"The Destruction of Da Derga's Hostel" is one of the longest and
most pathetic Irish sagas. It is among the few complete narratives of any
great extent preserved from ancient Irish literature. The oldest manuscript
was copied about the year 1100, but the saga existed in written
form as early as the eighth or ninth century. According to the annals,
Conaire was high-king of Ireland about the beginning of the Christian
era. Da Derga's Hostel was situated among the hills overlooking the
village of Bray near Dublin, and was built over the Dodder, a little stream
that flows through Donnybrook and empties into Dublin Bay. The story,
though rambling and disconnected in spots, is told with real power and
contains some of the finest descriptive passages in early Irish literature. After giving an account of Conaire's antecedents and birth, the story goes on to tell how the youthful king met his tragic and untimely death. He is represented as the grandson of the beautiful and unfortunate Etain, whose life history is recorded in "The Wooing of Etain". Like numerous other characters in early Irish fiction, he is subject to certain gesa or taboos, which he violates only at the peril of his life. The fairy folk, in revenge for the injury which Conaire's grandfather had done them in destroying their mound, bring it about that Conaire breaks his taboos and so falls a victim to the perfidy of his own foster-brothers and of the British pirates who act as their allies. Though dealing primarily with one of the traditional kings of Ireland, the story is given here because of its connection with "The Wooing of Etain," to which it forms a natural sequel. The following translation is complete except for the omission of a few unimportant repetitious passages. There was a famous and noble king over Erin, named Eochaid Fedlech. 1 Once upon a time he came over the fair-green of Bri Leith, and he saw at the edge of a well a woman with a bright comb of silver adorned with gold, washing in a silver basin wherein were four golden birds and little, bright gems of purple carbuncle in the rims of the basin. A mantle she had, curly and purple, a beautiful cloak, and in the mantle silvery fringes arranged, and a brooch of fairest gold. A kirtle she wore, long, hooded, hardsmooth, of green silk, with red embroidery of gold. Marvellous clasps of gold and silver in the kirtle on her breasts and her shoulders and spaulds on every side. The sun kept shining upon her, so that the glistening of the gold against the sun from the green silk was manifest to the men. On her head were two golden-yellow tresses, in each of which was a plait of four strands, with a bead of gold at the point of each strand. The hue of that hair seemed to the king and his companions like the flower of the iris in summer, or like red gold after the burnishing thereof. There she was, undoing her hair to wash it, with her arms out through the sleeve-holes of her smock. White as the snow of one night were the two hands, soft and even, and red as foxglove were the two clear-beautiful cheeks. Dark as the back of a stag-beetle the two eyebrows. Like a shower of pearls were the teeth in her head. Blue as a hyacinth were the eyes. Red as rowan-berries the lips. Very high, smooth and soft-shining the shoulders. Clear white and long the fingers. Long were the hands. White as the foam of a wave was the flank, slender, long, tender, smooth, soft as wool. Polished and warm, sleek and white were the two thighs. Round and small, hard and white the two knees. Short and white and rulestraight the two shins. Justly straight and beautiful the two heels. If a measure were put on the feet it would hardly have found them unequal. The bright radiance of the moon was in her noble face; the loftiness of pride in her smooth eyebrows; the light of wooing in each of her regal eyes. A dimple of delight in each of her cheeks, with a variegation in them at one time of purple spots with redness of a calf's blood, and at another with the bright lustre of snow. Soft womanly dignity in her voice; a step steady and slow she had; a queenly gait was hers. Verily, of the world's women 'twas she, the dearest and loveliest and justest that the eyes of men had ever beheld. It seemed to king Eochaid and his followers that she was from the fairy-mounds. Of her was said: "Shapely are all till compared with Etain; dear are all till compared with Etain." A longing for her straightway seized the king; so he sent forward a man of his people to detain her. The king asked tidings of her and said, while announcing himself: "Shall I have an hour of dalliance with thee?" "Tis for that we have come hither under thy safeguard," said she. "Whence art thou and whence hast thou come?" asked Enchaid. "Easy to say," answered she. "Etain am I daughter of Etar, king of Echrad. I have been here for twenty years since I was born in a fairy-mound. The men of the fairy-mound, both kings and nobles, have been wooing me; but nought was gotten from me, because ever since I was able to speak, I have loved thee and given thee a child's love for the high tales about thee and thy splendor. And though I have never seen thee, I knew thee at once from thy description: it is thou, then, I have found." "No seeking of an ill friend afar shall be thine," said Eochaid. "Thou shalt have welcome, and for thee every other woman shall be left by me, and with thee alone will I live so long as thou hast honor." "Pay me my proper bride-price," she said, "and afterwards grant my wish." "Thou shalt have both," said Eochaid. The value of seven bondmaids was given to her, and she became Eochaid's wife. Then the king, Eochaid Fedlech, died leaving one daughter named, like her mother, Etain, and she was wedded to Cormac, king of Ulster. After the end of a time Cormac, king of Ulster, "the man of the three gifts," forsook Eochaid's daughter, because she was barren save for one daughter that she had borne to Cormac after the making of the pottage which her mother-the woman from the fairy-mounds-gave her. Then she said to her mother: "Bad is what thou hast given me: it will be a, daughter that I shall bear." "That will not be good," said her mother;" a king's pursuit will be on her." Then Cormac again wedded his wife, even Etain, and this was his desire, that the daughter of the woman who had before been abandoned (i.e., his own daughter) should be killed. So Cormac would not leave the girl to her mother to be nursed. Then his two thralls took her to a pit, but she smiled a laughing smile at them as they were putting her into it. Then their kindly nature came to them. They carried her into the calfshed of the cowherds of Eterscel great-grandson of Iar king of Tara, and they fostered her till she became a good embroidererss; and there was not in Ireland a kings daughter dearer than she. A fenced house of wickerwork was made by the thralls for her, without any door, but only a window and a skylight. King Eterscel's folk espied that house and supposed that it was food that the cowherds kept there. But one of them went and looked through the skylight, and he saw in the house the dearest, most beautiful maiden! This was told to the king, and straightway he sent his people to wreck the house and carry her off without asking the cow-herds. For the king was childless, and it had been prophesied to him by his wizards that a woman of unknown race would bear him a son. Then said the king: "This is the woman that has been prophesied to me!" Now while she was there next morning she saw a bird on the skylight coming to her, and he left his birdskin on the floor of the house, and went to her and captured her, and said: "They are coming to thee from the king to wreck thy house and to bring thee to him perforce. And thou wilt be pregnant by me, and bear a son, and that son must not kill birds. And Conaire, son of Mess Buachalla shall be his name"; for hers was Mess Buachalla, "the Cowherds Fosterchild." And then she was brought to the king, and with her went her fosterers, and she was betrothed to the king, and he gave her the value of seven bondmaids and to her fosterers a like amount. And afterwards they were made chieftains, so that they all became lawworthy, whence are the two Fedlimids the stewards. And then she bore a son to the king, called Conaire son of Mess Buachalla, and these were her three urgent prayers to the king, the nursing of her son among three households; that is, the fosterers who had nurtured her, and Mane Honeywords, and herself the third; and she said that such of the men of Erin as should wish to do aught for this boy should give securities to those three households for the boy's protection. So thus he was reared, and the men of Erin straightway knew this boy on the day he was born. And other boys were fostered with him, to wit, Fer Le and Fer Gair and Fer Rogain, three sons of Donn Desa the champion. Now Conaire possessed three gifts, the gift of hearing and the gift of eyesight and the gift of judgment; and of those three gifts he taught one to each of his three foster-brothers. And whatever meal was prepared for him, the four of them would go to it. Even though three meals were prepared for him each of them would go to his meal. The same raiment and armor and color of horses had the four. Then King Eterscel died. A bull-feast was prepared by the men of Erin in order to determine their future king; that is, a bull was killed by them and thereof one man ate his fill and drank its broth, and a spell of truth was chanted over him in his bed. Whomsoever he would see in his sleep would be king, and the sleeper would perish if he uttered a falsehood. Four men in chariots were on the Plain of Liffey at their game, Conaire himself and his three fosterbrothers. Then his fosterers went to him and summoned him to the bull-feast. The bull-feaster, in his sleep, at the end of the night had beheld a man stark-naked, passing along the road of Tara, with a stone in his sling. "I will go in the morning after your," said Conaire. He left his fosterbrothers at their game, and turned his chariot and his charioteer and fared to Dublin. There he saw great white-speckled birds, of unusual size and color and beauty. He pursued them until his horses were tired. The birds would go a spearcast before him, and would not go any farther. He alighted, took his sling out of the chariot, and went after them until he reached the sea. The birds betook themselves to the waves. He went after them and overcame them. The birds quit their birdskins, and turned upon him with spears and swords. One of them protected him, and addressed him, saying: "I am Nemglan, king of thy father's birds; and thou hast been forbidden to cast at birds, for here there is no one that should not be dear to thee because of his father or mother." "Till today," said Conaire, "I knew not this." "Go to Tara tonight," said Nemglan; " 'tis fittest for thee. A bull-feast is there, and through it thou shalt be king. A man stark-naked, who shall go at the end of the night along one of the roads of Tara, having a stone and a, sling 'tis he that shall be king." So Conaire fared forth naked; and on each of the four roads whereby men go to Tara there were three kings awaiting him, and they had raiment for him, since it had been foretold that he would come stark-naked. Then he was seen from the road on which his fosterers were, and they put royal raiment about him, and placed him in a chariot, and he took sureties. The folk of Tara said to him: "It seems to us that our bull-feast and our spell of truth are a failure, if it be only a young, beardless lad that we have visioned therein." "That is of no moment," said he. "For a young, generous king like me to be in the kingship is no disgrace, since the taking of Tara's sureties is mine by right of father and grandsire." "Excellent! excellent!" said the host. They set the kingship of Erin upon him. And he said: "I will take counsel of wise men that I myself may be wise." He uttered all this as he had been taught by the bird-man at the sea, who had said this to him: "Thy reign will be subject to a restriction, but the bird-reign will be noble, and these shall be thy taboos: "Thou shalt not go right handwise round Tara and left handwise round Mag Breg. "The evil-beasts of Cerna must not be hunted by thee." "And thou shalt not go out every ninth night beyond Tara." "Thou shalt not sleep in a house from which firelight is manifest outside after sunset, and in which light is manifest from without." "And three Reds shall not go before thee to Red's house." "And no rapine shall be wrought in thy reign." "And after sunset a company of one woman or one man shall not enter the house in which thou art." "And thou shalt not settle the quarrel of thy two thralls." Now there were in Conaire's reign great bounties, to wit, seven ships in every June of every year arriving at Inver Colptha, and oak-mast up to the knees in every autumn, and plenty of fish in the rivers Bush and Boyne in June of each year, and such abundance of good-will that no one slew another in Erin during his reign. And to every one in Erin his fellow's voice seemed as sweet as the strings of lutes. From mid-spring to mid-autumn no wind disturbed a cow's tail. His reign was neither thunderous nor stormy. Now his foster-brothers murmured at the taking from them of their father's and their grandsire's gifts, namely theft and robbery and slaughter of men and rapine. They thieved the three thefts from the same man, a swine and an ox and a cow, every year, that they might see what punishment therefor the king would inflict upon them, and what damage the theft in his reign would cause to the king. Every year the farmer would come to the king to complain, and the king would say to him, " Go thou and address Donn Desa's three sons, for 'tis they that have taken the beasts." Whenever he went to speak to them, they would almost kill him and he would not return to the king lest Conaire should add to his hurt. Since, then, pride and wilfulness possessed them, they took to marauding, surrounded by the sons of the lords of the men of Erin. Thrice fifty men had they as pupils who in the form of were-wolves were destroying in the province of Connacht, until Mane Milscothach's swineherd saw them, and he had never seen that before. He fled in fright. When they heard him they pursued him. The swineherd shouted, and the people of the two Manes came to him, and the thrice fifty men were arrested, along with their auxiliaries, and taken to Tara. They consulted the king concerning the matter, and he said: " Let each father slay his son, but let my foster-brothers be spared." "Let be, let be!" said every one: "you shall be obeyed." "But mind you," said he; "there is no lengthening of life in the judgment I have delivered. The men shall not be hanged; but let veterans go with them in banishment that they may wreak their rapine on the men of Scotland and Britain." This they did. They put to sea and met the son of the king of Britain, even Ingcel the One-eyed, grandson of Conmac: thrice fifty men and their veterans they met upon the sea. They made an alliance, and went with Ingcel and wrought rapine with him. This was the destruction which Ingcel did of his own will. On a certain night his mother and his father and his seven brothers had been bidden to the house of the king of his district. All of them were destroyed by Ingcel in a single night. Then the Irish pirates put out to sea to the land of Erin to inflict equal destruction upon their own people as payment for that to which Ingcel had been entitled from them. In Conaire's reign there was perfect peace in Erin, save that in Thomond there was a battle between the two Cairbres. Two fosterbrothers of his were they. And until Conaire came it was impossible to make peace between them. 'Twas a taboo of his to go to separate them before they had appealed to him. He went, however, although to do so was one of his taboos, and he made peace between them. He remained five nights with each of the two. That also was a taboo of his. After settling the quarrel, he was travelling to Tara. The way he took to Tara was past Usnech in Meath; and he saw raiding from east and west, and from south and north, and he saw warbands and hosts, and men stark-naked; and the land of the southern O'Neills was a cloud of fire around him. "What is this?" asked Conaire. "Easy to say," his people answered. "Easy to know that the king's law has broken down therein, since the country has begun to burn." "Whither shall we betake ourselves?" said Conaire. "To the northeast said his people." So then they went right handwise round Tara, and left handwise round Mag Breg, and the evil beasts of Cerna were hunted by him. But he saw it not till the chase had ended. They that made of the world that smoky mist of magic were the fairy folk, and they did so because Conaire's taboos had been violated. Great fear then fell on Conaire because they had no way to go save upon the Road of Midluachar and the Road of Cualu. So they took their way by the coast of Ireland southward. Then said Conaire on the Road of Cualu: "Whither shall we go tonight?" "By my word, my fosterling Conaire," said Mac Cecht, son of Snade Teiched, the champion of Conaire son of Eterscel, "it is more usual that the men of Erin should contend for thee every night than that thou shouldst wander about for a guesthouse." "Judgment goes with good times," said Conaire. "I had a friend in this country, if only we knew the way to his house!" "What is his name?" asked Mac Cecht. "Da Derga ('Two Reds') of Leinster," answered Conaire. "He came to me to seek a gift from me, and he did not meet a refusal. I gave him a hundred cows of the drove. I gave him a hundred fatted swine. I gave him a hundred mantles made of close cloth. I gave him a hundred blue-colored weapons of battle. I gave him ten red, gilded brooches. I gave him ten vats of mead good and brown. I gave him ten thralls. I gave him ten nags. I gave him thrice nine hounds all-white in their silver chains. I gave him a hundred race-horses. There would be no abatement in his case though he should come again, and he on his part make to me a return. It would be strange if he were surly to me tonight when I reach his abode." "I am acquainted with his house," said Mac Cecht; "the road whereon thou art going is the boundary of his abode. It continues till it enters his house, for through the house passes the road. There are seven doorways into the house, and seven rooms between every two doorways; but there is only one door-way covering, and that covering is turned to every doorway to which the wind blows." "With all that thou hast here," said Conaire, "thou shalt go with this large company until thou alightest in the midst of the house." "If so be," answered Mac Cecht, "that thou guest thither, I go on that I may strike fire there ahead of thee." When Conaire after this was journeying along the Road of Cualu, he marked before him three horsemen riding towards the house. Three red frocks had they, and three red mantles: three red bucklers they bore, and three red spears were in their hands: three red steeds they bestrode, and three red heads of hair were on them. Red were they all, both body and hair and raiment, both steeds and men. "Who is it that fares before us?" asked Conaire. "It was a taboo of mine for those three to go before me the three Reds to the house of Red. Who will follow them and tell them to come behind me?" "I will follow them," said Le Fri Flaith, Conaire's son. He went after them, lashing his horse, but he overtook them not. There was the length of a spearcast between them but they did not gain upon him and he did not gain upon them. He told them not to go before the king. He overtook them not; but one of the three men sang a lay to him over his shoulder: " Lo, my son, great the news, news from a hostel. Lo, my son!" They went away from him then: he could not detain them. The boy waited for the company of his father. He told his father what was said to him. Conaire liked it not. "After them!" said Conaire, "and offer them three oxen and three bacon-pigs, and so long as they shall be in my household, no one shall be among them from fire to wall." So the lad went after them, and offered them that, and overtook them not. But one of the three men sang a lay to him over his shoulder: "Lo, my son, The boy turned back and repeated the lay to Conaire. "Go after them," said Conaire, "and offer them six oxen and six bacon-pigs, and my leavings, and gifts tomorrow, and so long as they shall be in my household, no one shall be among them from fire to wall." The lad then went after them, and overtook them not; but one of the three men answered and said: "Lo, my son, great the news! Then they went from him. "I see that thou hast not detained the men," said Conaire. "Indeed it is not because I failed to try," said Le Fri Flaith. He recited the last answer that they gave him. Conaire and his retainers were not pleased thereat; and afterwards evil forebodings of terror were on them. "All my taboos have seized me tonight," said Conaire, "since those Three Reds were the fairy folk." The three Reds went forward to the house and took their seats therein, and fastened their red steeds to the door of the house. That is the Forefaring of the Three Reds in the Hostel of Da Derga. Then, as Conaire was going to Da Derga's Hostel, a man with black, cropt hair, with one hand and one eye and one foot, overtook them. Rough cropt hair was upon him. Though a sackful of wild apples were flung on his crown, not an apple would fall to the ground, but each of them would stick on a hair. Though his snout were flung on a branch they would remain together. Long and thick as an outer yoke was each of his two skins. Each of his buttocks was the size of a cheese on a withe. A forked pole of iron, black-pointed, was in his hand. A swine, black-bristled, singed, was on his back, squealing continually, and a woman big-mouthed, huge, dark, ugly, hideous, was behind him. Though her snout were flung on a branch, the branch would support it. Her lower lip would reach her knee. He started forward to meet Conaire, and made him welcome. "Welcome to thee, O master Conaire! Long hath thy coming hither been known." "Who gives the welcome?" asked Conaire. "Fer Caille here, with his black swine for thee to consume that thou be not fasting tonight, for 'tis thou art the best king that has come into the world!" "What is thy wife's name?" said Conaire. "Cichuil," he answered. "Any other night," said Conaire, "that pleases you, I will come to you, but leave us alone tonight." "Nay said the churl, "for we will go to thee in the place wherein thou wilt be tonight, O fair little master Conaire!" So the churl went towards the house, with his great, big-mouthed wife behind him, and his swine short-bristled, black, singed, squealing continually, on his back. That was one of Conaire's taboos, and that plunder should be taken in Ireland during his reign was another taboo of his. Now plunder was taken by the sons of Donn Desa, and five hundred there were in the body of their marauders, besides what underlings were with them. This, too, was a taboo of Conaire's. There was a good warrior in the north country, " Wain Over Withered Sticks," this was his name. Why he was so called was because he used to go over his opponent even as a wain would go over withered sticks. Now plunder was taken by him, and there were five hundred in that body of marauders alone, besides underlings. There was besides a troop of still haughtier heroes, namely, the seven sons of Ailill and Medb of Connacht, each of whom was called "Mane" And each Mane had a nickname, to wit, Mane Fatherlike and Mane Motherlike, and Mane Gentle-pious, Mane Very-pious, Mane Unslow, and Mane Honeywords, Mane Graspthem-all, and Mane the Talkative. Rapine was wrought by them. As to Mane Motherlike and Mane Unslow, there were fourteen score in the body of their marauders. Mane Fatherlike had three hundred and fifty. Mane Honeywords had five hundred. Mane Grasp-them-all had seven hundred. Mane the Talkative had seven hundred. Each of the others had five hundred in the body of his marauders. There was a valiant trio of the men of Cualu of Leinster, namely, the three Red Hounds of Cualu, called Cethach and Clothach and Conall. Now rapine was wrought by them, and twelve score were in the body of their marauders, and they had a troop of madmen. In Conaire's reign a third of the men of Ireland were marauders. He was of sufficient strength and power to drive them out of the land of Erin so as to transfer their marauding to Britain, but after this transfer they returned to their country. When they had reached the shoulder of the sea, they met Ingcel the One-eyed and Eiccel and Tulchinne, three great-grandsons of Conmac of Britain, on the raging of the sea. A man ungentle, huge, fearful, uncouth was Ingcel. A single eye in his head, as broad as an oxhide, as black as a chafer, with three pupils therein. Thirteen hundred were in the body of his marauders. The marauders of the men of Erin were more numerous than they. The marauders of Erin were about to attack them on the sea. "Ye should not do this," said Ingcel; "do not violate fair play with us, for ye are more in number than we." "Nought but a combat on equal terms shall befall thee," said the reavers of Erin. " There is somewhat better for you," said Ingcel; "let us make peace since ye have been cast out of the land of Erin, and we have been cast out of the land of Scotland and Britain. Let us make an agreement between us. Come ye and wreak your rapine in my country, and I will go with you and wreak my rapine in your country." They followed this counsel, and they gave pledges therefor on the one side and the other. These are the sureties that were given to Ingcel by the men of Erin, namely Fer Gair and Gabur (or Fer Le) and Fer Rogain, for the destruction that Ingcel should choose to cause in Ireland and for the destruction that the sons of Donn Desa should choose to cause in Scotland and Britain. A lot was cast upon them to see with which of them they should go first. It fell that they should go with Ingcel to his country. So they made for Britain, and there his father and mother and his seven brothers were slain, as we have said before. Thereafter they made for Scotland, and there they wrought destruction, and then they returned to Erin. It was just at this time that Conaire son of Eterscel went towards the Hostel of Da Derga along the Road of Cualu. 'Tis then that the reavers came till they were on the sea off the coast of Breg over against Howth. Then said the reavers; " Strike the sails, and make one band of you on the sea that ye may not be sighted from land; and let some lightfoot be found from among you to go on shore to see if we could save our honor with Ingcel; that is, a destruction in exchange for the destruction he has given us." "Who will go on shore to act as spy? Let some one go," said Ingcel, "who should have there three gifts, namely, gift of hearing, gift of far sight, and gift of judgment." "I" said Mane Honeywords, "have the gift of hearing." "And I," said Mane Unslow, "have the gift of far sight and of judgment." " 'Tis well for you to go thus," said the reavers: "good is that plan." Then nine men went till they were on the Hill of Howth, to discover what they might hear and see. "Be still a while!" said Mane Honeywords. "What is that?" asked Mane Unslow. "The sound of a cavalcade under a king I hear." "By the gift of far sight, I see," said his comrade. "What seest thou there?" "I see there," said he, "cavalcades splendid, lofty, beautiful, warlike, somewhat slender, wary, active, keen, whetted, vehement, a good course that shakes a great covering of land. They fare to many heights, with wondrous waters and estuaries." "What are the waters and heights and estuaries that they traverse?" "Easy to say: Indeoin, Cult, Cuilten, Mafat, Ammat, Iarmafat, Finne, Goiste, Guistine, gray spears over chariots, ivory-hilted swords on thighs, silvery shields above their elbows. Half-wheels and half horses. Garments of every color about them. Thereafter I see before them special horses, thrice fifty dark-gray steeds. small-headed are they, red-nosed, pointed, broad-hoofed, big nosed, red-chested, fat, easily-stopt, easily-yoked, battle-nimble, keen, whetted, vehement, with their thrice fifty bridles of red enamel upon them." "I swear by what my tribe swears," said the man of the long sight, "these are the steeds of some good lord. This is my judgment thereof: it is Conaire son of Eterscel, with multitudes of the men of Erin around him, who is travelling the road." Back then they went that they might tell the reavers. "This," they said, "is what we have heard and seen." Of this host, then, there was a multitude, both on this side and on that, namely, thrice fifty boats, with five thousand in them, and ten hundred in every thousand. Then they hoisted the sails on the boats, and steered them thence to shore, till they landed on the Strand of Fuirbthe. Just at the time when the boats reached land, then was Mac Cecht striking fire in Da Derga's Hostel. At the sound of the spark the thrice fifty boats were hurled out, so that they were on the shoulders of the sea. "Be silent a while!" said Ingcel, "Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain." "I know not," answered Fer Rogain, "unless it be Luchdonn the satirist in Emain Macha, who makes this hand-smiting when his food is taken from him perforce: or the scream of Luchdonn in Tara Luachra: or Mac Cecht's striking a spark, when he kindles a fire before a king of Erin where he sleeps. Every spark and every shower which his fire would let fall on the floor would broil a hundred calves and two half-pigs." " May God not bring Conaire there tonight!" said Donn Desa's sons, Conaire's fosterbrothers. "Sad that he is under the hurt of foes!" "It seems to me," said Ingcel, "it should be no sadder for me than the destruction I gave you. It is a feast for me that Conaire should chance to come there." Their fleet was steered to land. The noise that the thrice fifty vessels made in running ashore shook Da Derga's Hostel so that no spear nor shield remained on its rack therein, but the weapons uttered a cry and fell all on the floor of the house. "Liken thou that, O Conaire," said every one; "what is this noise?" "I know nothing like it unless it be the earth that has broken, or the Leviathan that surrounds the globe and strikes with its tail to overturn the world, or the ships of the sons of Donn Desa that have reached the shore. Alas, that it should not be they who are here! Beloved foster brothers of our own were they! Dear were the champions. We should not have feared them tonight." Then came Conaire out upon the green of the Hostel. When Mac Cecht heard the tumultuous noise, it seemed to him that warriors had attacked his people. Thereat he leapt. into his armor to help them. Vast as the thunder-feat of three hundred did they deem his act in leaping to his weapons. Thereof there was no profit. Now in the bow of the ship wherein were Donn Desa's sons was the champion, greatly-accoutred, wrathful, the lion hard and awful, Ingcel the One-eyed, great-grandson of Conmac. Wide as an oxhide was the single eye protruding from his forehead, with seven pupils therein, which were black as a chafer. Each of his knees as big as a stripper's cauldron; each of his two fists was the size of a reaping-basket; his buttocks as big as a cheese on a withe; each of his shins as long as an outer yoke. So after that, the thrice fifty boats, and those five thousands with ten hundred in every thousand landed on the Strand of Fuirbthe. Then Conaire with his people entered the Hostel, and each took his seat within, both taboo and non-taboo. And the three Reds took their seats, and Fer Caille with his swine took his seat. Thereafter Da Derga came to them, with thrice fifty warriors, each of them having a long head of hair to the hollow of his poll, and a short cloak to their buttocks. Speckled-green drawers they wore, and in their hands were thrice fifty great clubs of thorn with bands of iron. "Welcome, O master Conaire!" said he. "Though the bulk of the men of Erin were to come with thee, they themselves would have a welcome." When they were there they saw a lone woman coming to the door of the Hostel, after sunset, and seeking to be let in. As long as a, weaver's beam was each of her two shins, and they were as dark as the back of a stag-beetle. A greyish, woolly mantle she wore. Her lower hair reached as far as her knee. Her lips were on one side of her head. She came and put one of her shoulders against the door post of the house, casting the evil eye on the king and the youths who surrounded him in the Hostel. He himself addressed her from within. "Well, O woman," said Conaire, to if thou art a soothsayer, what fortune seest thou for us?" "Truly I see for thee," she answered, "that neither fell nor flesh of thine shall escape from the place into which thou hast come, save what birds will bear away in their claws." "It was not thy omen we foreboded, O woman's said he: "it is not thou that always augurs for us. What is thy name, O woman?" "Cailb" she answered. "That is not much of a name," said Conaire. "Lo many are my names besides." " What are they?" asked Conaire. "Easy to say," quoth she. "Samon, Sinand, etc." On one foot, and holding up one hand, and breathing one breath she sang all that to them from the door of the house. " I swear by the gods whom I adore," said Conaire, "that I will call thee by none of these names whether I shall be here a long or a short time. What dost thou desire?" "That which thou, too, desirest," she answered. "Tis a taboo of mine," said Conaire, "to admit the company of one woman after sunset." "Though it be a taboo," she replied, "I will not go until my guesting come at once this very night." "Tell her," said Conaire, "that an ox and a bacon-pig shall be taken out to her, and my leavings, provided that she stays tonight in some other place." "If in sooth," she said, "it has befallen that the king has not room in his house for the meal and bed of a lone woman, they will be got from some one else possessing generosity if the hospitality of the prince in the Hostel has departed." "Savage is the answer!" said Conaire. "Let her in, though it is a taboo of mine." Great loathing they felt after that from the woman's converse and ill-foreboding; but they knew not the cause thereof. The reavers afterwards landed, and went on till they were at Lecca Cinn Slebe, on the way to Da Derga's Hostel. Ever open was the Bruden (Hostel) . . . Great was the fire which was kindled by Conaire every night; that is, a torc caille (Boar of the Wood). Seven outlets it had. When a log was taken out of its side every flame that used to come forth at each outlet was as big as the blaze of a burning oratory. There were seventeen of Conaire's chariots at every door of the house, and by the robbers from the vessels, who were looking on, that great light was clearly seen through the wheels of the chariots. "Canst thou say, O Fer Rogain," said Ingcel, "what that great light yonder resembles?" "I cannot liken it to anything," answered Fer Rogain, "unless it be the fire of a king. May God not bring that man here tonight! 'Tis a pity to destroy him!" "What then deemest thou," said Ingcel, " of that man's reign in the land of Erin?" "Good is his reign," replied Fer Rogain. "Since he assumed the kingship, no cloud has veiled the sun for the space of a day from the middle of spring to the middle of autumn. And not a dewdrop has fallen from grass till midday, and wind would not touch a cow's tail until noon. And in his reign, from year's end to year's end, no wolf has attacked anything save one bullcalf of each byre; and to maintain this rule there are seven wolves in hostageship at the sidewall in his house, and behind this a further security, that is, Maclocc, and 'tis he that pleads for them at Conaire's house. In Conaire's reign are the three crowns on Erin, namely, a crown of corn ears, and a crown of flowers, and a crown of oak mast. In his reign, too, each man deems the other's voice as melodious as the strings of lutes, because of the excellence of the law and the peace and the good-will prevailing throughout Erin. May God not bring that man there tonight! 'Tis sad to destroy him. 'Tis a branch through its blossom. 'Tis a swine that falls before mast. 'Tis an infant in age. Sad is the shortness of his life!" "It was my good luck," said Ingcel, if that he should be there, and there should be one destruction for another. His destruction is not more grievous to me than my father and my mother and my seven brothers, and the king of my country, whom I gave up to you before coming on the exchange of the rapine." "'Tis true, 'tis true!" said the evildoers who were along with the British marauders. The robbers made a start from the Strand of Fuirbthe, and brought a stone for each man to make a cairn; for this was the distinction which at first the Fians made between a "Destruction" and a "Route." A pillar-stone they used to plant when there would be a Rout. A cairn, however, they used to make when there would be a Destruction. At this time, then, they made a cairn, for it was a Destruction. Far from the house was this, that they might not be heard or seen therefrom. For two causes they built their cairn: first, since this was a custom in marauding; and, secondly, that they might find out their losses at the Hostel. Every one that would come safe from it would take his stone from the cairn: thus the stones of those that were slain would be left, and thence they would know their losses. And this is what men skilled in story recount, that for every stone in Carn Lecca there was one of the reavers killed at the Hostel. From that Carn Lecca in O'Kelly's country is named. A "boar of a fire" was kindled by the sons of Donn Desa to give warning to Conaire. So that was the first warning-beacon that was made in Erin, and from it to this day every warning beacon is kindled. This is what others recount: that it was on the eve of Samain (Allsaints) the destruction of the Hostel was wrought, and that from that beacon the beacon of Samain followed, and stones are placed in the Samain-fire. Then the reivers held a council at the place where they had put the cairn. "Well then," said Ingcel to the guides, what is nearest to us here?" "Easy to say: the Hostel of Da Derga, chief-hospitaller of Erin." "Good men indeed," said Ingcel, "were likely to seek their fellows at that Hostel tonight." This, then, was the counsel of the reavers, to send one of them to see how things were there. "Who will go there to espy the house?" asked every one. "Who should go," said Ingcel, "but I, for 'tis I that am entitled to dues." Ingcel went to reconnoiter the Hostel with one of the seven pupils of the single eye which stood out of his forehead, to fit his eye into the house in order to destroy the king and the warriors who were around him therein. And Ingcel saw them through the wheels of the chariots. Then Ingcel was perceived from the house. He hurried from it after being perceived. He went till he reached the reavers in the place wherein they were. Each circle of them was set around another to hear the tidings, the chiefs of the reavers being in the very center of the circles. There were Fer Ger and Fer Gel and Fer Rogel and Fer Rogain and Lomna the Buffoon, and Ingcel the One-eyed--six in the center of the circles. And Fer Rogain questioned Ingcel. "How is it, O Ingcel?" asks Fer Rogain. " However it be," answered Ingcel, "royal is the behavior, hurtful is the tumult: kingly is the noise thereof . Whether a king be there or not, I will take the house for what I have a right to. Thence my return for your depredations comes." "We have left it in thy hand, O Ingcel!" said Conaire's fosterbrothers. "But we should not wreak the destruction till we know who may be present in the Hostel." "Question: hast thou examined the house well, O Ingcel?" asked Fer Rogain. "My eye cast a rapid glance around it, and I will accept it for my dues as it stands." "Thou mayest well accept it, O Ingcel," said Fer Rogain: "the foster-father of us all is there, Erin's overking, Conaire son of Eterscel. Question: what sawest thou in the champion's high seat of the house, facing the king, on the opposite side?" "I saw there," said Ingcel, "a man of noble countenance, large, with a clear and sparkling eye, an even set of teeth, a face narrow below, broad above; fair, flaxen, golden hair upon him, and a proper filet around it; a brooch of silver in his mantle, and in his hand a gold-hilted sword. A shield with five golden circles upon it; a five-barbed javelin in his hand. A visage just, fair, ruddy he has; he is also beardless. Modest-minded is that man!" "And after that, whom sawest thou there?" said Fer Rogain. "There," said Ingcel, "I saw three men to the west of Cormac, and three to the east of him, and three in front of the same man. Thou wouldst deem that the nine of them had one mother and one father. They are of the same age, equally goodly, equally beautiful, all alike. Greenish mantles they all wore. Thin rods of gold in their mantles. Curved shields of bronze they bear. Ribbed javelins above them. An ivory-hilted sword in the hand of each. An unique feat they have, to wit, each of them takes his sword's point between his two fingers, and they twirl the swords round their fingers, and the swords afterwards extend themselves by themselves. Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain," said Ingcel. " Easy," said Fer Rogain, "for me to liken them. It is Conchobar's son Cormac Conlonges, the best hero behind a shield in the land of Erin. Of modest mind is that boy! Evil is what he dreads tonight. He is a, champion of valor for feats of arms; he is an hospitaller for householding. These are the nine who surround him, the three Dungusses, and the three Doelgusses, and the three Dangusses, the nine comrades of Cormac Conlonges son of Conchobar. They have never slain men on account of their misery, and they never spared them on account of their prosperity. Good is the hero who is among them, even Cormac Conlonges. I swear what my tribe swears, nine times ten will fall by Cormac in his first onset, and nine times ten will fall by his people, besides a man for each of their weapons, and a man for each of themselves. And Cormac will share prowess with any man before the Hostel, and he will boast of victory over a king or crown-prince or noble of the reavers; and he himself will chance to escape, though all his people be wounded. "And whom sawest thou next?" said Fer Rogain. "I saw another room there, with a huge trio in it: three brown, big men: three round heads of hair on them, even, equally long at nape and forehead. Three short black cowls about them reaching to their elbows: long hoods were on the cowls. Three black, huge swords they had, and three black shields they bore, with three dark broad green javelins above them. Thick as the spit of a cauldron was the shaft of each. Liken thou that, O Fer Rogainl" "Hard it is for me to find their like. I know not at all that trio? unless it be the trio of Pictland, who went into exile from their country, and are now in Conaire's household. These are their names: Dublonges son of Trebuat, and Trebuat son of O'Lonsce, and Curnach son of O'Faich. The three who are best in Pictland at taking arms are that trio. Nine times ten will fall at their hands in their first encounter, and a man will fall for each of their weapons, besides one for each of themselves. And they will share prowess with every trio in the Hostel. They will boast a victory over a king or a chief of the robbers; and they will afterwards escape though wounded. Woe to him who shall wreak the destruction, though it be only on account of those three! And whom sawest thou there afterwards?" "There," said Ingcel, "I beheld a room with nine men in it. Hair fair and yellow was on them: they all are equally handsome. Mantles speckled with color they wore, and above them were nine bagpipes, four-tuned, ornamented. Enough light in the palace were the ornaments on those four-tuned pipes. Liken thou them, O Fer Rogain." "Easy for me to liken them," said Fer Rogain. " Those are the nine pipers that came to Conaire out of the fairy-mound of Breg, because of the noble tales about him. These are their names: Bind, Robind, Riarbind, Sibe, Dibe, Deichrind Umall, Cumal, Ciallglind. They are the best pipers in the world. Nine times nine will fall before them, and a man for each of their weapons, and a man for each of themselves. And each of them will boast a victory over a king or a chief of the robbers. And they will escape from the destruction; for a conflict with them will be a conflict with a shadow. They will slay, but they will not be slain, for they are out of a fairy-mound. Woe to him who shall wreak the destruction, though it be only because of those nine! . . . And after that, whom rawest thou there?" said Fer Rogain. "There," said Ingcel, "I saw a room with one man in it. Rough cropt hair upon him. Though a sack of crab-apples should be flung on his head, not one of them would fall on the floor, but every apple would stick on his hair. His fleecy mantle was over him in the house. Every quarrel therein about seat or bed comes to his decision. Should a needle drop in the house, its fall would be heard when he speaks. Above him is a huge black tree, like a millshaft, with its paddles and its cap and its spike. Liken thou him, O Fer Rogain!" "Easy for me is this. Tuidle of Ulster is he, the steward of Conaire's household. 'Tis needful to hearken to the decision of that man, the man that rules seat and bed and food for each. 'Tis his household staff that is above him. That man will fight with you. I swear what my tribe swears, the dead at the destruction slain by him will be more numerous than the living. Thrice his number will fall by him, and he himself will fall there. Woe to him who shall wreak the destruction! . . . What sawest thou there after that?" said Fer Rogain. "There I beheld another room with a trio in it, three half furious nobles: the biggest of them in the middle, very noisy, rock-bodied, angry, smiting, dealing strong blows, who beats nine hundred in battle-conflict. A wooden shield, dark, covered with iron, he bears, with a hard rim, a shield whereon would fit the proper litter of four troops of ten weaklings. A boss thereon, the depth of a cauldron, fit to cook four oxen, a hollow maw, a great boiling, with four swine in its mid-maw. At his two smooth sides are two five-thwarted boats fit for three parties of ten in each of his two strong fleets. A spear he has, blue-red, handfitting, on its strong shaft. It stretches along the wall on the roof and rests on the ground. An iron point upon it, dark-red, dripping. Four amply-measured feet between the two points of its edge. Thirty amply-measured feet in his deadly-striking sword from dark point to iron hilt. It sends forth fiery sparks which illumine the Mid-court House from roof to ground. 'Tis an overpowering sight that I saw. A swoon from horror almost befell me while staring at those three. There is nothing stranger." "Two bald men were there by the man with hair. Two lakes by a mountain, two hides by a tree. Two boats near them full of thorns of a white thorntree on a circular board. And there seemed to me something like a slender stream of water on which the sun is shining, and its trickle down from it, and a hide arranged behind it, and a palace-housepost shaped like a great lance above it. A good weight of a plough-yoke is the shaft that is therein. Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain!" "Easy to liken him!" answered Fer Rogain. "That is Mac Cecht son of Snaide Teichid; the battle-soldier of Conaire son of Eterscel. Good is the hero Mac Cecht! Supine he was in his room, in his sleep, when thou beheldest him. The two bald men which thou sawest by the man with hair, these are his two knees by his head. The two lakes by the mountain which thou sawest, these are his two eyes by his nose. The two hides by a tree which thou safest, these are his two ears by his head. The two five-thwarted boats on a circular board, which thou sawest, these are his two sandals on his shield. The slender stream of water which thou sawest, whereon the sun shines, and its trickle down from it, this is the flickering of his sword. The hide which thou sawest arranged behind him, that is his sword's scabbard. The palace housepost which thou sawest, that is his lance; and he brandishes this spear till its two ends meet, and he hurls a wilful cast of it when he pleases. Good is the hero Mac Cecht!" "Six hundred will fall by him in his first encounter, and a man for each of his weapons, besides a man for himself. And he will share prowess with every one in the Hostel, and he will boast of triumph over a king or chief of the robbers in front of the Hostel. He will chance to escape though wounded. And when he shall come upon you out of the house, as numerous as hailstones, and grass on a green, and stars of heaven will be your cloven heads and skulls, and the clots of your brains, your bones and the heaps of your bowels, crushed by him and scattered throughout the ridges." Then with trembling and terror of Mac Cecht the robbers fled over three ridges. "And whom sawest thou next, O Ingcel?" said Fer Rogain. "I beheld there a room with a trio in it, to wit, a trio horrible, unheard-of, a triad of champions. . . . "Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain." said Ingcel. " 'Tis hard for me to liken that trio. Neither of the men of Erin nor of the men of the world do I know it, unless it be the trio that Mac Cecht brought out of the land of the Fomorians by dint of combats. Not one of the Fomorians was found to fight him, so he brought away those three, and they are in Conaire's house as sureties that, while Conaire is reigning, the Fomorians destroy neither corn nor milk in Erin beyond their fair tribute. Well may their aspect be loathly! Three rows of teeth in their heads from one ear to the other. An ox with a bacon-pig, this is the ration of each of them, and that ration which they put into their mouths is visible till it comes down past their navels. Bodies of bone without a joint in them all those three have. I swear what my tribe swears, more will be killed by them at the destruction than those they leave alive. Six hundred warriors will fall by them in their first conflict, and a man for each of their weapons, and one for each of the three themselves. And they will boast a triumph over a king or chief of the robbers. It will not be more than with a bite or a blow or a kick that each of those men will kill, for no arms are allowed them in the house, since they are in 'hostageship at the wall lest they do a misdeed therein. I swear what my tribe swears, if they had armor on them, they would slay us all but a third. Woe to him that shall wreak the destruction, because it is not a combat against sluggards." . . . And whom sawest thou there after that? " said Fer Rogain. and Birderg son of Ruan and Mal son of Telband "I beheld a room there, with a trio in it," said Ingcel. "Three brown, big men, with three brown heads of short hair. Thick ankles they had. As thick as a man's waist was each of their limbs. Three brown and curled masses of hair upon them, with a thick head; three cloaks, red and speckled, they wore; three black shields with clasps of gold, and three five-barbed javelins; and each had in hand all ivory-hilted sword. This is the feat they perform with their swords: they throw them high up, and they throw the scabbards after them, and the swords, before reaching the ground, place themselves in the scabbards. Then they throw the scabbards first, and the swords after them, and the scabbards meet the swords and place themselves round them before they reach the ground. Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain! " "Easy for me to liken them! Mal son of Telband, and Munremur mac Gerrcind, and Birderg son of Ruan. Three crownprinces, three champions of valor, three heroes the best behind weapons in Erin ! A hundred heroes will fall by them in their first conflict, and they will share prowess with every man in the Hostel, and they will boast of the victory over a king or chief of the robbers, and afterwards they will chance to escape. The destruction should not be wrought even because of those three." "And after that whom,sawest thou?" said Fer Rogain. "There I beheld a room, more beautifully decorated than the other rooms of the house. A silvery curtain around it, and there were ornaments in the room. I beheld a trio in it. The outer two of them were, both of them, fair, with their hair and eyelashes; and they are as bright as snow. A very lovely blush on the cheek of each of the twain. A tender lad in the midst between them. The ardor and energy of a king has he, and the counsel of a sage. The mantle I saw around him is even as the mist of Mayday. Diverse are the hue and semblance each moment shewn upon it. Lovelier is each hue than the other. In front of him in the mantle I beheld a wheel of gold which reached from his chin to his navel. The color of his hair was like the sheen of smelted gold. Of all the world's forms that I ever beheld, this is the most beautiful. I saw his golden-hilted sword down beside him. A forearm's length of the sword was outside the scabbard. That part was so bright that a man down in the front of the house could see a flesh-worm by the shadow of the sword! Sweeter is the melodious sounding of the sword than the melodious sound of the golden pipes that accompany music in the palace. "Now the young warrior was asleep, with his feet in the lap of one of the two men and his head in the lap of the other." "Liken thou him, O Fer Rogain," said Ingcel. " Easy for me to liken him," said Fer Rogain. "No conflict without a king." He is the most splendid and noble and beautiful and mighty king that has come into the whole world. He is the mildest and gentlest and most perfect king that has come to it, that is, Conaire son of Eterscel. 'Tis he that is high-king of all Erin. There is no defect in that man, whether in form or shape or vesture: whether in size or fitness or proportion, whether in eye or hair or brightness, whether in wisdom or skill or eloquence, whether in weapon or dress or appearance, whether in splendor or abundance or dignity, whether in knowledge or valor or kindred. "Great is the tenderness of the sleepy, loveable man till he has chanced on a deed of valor; but if his fury and his courage be awakened when the champions of Erin and Alba are with him in the house, the destruction will not be wrought so long as he is therein. Six hundred will fall by Conaire before he shall attain his arms, and seven hundred will fall by him in his first conflict after attaining his arms. I swear what my tribe swears, unless drink be taken from him, though there be no one else in the house but he alone, he would hold the Hostel until help would reach it which men would prepare for him from the Wave of Clidna and the Wave of Assaroe while ye are at the Hostel." "Nine doors there are to the house, and at each door a hundred warriors will fall by his hand. And when every one in the house has ceased to ply his weapon, 'tis then he will resort to a deed of arms. And if he chance to come upon you out of the house, as numerous as hailstones and grass on a green will be your halves of heads and your cloven skulls and your bones under the edge of his sword." " 'Tis my opinion that he will not chance to get out of the house. Dear to him are the two that are with him in the room, his two fosterers, Dris and Snithe. Thrice fifty warriors will fall before each of them in front of the Hostel, and not farther than a foot from him, on this side and that, will they fall," said Fer Rogain. "Woe to him who shall wreak the destruction, were it only because of that pair and the prince that is between them, the high-king of Erin, Conaire son of Eterscel! Sad were the quenching of that reign!" said Lomna the Buffoon son of Donn Desa. "And after that, whom rawest thou there?" said Fer Rogain. "There," said Ingcel, "I beheld a great champion, in front of the same room, on the floor of the house. The shame of baldness is on him. White as mountain cotton-grass is each hair that grows through his head. Earrings of gold around his ears. A mantle speckled, colored, he wore. Nine swords in his hand, and nine silvern shields, and nine apples of gold. He throws each of them upwards, and none of them falls on the ground, and there is only one of them on his palm; each of them rising and falling past another is like the movement to and fro of bees on a day of beauty. When he was swiftest, I beheld him at the feat, and as I looked, the company uttered a cry about him and his implements were all on the house-floor. Then the prince who is in the house said to the juggler: We have been together since thou wast a little boy, and till tonight thy juggling never failed thee." "Alas, alas, fair master Conaire, good cause have I. A keen, angry eye looked at me: a man with the third of a pupil which sees the going of the nine bands. Not much to him is that keen, wrathful sight! Battles are fought with it," said he. "It should be known till doomsday that there is evil in front of the Hostel." "And after that whom sawest thou?" said Fer Rogain. "I beheld the room that is next," said Ingcel. "Three chief champions, in their first greyness, are therein. As thick as a man's waist is each of their limbs. They have three black swords, each as long as a weaver's beam. These swords would split a hair on water. A great lance in the hand of the midmost man, with fifty rivets through it. The shaft therein is a good load for the yoke of a plough team. The midmost man brandishes that lance so that its edge studs hardly stay therein, and he strikes the shaft thrice against his palm. There is a great boiler in front of them, as big as a calf's cauldron, wherein is a black and horrible liquid, and he plunges the lance into that black fluid. If its quenching be delayed, it flames on its shaft and then thou wouldst suppose that there is a fiery dragon in the top of the house. Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain!" "Easy to say. Three heroes who are best at grasping weapons in Erin, namely, Sencha the beautiful son of Ailill, and Dubtach Chafertongue of Ulster, and Goibniu son of Lurgnech. And the spear Luin of Celtchar mac Uthecair, which was found in the battle of Mag Tured, this is in the hand of Dubtach Chafertongue of Ulster. That feat is usual for it when it is ripe to pour forth a foeman's blood. A cauldron full of poison is needed to quench it when a deed of manslaying is expected. Unless this come to the lance, it flames on its haft and will go through its bearer or the master of the palace wherein it is. It will kill a man at every blow, when it is at its work, from one hour to another, even though it may not reach him. It will kill nine men at every cast, and one of the nine will be a king or crown-prince or chieftain of the robbers." "I swear what my tribe swears, there will be a multitude unto whom tonight the Luin of Celtchar will deal drinks of death in front of the Hostel. I swear what my tribe swears, that in their first encounter three hundred will fall by those three heroes, and they will share prowess with every three in the Hostel tonight. And they will boast of victory over a king or chief of the robbers, and the three will chance to escape. And after that, whom sawest thou there?" said Fer Rogain. "There I beheld a room with a trio in it," said Ingcel. "Three men mighty, manly, overbearing, which see no one abiding at their three hideous, crooked aspects. A fearful view because of the terror of them. A dress of rough hair covers them; their savage eyes look out through a thatch of cows' hair, without garments, enwrapping them down to the heels. With three manes, equine, awful, majestic, down to their sides. Fierce heroes who wield against foemen hard-smiting swords. A blow they give with three iron flails having seven chains triple-twisted, three-edged, with seven iron knobs at the end of every chain: each of them as heavy as an ingot of ten smeltings. Three big brown men. Dark equine back-manes on them, which reach their two heels. Two good thirds of an oxhide in the girdle round each one's waist, and each quadrangular clasp that closes it as thick as a man's thigh. The raiment that is round them is the hairy coat that grows on them. Tresses of their back-manes were outspread, and a long staff of iron, as long and thick as an outer yoke, was in each man's hand, and an iron chain out of the end of every club, and at the end of every chain an iron pestle as long and thick as a middle yoke. They stand in their sadness in the house, and enough is the horror of their aspect. There is no one in the house that would not be avoiding them. Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain!" Fer Rogain was silent. "Hard for me to liken them. I know none such of the world's men unless they be that trio of giants to whom Cu Chulainn gave quarter at the beleaguerment of the Men of Falga (the isle of Man), and when they were getting quarter they killed fifty warriors. But Cu Chulainn would not let them be slain, because of their wondrousness. These are the names of the three; Srubdaire son of Dordbruige, and Conchenn of Cenn Maige, and Fiad Sceme son of Scipe. Conaire bought them from Cu Chulainn; so they are along with him. Three hundred will fall by them in their first encounter, and they will surpass in prowess every three in the Hostel ; and if they come forth upon you, the fragments of you will be fit to go through the sieve of a cornkiln, from the way in which they will destroy you with the flails of iron. Woe to him that shall wreak the destruction, though it were only on account of those three! And after that, whom sawest Thou there?" said Fer Rogain. "There I beheld another room," said Ingcel, "with one man therein and in front of him two servants with two manes upon them, one of the two dark, the other fair. Red hair on the warrior, and red eyebrows. Two ruddy cheeks he had, and an eye very blue and beautiful. He wore a, green cloak and a shirt with a white hood and a red insertion. In his hand was a sword with a hilt of ivory, and he supplied attendants of every room in the house with ale and food, and he quick-footed in serving the whole host. Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain!" "I know those men. The chief one is Da Derga. 'Tis by him that the Hostel was built, and since it was built its doors have never been shut save on the side to which the wind comes, the opening is closed against it and since he began house-keeping his cauldron was never taken from the fire, but it has been boiling food for the men of Erin. The pair before him, those two youths, are his fosterlings, two sons of the king of Leinster, namely Muredach and Cairbre. Three tens will fall by that trio in front of their house and they will boast of victory over a king or a chief of the robbers. After this they will chance to escape from it. And after that whom sawest thou there?" said Fer Rogain. "There I beheld a room with a trio in it," said Ingcel. "Three red mantles they wore, and three red shirts, and three red heads of hair were on them. Red were they all even together with their teeth. Three red shields above them. Three red spears in their hands. Three red horses in their bridles in front of the Hostel. Liken thou that, O Fer Rogain!" "Easily done. Three champions who wrought falsehood in the fairy-mounds. This is the punishment inflicted upon them by the king of the fairy-mounds, to be destroyed thrice by the king of Tara. Conaire son of Eterscel is the last king by whom they are destroyed. Those men will escape from you. To fulfil their own destruction, they have come. But they will not be slain, nor will they slay anyone-" "Rise up, then, ye champions!" said Ingcel," and get you on to the Hostel!" With that the marauders marched to the Hostel, and made a murmur about it. "Silence a while!" said Conaire, "what is that?" "Champions at the house," said Conall Cenerach of Ulster. "There are warriors for them here," answered Conaire. "They will be needed tonight," Conall Cernach rejoined. Then went Lomna the Buffoon before the host of robbers into the Hostel. The doorkeepers struck off his head. Then the head was thrice flung into the Hostel, and thrice Cast out of it. Then Conaire himself sallied out of the Hostel together with some of his people, and they fought with the host of robbers, and six hundred fell by Conaire before he could get to his arms. Then the Hostel was thrice set on fire, and thrice put out by the other side: and it was found that the destruction would never have been wrought had not the use of his weapons been taken from Conaire. Thereafter Conaire went to seek his arms, and he donned his battledress and fell to plying his weapons on the marauders, together with the band that he had. Then, after getting his arms, six hundred fell by him in his first encounter. After this the reavers were routed. "I have told you," said Fer Rogain son of Donn Desa, "that if the champions of the men of Erin and Alba attack Conaire at the house, the destruction will not be wrought unless Conaire's fury and valor be quelled." "Short will his time be," said the wizards along with the robbers. This was the quelling they brought: a great thirst that seized him. Thereafter Conaire entered the house, and asked for a drink. "A drink to me, O master Mac Cecht!" says Conaire. Says Mac Cecht: "This is not the office that I have fulfilled for thee, to give thee a drink. There are waiters and cupbearers who bring drink to thee. The command I have hitherto had from thee is to protect thee when the champions of the men of Erin and Alba may be attacking thee around the Hostel. Thou wilt go safe from them, and no spear shall enter thy body. Ask a drink of thy waiters and thy cupbearers." Then Conaire asked a drink of his waiters and his cupbearers who were in the house. "In the first place there is none," they said; "all the liquids that had been in the house have been spilt on the fires." The cupbearers found no drink for him in the River Dodder, and the Dodder had flowed through the house. Then Conaire again asked for a drink. "A drink to me, O fosterer, O Mac Cecht! 'Tis equal to me what death I shall die, for anyhow I shall perish." Then Mac Cecht gave a choice to the champions of valor of the men of Erin who were in the house, whether they cared to protect the king or to seek a drink for him. Conall Cernach answered this in the house and cruel he deemed the choice offered, and afterwards he had always a feud with Mac Cecht." Leave the defence of the king to us," says Conall, "and go thou to seek the drink, for of thee it is demanded." So then Mac Cecht fared forth to seek the drink, and he took Conaire's son, Le Fri Flaith, under his armpit, and Conaire's golden cup, in which an ox with a bacon-pig would be boiled; and he bore his shield and his two spears and his sword, and he carried the cauldron-spit, a spit of iron. He burst forth upon the marauders, and in front of the Hostel he dealt nine blows with the iron spit, and at every blow nine robbers fell. Then he made a sloping feat of the shield and an edge-feat of the sword about his head, and he delivered a hostile attack upon them. Six hundred fell in his first encounter, and after cutting down hundreds he went through the band outside. The doings of the folk of the Hostel, this is what is here examined, presently. Howbeit then, but it is long to relate, 'tis weariness of mind, 'tis confusion of the senses, 'tis tediousness to hearers, 'tis superfluity of narration to go over the same things twice. But the folk of the Hostel came forth in order, and fought their combats with the robbers, and fell by them, as Fer Rogain and Lomna the Buffoon had said to Ingcel, to wit, that the folk of every room would sally forth still and deliver their combat, and after that escape. So that none were left in the Hostel in Conaire's company save Conall and Sencha and Dubtach. Now from the vehement ardor and the greatness of the contest which Conaire had fought, his great drouth of thirst attacked him, and he perished of a consuming fever, for he got not his drink. So when the king died those three sallied out of the Hostel, and delivered a cunning deed of reaving on the marauders, and fared forth from the Hostel, wounded, broken and maimed. As for Mac Cecht, however, he went his way till he reached the Well of Casair (the source of the River Dodder), which was near him in the district of Cualu; but of water he found not therein the full of his cup, that is, Conaire's golden cup which he had brought in his hand. Before morning he had gone round the chief rivers of Erin; to wit, Bush, Boyne, Bann, Barrow, Neim, Luae, Laigdae, Shannon, Suir, Sligo, Samair, Find, Ruirthech, Slaney, and in them he found not the full of his cup of water. Then before morning he had travelled to the chief lakes of Erin; to wit, Loch Derg, Loch Luimnig, Loch Foyle, Loch Mask, Loch Corrib, Loch Laig, Loch Cuan, Loch Neagh, Morloch, and of water he found not therein the full of his cup. He went his way till he reached Uaran Garad on Mag Ai. It could not hide itself from him: so he brought thereout the full of his cup, and the boy fell under his covering. After this he went on and reached Da Derga's Hostel before morning. When Mac Cecht went across the third ridge towards the house, there were two men striking off Conaire's head. Then Mac Cecht struck off the head of one of the two men who had beheaded Conaire. The other man then was fleeing with the king's head. A pillar-stone chanced to be under'Mac Cecht's feet on the floor of the Hostel. He hurled it at the man who had Conaire's head and drove it through his spine, so that his back broke. After this Mac Cecht beheaded him. Mac Cecht then spilt the cup of water into Conaire's gullet and neck. Then said Conaire's head, after the water had been put into its neck and gullet: A good man Mac Cecht! an excellent man Mac Cecht! After this Mac Cecht followed the routed foe. Now when Mac Cecht was lying wounded on the battlefield, at the end of the third day, he saw a woman passing by. "Come hither, O woman!" said Mac Cecht. "I dare not go thus," said the woman, "for horror and fear of thee." "There was a time, O woman, when people had horror and fear of me; but now thou shouldst fear nothing. I accept thee on the truth of my honor and my safeguard." Then the woman went to him. "I know not," said he, "whether it is a fly, or a gnat, or an ant that nips me in the wound." It really was a hairy wolf that was there, as far as its two shoulders in the wound! The woman seized it by the tail, dragged it out of the wound, and it took the full of its jaws out of him. "Truly," said the woman, "this is an ant of ancient land." Said Mac Cecht, "I swear what my people swears, I deemed it no bigger than a fly, or a gnat, or an ant." And Mac Cecht took the wolf by the throat, and struck it a blow on the forehead, and killed it with a single blow. Then Le Fri Flaith son of Conaire died under Mac Cecht's armpit, for the warrior's heat and sweat had dissolved him. Thereafter Mac Cecht, having cleansed the slaughter, at the end of the third day, set forth, and he dragged Conaire with him on his back, and buried him at Tara, as some say. Then Mac Cecht departed into Connacht, to his own country, that he might work his cure in Mag Brengair. Wherefore the name clave to the plain from Mac Cecht's misery, that is, Mag Brengair. Now Conall Cernach escaped from the Hostel, and thrice fifty spears had gone through the arm which upheld his shield. He fared forth till he reached his father's house, with half his shield in his hand, and his sword, and the fragments of his two spears. Then he found his father before the enclosure surrounding his stronghold in Tailltiu. "Swift are the wolves that have hunted thee, my son," said his father. "This is what we have had of conflict against warriors, thou old hero," Conall Cernach replied. "Hast thou then news of Da Derga's Hostel?" asked Amergin. "Is thy lord alive?" "He is not alive," said Conall. "I swear by the gods by whom the great tribes of Ulster swear, it is cowardly for the man who went thereout alive, having left his lord with his foes in death," said the father of Conall Cernach. "My wounds are not white, thou old hero," said Conall. He showed him his shield-arm, whereon were thrice fifty wounds which had been inflicted upon it. The shield that guarded it is what saved it. But the right arm had been played upon, as far as two thirds thereof, since the shield had not been guarding it. That arm was mangled and maimed and wounded and pierced, save that the sinews kept it to the body without separation. "That arm fought tonight, my son," says Amergin. "True is that, thou old hero," says Conall Cernach. "Many there are unto whom it gave drinks of death tonight in front of the Hostel." Now as to the marauders, every one of them that escaped from the Hostel went to the cairn which they had built on the night before last, and they brought thereout a stone for each man not mortally wounded. So this is what they lost by death at the Hostel, a man for every stone that is now in Carn Lecca. END [1] According to "The Wooing of Etain" , the king was Eochaid Airem. [2] Cormac Conlonges figures prominently in the Ulster cycle as the son of the famous king Conchobar of Ulster. Other characters from the Ulster cycle appear or are referred to later in the story. |
