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“Take this chess board and chess, and then invite the prince to play with you; you shall win the first game. The condition you shall make is that whoever wins a game shall be at liberty to impose whatever geasa (conditions) the winner pleases on the loser. When you win, you must bid the prince, under the penalty either to go into ionarbadh (exile), or procure for you, within the space of a year and a day, the three golden apples that grew in the garden, the each dubh (black steed), and cuileen con na mbuadh (hound of supernatural powers), called Samer, which are in the possession of the king of the Firbolg race, who resides in Lough Erne.* Those two things are so precious, and so well guarded, that he can never attain them by his own power; and, if he would rashly attempt to seek them, he should lose his life.”
The queen was greatly pleased at the advice, and lost no time in inviting Conn-eda to play a game at chess, under the conditions she had been instructed to arrange by the enchantress. The queen won the game, as the enchantress foretold, but so great was her anxiety to have the prince completely in her power, that she was tempted to challenge him to play a second game, which Conn-eda, to her astonishment, and no less mortification, easily won. “Now,” said the prince, “since you won the first game, it is your duty to impose your geis first.” “My geis,” said the queen, “which I impose upon you, is to procure me the three golden apples that grow in the garden, the each dubh (black steed), and cuileen con na mbuadh (hound of supernatural powers), which are in the keeping of the king of the Firbolgs, in Lough Erne, within the space of a year and a day; or, in case you fail, to go into ionarbadh (exile), and never return, except you surrender yourself to loose your head and comhead beatha (preservation of life). “Well, then,” said the prince, “the geis which I bind you by, is to sit upon the pinnacle of yonder tower until my return, and to take neither food nor nourishment of any description, except what red-wheat you can pick up with the point of your bodkin; but if I do not return, you are at perfect liberty to come down at the expiration of the year and a day.”
In consequence of the severe geis imposed upon him, Conn-eda was very much troubled in mind; and, well knowing he had a long journey to make before he would reach his destination, immediately prepared to set out on his way, not, however, before he had the satisfaction of witnessing the ascent of the queen to the place where she was obliged to remain exposed to the scorching sun of the summer and the blasting storms of winter, for the space of one year and a day, at least. Conn-eda being ignorant of what steps he should take to procure the each dubh and cuileen con na mbuadh, though he was well aware that human energy would prove unavailing, thought proper to consult the great Druid, Fionn Dadhna, of Sleabh Badhna, who was a friend of his before he ventured to proceed to Lough Erne. When he arrived at the bruighean of the Druid, he was received with cordial friendship, and the failte (welcome), as usual, was poured out before him, and when he was seated, warm water was fetched, and his feet bathed so that the fatigue he felt after his journey was greatly relieved. The Druid, after he had partaken of refreshments, consisting of the newest of food and oldest of liquors, asked him the reason for paying the visit, and more particularly the cause of his sorrow; for the prince appeared exceedingly depressed in spirit. Conn-eda told his friend the whole history of the transaction with his stepmother from beginning to end. “Can you not assist me?” asked the Prince, with downcast countenance. “I cannot, indeed, assist you at present,” replied the Druid; “but I will retire to my grianan (green place) at sunrising on the morrow, and learn by virtue of my Druidism what can be done to assist you.” The Druid, accordingly, as the sun rose on the following morning, retired to his grianan, and consulted the god he adored, through the power of his draoidheacht.* When he returned, he called Conn-eda aside on the plain, and addressed him thus: “My dear son, I find you have been under a severe—an almost impossible—geis intended for your destruction; no person on earth could have advised the queen to impose it except the Cailleach of Lough Corrib, who is the greatest Druidess now in Ireland, and sister to the Firbolg, King of Lough Erne. It is not in my power, nor in that of the Deity I adore, to interfere in your behalf; but go directly to Sliabh Mis, and consult Eánchinn-duine (the bird of the human head), and if there be any possibility of relieving you, that bird can do it, for there is not a bird in the western world so celebrated as that bird, because it knows all things that are past, all things that are present and exist, and all things that shall hereafter exist. It is difficult to find access to his place of concealment, and more difficult still to obtain an answer from him; but I will endeavor to regulate that matter for you; and that is all I can do for you at present.”
The Arch-Druid then instructed him thus: “Take,” said he, “yonder little shaggy steed, and mount him immediately, for in three days the bird will make himself visible, and the little shaggy steed will conduct you to his place of abode. But lest the bird should refuse to reply to your queries, take this precious stone (leag lorgmhar), and present it to him, and then little danger and doubt exist but that he will give you a ready answer.” The prince returned heartfelt thanks to the Druid and, having saddled and mounted the little shaggy horse without much delay, he received the precious stone from the Druid, and, after having taken his leave of him, set out on his journey. He suffered the reins to fall loose upon the neck of the horse according as he had been instructed, so that the animal took whatever road he chose.
It would be tedious to relate the numerous adventures he had with the little shaggy horse, which had the extraordinary gift of speech, and was a draoidheacht horse during his journey.
The Prince having reached the hiding place of the strange bird at the appointed time, and having presented him with the leag lorgmhar, according to Fionn Badhna’s instructions, and proposed his questions relative to the manner he could best arrange for the fulfilment of his geis, the bird took up in his mouth the jewel from the stone on which it was placed, and flew to an inaccessible rock at some distance, and, when there perched, he thus addressed the prince, “Conn-eda, son of the King of Cruachan,” said he, in a loud, croaking human voice, “remove the stone just under your right foot, and take the ball of iron and corna (cup) you shall find under it; then mount your horse, cast the ball before you, and having so done, your horse will tell you all the other things necessary to be done.” The bird, having said this, immediately flew out of sight.
Conn-eda took great care to do everything according to the instructions of the bird. He found the iron ball and corna in the place which had been pointed out. He took them up, mounted his horse, and cast the ball before him. The ball rolled on at a regular gait, while the little shaggy horse followed on the way it led until they reached the margin of Lough Erne. Here the ball rolled in the water and became invisible. “Alight now,” said the draoidheacht pony, “and put your hand into mine ear; take from thence the small bottle of ice (all-heal) and the little wicker basket which you will find there, and remount with speed, for just now your great dangers and difficulties commence.” Conn-eda, ever faithful to the kind advice of his draoidheacht pony, did what he had been advised. Having taken the basket and bottle of ice from the animal’s ear, he remounted and proceeded on his journey, while the water of the lake appeared only like an atmosphere above his head. When he entered the lake the ball again appeared, and rolled along until it came to the margin, across which was a causeway, guarded by three frightful serpents; the hissings of the monsters was heard at a great distance, while, on a nearer approach, their yawning mouths and formidable fangs were quite sufficient to terrify the stoutest heart. “Now,” said the horse, “open the basket and cast a piece of the meat you will find in it into the mouth of each serpent; when you have done this, secure yourself in your seat in the best manner you can, so that we may make all due arrangements to pass those draoidheacht peists. If you cast the pieces of meat into the mouth of each peist unerringly, we shall pass them safely, otherwise we are lost.” Conn-eda flung the pieces of meat into the jaws of the serpents with unerrin
g aim. “Bare a benison and victory,” said the draoidheacht steed, “for you are a youth that will win and prosper.” And, on saying these words, he sprang aloft, and cleared in his leap the river and ford, guarded by the serpents, seven measures beyond the margin. “Are you still mounted, Prince Conn-eda?” said the steed. “It has taken only half my exertion to remain so,” replied Conn-eda. “I find,” said the pony, “that you are a young prince that deserves to succeed; one danger is now over, but two others remain.” They proceeded onward after the ball until they came in view of a great mountain flaming with fire. “Hold yourself in readiness for another dangerous leap,” said the horse. The trembling prince had no answer to make, but seated himself as securely as the magnitude of the danger before him would permit. The horse in the next instant sprang from the earth, and flew like an arrow over the burning mountain. “Are you still alive, Conn-eda, son of Conn-Mór?” inquired the faithful horse. “I’m just alive, and no more, for I’m greatly scorched,” answered the prince. “Since you are yet alive, I feel assured that you are a young man destined to meet supernatural success and benisons,” said the Druidic steed. “Our greatest dangers are over,” added he, “and there is hope that we shall overcome the next and last danger.” After they had proceeded a short distance, his faithful steed, addressing Conn-eda, said, “Alight, now, and apply a portion of the little bottle of ice to your wounds.” The prince immediately followed the advice of his monitor, and, as soon as he rubbed the ice (all-heal) to his wounds, he became as whole and fresh as ever he had been before. After having done this, Conn-eda remounted, and following the track of the ball, soon came in sight of a great city surrounded by high walls. The only gate that was visible was not defended by armed men, but by two great towers that emitted flames that could be seen at a great distance. “Alight on this plain,” said the steed, “and take a small knife from my other ear; and with this knife you shall kill and flay me. When you have done this, envelope yourself in my hide, and you can pass the gate unscathed and unmolested. When you get inside you can come out at pleasure; because when once you enter there is no danger, and you can pass and repass whenever you wish; and let me tell you that all I have to ask of you in return is that you, when once inside the gates, will immediately return and drive away the birds of prey that may be fluttering round to feed on my carcass; and more, that you will pour any drop of that powerful ice, if such still remain in the bottle, upon my flesh, to preserve it from corruption. When you do this in memory of me, if it be not too troublesome, dig a pit, and cast my remains into it.”
“Well,” said Conn-eda, “my noblest steed, because you have been so faithful to me hitherto, and because you still would have rendered me further service, I consider such a proposal insulting to my feelings as a man, and totally in variance with the spirit which can feel the value of gratitude, not to speak of my feelings as a prince. But as a prince I am able to say, Come what may—come death itself in its most hideous forms and terrors—I never will sacrifice private friendship to personal interest. Hence, I am, I swear by my arms of valor, prepared to meet the worst—even death itself—sooner than violate the principles of humanity, honor, and friendship! What a sacrifice do you propose!” “Pshaw, man! heed not that; do what I advise you, and prosper.” “Never! never!” exclaimed the prince. “Well, then, son of the great western monarch,” said the horse, with a tone of sorrow, “if you do not follow my advice on this occasion, I tell you that both you and I shall perish, and shall never meet again; but, if you act as I have instructed you, matters shall assume a happier and more pleasing aspect than you may imagine. I have not misled you heretofore, and, if I have not, what need have you to doubt the most important portion of my counsel? Do exactly as I have directed you, else you will cause a worse fate than death to befall me. And, moreover, I can tell you that, if you persist in your resolution, I have done with you forever.”
When the prince found that his noble steed could not be persuaded from his purpose, he took the knife out of his ear with reluctance, and with a faltering and trembling hand essayed experimentally to point the weapon at his throat. Conn-eda’s eyes were bathed in tears; but no sooner had he pointed the Druidic scian to the throat of his good steed, than the dagger, as if impelled by some Druidic power, stuck in his neck, and in an instant the work of death was done, and the noble animal fell dead at his feet. When the prince saw his noble steed fall dead by his hand, he cast himself on the ground, and cried aloud until his consciousness was gone. When he recovered, he perceived that the steed was quite dead; and, as he thought there was no hope of resuscitating him, he considered it the most prudent course he could adopt to act according to the advice he had given him. After many misgivings of mind and abundant showers of tears, he essayed the task of flaying him, which was only that of a few minutes. When he found he had the hide separated from the body, he, in the derangement of the moment, enveloped himself in it, and proceeding toward the magnificent city in rather a demented state of mind, entered it without any molestation or opposition. It was a surprisingly populous city, and an extremely wealthy place; but its beauty, magnificence, and wealth had no charms for Conn-eda, because the thoughts of the loss he sustained in his dear steed were paramount to those of all other earthly considerations.
He had scarcely proceeded more than fifty paces from the gate, when the last request of his beloved draoidheacht steed forced itself upon his mind, and compelled him to return to perform the last solemn injunctions upon him. When he came to the spot upon which the remains of his beloved draoidh-eacht steed lay, an appalling sight presented itself; ravens and other carnivorous birds of prey were tearing and devouring the flesh of his dear steed. It was but short work to put them to flight; and having uncorked his little jar of ice, he deemed it a labor of love to embalm the now mangled remains with the precious ointment. The potent ice had scarcely touched the inanimate flesh, when, to the surprise of Conn-eda, it commenced to undergo some strange change, and in a few minutes, to his unspeakable astonishment and joy, it assumed the form of one of the handsomest and noblest young men imaginable, and in the twinkling of an eye the prince was locked in his embrace, smothering him with kisses, and drowning him with tears of joy. When one recovered from his ecstasy of joy, the other from his surprise, the strange youth thus addressed the prince: “Most noble and puissant prince, you are the best sight I ever saw with my eyes, and I am the most fortunate being in existence for having met you! Behold in my person, changed to the natural shape, your little shaggy draoidheacht steed! I am brother of the king of the city; and it was the wicked Druid, Fionn Badhna, who kept me so long in bondage; but he was forced to give me up when you came to consult him, for my geis was then broken; yet I could not recover my pristine shape and appearance unless you had acted as you have kindly done. It was my own sister that urged the queen, your stepmother, to send you in quest of the steed and powerful puppy hound, which my brother has now in keeping. My sister, rest assured, had no thought of doing you the least injury, but much good, as you will find hereafter; because, if she were maliciously inclined toward you, she could have accomplished her end without any trouble. In short, she only wanted to free you from all future danger and disaster, and recover me from my relentless enemies through your instrumentality. Come with me, my friend and deliverer, and the steed and the puppy hound of extraordinary powers, and the golden apples, shall be yours, and a cordial welcome shall greet you in my brother’s abode; for you will deserve all this and much more.”
The exciting joy felt on the occasion was mutual, and they lost no time in idle congratulations, but proceeded on to the royal residence of the King of Lough Erne. Here they were both received with demonstrations of joy by the king and his chieftains; and, when the purpose of Conn-eda’s visit became known to the king, he gave a free consent to bestow on Conn-eda the black steed, the coileen con-na-mbuadh, called Samer, and the three apples of health that were growing in his garden, under the special condition, however, that he would consent to remain
as his guest until he could set out on his journey in proper time, to fulfil his geis. Conn-eda, at the earnest solicitation of his friends, consented, and remained in the royal residence of the Firbolg, King of Lough Erne, in the enjoyment of the most delicious and fascinating pleasures during that period.
When the time of his departure came, the three golden apples were plucked from the crystal tree in the midst of the pleasure garden, and deposited in his bosom; the puppy hound, Samer, was leashed, and the leash put into his hand; and the black steed, richly harnessed, was got in readiness for him to mount. The king himself helped him on horseback, and both he and his brother assured him that he might not fear burning mountains or hissing serpents, because none would impede him, as his steed was always a passport to and from his subaqueous kingdom. And both he and his brother extorted a promise from Conn-eda, that he would visit them once every year at least.
Conn-eda took leave of his dear friend, and the king his brother. The parting was a tender one, soured by regret on both sides. He proceeded on his way without meeting anything to obstruct him, and in due time came in sight of the dún of his father, where the queen had been placed on the pinnacle of the tower, in full hope that, as it was the last day of her imprisonment there, the prince would not make his appearance, and thereby forfeit all pretensions and right to the crown of his father forever.
But her hopes were doomed to meet with a bitter disappointment, for when it had been announced to her by her couriers, who had been posted to watch the arrival of the prince, that he approached, she was incredulous; but when she saw him mounted on a foaming black steed, richly harnessed, and leading a strange kind of animal by a silver chain, she at once knew he was returning in triumph, and that her schemes laid for his destruction were frustrated. In the excess of grief at her disappointment, she cast herself from the top of the tower, and was instantly dashed to pieces. Conn-eda met a welcome reception from his father, who mourned him as lost to him forever, during his absence; and, when the base conduct of the queen became known, the king and his chieftains ordered her remains to be consumed to ashes for her perfidy and wickedness.
