Part 7

On the morrow, on the vast plains of Moytura, the great and terrible Battle of the Kites was fought. It was so called because after a day of dreadful slaughter the kites and hawks assembled in multitudes, and were satiated with the feast of the dead. In that battle the fiercest strife was on the part of four heroes: Lu the Ildanna, and the three sons of Turenn. For hours the swaying and whirling of spears, the rush of javelins, the flashing of swords, the trampling of horses and crash of war-chariots, made the plain of Moytura a place of savage din and fury. For long it seemed as though the great might and numbers of the Fomorians would give the day to Bras, son of Balor of the Evil Eye; but so great was the prowess of the Dedannan host, that the Fomorians were mowed down as ripe grain.

In the wane of the afternoon, Bras and Lu met at last. The tides of war ceased, for all men wished to see the battle-meeting of these two champions.

But already Bras had seen that the day had gone against the glory of Lochlin, and he knew that an hour hence his great army would be utterly routed, and that all who did not straightway escape to the shores of Connaught and gain the Fomorian galleys would be tracked and cut down like flying wolves.

So he lowered his great spear, and threw his shield upon the ground, and thereafter asked Lu to stay the tides of battle, and agreed that the day should be accounted as a final victory to the men of Erin. And the son of the king of Lochlin further agreed, that if Lu and the leaders of the Dedannans would do this, he would give a solemn bond to withdraw all the Fomorians from Erin, to cancel for ever the bond put upon the Tuatha-De-Danann by Balor of the Evil Eye, and never to return again in enmity, neither he nor any Fomorian of the north nor southlander of lower Lochlin.

And thus it was that the great battle of Moytura, the Battle of the Kites, came to an end. A year thereafter the grass was not yet green, and the plain was covered with the white bones of the innumerous dead.

When all was over, and Bras and his defeated army were hasting towards the distant Connaught shores, Lu threw from him his blood-stained armour and the weapons he was almost too weary to bear. All day he had fought, as only the mightiest heroes fight, and many strong and valorous men had marvelled at his dauntless courage and at the prowess that failed not for one moment.

Glad was Lu of the Long Hand to see Ald and Art, but when he asked how his father had fared in the battle, and heard that he had not been there, and had been seen of no man that day, he knew that Kian the Noble was no longer alive.

“For,” he said, “if my father were alive he would have been with me this day, or, if peradventure that were not possible, would have sent me a sign. Howsoever this may be, something within me tells that my father is no longer among the living. And now, ye who hear me, listen, for by the Sun and the Moon and the Wind I swear that I shall not slake this bitter thirst of mine, nor rest this over-weary head, until I have found how and where and when an evil fate came upon my father, whom I loved as I have loved and love none other.”

That night Lu Ildanna, with a hundred chosen men, rode swiftly to Tara, but there found no word of Kian.

On the morrow he set forth at dawn, alone; for in a dream it had come to him that his father lay moaning beneath the thistle-strewn grass on the stony plain of Moy Murhenna. And there, in truth, Lu came upon the end of his quest; for as he rode slowly and sadly across the plain, whereon he could not discern a living being save a vast herd of swine, he heard, as one may hear in a shell, a plaintive sighing.

“What is that sighing?” he cried. “Is it the death-sigh of thee, Kian my father?”

There was no answer save the strange sighing, that was not of the wind or any moving thing, but seemed now to come from above, now from around, now from beneath. But at the third asking, a voice answered, thin and feeble:

“It is the death-sighing of me, Kian thy father, O Lu my son.”

“And who put death upon thee, thou who liest there in the darkness of the shadow of death?”

“The three sons of Turenn slew me here in this waste place. And because that they slew me in no fair strife, and because that they finished their slaying by crushing me with great stones till there was not left of me one bone alive, I cry to thee, O Lu my son, whom men now call Lu the Ildanna, because of thy craft and wisdom, to see that a greater eric be exacted for me than has ever yet been exacted in Erin for any slain man. And in the end see that thou sparest not, for otherwise there shall be a greater bloodshed still; and ill it befits us, who are noble, that we should bring a tide of blood over Erin, for no worthier cause than the wiping out of that which lies between the clan of Kian and the clan of Turenn.”

“As thou sayest, O Kian my father, so shall it be, and even unto the end. And this I swear by the Sun and by the Moon and by the Wind.”

Nevertheless, Lu showed no grief till he saw his father’s bruised body before him, and then he bewailed bitterly that he had not been nigh when the sons of Turenn drove Kian the Noble to his fate; and bitterly he lamented that one of the noble Dedannan race should be slain by Dedannans; and bitterly he swore that an eric should be exacted such as never before had been heard of in Erin, and that in the end, even were it fulfilled, he should not spare, because of what Kian had foreseen.

At noon Lu returned from Tara, whither he had gone after he had viewed the speechless dead body of his father, with ten chosen men whom he had bound to silence.

So once more Kian the Noble was placed in his grave, but now standing, as befits a hero. And above the grave they raised a cairn, and midway in this cairn was a great slab of smooth stone, whereon Lu Ildanna graved in Ogam the name and ancestry and great fame of Kian, son of Kian, son of Kian the Thunder-Smith.

But when that night Lu entered Tara again, the whole of the king’s town was lit with torches, and resounded with joyous shouts and cries because of the great victory of the Dedannans over the Fomorians; nor was any name so often named as that of Lu Lamfada, Lu the Long-Handed.

When Lu entered the palace of the king, he was received with a mighty shout of welcome, and Nuadh of the Silver Hand himself came to greet him, with fair loving words of praise and gratitude. Right glad was the king to see Lu come to him thus, for he had feared that the Ildanna bore him a bitter grudge because of his having refused his aid to drive forth Bras and his Fomorians. Therefore it was that he paid honour to Lu Ildanna above all other men, and led him to a seat at his right hand, placing him above the whole assemblage of princes and great lords.

But Lu neither smiled nor made any sign of pleasure. His eyes wandered round the concourse of the Dedannan chivalry. Suddenly his gaze became intent and fixed, for upon three golden-studded seats of honour he beheld the three sons of Turenn.

The high king of Erin was about to speak to his chiefs on the great matter of rejoicing and counsel which had brought them all together, when Lu arose. All stared in amaze, for only some unforeseen emergency could justify a noble speaking before the high king had said what he had to say.

“O King of Erin,” said Lu slowly, and in a low voice, yet so clear and cold and vibrant that it was heard of every man in that vast concourse: “O King of Erin, order the chain of silence to be brought hither, and let its soft, delicate music be shaken from it, for I have that to say that must be heard of all men, and not in their ears only but in their hearts and in their minds.”

Therewith the Chain of Silence was brought, and was shaken slowly and delicately by the young druid whose charge it was. The sweet low sound rose into the air like fragrance, and passed through all the halls in Tara, and filled the ears of every man, and the mind of each, and the soul of each. There was not a sound in all that place, not a whisper, not a sigh.

In that great silence Lu moved forward till he stood beside the king and faced the whole assemblage.

“Chiefs and warriors of the Tuatha-De-Danann, I have that to ask ye to which I need an answer this day. Tell me this: What would ye do unto one who wittingly, and not in battle but shamefully, slew your father, and he innocent, even such a man, say, as Kian the Noble?”

There was no whisper of answer. All sat there amazed, marvelling at the strange question. But at last Nuadh the King spoke.

“What meaning lives in thy words, Ildanna? For we know that thy father Kian is not slain, for he was not in the Great Battle.”

“Nevertheless he is slain, and here in this royal place my eyes behold them who slew him.”

When Lu of the Long Hand had spoken these words, every man looked from neighbour to neighbour in amaze. But all waited for the king to speak.

“What sayest thou, Nuadh of the Silver Hand, Ardree of Erin?”

“I have this to say, that if a man wittingly, and without the just cause of war, slew my father, and he innocent, I would not be content with exacting death, but would rather lop him limb from limb daily till he died.”

“And what say ye, chiefs and nobles of the Dedannan race?”

“We say as the Ardree says,” cried one and all, save the three who sat on golden-knobbed seats near the high king, though these too bowed their heads in acquiescence.

“And what say ye, ye sons of Turenn?”

At this all turned and looked upon Brian and Ur and Urba, who sat pale and stern. Brian answered for himself and his brothers.

“We say as the high king says.”

“Nuadh of the Silver Hand, Ardree of Erin, and all ye chieftains and chiefs and nobles of the Dedannan race, I call ye to witness that this man who has spoken slew my father, and that he and his brothers are jointly guilty of that foul deed.”

For more than the furthest singing of an arrow, there was silence. Neither the king nor any man spoke, but all looked to the sons of Turenn to say Yea or Nay. But Brian and Ur and Urba sat in a frozen stillness, and moved neither their hands nor their lips, and stared only with unwavering eyes upon the white accusing face of the son of the murdered Kian.

Then Lu spoke again.

“Behold the men who slew my father. And now, O king, I say not whether there were good cause for this slaying: all men know that there was a feud between the clans of Kian and Turenn. Nor do I wish to bring evil into this house and town of thine. Because one man is dead, there is no need that others must die who have nought to do with his death. I have come in peace: I would go in peace. But this only I say: I go not hence till I have won from the sons of Turenn the vow of my eric.”

“That is right and wise,” answered the king, “and for myself I would be well content if, being guilty, I could evade death by paying any eric whatsoever.”

At this Brian rose.

“Lu, son of Kian, has spoken inadvisedly, O king. He has accused us of a crime, he knowing nothing of when or how that deed was done, and in what circumstances, and how made inevitable. Nor, again, have we ever admitted that we are guilty of this deed of murder.”

“It is enough. Kian, father of Lu Ildanna, came to his death through ye three sons of Turenn. Whatsoever eric Lu may exact, that eric ye shall have to pay. Otherwise the lives that ye hold so dear, being your own, will no longer have the shelter of this royal place; and as no man’s hand can be raised to aid thee, ye shall be at the mercy of Lu of the Long Hand, and of whomsoever he may bring against thee.”

For a brief while Brian talked low with his brothers; then he turned and addressed Nuadh the king and Lu Lamfada.

“We are for peace, not strife. We say not we are guilty, but we will pay the eric that Lu, son of Kian, may demand, save only that it be not against the life of Turenn our father.”

“That is well said,” exclaimed Nuadh of the Silver Hand.

“I accept the troth,” said Lu, “and now call upon all here to witness that the sons of Turenn have made a solemn pledge.”

There were few there who did not wonder what the eric would be, for all knew that Lu was a stern man, and would not rest till he had done his utmost to make the sons of Turenn expiate their deed.

Great was their amazement, therefore, when Lu gave forth the eric that he demanded.

“The eric I demand is this,” he said: “that ye bring me three apples, a certain skin, a spear, two horses and a chariot, seven swine, a hound, and a roasting spit. And further, that ye shout three shouts upon a hill. Yet, if ye will,” Lu added scornfully, “I shall remit a portion of this eric if ye find it too heavy for ye.”

“It is neither heavy nor great,” answered Brian, “if there be no hidden evil behind. For by the Sun and Wind I swear that I would not count too heavy an eric, three hundreds of thousands of apples, or thrice a hundred skins, or many score horses and chariots, spears and hounds, or a shouting a hundred times upon a hundred hills.”

“Nevertheless, I do not account it small,” answered Lu gravely. “But give me now security that ye shall fulfil this eric to the uttermost.”

“We give ourselves as security.”

“Not so,” exclaimed Lu scornfully. “I will not have the security of thyselves.”

“Then I call upon Bove Derg, son of the Dagda, and upon Nuadh of the Silver Hand, Ardree of Erin, and upon the score I shall name of the foremost chiefs of the Dedannan race, to be our pledge and warranty.”

And after Brian had named the score, all they, and Nuadh the king, and Bove Derg, the son of the Dagda, gave the pledge, so that thenceforth the sons of Turenn were under solemn _geas_ to fulfil the eric, or die in the effort to fulfil that eric, or otherwise bring dishonour upon all these noble and great lords, each of whom moreover would be bound to seek the lives of Brian and Ur and Urba.

“And now tell us if that is all, O Lu Ildanna, for much I misdoubt me if thou hast no evil thought for us behind thy fair-seeming words.”

Thereat all leaned forward and listened eagerly, for each man knew that Lu was not vainly called the Ildanna, for there was no one in all Erin who had so much knowledge, or whose craft was so greatly to be feared. When he had uttered the eric that he demanded, all were at first amazed. Then some had thought that he was under _geas_ never to exact a great eric, but always the smallest that he might make; but most were troubled, for behind these slight exactions they knew that he had arrowy intentions.

“Yes, ye sons of Turenn,” Lu Lamfada began slowly, “I shall tell ye now what my eric is. I do not think ye shall find it over easy.”

Brian and Ur and Urba rose, but all the host otherwise remained seated. The three sons of Turenn leaned upon their spears, and tall and goodly warriors they seemed, and worthy of their great fame as three of the seven chief champions of Erin.

“First, then, there is this. The skin I demand of ye is one that belongs to the king of Greece in the far eastern lands. It is the skin of healing. No man need die of wounds who has that skin; and cold water, too, it will make into wine. I do not think ye will come easily by that skin.

“Second, there is this. The spear I demand of ye is the spear called Aradvar, the dreadful spear of Pisarr, Prince of Persia, whose point is for ever kept cooling in a cauldron of water, so terrible is its fiery thirst, and that thirst for blood. I do not think ye will find the spear of Pisarr easy to obtain.

“Third, there is this. The chariot and two horses that I demand of ye belong to Dobar, the king of Sicily. They heed neither the rough ways of the land nor the rough ways of the sea, but travel equally and at the will of him who drives. I do not think ye will find it easy to obtain that chariot and its two horses.

“Further, there is this. Far to the south there is a great lord, Asol of the Golden Pillars. It is he who owns the seven swine I ask of ye. Ye may slay the seven and yet all will remain. They know not death, though ye may slay them and feed upon them. There is no death upon them. I do not think ye will find it easy to obtain these swine.

“Fifth, there is this. In a further land still, that is called Irrua, there is a great and terrible hound named Falinnish. So fierce is he that whatever beast comes within sight of him falls in helpless fear. I do not think ye will find that hound very easy to obtain, or bring with ye from far-off Irrua.

“Sixth, there is this. In the remote seas is an isle called Fiancarya. It is there that the sea-women dwell. In caverns beneath the waves they roast their food. It is their roasting spit I ask of ye. I do not think ye will find it easy to obtain that thing.

“Seventh, there is this. The three apples I ask of ye are of gold, and are in an ancient garden in Isberna. That ancient close is well guarded, O Sons of Turenn, so that ye may not find it easy even to see the wind-waved summits of the trees. I do not think ye will bring back these apples.[10]

“And lastly, there is this. In the remotest north of remote Lochlin there is a hill called Mekween. It is so called from a man of that name who lives there. He is a great and powerful man, and none others equal him save only his two sons. So terrible are they that no man dare venture into that wild place where they live, save in amity. It was with them that my father learned his great craft with the sword; and so great will their wrath be that ye have slain him, that even were I to forgive ye, they would not. Moreover, Mekween and his sons are under _geas_ not to allow a shout to be shouted upon that hill. I do not think ye will find it easy to pass the sons of Mekween, nor to shout three shouts upon that hill.”

With that, Lu the Ildanna bowed before the king, and sat upon his golden chair again.

All men looked with sorrow upon the sons of Turenn. Any of the seven _geasan_ of this eric that Lu put upon them was more than enough for any hero: how then would they survive till the last, or, having survived, how would they bring back with them these things, and how escape the wrath of Mekween and his sons?

Nevertheless, the sons of Turenn were now under bond, and they had no choice but to do what they could to fulfil their eric.

With sad hearts they left the great beauty and wonder of Tara, and with sadder hearts still reached their own land. Here with sorrow they bade farewell to Turenn their father and to dark-eyed Enya their sister, whom they loved so passing well, and to all their kindred and folk. Thereafter they set forth on their long and ever more and more perilous quest.

It would have been easy for the sons of Turenn to have passed over into Alba, and sought service with the king of that country; or to have gone among the Kymri in the inland highlands beyond the isle where Manannan had his home: or southward to Lyonesse or into Armorica. But honour is a better thing than ease, and it would ill have befit heroes such as Brian and Ur and Urba to have evaded their solemn troth. A bitter wrong they had done, because of the hereditary feud betwixt the clans of Turenn and Kian: but now there was one thing only to do, and that to fulfil the eric put upon them by Lu, son of Kian. Moreover, Nuadh the Ardree and Bove Derg, son of the Dagda, and a score of the noblest lords in Erin were their warranty that they would do this thing.

So, one day of the days, they set forth from Erin: and sad indeed were they when across the foam they took their last look at Dun Turenn and at the dear familiar hill of Ben Edar.

* * * * *

For that night Peterkin heard no more of the story of the Fate of the Sons of Turenn; but all the next evening, and the next again, he sat entranced by the strange moving tale of how Brian and Ur and Urba one by one fulfilled the hard and perilous conditions of their eric, and this until the sixth was done.

But here, now, this tale cannot be told in full. To tell it aright would need a volume not less than this is.

It must suffice that after innumerable hardships, after fierce cold and fiercer heat, after hunger and thirst and daily perils by land or sea, and strange and frightful encounters, and hazardous fights with monsters and wild men and kings and princes, the sons of Turenn found themselves sailing towards the remote north of Lochlin, having accomplished the six seeming impossible conditions.

That nigh-impossible task, indeed, had been made possible by the magic boat of Manannan, called the Sweeper of the Waves, which they had won from Lu by unlooked-for wile. For before they had left Tara they had played a game of chess with Lu Ildanna, well knowing that Lu was under _geas_ never to refuse to play at chess when asked by any Dedannan, or to pay the hazard that was decided upon, whatsoever it might be. There was no player in all Erin to surpass Ur, though few knew this, for he was little given to talk, and still less of his own doings.

First Urba had offered to play with Lu, and the hazard of that play was to be the life of Lu Ildanna. “I will play that hazard,” he said, “if thou wilt pay the like penalty if thou dost lose.” But when Urba refused, he could play no more, because he had declined the counter-hazard.

Then Brian had offered to play, and the hazard of that play was to be Daurya, the beautiful daughter of a great lord, whom Lu loved. “I will play that hazard,” he said, “if, in return, thou wilt pledge me Enya of the Dark Eyes, thy sister.” But when Brian refused this hazard, he too could play no more with Lu until Lu asked him.

Then Ur played, and the hazard of that play was the “Sweeper of the Waves,” Manannan’s magic boat. “I will play that hazard,” Lu said, “if in return thou wilt sail in it, and affront Manannan to his face.” To that Ur agreed, and they played, and Ur won.

This magic boat would sail swiftly and safely in any sea whether calm or tempest-wrought, and at a word would make for any coast or haven; more like a great bird it was, or some creature of the air and sea.

“White shall be thy foamy track,” cried Lu as they sailed away; “but red everywhere shall be the wake behind ye.”

And so it was. For death and the bitterness of the sword were ever in their way and in their wake. Nevertheless, they unceasingly rejoiced in their possession of the Sweeper of the Waves, and when their eric-quest took them into far eastern lands beyond the reach of great rivers, they hid their precious vessel, or bade it lie till it heard their summoning voice.

And so at the last it happened that the sons of Turenn won the three golden apples out of the guarded close in Isberna; and by craft and daring carried away from Sicily the famous chariot and two steeds which had no peer in all the world; and from Asol of the Golden Pillars, who gave them in ransom for his life, they took the seven deathless swine; and from its cauldron in the heart of a hostile city they snatched the terrible spear of Pisarr; and the far-famed skin of healing they brought away from the palace of Toosh, king of Greece, whose head they left idly rolling upon his marble floor; and in far Irrua they put captivity upon the terrible hound Falinnish; and in the wild seas of Fiancarya they dared the sea-women in their caverns under the waves, and took from them the roasting spit that Lu had demanded.

All this they did, and much else in the doing of these wonders. And now nothing remained but to shout three shouts upon the hill of Mekween; and to this end they sailed blithely and swiftly towards the far north of Lochlin.