific topic of conversation was no longer discussed in the infants’ presence.

  Despite their concerns for the infants’ future, Fergus and Ferdia’s attendants showered them with constant love and affection. It was as if these adoptive grandparents meant to ensure that wherever destiny might take the children, their earliest days would be filled with joy and happiness. Perhaps somehow they would remember and be fortified by this love. During every waking minute, Fergus and Ferdia found themselves snuggled in warm embraces of one old woman or another as each would look on the infants with rheumy but unquestionably loving eyes. The women wou
ld serenade the children with songs and stories, including the epic adventures of the infants’ own father. Other members of the court were also frequently in attendance paying their respects.

  Rocmid, the court jester, arrived one day, more out of curiosity than anything else, but when he noticed the Fergus and Ferdia smiled happily at his antics, he made several return visits. If there was one thing Rocmid understood, it was an appreciative audience. Mairéad supervised the attention, understanding that whatever about the close and occasionally stagnate atmosphere of the great hall, Fergus and Ferdia would not want for love and affection.

  Cathbad the Druid and Conchubar the King also frequently looked in on the infants, holding each child and reminding them of their lineage. For each of the elderly men, this was a new and different experience because normally powerful leaders did not even see infants, much less hold them in their arms and speak quietly to them. They both realized that as the two old men moved toward the end of their earthly existence, they might never have a similar opportunity. Fergus and Ferdia were not babies who cried out or squirmed at a strange touch or voice, rather they seemed to accept that everyone who came in contact with them could provide a new and important experience.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  In the Court of Queen Maeve, her spy returned from Ulster and reported his intelligence. To his relief, the queen took the news with relatively good spirits so for the moment he would live to see another day. Although the children were completely secure in Emain Macha, discovering that they were to be moved was a stroke of good fortune that brought a twisted smile to Maeve’s face.

  Maeve called for her chief druid Lugain and explained what her spy had reported. “So, my learned friend,” she asked, “if you were Cathbad what day might be particularly fortunate for offering Cúchulainn’s whelps to Lugh of the Long Hand.”