BOOK IX

The Four Great Fifths of Erin kept their camp On cragged Drumenna yet three days and nights. But there no tents or booths were placed for them: No pleasant food or ale was served to them: No music and old lays were sung to them: They had no banqueting or mirth. For nightly, The hour the cloudy shades of night came down, Cucullin, from Slieve Fauhan, very near Those hosts of Erin, with his strong cranntowl Hurling his sling-stones ’mid their people, slew One hundred valiant fighting-men of them Ere came the light of rising in the morn.

Then Maev said: “These our hosts will not endure, And will not stay, Cucullin slaying so One hundred from us every night. And wherefore Should terms not now be carried to him? Wherefore Should he not be addressed from us?” “What terms Are these?” said Al-yill. “He shall have,” said Maev, “The milch-kine and the bond-folk, and shall stay His dread cranntowl from the Four Fifths of Erin, Leaving our hosts to sleep.” “Who shall go forth To carry him the terms?” asked Al-yill. “Who,” Maev asked him, “but Mac Roth, chief-messenger Of messengers of Erin?” “Nay,” Mac Roth said, “I have not the place-knowledge; and I know not Where I shall find him.” “Ask thou then of Fergus,” Maev answered him; “’tis likely that that knowledge Is with great Fergus.” Fergus said to her: “Not so, O Maev; I know not where he is; But there is one thing I think likely, namely, His being now ’twixt Fauhan and the sea, Letting the winds and sun be o’er his body, After his sleeplessness of night last night, While he was slaying and was striking down Your hosts, he all alone.” That thing was true In Fergus. In that night a heavy snow Had fallen, so that all the Fifths of Erin Were with that snow as one white, level floor. Then down between Glen Fauhan and the sea Cucullin came for sunlight and for wind, After his sleeplessness of night that night; And there he cast from him his seven and twenty Waxed, board-smooth laynas, which with cords and ropes Next his white skin were wont to be tied fast, So that his prudence might not go from him When his war-fury should rise up. The snow Melted for thirty feet on each side round him, With the abundance of the heat of body And war-glow of Cucullin; and the gillie Could not stay very near to him because Of the abundance of the battle-anger And war-glow of that champion, and the ardour Then in Cucullin, and the heat of body. “A warrior now comes near us, O Cucullin,” Laeg cried to him. “What warrior?” asked Cucullin. “He is a brown-haired gillie,” Laeg replied, “Wide-faced and beautiful. The bratt around him Is brown, distinctive. A short copper spear Secures that bratt; a profitable layna Is next his skin; and he has two barnbrogues Betwixt his two feet and the ground. He carries In one hand a white hazel club, in one A one-edged and tooth-hilted sword.” “O gillie,” Cucullin said, “those are the signs, marks, badges Of messengers. One of the messengers Of Erin, that is there, who has come forth To address me with a message.” In short while Mac Roth attained that place wherein Laeg watched. “Under what service dost thou serve, O gillie?” Mac Roth inquired. “I serve the warrior-youth Yonder, above,” said Laeg. Mac Roth came up Into that place wherein Cucullin was. “Under what service dost thou serve, O warrior?” Mac Roth inquired. “I serve,” Cucullin said, “Conor the son of Fahtna Fahee son Of Ross the Red-haired son of Rury More.” “Hast thou no nearer, more immediate service?” Mac Roth made question. “That,” replied Cucullin, “Suffices now, this hour.” “Couldst thou inform me,” Mac Roth went on, “in what place I might find That famed Cucullin, about whom the hosts Of Erin let from them an outcry, now Upon this hosting?” “What is to be said To him,” Cucullin answered, “may be said To me.” “I come,” Mac Roth said, “to address him From Al-yill and from Maev. I carry to him Their terms and war-conditions.” “What conditions Carryest thou?” Cucullin asked of him. “He shall be given,” Mac Roth replied to him, “The milch-kine and the bond-folk, and shall stay His dread cranntowl from the Four Fifths of Erin, Leaving the hosts to sleep. Not mild or gentle That thunder-shower feat is, which he pours Upon them each long night.” Cucullin said: “E’en were Cucullin here to hear these terms, He would not take them. For the men of Ulster, Being incited and attacked with satire, And hot, cheek-reddening insult and invective, Would slay their milch-kine to redeem their honour, If they possessed no dry kine; and, moreover, They would take up to them their bondwomen On to their beds, and would beget a folk Who would be bond-folk through their mothers.” Straight Mac Roth returned. “Didst thou not find that youth?” Maev asked of him. “I found,” Mac Roth replied, “An awe-inspiring, angry, glowing youth Between Glen Fauhan and the sea. I know not Whether he was Cucullin.” “Took he from thee The terms we sent?” “Nay, truly,” said Mac Roth; And he related to them then the reasons Why the terms were not taken. Fergus said: “’Tis he, indeed, with whom thou wast conferring.” “Let other terms be borne to him,” said Maev. “What terms?” asked Al-yill. “He shall have,” said Maev, “The dry kine and the free folk, and shall stay His dread cranntowl from the Four Fifths of Erin, Leaving our hosts to sleep. Not mild or gentle That thunder-shower feat is which he works Upon them each dark night.” “Who shall go forth To carry him the terms?” asked Al-yill. “Who,” Maev asked him, “but Mac Roth?” “Yea, I will go,” Mac Roth said; “this time I have the place-knowledge.” Mac Roth went forth then to address Cucullin. “’Tis to address thyself that I have come This time,” he said, “because this time I know Thou art thyself that greatly-famed Cucullin.” “What hast thou brought?” Cucullin asked of him. “Thou shalt be given,” Mac Roth replied to him, “The dry kine and the free folk, and shalt stay Thy dread cranntowl from the Four Fifths of Erin, Leaving the hosts to sleep. Not mild or gentle That thunder-shower feat is, which thou pourest Upon them each dark night.” Cucullin said: “I will not take the terms. The men of Ulster Will slay their dry kine to redeem their honour, For they are generous; and they will be Without dry kine or milch-kine. And, moreover, They to the querns and kneading-troughs will put Their free women, unto slave services And into bond-work. ’Tis not good with me To leave that plight in Ulster after me— Bond-maids and serf-women being so made Of daughters of the kings and chiefs of Ulster.” “Exist there, then, terms that thou wilt accept On this occasion?” “There exist such terms.” “Tell me thy terms,” Mac Roth said. “By my word,” Cucullin said, “’tis not I who will tell them.” “What then?” Mac Roth said. “If,” Cucullin answered, “There be amidst your doon one who can tell The terms I have, let him recount them to you; And if there be not, let there be no sending To address me any more with messages Of terms and war-conditions. For whoe’er He be who comes, his life shall here have ending.” Mac Roth went back. “Didst thou not find him then?” Maev asked of him. “I found him,” said Mac Roth. “Took he the terms?” said Maev. “He took them not,” Mac Roth replied. “Exist there terms,” said Maev, “Which he will take?” “He has terms,” said Mac Roth. “Related he the terms?” said Maev. “This, truly,” Mac Roth said, “was his word: not he himself Will tell the terms to you.” “What then?” said Maev. “If,” said Mac Roth, “amidst ourselves there be One who can tell his terms, let him relate them. And if there be not, let there be no sending To address him any more with messages Of terms and war-conditions. And one thing I here aver,” Mac Roth said, “though it be To carry him the sovereignty of Erin, It is not I who will go forth to him To find from him my death and final ending.” Then it was, truly, that Maev looked on Fergus. “What are these terms which that one asks of us, O Fergus?” Maev said. “I perceive no good, Even the least good, for you from his terms,” Fergus replied. “What are these terms?” said Maev. “A man,” said Fergus, “of the men of Erin Each day to meet him on a ford in combat; And, for such time as he shall be at slaying That man, to let the hosts move freely forth; But, when the man is slain, an obligation To be upon the hosts, with their great prey, To bide within their doon and strong encampment Till hour of rising next day in the morn.” “This is our conscience,” Al-yill said, “these terms Are slight and easy.” “What he asks is good,” Maev said to them. “He asks these terms,” said Fergus, “That so he may detain you here and hold you, With all your captives and great prey of kine, Until the Ultonians rise from their long Kesh, And muster all their hosts, and journey south, And grind you to the sand and earth and gravel. And it is wonderful to me,” said Fergus, “Their being so long at rising from that Kesh.” “We take the terms,” said Maev. “We deem it lighter Daily to lose from us one man than nightly To lose from us one hundred. And, moreover, There will be one amongst our battle-champions And battle-chiefs, who, meeting in a combat That slight, unbearded youth, will by his strength O’erthrow him, and so clear us of this strait.” “Who,” Al-yill said, “shall go to bear these terms, And to relate them to Cucullin?” “Who,” Maev asked of him, “but Fergus?” “Nay,” said Fergus, “Not so. I will not go till there is given A contract, with securities and sureties And warranties enough to bind you fast To keep the terms, and to bind him fast, too, To keep the terms.” “We accept that,” said Maev. And with strong pledges Fergus bound them down. His steeds were caught for Fergus, and his chariot Made ready; whereupon for Edarcool, A tender youth of Maev’s and Al-yill’s folk, A son of Feda and of Leth´-rĭny, His own two steeds were caught. “Whither,” said Fergus, “Wilt thou fare forth?” “I will fare forth with thee,” Said Edarcool, “to look upon the shape And figure of Cucullin.” Fergus said: “There is no wish with me that thou shouldst go, Albeit I hate thee not; but I am loth That thou and he should meet. Thou art a lad, Brisk, lively, gay, insolent, arrogant, Pert, overweening; and that other lad Is angerful, hot, ardent. And I think Some cause of anger will arise between you Before ye part.” “Canst thou, then, not protect me?” Asked Edarcool. “I can, indeed,” said Fergus, “Provided only that thou showest him No scorning and no disesteem.” They rode In their war-chariots then upon their way To reach that place wherein Cucullin was. Between Glen Fauhan and the sea Cucullin With his own charioteer, even with Laeg, Was playing at boo-an-bac. And not a thing Could pass there unperceived by Laeg, so true His watching was; and still each second game He won from his young lord, Cucullin. “Cucuc,” Said Laeg, “here comes a chariot-rider towards us.” “Describe him, then, good Laeg,” Cucullin said; And Laeg described him thus: “Larger,” said he, “Than is some heathy knoll, rising alone From out a grassy level, seems to me His noble chariot. Larger than the tree, Reverenced and old, that stands upon the green Of some king’s doon, appears to me the hair That curls and waves in golden bright abundance About that warrior’s head. A crimson fooan, Fringed and embroidered, folds him round: a spike Of graven gold secures it. In his hand He holds a wide, red-flaming spear. A shield, Carven, and compassed by a ridge of gold, He has; and a long sword-sheath, which for size Is like the rudder of some kingly vessel, Reposes on the huge and seated thighs Of that great, haughty warrior, planted there ’Midst of his chariot.” Then Cucullin cried: “Oh, welcome, ever welcome is the coming Of that belovéd guest! I know that guest. It is my guardian and my fosterer, My gentle, noble Fergus, who comes there. But, my good Laeg, as for the long, great sword, Great like the rudder of some kingly vessel, I have been told that ’tis a sword of wood, Which now fills up that sword-sheath of our Fergus.” “I see,” said Laeg, “a second chariot-rider Approaching us. To him it seems to be Sufficiency of joy and entertainment Merely to watch the prancing of his steeds, And the swift course they make across the land.” “That rider,” said Cucullin, “is some youth Amongst the men of Erin who comes hither To spy upon my shape, and scrutinize Each form and feature. For—thou knowest it well— I am much spoken of and talked about Amongst those lads beyond there, in their doon.” Fergus arrived, and leapt from out his chariot. “Speak,” said he, “art thou true and trusty towards me?” “Trusty and true I am,” Cucullin said, “O dear and welcome, ever-welcome guest! If a bird-flock shall come unto this plain, A wild-goose thou shalt have, with half another; If fish shall come into these river-invers, A salmon thou shalt have, with half another; And thou shalt have a drink from the sand-pools, And have thy fistful of green river-cress, Thy fistful of sweet sea-weed and sea-herbs; And if necessity be laid on thee To fight a combat, I myself will go To meet thy foeman at the danger-ford; And Laeg shall stay to watch and guard thee here, While thou dost take thy deep repose and sleep.” “Well do I know, belovéd fosterling,” Said Fergus, “how it stands with thee, and how These means are all the best thou canst command For entertainment of a welcome guest Now on this Táin. But I have come this time To bring a message from the men of Erin. They offer single combat. I have come To bind thee thereunto. Accept it, thou.” “I bind myself to that, my master Fergus,” Cucullin answered. And no longer time Their talk continued, lest the men of Erin Should say that Fergus had deceived, betrayed, And left them, for his fosterling and pupil. For Fergus then his chariot was prepared, And he rode back; but Edarcool remained Nigh to that much-famed lad, who there alone Defended Ulster; and he stared upon Each form and feature of that other lad, For a long while and a great space of time. Cucullin said: “What little animal Art thou observing with great care, O gillie?” “Thyself,” said Edarcool. Cucullin said: “The eye could swiftly make a circuit o’er it.” “That is what I observe,” said Edarcool; “Thou art not large. I know not anything For which thou needst be feared. I see in thee No overwhelming of a host, or cause For hate and horror and great dread. A shapely, Fair youth, thou art, I own it. Thou hast feats Sightly and various; but for counting thee Where fighters, warriors, and great battle-champions Might be—it is most true we should not count thee.” “I will not slay thee,” said Cucullin, “knowing The safeguard under which thou camest hither, Namely, the safeguard of my master, Fergus. I swear by all the gods of my own folk, Howbeit, that if ’twere not for that safeguard, It would now be thy cloven, scattered quarters Which would return from me to yon great camp Behind thy chariot-wheels.” “Provoke me not,” Said Edarcool, “and—for this wondrous contract, Which has been bound by Fergus on the hosts And on thyself, namely, a one-man combat— It will be I who, of the men of Erin, Will be the first to come to thee to-morrow.” Edarcool straight turned back. He took to talking Then to his charioteer. “Gillie,” said he, “An obligation is upon me truly To meet Cucullin at the ford to-morrow.” “Truly thou didst so vow,” the gillie said. “Howbeit, I know not that the thing so vowed Will be accomplished.” “Which thing were the better,” Said Edarcool, “to do the deed to-morrow, Or now, to-night, to do it?” “’Tis our conscience, Better to miss a victory to-morrow,” The gillie said, “than to win death to-night.” “Nay, turn the chariot round again, O gillie,” The lad said. “By the gods of my own folk, I swear that never till the Breast of Doom Will I again return unto the camp, Until I take the head from yonder lad, And show Cucullin’s head.” The charioteer Then turned the chariot once again, and turned Its left side towards the ford. Laeg saw that thing. “Cucuc,” said Leag, “there is the chariot-rider Who was here last.” “What of that, O my gillie?” Cucullin said. “His left board,” said the gillie, “Is now turned towards us, as he nears the ford.” “O gillie, that is Edarcool, who seeks A combat from me now,” Cucullin said; “And ’tis not well with me to slay him, knowing The safeguard under which he travelled hither, Namely, the safeguard of my master, Fergus; But there is on me, verily, no bond Or obligation to reject fair combat. Carry my weapons to the ford. Unworthy I should esteem myself, were he to be Down at yon ford before me.” And Cucullin Went to the stream, and straightway bared his sword Above his curved bright shoulder; and was ready, So, on the ford for the other lad to come. Then Edarcool arrived. “What dost thou ask, O gillie?” said Cucullin. He replied: “Combat with thee is what I ask and wish for; And thou art bound to grant it manfully.” Cucullin made a sod-stroke at the sod Which was beneath the feet of the other lad, Slicing the sod; and the lad fell supine, The sod being on his upturned breast. “Go now,” Cucullin said, “for I have given thee warning.” “I will not go from thee,” said Edarcool, “Till I have reached thee.” Whereupon, Cucullin Made with his sword an edge-blow, shaving swiftly The hair of that other lad from nape to brow, From ear to ear,—as though with a light razor It was he shaved,—drawing no drop of blood. “Go now,” he said, “Thou hast a two-fold warning. And I have made of thee a cause of laughter.” “I will not go from thee,” said Edarcool, “Till I have reached thee.” At which words Cucullin Struck at the armpits of the other lad, With his sword lightly; and the raiment fell From Edarcool; and his skin was not reddened. “Go now,” Cucullin said, “for I have given A proof of power.” The other lad replied: “I will not go, till I have taken thy head And trophies; or till thou hast taken my head And trophies.” “’Tis this last,” Cucullin said, “To wit, that I shall take thy head and trophies, Which shall be brought to pass.” Whereat Cucullin Made with his sword a crown-stroke from the crown Of Edarcool e’en to his navel; and made, Swift upon that, a cross-stroke through his navel, So that the three disjointed parts of him Fell to the earth in the one point of time. That was the downfall, then of Edarcool, A son of Feda and of Leth´-rĭny, A tender youth of Maev’s and Al-yill’s folk.

Now of that combat naught was known to Fergus. And that was natural for him; since Fergus Never for aught looked rearwards o’er his back, At sitting, or at rising, or on travels, Or at departing, or in fights and strivings And battles—that thus no one e’er could say, That he in fear gazed rearwards o’er his back. The charioteer of Edarcool ere long Came up with him. “Where is thy lord, thou gillie?” Cried Fergus. “He has fallen,” said the servant, “Slain by Cucullin in the ford.” Full wrath, Swift, fire-fleet, sudden, leaped in Fergus then. “It was not fitting, truly,” he cried out, “In that unearthly sprite so to insult And wound me with regard to one who came Beneath my safeguard and protection. Turn The chariot for us, gillie,” Fergus said. “I will turn back now to address Cucullin.” The gillie turned the chariot; and they fared Back toward the ford, and saw Cucullin there. “What caused thee, thou uncouth, unearthly sprite,” Fergus cried out to him, “so to insult And wound me with regard to one who came Beneath my safeguard and protection?” Then, Cucullin fell down kneeling before Fergus; And Fergus, in his anger and hot wrath, Rode three times in his chariot past him. Kneeling And bowed, Cucullin cried: “My master, Fergus, By the good fosterage which thou didst give me, Say which would seem to thee the better, namely, I to take his life and his spoils, or he To take my life and my spoils? Furthermore, Ask his own gillie which one of us two Was sinful in what happened.” Fergus said, Looking upon the lad, his fosterling: “That which has happened seems the best to me.” Then Fergus tied a withy round the feet Of Edarcool, and round his cloven neck; And dragged him o’er the ground behind the steeds And chariot-wheels; and where the ground was rough, The cloven fragments parted round the juts And points of rock; and where the ground was smooth, They met again. And Fergus trailed them thus Across the sloping camp, up to the tent Of Al-yill and of Maev, and called aloud: “Here is your tender youth for you, and here The message that ye sent him out to bring!” And Maev came forth, and stood without the door Of her own tent; and there she lifted up Her voice of lamentation; and she said: “It seemed to us that this young hound was full Of life and ardour when he left the camp; And now, it seems to us, he did not leave it Beneath a true man’s safeguard when he left it Guarded by Fergus.” From great Fergus then Broke forth his chuckle of laughter. “How,” said he, “Should this mere whelp, this woman’s lap-dog, dare To approach that slaughter-hound, whom now the Four Great Fifths of Erin will not dare to pass, Or move beyond, to reach their native homes? Yea, I myself might deem it fortunate To escape thus safe and whole from out his hands.” For Edarcool his grave-mound then was made: His stone was set: his name was writ in ogam: His funeral-cry was wailed above him there. That night Cucullin stayed his famed cranntowl; And o’er the weary hosts came welcome sleep.