by Alan Fisher
“I’m on to you now, Finnegas, you’ll not catch me drinking one of your potions again.” Ena laughed as he walked up to speak with him. “You’ll not believe who I met recently. Taiko, do you remember her?”
Finnegas cracked a slight smile through his sullen brow.
Many moons ago, a very young Taiko visited Foye and fell in love with Irish music and dance. Finnegas and Ena’s father where drinking heavy one day when Taiko stopped by and asked for some tap shoes. Finnegas joked that tap shoes were the job of any old cobbler and certainly not a musical instrument. Making tappers, as he called them, wasn’t much of a skill. So Ena’s father duly laid down a challenge for him to make Taiko’s tap shoes. To this day nobody understands how he did it but one shoe wouldn’t tap. Taiko brought a tap shoe back to Japan as opposed to tap shoes. It took several years before anyone even knew because she was too polite to say anything.
“She said to say hello, and wondered if you’d make her another shoe?”
They both laughed aloud as Ena patted him on the shoulder before walking on home through the market.
Una
E na arrived home to a bundle of parcels stacked against his door. Each one had a musical device inside and a letter attached requesting help or an adjustment of some kind. He liked to keep busy and this was the perfect distraction. He picked up a few parcels and tucked them under his arm before leaning down to whisper into the keyhole.
“Una.”
As he spoke the deadbolt unlocked and the door opened. The cosy exterior was deceptively small. After Ena walked through a narrow hallway he emerged into a grand, open-plan workshop with several levels. The walls were decked with overflowing shelves full of texts and magical playbooks. Areas seemed to be sectioned off by instrument, a fiddle corner, a whistle section and a bodhran area which had a small bed and table. Larger instruments then floated around the room. Harps, Uilleann pipes, Timpans and a variety of others moved freely in the air, as if hooked on an invisible wheel spinning in harmony with one another, waiting to be beckoned for repair. Ena made his way over to the bodhran section. He placed the packages on the table and lay on the bed. On the wall, next to him hung an oil painting in a brown leather frame. In the picture Ena was standing with his bodhran in hand, cutting a handsome figure with his usual cheeky grin. He stood beside a pretty fiddle player with long blonde hair. She had the fiddle tucked into her shoulder facing away from Ena but her eyes rolled back in his direction. She too carried a smile and her enchanting beauty made it hard to look away from the painting once it had caught any viewer’s eye.
One common misconception is that female leprechauns don't exist. This would often puzzle the Giants of Ireland as they wondered how on earth these little sprites ever procreated. There is a simple explanation for this misunderstanding though. It's down to the physiological difference between the sexes. For some reason, male leprechauns are born with a mischief gene, which kindles an unquenchable desire for high jinks. Females on the other hand have no such desire. As a result, this penchant for devilry is what draws male leprechauns into the open where they risk chance meetings with Giants. Of course, there is nothing stopping female leprechauns from leaving their Fairy Mounds, but they normally prefer to remain hidden from the dangers of the outside world.
Una was Ena's twin sister. They shared some similar features but she had long blonde hair that draped down to her lower back, and her blue eyes seemed to get brighter when she smiled. She too shared his passion for music. However, her preferred instrument was the fiddle. Growing up, the Ard Ri market was their playground and their positive energy was always a welcome addition. Music was in their bones and it was a wonder to see such tiny young ones harmonizing so beautifully. When they played, the chaos of the market would ease as everyone took a moment to listen before getting back to their daily dealings. It wasn’t all music, it was clear from a young age that Ena seemed to revel more than most in a little mischief. Una had no interest in such things, but she loved spending time with her older brother and was happy to go along with his games. As children, much of their devilry was directed at Finnegas. Despite firecrackers in his boots, farting bugs in his house and double vision tablets in his whiskey he took it all in his stride and seemed to have the patience of an angel. Or so everyone thought; he had his own plan for revenge in the form of a hiccup infused present on their 1800th birthday, the day they became adults.
It was shortly after this birthday when their parents disappeared, leaving Ena and Una all alone. Many stories are told about their disappearance but the truth is no one really knows what happened. Their mother and father left Foye one day to deliver a variety of instruments around Ireland and never returned. It's a mystery that devastated the young leprechauns and it seemed to have a profound effect on Finnegas also, this unmarried loner who lost his closest friends.
Without the watchful eye of his parents it was around this time that Ena’s curiosity lead him outside of Foye. At first, he would go off by himself, sneaking into nearby homes and listening to these Giant’s tell stories to one another. Of course, any good story in Ireland normally has someone from the Fianna at its core. This only fueled his curiosity taking him further away from the mountain to learn more about these famous warriors. Each time he would come back home he’d sit at the end of Una’s bed telling her all about everything he’d heard or seen.
“You should come, Una. Tara is such a beautiful city, it’s like the market but everything is much bigger. It’s amazing!”
Una had never left Foye and had no real interest to do so; hearing Ena’s stories each night was enough excitement for her.
“I’m fine here, Ena, besides we’ve so many orders and requests, somebody has to keep things moving along.”
Ena rolled his eyes and stood up from Una’s bed turning away for a moment. “You know they’ll wait, where else are they going to go? Here in Foye you have the number one and number two makers in all the land.” He pointed to himself first before gesturing towards Una with a smile.
“I think you have that backwards,” she replied.
“Perhaps, but did you know that they have really big instruments in Tara too? I’ve seen them. They are a little bit like ours only much larger, more shabby and basic. Tell you what, promise me you’ll come with me once, just to visit and have a look at these massive Fianna and I’ll do all the repairs we have over the next week, how about it?”
Una looked at him for a moment before nodding slightly with a smile and rolling over in her bed. “We’ll see at the end of the week, good night.”
Ena laughed and bounced on the spot. “Ah you won’t regret it, I’ll get stuck into that tomorrow and when it’s done we’ll go.”
What to do?
T aiko was sitting on a small futon hidden in Ai's workshop attic. She bit her lip and brushed hair from her eyes before standing to her feet. Pacing back and forth she stayed quiet, until her thoughts overflowed and she gestured with her hands as she paced.
“I must warn Ena, but the only way to do that is to get Tomas to take off the ring and go back with him. But, what if that just makes things worse? On the other hand, what if Fionn Mac Cumhail finds out that Tomas went back and it was he who helped Ena? Ah yie yie, I have to do something.”
She tutted before exhaling loudly. Taiko had been wrestling with her thoughts all night and now the sun had risen, it was time to act. She pulled up a loose floorboard, jumped downstairs, and made her way into Tomas and Ai's bedroom. Tomas was snoring, still feeling the effects of the alcohol, yet Ai seemed to stir to the sound of light footsteps and slowly opened her eyes. Taiko stood overhead staring down at her.
“Hello.”
“Aaahh!” Ai shrieked, shuffling off the futon to her feet, nudging Tomas as she stood.
“Get up, get up! Who the hell are you?”
“Don't be afraid, my name is Taiko, I'm a friend of Ena.”
Tomas rubbed his eyes. “Who is the tiny girl in the kimono? Are you seeing the same thing as me,
Ai?” he said pointing at Taiko.
“Yes, I am real, I'm a Zashiki Warashi and an old friend of Ena. I need to speak with you about what happened yesterday.”
“A Zashiki...?” he replied turning to Ai, sleep still in his eyes.
“Really? Do you live here? How do you know Ena?” Ai asked.
“I've been here for a few days. When Tomas first arrived, Ena came to me also and asked that I live with you as a favor to him.”
“What? You can't live here.” Tomas’s brow tightened before Ai reassured him this would be a good thing. “That's fantastic news, Tomas, it's a great honor to have a Zashiki Warashi living with us. We're very lucky.”
“I wish that was the reason I've presented myself to you, but unfortunately I've something important to discuss. I spoke with you a little last night, Tomas. Don't you remember?”
Tomas sucked in a little air as he replied. “Eh, not really, I don't remember too much about last night to be honest.”
“You explained that to make Ai's grandfather believe your story, you removed the ring and briefly returned to Ireland. You also spoke to your mother and took some whiskey back with you. This is not good. You see after you left Ena cast an illusion spell on your parents burying the memory of you deep in their subconscious. This was the only way to keep Fionn from learning what happened. However, by interacting with your mother and taking the whiskey, you may have left footprints for her to follow, like a seed or pathway for her to regain her memory. You know Fionn better than I, so that's a risk I wanted you to know about, because I'm not sure what to do. I'd like to warn Ena but there's only one way to do so and there is a risk that course of action could make things even worse.”
Upon hearing Taiko speak Tomas’s brow loosened. “Fionn Mac Cumhail is incredibly resourceful. If there is any clue at all he’ll connect everything together and find out what happened. Ah, I’ve been so stupid, I shouldn’t have taken off the ring. What’ll we do? What can we do to warn Ena?”
Taiko took a few steps towards Tomas and stood below him. She barely came to his knees as she reached up and pointed to the ring. “You need to take it off again, but this time I’ll go with you. The ring is very powerful, whomever or wherever you think of as it separates from your finger is where you will travel to.”
Taiko turned to Ai. “I think it’s best if you stay here, I will direct Tomas so we can travel back to a safe place. Hopefully we can find Ena and he can recast the spell on Tomas’s mother. Then we can come home and all will be well.”
Ai stood still holding her hands over her mouth. She nodded and Taiko faced Tomas once more.
“Are you familiar with the Cooley Mountains, north of Tara, past the great forest?”
“Yes, I’ve been there many times as a boy.”
“Great, I want you to imagine Foye Mountain, somewhere you have been, keep thinking of it as you take off the ring.” Taiko grabbed a hold of Tomas’s leg and he closed his eyes. He remembered back to his childhood, hiking the mountain with his father, then raised his hand and took off the ring.
Dinner for One
C ormac Mac Art once again sat by himself eating dinner. The great hall echoed to the sound of him chomping on a leg of pork, slurping ale from his cup then banging it down on the table. He burped, wiped his mouth with his wrist, then called to his squire.
“Where on this god forsaken earth is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne? Get after him and find out what's going on!”
“Yes, my High King.” The young lad bowed then quickly turned and rushed out of the hall. As he opened the door Diarmuid was standing there, just about to enter.
The boy sighed, then whispered to Diarmuid as he walked passed. “He was asking for you just now and sent me off to find out what was going on.”
Diarmuid bent down on one knee as he approached the High King. “I apologize for the delay, my lord. Fionn was deep in meditation and I couldn’t speak with him directly. Oisin was by his side and he explained that something weighs heavy on Fionn's mind. A grave matter linked to the prosperity of the realm. Fionn apparently has sworn to think on this matter until he can understand if there is a significant threat to your kingdom. He asked that I reassure you this is only a precaution, but unfortunately I don't think Fionn will be able dine with you again this evening.”
Cormac sat with both elbows on the table interlocking his hands around the neck of his gold cup. As Diarmuid spoke he stared down into the frothy ale noticing a tiny crack through which beer slowly seeped onto the table.
“So, you didn’t speak to Fionn directly?”
“Yes, that’s correct, he was deep in thought. Bran and Sceolan made sure I didn’t distract him either.”
Cormac had long appreciated Fionn Mac Cumhail's wisdom. He understood only too well the benefits of having such a strategic mind as an ally, after all how many times had Fionn's advice kept enemy ill intentions at bay. Yet, it had been several days since they last ate together and no matter your reputation or title, turning down an invitation from the high king of Ireland was a discourtesy. This felt even stronger since Cormac knew well that Fionn with all his wisdom understood this formality yet declined nonetheless, and without speaking with him directly as to the reason why. The high king could not access all the wisdom of the world, yet after forty years on the throne he knew enough. It was clear to him that Diarmuid was not being truthful. He wiped the ale from the table, then raised his hand waving Diarmuid away.
“Thank you, my High King.” Diarmuid nodded and rushed out of the hall over to Oisin in the stables.
To the Dungeon
“T
ie their hands, they’ll follow us back to Tara.” Fionn flung some rope down at Oisin. He and Diarmuid were sitting on their horses as Eamonn and Aine lay beside them on the ground. Oisin bound their hands together and lifted them onto their feet. He tied the other end of the rope to Diarmuid’s saddle before jumping onto his own horse.
“In the name of Cormac Mac Art, High King of Ireland, I take these two as my prisoners for assault and withholding information.” Fionn turned away from the crowd, all of whom now stood in silence, haunted by what had happened and the whistling and crackling of the cookhouse which crumbled behind them.
“Yah, yah!” Diarmuid dug his heels into the side of his horse as Aine and Eamonn’s arms jolted from the tension of the rope which dragged them along on the journey back to Tara.
In the capital, Cormac continued to drink. By now he had made his way up to his bed chamber and sat on the balcony looking over the barrack's courtyard. The light rain had stopped, replaced by a cold frost which hung in the air cutting straight to the bone. His breath steamed into the moonlit night as he sat with a dark wolf skin cloak wrapped over his shoulders.
A guard suddenly shouted from the watchtower. “Open the gate. Fianna returning. Open the gate.”
Cormac grimaced as the guard’s voice rattled around the stony courtyard.
“It's Fionn, open the gate.”
Upon hearing this, the high king stood from his chair and walked to the edge of the balcony, he watched the men parade through the main gate with two prisoners in tow. As Fionn dismounted he saw Cormac looking down at him and waved up in acknowledgment. Cormac returned with a slight nod before turning and making his way inside.
Diarmuid quickly spoke after seeing the high king.
“Fionn, just to let you know, I came to your chamber earlier on the high king's behalf, he sent me to check why you hadn't joined him for dinner again this evening. “
Oisin heard Diarmuid’s comment and joined in also. “That's right, for the last three nights Cormac has been wondering what you've been up to and sent Diarmuid to check each evening. So, after you woke I told him to explain to the high king that you were deep in meditation, reflecting on an important matter. I'm sure he's eager to speak with you directly.”
Fionn paused, so preoccupied with finding Ena he neglected his friend.
“I'll speak with him first thing in the morning. Oisin, take
these two down to the dungeons. Gather the remaining traps we have and secure all entry points. Diarmuid, go to the high king’s chamber now and notify his squire that I'd like to speak with Cormac at his earliest convenience tomorrow. Good work tonight men.”
Forty Years
“F
or forty years I've sat on this chair. When you came along and slayed that fiery demon I thought you were truly a marvel from the gods, a guide straight from Mag Mall to help keep Ireland safe and allow her people to prosper. Yet sometimes when it suits, you serve Fionn Mac Cumhail above all else, and this makes it difficult for me to be both king and your friend. Help me understand here, Fionn. Why have you once again chosen to ignore your high king?”
Fionn kneeled before Cormac, waiting for the opportunity to speak. It was the following morning and the high king had summoned Fionn to come before him and explain his activities over the previous few days.
“I apologize for not speaking with you directly. I should have explained why I've been so preoccupied. Unfortunately, Oisin and Diarmuid did not understand the full situation either, so I must assume you've been misinformed. However, if you'll allow me, I will gladly talk you through everything that has happened?”
