A fourth of the house, then, was set aside for the company. This was the arrangement of the house: seven rows, and seven apartments round about the house from the fire to the wall. Each apartment had a façade of bronze, divided laterally by specially ornamented red yew, and there were three strips of bronze at the base of each apartment. Seven rods of copper ran from the house vat to the ceiling. The house was built of pine, with a shingled roof; there were sixteen windows in the house, with a copper shutter for each window, and there was a copper grating for the skylight. In the exact centre of the house was the apartment of Ailill and Medb. It had copper pillars and was ornamented everywhere with bronze; two borders of gilded silver went about it, while a silver moulding from the headboard rose to the crossbeams.
The company made a circuit of the house, from one entrance to the next; they hung up their weapons and sat down and were made comfortable. ‘Welcome!’ said Ailill and Medb. ‘It is for that we have come,’ said Fróech. ‘Then your journey will not be for nothing,’ said Medb. Ailill and Medb played fidchell after that, and Fróech began to play with one of his own people. Beautiful his fidchell set: the board was of white gold, and the edges and corners were of gold, while the pieces were of gold and silver, and a candle of precious stone provided light. ‘Have food prepared for the youths,’ said Ailill. ‘I have no wish,’ answered Medb, ‘but to go and play fidchell with Fróech.’ ‘Do that, then; it is fine with me,’ said Ailill. Medb and Fróech played fidchell after that.
Meanwhile, Fróech’s people were roasting the game. ‘Let the harpers play for us,’ said Ailill to Fróech. ‘Indeed, let them,’ said Fróech. The harp bags were of otterskin and were decorated with Parthian leather ornamented with gold and silver. The kidskin about the harps was white as snow and had dark grey eyes in the middle; the coverings of linen about the strings were white as swans’ down. The harps were of gold and silver and white gold, with the forms of snakes and birds and hounds in gold and silver on them; and as the strings moved, these forms would make circuits round the men.
The harpers played, then, and twelve men died of weeping and sorrow. The three harpers were fair and melodious, for they were the fair ones of Úaithne, three brothers, Goltrade and Gentrade and Súantrade, and Bóand of the Síde was their mother. They were named after the music that Úaithne, the Dagdae’s harper, played. At first, the music was sad and mournful because of the sharpness of the pains; then it was joyful and happy because of the two sons; finally, it was quiet and peaceful because of the heaviness of the birth of the last son, and he was named for the last third of the music. After that, Bóand woke from her sleep. ‘Receive your three sons, O passionate Úaithne,’ she said, ‘for the music of sleep and laughter and sorrow will reach the cattle and women of Ailill and Medb that bring forth young. Men will die from hearing their music.’
The harpers ceased to play, then. ‘It is a champion who has come,’ said Fergus. ‘Divide for us,’ said Fróech, ‘the food that has been brought into the house.’ Lothur strode to the centre of the house and divided their food for them: he divided each piece in his palm with his sword, but neither skin nor flesh was ever touched. From the time that he became carver, no food in his hand was ever lost.
Medb and Fróech spent three days playing fidchell, by the light of the precious stones in Fróech’s company. ‘I have been good to you,’ Fróech said to Medb, ‘for I have not beaten you at fidchell, lest you be dishonoured.’ ‘The longest day I have ever spent in the fort this,’ said Medb. ‘Certainly,’ said Fróech, ‘for we have been here three days and three nights.’
With that Medb rose and went to Ailill, for she was ashamed that the youths had had no food. ‘A great evil we have done,’ she said, ‘not to have fed the youths who have come from so far.’ ‘You preferred to play fidchell,’ replied Ailill. ‘That ought not to have prevented the distribution of food to his people in the house,’ said Medb. ‘We were here three days and three nights, but we did not perceive night because of the brilliance of the precious stones.’ ‘Tell them,’ said Ailill, ‘to leave off their amusements until their food is distributed.’ The food was distributed, then, and everyone was good to them, and they stayed and feasted for three days and three nights.
After that, Fróech was summoned to the house of council, and he was asked what had brought him. ‘We would like to visit you,’ he replied. ‘Indeed, the household enjoys your company,’ said Ailill. ‘Better more of you than less.’ ‘We will stay about a week, then,’ said Fróech. The company remained a fortnight in the fort; they hunted about the fort every day, and the Connachta would come to watch.
Fróech was distressed not to have spoken with Findabair since it was the need to do so that had brought him. One day, he rose at dawn to bathe in the river, and she and her serving maid came to bathe also. Fróech took her hand and said ‘Stay and talk to me. It is for you we have come.’ ‘Welcome that, indeed,’ said the girl, ‘if it were possible. I can do nothing for you.’ ‘Will you come away with me?’ asked Fróech. ‘Indeed, I will not,’ she replied, ‘for I am the daughter of a king and queen. You are not so poor that you cannot get me from my people, and it will be my choice to go with you, for it is you I have loved. Take this thumb ring as a token; my father gave it to me, but I will say that I have lost it.’ They parted after that.
‘I fear,’ Ailill said to Medb, ‘that our daughter will run off with Fróech.’ ‘There would be profit in giving her to him,’ replied Medb, ‘for he would return with his cattle to help us on the raid.’ Fróech found them in the house of council. ‘Is it a secret?’ he asked. ‘There is room for you,’ said Ailill. ‘Will you give me your daughter?’ Fróech asked. ‘I will,’ said Ailill, ‘if you pay the stated bride price.’ ‘It will be paid,’ said Fróech. ‘Three score of dark grey horses,’ said Ailill, ‘with gold bridle bits, and twelve milch cows such that a drink of milk might be had from each, and a white calf with red ears for each cow, and your bringing your entire number and your musicians to help us take the cattle from Cúailnge.’ ‘I swear by my shield and my sword and my apparel, I would not give such a bride price for Medb herself,’ said Fróech, and he strode out of the house.
After that, Ailill and Medb conversed. ‘A multitude of the kings of Ériu will besiege us if he takes the girl,’ said Ailill. ‘It would be best to set upon him and kill him now, before he can bring about our destruction.’ ‘Pitiful that,’ replied Medb, ‘and we will be dishonoured.’ ‘We will not be dishonoured, for I will arrange it so,’ said Ailill.
Ailill and Medb returned to the royal house. ‘Let us go out,’ he said, ‘to see the hounds hunt, until noon comes and they grow tired.’ Ailill and Medb went out to bathe in the river. ‘I am told,’ Ailill said to Fróech, ‘that you are good in the water. Come into this pool, that we may see you swim.’ ‘What sort of pool is this?’ Fróech asked. ‘We know of nothing dangerous in it,’ said Ailill, ‘and it is our custom to bathe here.’ Fróech took off his clothes, then, and went into the water, leaving his belt behind. Ailill opened Fróech’s wallet, then, and the thumb ring was in it, and he recognized it. ‘Come here, Medb!’ he said; Medb came, and he said to her ‘Do you recognize this?’ ‘I do,’ she replied. Ailill threw the ring into the river; Fróech perceived this, and he saw a salmon leap for the ring and catch it in its mouth. Fróech leapt after the salmon and caught it by the gills; he made for land and hid the fish in a secret place on the river bank.
After that, Fróech made to leave the water. ‘Do not come out,’ said Ailill, ‘until you have brought me a branch from yonder rowan on the river bank. I find its berries beautiful.’ Fróech went back, then, and brought the branch through the water on his shoulders. Findabair said afterwards that, whatever beautiful thing she saw, she thought it more beautiful to look at Fróech across the dark water, his body very white, his hair very beautiful, his face very shapely, his eyes very blue, he a gentle youth without fault or blemish, his face narrow below and broad above, he straight without blemish
, the branch with the red berries between his throat and his white face. Findabair used to say that she had never seen anything to match a half or a third of his beauty.
Fróech brought the branches from the water to them, then. ‘These berries are choice and delicious. Bring us more.’ Fróech went back into the water, and in the centre of the pool a monster seized him. ‘A sword for me!’ he cried, but not a man there dared give him one for fear of Ailill and Medb. Findabair, however, threw off her clothes and leapt into the water with a sword. Her father cast a five-pointed spear at her so that it went through her two tresses. Fróech caught the spear, the monster at his side, and sent it back in a kind of play of weaponry, so that it went through Ailill’s scarlet mantle and through his shirt. The youths rose about Ailill then. Findabair came out of the water, but she left the sword in Fróech’s hand, and he struck off the monster’s head and brought it with him to land. Thus is named Dub-lind Froích in the river Brei in the land of the Connachta.
Ailill and Medb went back into the fort, then. ‘A great evil have we done,’ said Medb. ‘We regret what we have done against the man,’ said Ailill. ‘The girl, however, will die tomorrow night, and not for the crime of taking the sword to him. Have a bath prepared for the man, a broth of fresh bacon and the flesh of a heifer chopped up with an adze and an axe and added into the bath.’ All this was done.
Fróech’s hornplayers preceded him into the court, then, and such was their playing that thirty of Ailill’s dearest ones died of yearning. Fróech entered the fort, then, and went into the bath. A company of women rose about him to rub him and to wash his hair; after that, he was taken from the tub, and a bed was prepared for him to lie down. But the people heard weeping outside Crúachu, and they saw three fifties of women wearing scarlet mantles and bright green headdresses and silver animal bracelets on their wrists. Messengers were sent to find out why the women were weeping, and one woman said ‘Fróech son of Idath is the favourite youth of the king of the Síde of Ériu.’ At that, Fróech heard the weeping, and he said to his people ‘Bear me outside. The weeping of my mother this, and of the women of Bóand.’ Fróech was borne outside, then, and the women gathered about him and took him off into the síd of Crúachu. On the evening of the following day, the people saw him return, accompanied by fifty women and completely healed, without fault or blemish. Of equal age and form and beauty and fairness and comeliness and grace the women about him, so that there was no telling one from the other; and they had the look of the women of the Síde. Men all but suffocated about them. The women departed at the entrance to the courtyard, but in leaving they so poured forth their lament that the people in the courtyard were laid prostrate. Thus it is that the musicians of Ériu possess the weeping of the women of the Síde.
Fróech entered the fort after that; the hosts rose to meet him, and they welcomed him as if he had come from another world. Ailill and Medb rose also, and they expressed regret for what they had done to him, and peace was made. That night, a feast was held. Fróech called a lad of his people to him and said ‘Go out to where I entered the pool. I left a salmon there; take it to Findabair and leave it with her, and have her cook it well. The thumb ring is inside the salmon, and I expect that it may be demanded of her tonight.’
After that, everyone grew intoxicated, and the singers and musicians entertained them. ‘Bring all my treasures to me!’ said Ailill, and these were brought before him. ‘Wonderful! Wonderful!’ said everyone. ‘Call Findabair to me,’ said Ailill; Findabair came, with fifty girls about her. ‘Daughter,’ said Ailill, ‘the thumb ring I gave you last year, do you still have it? Give it to me that the warriors may see it – you will get it back.’ ‘I do not know what has happened to it,’ said Findabair. ‘Find out, then!’ said Ailill. ‘Otherwise, your soul must leave your body.’ ‘It is not worth that,’ said the youths, ‘not with all the treasures that are here already.’ ‘There is no treasure I would not give for the girl,’ said Fróech, ‘for she brought the sword that saved my life.’ ‘You have no treasure that can save her if she does not restore the thumb ring,’ replied Ailill. ‘I have no power to restore it,’ said Findabair. ‘Do with me as you like.’ ‘I swear by the god my people swear by, you will die unless you restore it,’ said Ailill. ‘That is why I demand it of you – I know you cannot produce it. That ring will not come from where it has been put until the dead come to life.’ ‘Then neither wealth nor wishing will restore it. But since your need is urgent, let me go that I may bring it,’ said Findabair. Ailill replied ‘You will not go – let one of your people go for it.’ Findabair sent her maid to look for the ring, and she said to Ailill ‘I swear by the god my people swear by, if the ring is found, I will not remain under your protection so long as there is someone else to undertake it.’ ‘If the ring is found,’ said Ailill, ‘I would not refuse you that even if you went to the stableboy.’
The maid brought a platter into the royal house, then, and the salmon was on it; Findabair had cooked it well, and the gold thumb ring lay upon it. Ailill and Medb looked at the ring; Fróech said ‘Give it here that I may see it’, and he looked into his wallet. ‘I believe I was observed when I took off my belt,’ he said to Ailill. ‘By the truth of your sovereignty, tell us what you did with the ring.’ ‘That will not be concealed from you,’ said Ailill. ‘Mine the thumb ring that was in your wallet, and I knew that Findabair had given it to you. That is why I threw it into the dark water. By the truth of your honour and your soul, Fróech, tell how you managed to bring it out.’ ‘That will not be concealed from you,’ said Fróech. ‘I found the thumb ring at the entrance to the courtyard my first day here; I knew it was a fair treasure, and so I put it carefully into my wallet. The day I went into the water I perceived the girl who had lost it looking for it, and I said to her “What reward will you give me for finding it?” She said that she would give me her love for a year. It happened that 1 did not have the ring with me, for I had left it behind in the house. We did not meet again until she put the sword in my hand in the river. After that, I saw you open my wallet and throw the thumb ring into the water, and I saw the salmon that leapt to catch the ring in its mouth. I caught the salmon, then, I took it to shore, and I gave it to Findabair. That is the salmon on the platter before you.’
There was great praise and wonder in the house over that story. ‘I will not set my mind on any young warrior in Ériu but this one,’ said Findabair. ‘Promise yourself to him, then,’ said Ailill and Medb, and they said to Fróech ‘Come with your cattle to drive the cattle from Cúailnge. The night you return from the east with your cattle is the night you will spend with Findabair.’ ‘I will do that,’ said Fróech. He and his people remained there that night, and the following day they prepared to go, and Fróech bade farewell to Ailill and Medb.
The company set out for their own land, then; it had happened, meanwhile, that Fróech’s cattle were stolen. His mother came to him, saying ‘Not prosperous your expedition – great sorrow has come of it, for your cattle and your three sons and your wife have been stolen and taken to the Alps. Three cows are in northern Albu with the Cruithnig.’ ‘What will I do?’ Fróech asked his mother. ‘You will not go in search of them,’ she said, ‘for you are not to give up your life for them. You will have my cattle, moreover.’ ‘Not at all,’ said Fróech. ‘I swore on my honour and my soul to go to Ailill and Medb with my cattle to drive the cattle from Cuailnge.’ ‘Their finding is not to be had,’ said his mother, and with that she left him.
Fróech set out, then, with thrice nine men and a falcon and a hound on a leash, and when he reached the land of the Ulaid, he met Conall Cernach at Benda Bairchi. He told Conall his problem, and Conall replied ‘Unhappy that which lies before you. Great trouble lies before you, though it is there your mind would be.’ ‘Help me, then,’ said Fróech. ‘Come with me until we find them.’ ‘I will, indeed,’ said Conall.
They set out across the sea, across northern England and the Channel to northern Lombardy, until they reac
hed the Alps; they saw before them there a small woman herding sheep. ‘Let the two of us go, Fróech, to speak with the woman,’ said Conall, ‘and let the warriors remain here.’ They went to speak with her, then, and she said ‘Whence do you come?’ ‘From the men of Ériu,’ said Conall. ‘Unhappy any men of Ériu who come to this land, indeed,’ she said. ‘My mother was of the people of Ériu.’ ‘Then help me out of kinship,’ said Fróech. ‘Tell us about our adventuring here – what sort of land have we come to?’ ‘A grim, frightful country with truculent warriors,’ she replied. ‘They seek to carry off cattle and women and booty on every side.’ ‘What have they brought back most recently?’ asked Fróech. ‘The cattle of Fróech son of Idath from the west of Ériu, along with his wife and his three sons. His wife is with the king; his cattle are before you,’ the woman said. ‘Give us your help,’ said Conall. ‘I have no power but what I know,’ she replied. ‘This is Fróech here,’ said Conall, ‘and they are his cattle that were taken.’ ‘Do you trust your wife?’ asked the woman. ‘We trusted her before she came, but perhaps we do not trust her now,’ they said. ‘Go to the woman who tends the cows and tell her your need. She is of the race of Ériu, of the Ulaid, in fact,’ said the woman.
Fróech and Conall went to her and stopped her and identified themselves, and she welcomed them, saying ‘What has brought you here?’ ‘Trouble has brought us,’ said Conall. ‘Ours the cattle, and the woman who is in the house.’ ‘Unhappy you,’ she said, ‘to have to face the woman’s host, and most difficult of all the serpent that guards the courtyard.’ ‘I will not go to my wife,’ said Fróech, ‘for I do not trust her. I trust you. We know that you will not betray us since you are of the Ulaid.’ ‘How are you of the Ulaid?’ she asked. ‘This is Conall Cernach, the best warrior in Ulaid,’ Fróech said. The woman threw her arms round Conall’s neck. ‘Now the destruction will take place,’ she said, ‘for Conall has come, and the destruction of the fort by him was foretold. Let me go, now – I will not be milking the cows, but I will leave the door open, for it is I who close it, and I will say that the calves have sucked. Go into the fort, provided that they are asleep. Most difficult the serpent that guards the fort – many people have been left to it.’ ‘All the same, we will go,’ said Conall.
Early Irish Myths and Sagas Page 12