A Giant's Dream (The Fay Folk Series)

by Alan Fisher

  A pen, some notes, invoices and a few sweet wrappers still lay on the ground outside Finnegus's cottage. Paper stuck to his feet as he unlocked the door and went inside. His small house was more of a drinks cellar than a home. One bedroom and one kitchen, each stacked with bottles, carefully stored on shelves in both rooms. Beside every bottle was a small paper note. After thousands of years distilling, Finnegus had experimented with so many spells that he needed to keep track of the after effects infused into each concoction. He pushed aside the wooden table that sat in the middle of his kitchen revealing a hidden doorway. Pulling it open Finnegus went down the winding staircase which led into a narrow cave further underground. This was his main distillery and storage cellar. The wood creaked as he walked down into a candle lit hallway. On either side, he’d stacked oak barrels filled with maturing whiskey. Down the hall, shiny golden pots bubbled away reflecting the candle light around the room. Beside these pots was a dusty book chest. Finnegus opened the iron pad lock and raised the lid. Inside was a patched purple cushion with three whiskey bottles laid out carefully, each with a little handwritten memo underneath.

  From left to right they read...

  'Burps,' 'Hiccups,' and 'Heartburn.'

  He wasted no time lifting the bottle that read 'Burps' underneath and went to leave before quickly changing his mind and swopping it for another. With the bottle and scabbard in hand he rushed back upstairs and out of the house, making his way over to the portal Ena had just walked through.

  It was the late afternoon when Ena emerged from the cave on the Red Hill. He quickly found a safe place to hide that looked over Tara and stared at the city gates, considering the traps Fionn had likely set in anticipation of him coming to rescue his friends.

  Chanting and music rang from the city. It had been one day since Cormac had passed. Instead of hosting the grand wedding between himself and Grainne as planned, the new High King, Fionn Mac Cumhail decided that with so many allies visiting the city, it would be better to honor the life of Cormac Mac Art with a grand feast. He would postpone the wedding to allow time for the country to grieve, instead giving his old friend one final celebration before sending him off to Mag Mell.

  Bands had been commissioned to play music all day and Cormac’s body was on display in the great hall. That evening loyal followers could say farewell before Cormac was cremated. The new high king would toast to his friend’s life and send him to the Otherworld with honor.

  “Did you have anything to do with his death?” Fionn asked Taiko. She was still caged, cramped in a tiny corner of Fionn's room. He was getting ready for the evening’s feast and questioned her as to her involvement in Cormac’s death.

  “It doesn’t work like that. By being here, my Tamashi bestows good fortune on you. But, I have no control over how that will come to be, it is linked to your desires, your dreams. If you feel my presence has helped you become high king, then that was your desire.” Taiko kneeled glumly on the floor as she spoke. Fionn’s traps combined with his newly found good fortune would surely make any rescue attempt a fool's errand. She worried further that the longer she remained captive the stronger Fionn would become.

  “I can concede that I've longed to be high king. However, not at the expensive of my friend. My first act shall be to honor Cormac. He shall have a glorious send off, even the gods will be in awe as they welcome him through the gates of Mag Mell.” Fionn threw a wolf skin cloak over his shoulders and covered over Taiko’s cage with a blanket. He then emerged out of his room where Diarmuid was waiting.

  “Stay vigilant this evening. With so many soldiers in the city we need to take extra precautions. We’ll mourn the loss of Cormac, but we must be mindful of the dangers. That leprechaun could still show his face also.” Fionn cautioned Diarmuid with a gentle slap on the shoulder and walked from the barracks making his way over to the great hall. Before Fionn entered, he turned to Diarmuid one last time and whispered to his friend.

  “Vigilance.” Diarmuid turned and walked in the direction of the keep while Fionn entered the hall. He was greeted by affectionate chants from the thousands that had gathered.

  “Fionn Mac Cumhail, High King of Ireland!”

  “Fionn Mac Cumhail, High King of Ireland!”

  “Fionn Mac Cumhail, High King of Ireland!”

  He walked towards Cormac’s body which lay on display in the middle of the hall. Removing his cloak, he draped it across his friend’s body and kissed him on the forehead. Fionn then walked over to take his seat on the high king’s throne. A large cheer erupted the moment he sat down.

  Ena could hear the chanting from his hilltop. “That can't be...High King of Ireland.” Grinding his teeth, he stood from the ground still clutching his father’s dagger and charged at the city only for a hand on the shoulder to pull him back.

  “What the...?” Ena said looking around.

  “Finnegus, what are you doing? Get off me.”

  “I'm here to stop you from doing something foolish. What have you got there?” Finnegus asked tilting his head towards the dagger.

  “You don't understand,” Ena said, jerking Finnegus's hand from his shoulder.

  “Help me understand.”

  “I have to do this. He has Taiko.”

  Finnegus stretched out his hand and looked directly into Ena's eyes. “I may be an old fool, but I promised your parents I’d keep an eye on you and your sister. You know, to stop you from following in my footsteps. Now pass me that before you run down there and get yourself killed.”

  Ena dropped his head and passed him the dagger. Finnegus sheathed the blade and tucked it neatly into his belt, before taking a seat on a nearby log.

  “Come, sit down, together we’ll figure something out. Perhaps you can start by telling me what’s really going on here.”

  Ena sat down beside him and then talked. Meanwhile the feast in the great hall was well underway, drinking horns overflowed and people took turns sharing stories about their former high king. Eventually, Fionn stood from his throne and walked towards Cormac, ale cup in hand. The room went quiet as he approached the body of his departed friend. No fire burned in the center of the hall, instead Cormac lay on a wooden table elevated off the ground on a bed of dried hay, twigs, and logs. Beside him was a torch sitting on top of a pole loosely dug into the ground. There was absolute silence as Fionn walked forward and touched his old friend on the shoulder.

  “The first time I met Cormac Mac Art was in this room,” he said, turning towards the crowd, one hand still gripping his friend.

  “He was sitting on the throne preparing for another attack from Aillen Mac Midhna. I stood before him proclaiming that I would be the one to kill the demon. Of course, the room burst into laughter. After all, who was I, nothing more than a boy standing in the great hall of Tara in front of Ireland’s finest warriors declaring I would kill this creature, this evil who’d killed so many, for so long. Yet Cormac didn’t laugh, instead he thanked me for lightening the mood and despite my young age gave me permission to stand with his mighty Fianna that night. The next morning when I brought him the head of Aillen, I could see he was delighted to grant me a second wish. He had long been a friend of my father and it brought him great pleasure restoring his friend’s bloodline to the head of the Fianna. So, today I keep that tradition and I pass that honor to my son, Oisin.” The crowd cheered as Fionn pointed over to Oisin, who nodded back at his father.

  “Now, let’s toast to the great Cormac Mac Art. During his forty years as high king, he brought peace and prosperity to Ireland. For this we shall always be grateful. Go now my old friend, you’ve served your country well and I look forward to when we meet again. To Cormac Mac Art!” Fionn raised his cup and the whole room drank. He then took hold of the torch burning beside him and set alight to the hay and twigs. Before long the flames engulfed Cormac’s body. The crowd watched as the smoke billowed through the hall’s roof, all hoping to catch a glimpse of his spirit as he departed for the Otherworld.

 
“So, he has traps like these all over?” Finnegus asked.

  “I’m certain of it. Hundreds no doubt, throughout the city and keep,” Ena replied.

  “And you were just going to charge down?” Finnegus shook his head. “Right, we wait a little, let their ale barrels empty, then make our move.”

  “What move? What about the traps? How can we get around them?” Ena asked.

  “Who says we need to get around them?” Finnegus smiled as he stretched and crossed his feet on a log. “They’re not going anywhere. Let’s enjoy this lovely sunset and when the city quietens down, I've an idea.”

  Ena scratched the back of his neck as he watched Finnegus get comfortable. He didn’t want to wait but agreed it was the right thing to do.

  As they sat looking up, one by one the stars began to appear in the night sky and the wind carried music and chanting over the Red Hill. Several hours passed before a calm finally took hold over Tara and Ena stood.

  “It sounds like they've finally slowed down, are you ready? What’s your idea?” Ena asked.

  Finnegus slowly pushed himself off the ground and drew the dagger from his belt. He then wrapped his teeth around the cork of the bottle and popped it open, spitting it onto the ground.

  “Remember, Ena, stay behind me, you'll know when,” he replied.

  Finnegus once again smiled, then drank from the bottle and wiped his mouth as he finished.

  “Whoaaa…that certainly picked up a kick over the years.” The whiskey seemed to cause Finnegus some discomfort and he began to lightly pound on his chest.

  “Hic...hic...”

  He heaved once more and continued pounding away.

  “Hic…Hic…Hiccup.” As Finnegus gasped for air something strange happened. The hiccup prompted a spirit to abruptly emerge from his chest and float to his side. Standing before him, it's translucent form flickered, slow at first growing faster and faster. After a few moments, the spirit was no more and another Finnegus, a cloned copy stood in its place. He had heaved a mirror version of himself. Ena’s eyebrows raised as he looked upon two Finneguses, each with the same scruffy clothes, grey beard and pot belly standing barefoot before him. They looked one another up and down, and after a brief tilt of the head acknowledging the other, they drank from the bottle one more time.

  “Hiccup.”

  Again, two more spirits emerged and flickered into reality.

  “Hiccup.”

  Then eight...sixteen...thirty-two...sixty-four and so on until hundreds of drunken old leprechauns littered the Red Hill, all wobbling from side to side having gulped downed several mouthfuls of whiskey.

  “Finnegus?” Ena whispered to the crowd now standing before him. He had lost track of the original.

  A group of five or six Finneguses standing closest to Ena raised their fingers and shushed in reply. They and the rest of the army then charged down the hill shaking the ground as they ran. After twenty or so feet, they all vanished. Ena watched in awe as this Finnegus army reappeared just before the city wall and swarmed over the gate. The Fianna guards on duty were quickly subdued before they could raise the alarm. White flashes intermittently glared across the wall as clones were snared by Fionn's hidden traps. Ena knew now was the time. He could make his way to the keep by following this inebriated cannon fodder. Rushing down to the city gate he watched as the Fianna guards, despite their large size, struggled to fend off so many armed leprechauns. Each time they’d strike one down another would hiccup and reproduce a replacement. The Giants on the wall had leprechauns hanging from each limb hacking away with their little daggers.

  Those that were captured in the cages continued to hiccup. Some were crushed to death as they crammed together, yet as more and more Finneguses appeared, the metal bars eventually gave way and burst open, freeing whomever was still alive to continue their march towards the keep. Disappearing, reappearing, hacking, drinking and replicating their way through the city, the sprite army swiftly and stealthily overcame most of Fionn defenses within a few short minutes as the high king lay fast asleep in his chambers.

  As Ena reached the castle courtyard he watched as Diarmuid and a few Fianna guards stood strong, carving away dozens of clones at a time with each swing of their broadswords.

  “This is the leprechaun Fionn warned us about. We need to alert the high king,” Diarmuid shouted to his men.

  Hearing his order every Finnegus clone in the courtyard descended on Diarmuid and his seven Fianna guards. By now the Finnegus army numbered in its thousands, and a circle formed around Diarmuid. Ena arrived at the keep just as the leprechauns swarmed on the remaining men. He watched for a moment as Diarmuid carved through dozens of clones at a time before slipping quietly into the barracks.

  He made his way underground to the dungeons.

  “Aine? Eamonn? Are you there?” he whispered as he walked down a dimly lit walkway. On either side were holding cells for prisoners. The poor light made it difficult to see past the steel bars and into the cells. Ena continued along calling to Aine and Eamonn.

  “Over here, help us,” said a faint voice coming from a cell down at the very back of the room.

  “Wait,” said a Finnegus clone who had followed Ena. He rushed passed and was snared by another trap just beside the cell. Caught in the cage he shrugged his shoulders and took a drink from his bottle.

  “Aine? Eamonn? Is that you?” Ena asked.

  “Yes, please help us,” replied a faint voice through the cell bars.

  Ena took the dagger from one of the clones now snared in the cage and began to pick the cell door’s lock. Prying it open he freed Aine and Eamonn.

  “Quick come, we’re here to rescue you.” Just as he spoke the magic cage burst open and four Finneguses stood by his side, several more lay on the ground groaning.

  “Follow us,” Ena said, gesturing with his hand.

  Everyone hurried back upstairs and out of the barracks where a fierce battle still raged between Diarmuid, his men and the Finnegus army. Ena and his four followers escorted Aine and Eamonn to the courtyard entrance. It was then that Diarmuid caught sight of them trying to escape and charged in their direction.

  “Quick, run to Dulta Og’s horse shed, it will be safe there. I will come for you,” Ena said, ushering them away.

  “Why don’t you come with us now?” Eamonn asked.

  With that the four Finneguses drank the final drop from their bottles and leaped to engage Diarmuid who was carving his way towards the gate.

  “My friend is still here somewhere, I need to find her. Now go, as fast as you can,” Ena said finally ushering Aine and Eamonn away. He watched briefly as they fled the city before turning back and looking across the courtyard. Bodies of fallen Finnegus clones piled high around Diarmuid and his men. Hundreds remained to carry the fight, however, their whiskey was running low and Ena’s time was running out. He needed to find Taiko quickly.

  He leaped and gripped the castle wall, hanging from a protruding stone he swung across and landed on a window ledge. Looking up, he could see Fionn’s bed chamber. Ena understood Taiko’s power set well and it was clear to him that her good fortune must surely have given Fionn the high kingship. If he was now holding her somewhere it would have to be nearby his living quarters. Ena continued to spring along the castle wall, from stone to stone, until he reached Fionn’s chambers on the top floor of the Barracks.

  Taiko was laying on the floor of her cage with a pillow over her head attempting to drown out Fionn’s snores and wheezes. The night’s feast and ale had taken its toll on the high king and he was now dead to the world asleep in his bed, completely unaware of the battle raging below. Bran and Sceolan, however, clearly seemed rattled by the noises coming from the courtyard and paced around the room. Their behavior suddenly became more frantic which caught Taiko’s attention. They both now perched their two front paws up on the window ledge and their tales wagged uncontrollably.

  Taiko peered through a hole in the blanket covering her cage and watched as
Ena landed on the ledge to a frenzied welcome from the wolfhounds.

  “You’re here,” she whispered as he leaped down from the window and hurried over to the cage to remove the blanket.

  “Taiko, are you okay?” Ena said, picking at the lock. Bran and Sceolan continued to lick his face as he worked. The door then popped open and Taiko leaped forward to hug him.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t make it.”

  “Me too, I was willing to die trying. Fortunately, Finnegus had another surprise up his sleeve to help me slip past the guards and traps. I’m so sorry to get you involved in all this, Taiko. Please forgive me,” he said, grabbing her hand.

  “On one condition,” Taiko replied, looking him directly in the eyes.

  “What is it? Anything.”

  “He doesn’t know, if you show him what happened he might understand. Now is your chance, I’ll be with you all the way.” Taiko gripped Ena’s hand and tilted her head over towards Fionn, who was still snoring in his bed.

  The Dream – Part II

  E na didn’t reply, stone-faced he simply stared at the sleeping giant. Taiko tightened her grip, letting him know this was the only option she could support. He looked at her and shook his head.

  Once more she forced her point. “No. Show him. You promised me when you came looking for my help. You must at least show him why.”