The Tain Read online

Page 4


  through Drong, the Tribe,

  through Delt,

  through Duelt,

  through Deland,

  through Selach,

  through Slabra, the Chain,

  through Slechta, the Cut, where they cut their way through,

  through Cúl, the Backwater, of Siblinne,

  by Dub, the Blackwater,

  southwards through Ochon,

  through Catha,

  southwards through Cromma, the Crooked Plain,

  through Tromma, the Heavy Plain,

  eastwards through Fodromma,

  through Sláine,

  through Gort Sláine,

  southwards through Druim Licce, the Flagstone Ridge,

  through Áth Gabla, the Ford of the Fork,

  through Ard Achad, the High Field,

  northwards by Feorann, the Green Sward,

  through Finnabair, the White Stream,

  southwards through Assa,

  through Airne,

  through Aurthaile,

  through Druim Salfind, the White-heeled Ridge,

  through Druim Caín, the Fair Ridge,

  through Druim Caimthechta, the Ridge of the Crooked Road,

  through Druim MacDega,

  through the Lesser Eo Dond, the Brown Yew,

  through the Greater Eo Dond,

  through Méide in Togmaill, the Stoat’s Neck,

  through Méide in Eoin, the Bird’s Neck,

  through Baile, the Town,

  through Aille, the Cliffs,

  through Dall Scena, the Knife’s Blind Spot,

  through Ball Scena, the Knife’s Resting-place,

  through Ross Mór, the Promontory,

  through Scuap, the Broom,

  through Imscuap, the Better Broom,

  through Cenn Ferna, the Man’s Head,

  through Anmag, the Plain of Plains,

  through Fid Mor, the Great Wood,

  through Colbtha, the Yearlings,

  by the River Cronn,

  through Druim Caín on the road to Midluachair, Among the Rushes

  to Finnabair in Cúailnge.

  Such was the route they took.

  III

  THEY GET

  TO KNOW

  ABOUT

  CÚ CHULAINN

  ON THE FIRST stage of their march they went from Crúachan to Cúl Sílinne, the site of Lóch Carrcin today. Medb told her driver to hitch up her nine chariots for her to make a circuit of the camp, to see who was keen to be on the march, and who was not so keen.

  Meanwhile Ailill’s tent had been pitched, and fitted with beds and blankets. Next to Ailill was Fergus Mac Róich in his tent; next to Fergus, Cormac Conn Longas; next to him, Conall Cernach; and next to him, Fiacha Mac Fir Febe, the son of Conchobar’s daughter. Medb, daughter of Eochaid Fedlech, was on Aillil’s other side; next to her, their daughter Finnabair; next to her was Flidais. Not to mention underlings and servants.

  Medb came back from inspecting the army and said it wouldn’t do for them to proceed further if the three-thousand-strong division of the Gailéoin1 were to go as well.

  ‘Why do you disrespect them?’ said Ailill.

  ‘I don’t disrespect them,’ said Medb. ‘They are excellent soldiers. While the others were just getting round to building their huts, they had thatched theirs, and were busy cooking. While the others were beginning to eat, they had finished, and their harpers were playing for them. So it won’t do for them to come. They’d take all the credit for our army’s triumph.’

  ‘But they’re on our side,’ said Ailill.

  ‘They can’t come,’ said Medb.

  ‘Let them stay, then,’ said Ailill.

  ‘They can’t stay,’ said Medb, ‘for by the time we’ve come back, they’ll have seized all our lands.’

  ‘What’s to be done with them, then,’ said Ailill, ‘since neither their coming nor their staying pleases you?’

  ‘Wipe them out,’ said Medb.

  ‘A typical woman’s ploy, I have to say,’ said Ailill.

  ‘And it won’t happen,’ said Fergus, ‘unless you wipe out all of us, for the Gailéoin are allies of us Ulster exiles.’

  ‘That could be arranged,’ said Medb. ‘I have here my household guard of two divisions, each three thousand strong, and my sons the seven Maines are here, with their seven divisions, lucky as they are in battle. There’s Maine Máithramail the Motherlike, Maine Athramail the Fatherlike, Maine Mórgor the Loyal Man, Maine Mingor the Loyal Boy, Maine Móepirt the Incomparable, whom some call Maine Milscothach the Sweet Talker, Maine Andoe the Quick Man, and Maine Cotagaib Uile, the Man of All Qualities, who is the image of both his father and his mother, and who bears himself as proudly.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that,’ said Fergus. ‘For we have seven kings of Munster here, each with his division of three thousand. And I could take you on right now, in this camp, my own division helped by those seven divisions, not to mention the three thousand Gailéoin. But let’s not go into that,’ said Fergus. ‘We can arrange things so that the Gailéoin will prove no threat to the main force. We have seventeen divisions encamped here, three thousand in each division, not counting camp followers, and children, and women, for each king in Medb’s company has brought his consort. The Gailéoin make up the eighteenth division. Let them be split up among the whole army.’

  ‘Whatever it takes,’ said Medb, ‘provided they don’t stay in the close ranks they form now.’

  So it was done. The Gailéoin were split up among the whole army, so that no five of them remained together.

  Next morning they set off towards Móin Coltna, the Banquet Bog. They came across eight score deer in a single herd. They encircled them and killed them. Wherever there was a Gailéoin soldier, he got a deer. The rest of the army got five deer between them. Then they came to Mag Trega, the Plain of Spears, where they camped and prepared their food. Some people say that it was here that Dubthach2 chanted this verse:

  Listen well to Dubthach’s words

  uttered in a dream of strife –

  armies gearing up because

  the White Horn left Ailill’s wife.

  One man equal to a force

  protects Muirthemne’s cattle.

  Since two swineherds once were friends,3

  crows drink the milk of battle.

  The dark waters of the Cronn

  will keep them from Muirthemne,

  until soldier’s work be done

  up North at Mount Ochaíne.

  Quick, says Ailill to Cormac,

  come and stand by your son’s side.

  Cattle graze upon the plain,

  battle-din spreads far and wide.

  War will come when it is due

  with a third of Medb’s forces.

  Should the Torqued Man come to you

  he’ll make dead meat of you all.

  Then the Nemain – the Battle Goddess4 – assailed them. It was not the quietest of nights for them, for Dubthach kept bawling out in his sleep. Many started from their beds, and panic swept through the ranks until Medb came forth and restored order.

  ∗

  The army marched on. They discussed who should lead them from one province to the other, and it was agreed it should be Fergus, because this, for him, was a grudge war: he had been King of Ulster for seven years, and when the sons of Usnech had been put to death despite his guarantees, he had left the province, and had been seventeen years away from Ulster in enmity and exile. So it seemed right that Fergus should be their leader. Fergus led them, but he still felt pangs of affection for the people of his native province, and he led the troops astray, making a great detour to the south; and he sent messengers to warn the Ulstermen, and employed a series of delaying tactics. Ailill and Medb noticed this, and Medb said:

  Fergus, this is a strange way.

  Do we go back or forward?

  To the north and south we stray

  through every kind of border.

  F
ergus replied:

  Medb, what disorders you so?

  There’s no double-crossing here.

  Woman, we need to go slow

  to the Ulstermen’s empire.

  Medb said:

  Ailill and I were afraid

  that you’d played the army false.

  Or perhaps your mind has strayed

  from taking the proper course?

  Fergus replied:

  The crooked way that I went

  was not to betray our men

  but rather to circumvent

  the Guard of Muirthemne Plain.

  Medb said:

  If you are swayed by kinship,

  don’t you think you should abstain

  from leading horses? Perhaps

  someone else should take the reins.

  Fergus replied:

  My mind has not gone astray

  from homesickness. I just mean

  to put off the certain day

  when we shall meet Cú Chulainn.

  After the army had been led astray over bogland and border, they went to Granard in North Tebtha, where they spent the night. Meanwhile Fergus’s warning messages had been received by the Ulstermen, who were still laid low by the Curse, all except Cú Chulainn and his father Sualdam. When they got Fergus’s message they went as far as Ard Cuillenn, the Holly Height, to watch for the enemy forces. Their horses grazed around the pillar-stone that stands there. Sualdam’s horses cropped the grass down to the soil on the north side, and Cú Chulainn’s horses cropped the grass down to the soil and the bedrock on the south side.

  ‘Father, I feel it in my bones,’ said Cú Chulainn, ‘that the enemy is near. Go and warn the Ulstermen not to stay on the open plains, but to keep to the woods and the wastelands and the wild glens of the province so as to evade the Irish army.’

  ‘And you, my son, where will you go?’

  ‘I must go south to Tara, to meet Fedelm Noíchroide’ – some people say he meant to spend the night with her bondmaid, who was secretly his bedfellow – ‘to fulfil a solemn promise I made to her.’

  ‘Shame on anyone who does so,’ said Sualdam, ‘and leaves the Ulstermen to be ground underfoot by their enemies, for the sake of going to see a woman.’

  ‘But I must go, for if I don’t, men’s promises will be called lies, and women’s promises the truth.’

  Sualdam went to warn the Ulstermen. Cú Chulainn went into the wood and with a single stroke he cut a prime oak sapling. Closing one eye, and using one foot and one hand, he made a hoop of it. He cut an ogam5 inscription on the peg of the hoop, and he put the hoop around the narrow part of the standing stone of Ard Cuillenn, and he forced the hoop down on to the thick part of the stone. Then he went on to see his woman.

  The Irish army approached Ard Cuillenn. Eirr and Innel and their two charioteers Foich and Fochlam6 – the four sons of Iraird Mac Anchinne – were at the head of the army. It was their job to keep the cloaks and rugs and brooches of the main force from being soiled by the dust raised up as they advanced. They found the hoop left there by Cú Chulainn, and noticed how Sualdam’s horses had cropped the grass down to the soil, while Cú Chulainn’s had cropped it down to the bedrock. They sat and waited till the main force came up, and their harpers played for them. They gave the hoop to Fergus Mac Róich, who read out the ogam inscription on it.

  When Medb arrived she said:

  ‘Why are you waiting here?’

  ‘We’re waiting,’ said Fergus, ‘because of this hoop. There’s an ogam message on its peg, which reads, “Proceed no further, unless a man among you can make a hoop like this from one tree with one hand. Anyone except my comrade Fergus.” Obviously, Cú Chulainn has done this. It was his horses that grazed here.’

  He gave the hoop to a druid and chanted this verse:

  This hoop: what does it imply?

  What is its secret intent?

  And how many put it here?

  One man? Or a regiment?

  Will havoc strike our forces

  if we overstep this mark?

  Druids, explain if you can

  these words cut into the bark.

  The druid replied:

  A great soldier cut this hoop

  to confound his enemies

  and contain a royal troop –

  just one man, with just one hand.

  The king’s army must obey

  or transgress the rule of war,

  unless one of you finds a way

  to do what one has done.

  That is all I know of why

  the hoop was left on the stone.

  Then Fergus said:

  ‘If you ignore this hoop and go past it, I swear that the great soldier who made it will find you, though you be hidden underground or in a locked room, and he will kill one of you before morning, unless you make a hoop just as he did.’

  ‘We are not so eager for one of our men to be killed just yet,’ said Ailill. ‘Let’s make our way through the wood to the south of us, Fid Dúin. We don’t need to go this way.’

  The army cut down the wood to make a road for the chariots. The place is called Slechta, the Cut.

  According to another account, however, it was here that the colloquy between Medb and the Prophetess Fedelm took place, as related above; and the wood was cut down after an answer she gave to Medb, thus:

  ‘Look for me,’ said Medb, ‘and see how my army will do.’

  ‘It is hard for me,’ said the young woman. ‘I can’t see them properly for the wood.’

  ‘We’ll soon change that,’ said Medb. ‘We’ll cut down the wood.’

  So it was done, and Slechta is the name of that place. The Cut.

  It is here that the Partraigi7 dwell.

  They spent the night in Cúil Sibrille – Cennannas,8 as it is now known. A heavy snow fell on them, up to the men’s belts and the chariot-wheels. They could prepare no food nor could they sleep, and they rose early to make their way across the glistening snow.

  As for Cú Chulainn, it wasn’t so early when he got up after spending the night with his woman. Then he had to wash and bathe, and it was later still when he told his charioteer, Láeg,9 to hitch up the horses. Eventually they found the tracks of the army.

  ‘If only we hadn’t gone there,’ said Cú Chulainn, ‘and betrayed the men of Ulster. We’ve let the army come through and gave no warning. Make an estimate of the enemy’s numbers.’

  Láeg examined the tracks from all sides, and said to Cú Chulainn:

  ‘They’re all mixed up. I can’t arrive at an estimate.’

  ‘They wouldn’t be mixed up if I looked at them,’ said Cú Chulainn.

  ‘Get out of the chariot,’ said Láeg.

  Cú Chulainn got out of the chariot and examined the tracks for a long time.

  ‘Even you don’t find it easy,’ said Láeg.

  ‘It is easier for me, however,’ said Cú Chulainn, ‘for I have three gifts – namely, the gift of sight, the gift of intellect and the gift of reckoning. I’ve reckoned up the numbers. There are eighteen divisions, each three thousand strong, but the eighteenth division – the three thousand Gailéoin – has been split up among the whole army, and that’s what mixed up the count.’

  Then Cú Chulainn made a detour around the army, till he came to Áth Grena, the Sunny Ford. He cut the fork of a tree with one stroke of his sword. He cut an ogam message on it and stuck it in the middle of the stream, so that a chariot could not pass on this side or that. No sooner done, than Eirr and Innel and their two charioteers Foich and Fochlam came upon him. He cut off their four heads and impaled them on the four prongs of the fork.

  The horses of the four men went back to the army with their reins trailing and their harness covered in blood. Everyone thought they must have met a battle-force at the ford. A scouting party was sent ahead to see what had happened, but they saw nothing but the track of a single chariot and the fork with the four heads and the ogam inscription on it. Then the whole army came up.<
br />
  ‘Are those the heads of some of our people?’ said Medb.

  ‘They are indeed, and some of our best people at that,’ said Ailill.

  One of the men read out the ogam writing on the side of the fork:

  ‘One man stuck this fork here with one hand, and none shall pass it unless one of you pluck it out with one hand.’

  ‘I’m astonished,’ said Ailill, ‘at how quickly the four were killed.’

  ‘You should be more astonished,’ said Fergus, ‘that the fork was struck from the trunk with a single stroke, as will be seen by the single cut at its base, for it was planted without a hole being dug for it, and thrown with one hand from the back of a chariot.’

  ‘Fergus, get us out of this fix,’ said Medb.

  ‘Bring me a chariot,’ said Fergus.

  They brought Fergus a chariot. He tugged at the fork with all his might, and the chariot broke into bits under him.

  ‘Bring me another chariot,’ said Fergus.

  Again he tugged at the fork, and again the chariot broke into bits under him.

  He broke seventeen of the Connachtmen’s chariots in this way. Then he said:

  ‘Bring me my own chariot.’

  From his own chariot he pulled the fork from where it had been planted, and they saw that its base was a single cut.

  Then Fergus chanted this verse:

  Here is the famous forked pole

  the hard man Cú Chulainn spiked

  with the lopped heads of four foes

  posted as a sign of spite.

  Before none however brave

  would he retreat from the fork.

  The Hound left with limbs unscathed

  and blood dripping from the bark.

  Woe to the troops that march east

  to hunt the rugged Brown Bull.

  Men will be cut to pieces

  by the fierce sword of the Hound.

  Difficult to take the Bull

  in battle with weapons keen.

  When a thousand heads have rolled

  Ireland and her tribes will weep.

  Nothing more shall I say now