by Alan Fisher
To force an audience with the high king, Fionn planned to provoke the guards into an altercation.
“Be careful what you wish for, you don’t want to be embarrassed by a boy now do you?”
The guard took the bait. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his right hand out to the left, swinging downward to strike. With his arm raised, Fionn immediately struck underneath the guard’s armpit with the butt of his spear. He flinched backwards gripping his chest with his left hand. Fionn then lunged forward and shoved the butt of his spear into the guard’s groin dropping him to the ground. At which point three more Fianna warriors unsheathed their swords and surrounded Fionn.
“My name is Fionn Mac Cumhail. If you take me to the high king, we can avoid any trouble.”
He’d barely finished speaking when the first man charged. Fionn countered with another wincing strike to the groin, dropping the guard to his knees. He then placed his foot on the man's chest and shoved, pushing him backwards into the mud. Upon seeing this, the remaining two men attacked at once, from front and behind. Fionn twisted his body, perfectly timing his movement so he could parry both strikes at the same time using the tip and butt of his spear. As they continued to circle a loud roar came from the gateway.
“Put down your weapons!” It was Goll Mac Morna, the leader of the Fianna. He cut a menacing figure as he moved his head focusing through one eye. A scar ran from his forehead to his cheek, clearly the blow that impaired his vision. He was a slightly older man but his size and power was still evident.
The men stood silent as Goll marched from the gate towards Fionn.
“Mac Cumhail?” He paused, staring the lad up and down. “Do you know who I am?”
Fionn stood silent, white knuckled, clenching his spear.
“I’m the man who killed Cumhail. What do you have to say about that?” Goll asked.
“Yes, I am Fionn, son of Cumhail, yet I've nothing to share with you, more pressing matters have drawn me to Tara and it's important that High King Cormac know I'm here. Perhaps then, we can listen to what he has to say about that.”
Succeeding as a Fianna warrior was a great honor, not only to the individual but their family and their clan. Many tribes would send their strongest, bravest, and smartest young men and women to be considered for selection. However, Celtic tribes would often conflict with one another, and these disputes would sometimes carry into the Fianna ranks. A good example of this was the Mac Morna clan from Connacht, in the west of Ireland, who had a long-standing feud with their Leinster rivals, to the east, the Cumhails. The reason for which had long been forgotten, now animosity simply existed, engrained in tribe members and continually fueled with acts of aggression or ridicule against one another.
When Fionn was a boy his father had lead the Fianna only to be defeated in battle during one such dispute with the Mac Mornas. In fact, Goll suspected a day like this could come, so after the battle he ordered his men to find and kill Cumhail's only son. However, Fionn had already been taken away in secret to live with relatives hidden far from the capital. The death of Cumhail also meant the high king needed to choose a successor to lead the Fianna. Cormac greatly appreciated the loyalty Cumhail had showed him and disapproved of his killing. Traditionally an heir or another family member could volunteer to replace a fallen leader, but no such request came, and Goll was now widely considered the fiercest warrior among all the Fianna ranks. Cormac had no alternative but to make him the official leader.
Goll leaned down and spoke directly into Fionn's face. “We can hear what he has to say, but just the same, I doubt you're long for this world.” He was noticeably taller, after all Fionn was still only a teenage lad.
The men who had fallen had since recovered and surrounded Fionn. With two in front and two behind, they marched towards Cormac's keep. Goll lagged to the rear keeping a watchful eye. They entered the great hall were Goll announced their arrival and requested an audience with the high king.
Cormac was sitting beside other clan leaders such as Tadg Mac Cein discussing preparations for the defense of the city.
“Come forward, Goll, have you selected which warriors will stand on duty tonight?”
“Yes, my king, one hundred of our strongest men have volunteered to stand by my side and we will protect the city or die trying.”
“Tadg has offered an additional 100 men to stand guard. They will join your warriors also, and I’ve decided that whomever can slay the demon will be granted anything they desire in return.” Cormac raised his hand and slammed his fist down onto the arm rest of his chair as the room erupted with a cheer.
Fionn took this opportunity to step forward, “I will present you with the head of Aillen Mac Midhna, my lord.”
Cormac barely moved his eyes to acknowledge the lad standing before him. “Who is this boy speaking to me, Goll?”
“He claims to be the Son of Cumhail, my High King.”
Cormac stood and looked down at the lad. “Perhaps I can see a resemblance, but how do I know you really are his son, what proof have you brought?”
Goll interrupted. “Nothing I’ve seen other than a similar penchant for using a spear.”
Fionn took one more step closer to Cormac “I am Fionn, son of Cumhail, former leader of the Fianna, friend to the high king and loyal soldier of Ireland. My word is my proof and you will not need 200 men tonight, I have come to save Tara and request your permission to stand watch over the city.”
Cormac turned to Tadg, catching his grin.
“Young Fionn will save us tonight, Tadg. Your men can stand down.”
The room burst into laughter as Cormac continued.
“I’m grateful to you for lightening the mood on such a dark day. However, we’ve no time for games, if what Goll says is true and you can wield a spear then there may be use for you. So yes, I grant you permission to stand with the men tonight.”
The high king turned to his quarter master. “See that the boy has a shield and sword, if he’s alive come sunrise we can speak again and judge his proof. Now, return to your preparations, it will be dark soon.”
Night had fallen. Goll strategically positioned half his men on the city walls and the rest were sent to patrol the Red Hill. His instructions were clear, their only chance was to act swiftly and ruthlessly, taking his head before Aillen could play his music. Fionn’s request to join the men patrolling the Red Hill was shot down by Goll. He now stood on the castle wall, staring in that direction. He had a short sword sheathed around his waist and carried his spear in one hand with a wooden shield in the other.
A calm had taken hold over the city as a cold Samhain breeze blew, bringing with it dark clouds that blocked out the moon. All the men waited vigilantly for the inevitable return of Aillen Mac Midhna. The darkness limited visibility and the slightest noise would draw everyone’s attention. Then it came, out of a shadowy cave high up on the hill a small black demon emerged, the men on the walls could see it’s fiery eyes and sounded the alarm bell warning all in the city.
“Charge the Hill! Charge the Hill!” Goll shouted from his position by the city gates. All guards patrolling nearby turned in the direction of these blazing eyes and ran as fast as they could, weapons drawn. A group of five men found themselves closest to the demon, barely one hundred feet away. Two of the guards flung their spears with all their might as soon as they were within range. One fizzled straight past Mac Midhna’s head which alerted him to the approaching danger. He quickly turned his Timpan in their direction and brought down the bow with such force that one powerful note shot out a sound wave that swept the men off their feet, throwing them backwards down the slope.
By now Fionn had made his way down from the city wall and stood at the base of the hill. He placed his thumb in his mouth and watched as Goll lead hundreds of men charging straight at the demon. Aillen’s music was starting to creep its way down the hillside towards the city. Fionn could see groups of Goll’s men starting to drop to the ground, unconscious in the dirt. It was only a m
atter of time before Tara was defenseless.
Fionn turned and ran back towards the city wall. He remembered several men had made a parting toast before the battle in anticipation of death. A half bottle of whiskey now lay by the entrance. He put what was left into his satchel and charged back up the hill. As he ran Fionn skipped over the many bodies now lying cold on the ground. In the distance, he could see Goll and several other men fighting the effects of the music. By the time he reached them Goll was the last man conscious having dropped to one knee. He looked at Fionn, who was starting to feel the effects of the music also. Fionn took his spear and stabbed himself in the side just as Goll fell unconscious. Before succumbing to the enchanting melody also, he took the whiskey out from his satchel and began to pour it into his open wound. Those hidden away in Tara could hear him cry out in agony. However, it had worked and Fionn had bought himself a few more moments, still seething in pain he ran as quick as he could, loading up his spear. Aillen saw Fionn’s charge and tried to target his music directly at him, but it was too late. Fionn was now in range and flung his spear straight through Aillen’s hand, joining it to the neck of the Timpan. The music stopped.
Fionn fell to his knees gripping the wound in his side; it was bleeding heavily. The music was gone but Tara was still in danger. Mac Midhna ripped the spear from his hand and marched towards Fionn as flames burst from his eyes. He thrust the flames directly at Fionn who was still kneeling on the ground. Just in time, Fionn managed to pick up his shield as the fire burst against him, deflecting in all directions. The flames burned the wooden shield and Fionn had no choice but to start crawling his way forward. He pressed his head down behind the charring wood as flames crackled and surged all around him. If he dared to stand his legs would surely be consumed by the fire. Nevertheless, Fionn continued to creep forward, inching his way towards the demon. As he neared striking distance Fionn took one hand away from his shield and clasped the handle of his sword.
It was then that Ena emerged from the same shadowy cave with bodhran and tipper in hand. He began to play. The drum beat was different to Aillen’s Timpan melody, but it started to have the same debilitating effect on Fionn, whose eyes began to slowly close. He searched from behind his burning shield to find the source of the beat. Ena was standing there looking directly at him. Catching Fionn’s gaze, he struck the tipper down against the bodhran as hard and as quickly as he could. Fionn was helpless, he dropped the shield and collapsed to the ground. In his final conscious moments, he looked over at Ena again but he was already gone. Aillen then stood over Fionn, obstructing his view. Before he finally faded into a deep sleep Aillen looked down. Fionn noticed his eyes were blue, like the base of a hot fire which grew redder and sparked, before blasting flames down on Fionn’s helpless body.
Fionn suddenly sat up on his bed, panting heavily. Bran and Sceolan woke also as he jumped to his feet, gripped his spear, and flung it through the oak door leading into his room. He then picked up a stool and placed it down beside the stone window. He sat leaning forward with his elbows resting on his thighs as the dogs sat by his feet. Slowly raising his hand, he placed his thumb in his mouth.
The Forlorn Leprechaun
E na went back to the Red Hill. He meandered along whistling to himself, eventually making his way to the shadowy cave where Aillen emerged in Fionn’s dream. A large oak tree once stood by the entrance, but all that remained now was a shabby stump. He sat down beside the crumbling oak resting his elbows on his knees facing the entrance of the cave. The earth had been scorched by Aillen’s flames and even after all these years many charcoal pebbles still lay on the ground. Ena picked up a handful and every so often he’d throw one through the cave entrance hitting a particular part of the cave wall.
The pebble wouldn’t bounce back, instead it vanished, disappearing into the wall. Occasionally Ena could hear some mumblings from someone on the other side as the pebbles passed through.
“What the…?”
“Ouch.”
“Hey quit it.”
Ena couldn’t help but giggle as he chatted to himself between throws.
“You’ll never guess who I met up with…Taiko, she's still as funny as ever. We were laughing about the time we got her tap shoes made and only one of them made a tapping sound.”
As he finished Ena chuckled and flung another pebble.
“Stop it!” a voice echoed back through the cave wall.
“She’s funny. I was surprised how much it cheered me up, just chatting about old times. I didn't stay long, had to get back you know. She's watching over Tomas now which is good. That’s a whole other story, but we did have a little moment when I was leaving. I might go back, after all, how many years has it been.
“Anyway, the whole O’ Uaigneach situation is a mess. Tomas will be fine. But I did have to take Eamonn and Aine’s memories with an illusion spell. I feel bad, an emptiness came over his mother straight away. That's the main reason I went to see Taiko, just to make sure that Tomas will be okay. She’ll live with him and Ai but there’s nothing I can do for his parents. It’s sad but for the best. Especially, given the mood you know who is in now.
“I went back in again tonight. Look, to be honest, with everything that’s gone on over the last while I know I shouldn’t have, but the thought of him enjoying that moment is too much. I can’t take it. Anyway...”
With that he stood and patted himself down before saying a few last words.
“I miss you so much.” Ena kissed his hand and placed it down against the stump, he then walked down into the cave where he passed through the wall.
An Eavesdrop
T aiko made herself at home in the attic of Ai’s workshop. Concealed in the rafters she could observe the couple, get to know them a little better before making her presence known. On her first night, however, the pair stumbled home in the early hours after drinking heavily with Ai's family. Eiji and Miyamoto were with them also, carrying Tomas and a few bottles of sake. Ai rushed on ahead to prepare futons. As they walked their heads popped out from under Tomas's armpits. He had one arm over each of their shoulders and it was taking all their might to drag him along. He sang merrily as they struggled, repeating the same line over and over.
The harp that once through Tara's halls
The soul of music shed…
Eiji and Miyamoto joined in as best they could with little success or harmony. After an evening of alcohol, Tomas was blurting out the few words in Japanese he had also which only served to confuse the men more.
Taiko watched through a gap in the roof as they approached. Just short of the house Eiji's legs gave way, the strain on his back was too much and all three fell to the ground. They lay there, bundled on top of each other bursting with laughter.
“I'm fine, I'm fine...” he insisted, pushing Eiji and Miyamoto away, but as he put weight on his foot he rolled backwards clasping his leg
“My ankle, I've hurt my ankle. Ashi...Kage, Ashikubi...Kage.”
Eiji and Miyamoto looked at each other shaking their heads. Taiko's smirk turned into a laugh and she quickly covered her mouth, masking the noise.
The two men once again braced themselves and lifted Tomas into the house. They lay him down on a futon Ai had prepared. His night of drinking was done. Eiji and Miyamoto on the other hand had only warmed up and went into a different room for a few more cups.
Ai noticed Tomas was hurt and checked on him as the two men stumbled on. “Is your leg sore?”
Tomas lay on the floor, sniffling.
“My leg is sore but it’ll be alright, it's not that, they don't remember me, Ai.”
“Who doesn't?” she asked.
“My family, my mother didn't recognize me. When I saw her, she had no idea and who I was.”
“Maybe that was part of Ena's plan to keep them safe,” Ai suggested.
“That's sad you know, it's like, I'm alone now.” Tomas kept sniffling.
“Ena is likely doing something to keep your family safe. But s
till, don't feel like that, you always have us. I’m sure you'll feel better tomorrow.”
Clattering noises came from the other room where Eiji and Miyamoto were drinking.
“I better check on these two, try to relax your mind and go to sleep. Goodnight.” Ai went to check what was happening, leaving Tomas alone.
Taiko was hiding in the shadows and overheard Tomas and Ai's conversation. She waited, watching from the darkness, patiently choosing the moment when he was about to drift into a deep sleep. It was then she went into the room and kneeled to whisper into Tomas’s ear.
“Hello, my name is Taiko. I’m here to help you. Why are you sad?”
Drowsy, Tomas mumbled in reply.
“My family, don’t remember me.”
She gently stroked his head and continued, “Oh really, that is sad. Why is that?”
“I don't know, I was with Ai’s family earlier, her grandfather is scary. He didn’t believe us, he didn't believe how I got here. I had no choice, I had to think of a way to convince him I wasn’t a bad person, so I took off the ring. Next thing I saw my mother...”
Taiko’s eyes widened and she sat upright, “Oh really, you went back to Ireland?”
“Only for a few seconds, I saw my mother. That was nice but she had no idea who I was. Ena told me not to go so I quickly put the ring back on and came back. It worked, Hiroshi likes me, he loves Irish Whiskey too. But, I don't know why my mother didn't recognize me.”
“You spoke to someone and you took some whiskey?”
“Yeah, we drank it all.”
“I see, I see, shush now. Go to sleep. I'll see what I can do.” Taiko stood and tiptoed out of the room. Once she cleared the doorway she backed against the wall and raised her hand up over her mouth.
I need to warn Ena, she thought.
The Seed
“T
he whiskey is gone, so I didn’t just imagine it,” Aine said, pointing to the shelf.
