When they drove out in their chariots to where Cuchulainn was resting, Fergus explained that Edarcomal was under his protection. He went on then to tell of Maeve’s proposal. When Cuchulainn agreed to this Fergus returned to the camp. Edarcomal followed him part of the way, then suddenly turned his chariot towards Cuchulainn, signalling he wanted combat. But Cuchulainn shook his head.
‘You are afraid of me,’ Edarcomal called out jeeringly. When he heard this Cuchulainn drew his sword and rushed at him. Edarcomal leaped from his chariot and raised his sword. But Cuchulainn swiftly cut the ground from under his feet so that he fell flat on his back.
‘Go away now,’ Cuchulainn said. ‘Only for Fergus I’d have cut you in two.’
Edarcomal jumped to his feet. ‘I won’t leave here until I take your head with me!’ he shouted.
‘Let it be so then,’ Cuchulainn said. With a flick of his sword he sliced all the hair off Edarcomal’s head without shedding a drop of blood.
‘Go off now,’ he said, ‘because I’ve made a laughing-stock of you.’
Edarcomal attacked him furiously. But Cuchulainn’s sword flashed like lightning, slicing off his opponent’s clothes so that they fell down leaving him untouched. Still Edarcomal attacked and in the heat of the fight Cuchulainn split his skull with a blow. Edarcomal fell dead to the ground.
When Fergus saw what happened he drove back to Cuchulainn.
‘Why did you do that to one who came here under my protection?’ he demanded angrily.
‘I didn’t cause this fight,’ Cuchulainn explained. ‘He wouldn’t leave unless he took my head with him. He left me no choice.’
‘Well, he’s paid the price of his arrogance,’ Fergus said. He put Edarcomal’s body in his chariot and brought it back to the camp. Maeve stared at the body of her foster-son.
‘I thought he was under your protection,’ she said bitterly.
‘The whelp attacked the Great Hound of Culann,’ Fergus replied. ‘Even I would be lucky to survive an encounter with him!’
‘I will find an opponent to match this demon!’ the queen declared.
‘Who?’
‘Nodcrandal, the greatest warrior in Munster.’
‘But he has already refused to help you. He will hardly come now.’
‘Yes, he will,’ Maeve said confidently, ‘when he hears what I have to offer him.’
She sent a message to Nodcrandal promising him her daughter in marriage if he would come and fight Cuchulainn. Nodcrandal agreed immediately. He jumped into his chariot and drove straight to Maeve’s camp. The queen greeted him warmly. He was a tall powerful man with a curly black beard that covered most of his face.
‘Where is this Cuchulainn?’ he demanded in a fierce booming voice.
Maeve indicated a hill in front of the camp. ‘You will find him there,’ she said.
Nodcrandal turned to set off for the hill. ‘You are forgetting your weapons,’ the queen reminded him.
‘I will make some spears of holly,’ Nodcrandal said. ‘That is all I need to kill this pup.’
On his way up the hill he cut seven spears of holly and whittled them to razor-sharp points. Then he marched to the top of the hill and saw Cuchulainn before him hunting birds.
‘This is the last time you will go hunting, little man,’ he growled and suddenly threw the spears. Cuchulainn heard them whizzing through the air and with a deer-like bound leaped from one spear point to another until he stood on the point of the last spear. Then he sped after the birds for he depended on them for food during the Táin.
When Nodcrandal saw this he thought Cuchulainn was fleeing from him. He laughed and swaggered back to the camp. ‘This great hero you talk about has run away from me,’ he announced boastfully.
‘I knew he would,’ Maeve said. ‘He’s frightened of a real warrior like you.’
But when Fergus heard this he shook his head sadly. He was ashamed it should be said that one man could make Cuchulainn run away. He called one of his messengers. ‘Tell Cuchulainn he should go now and hide since he has fled from one man. He shames all the men of Ulster as well as himself.’
The messenger went and told this to Cuchulainn.
‘Who is boasting of that among you?’ Cuchulainn asked.
‘Nodcrandal,’ the messenger replied.
‘He wouldn’t be boasting now if he’d had real weapons in his hands,’ Cuchulainn said. ‘All he carried were branches of holly. Fergus knows that I don’t kill unarmed men.’ He paused an instant. ‘Tell Nodcrandal to come again tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for him and I won’t run away.’
The messenger returned to the camp and told Nodcrandal what Cuchulainn had said. Nodcrandal snorted in derision. ‘I shall meet the whelp tomorrow and put an end to him!’ he swore.
Early next morning Nodcrandal set out in his chariot to fight Cuchulainn. This time he carried all his weapons. But when Cuchulainn appeared Nodcrandal began to mock him because he had no beard.
‘I can’t take a little lamb’s head back to camp,’ he jeered.
‘Wait here,’ Cuchulainn said. ‘I’ll be back.’
He ran up the hill and gathered two handfuls of moss. Then he dyed it with blackberry juice and stuck it on his chin. He raced back to Nodcrandal and said, ‘Now, let us fight.’
‘First we must settle the rules of combat,’ Nodcrandal declared.
‘Name them yourself,’ Cuchulainn said.
Nodcrandal smiled craftily. ‘You must agree not to dodge my spear when I throw it at you.’
Cuchulainn nodded. Nodcrandal suddenly threw a spear at him but Cuchulainn evaded it by jumping up high.
‘You have cheated by dodging my spear,’ Nodcrandal complained.
‘You can dodge my spear the same way,’ Cuchulainn said.
Nodcrandal prepared to jump as Cuchulainn threw the weapon. But Cuchulainn launched it upwards so that it landed on Nodcrandal’s skull. Nodcrandal bellowed with anger and flung his sword at Cuchulainn. With a great leap Cuchulainn came down on the rim of Nodcrandal’s shield, balanced there an instant, and then cut off his head.
He flung it into the middle of Maeve’s camp. It landed at the queen’s feet. An expression of fury came over her face. She shook her fist at the hill where Cuchulainn lay resting. ‘I will defeat you yet!’ she shouted.
Then she turned and stormed into her tent.
CHAPTER NINE
MORRIGAN
MAEVE SAT A LONG TIME IN HER TENT considering what she should do about Cuchulainn. He had killed many men in her army. And she knew he would kill many more unless she could find a way to stop him. But what worried her most was that she had still failed to capture the Brown Bull of Cooley.
Something must be done! But what? She thought of asking her druid to cast a spell on Cuchulainn. But then she remembered that he had been unaffected by the enchanted sleep put on the men at Eman Macha. Her nostrils twitched with annoyance. His godfather, the great Lug of the Long Arm, probably protected him from magic spells! She racked her brains trying to think of some weakness in her enemy.
Suddenly she smiled. She had just recalled Fergus’s story about Cuchulainn and Fann. Perhaps he could be distracted again by a beautiful woman. She thought of her daughter, then shook her head. No, Cuchulainn would immediately be suspicious. This required more subtle trickery. She smiled again. Who was better for the task than her old friend Morrigan the Witch?
Morrigan, she knew, could change herself into any form. She would ask her to turn herself into a very beautiful woman and go to Cuchulainn.
The queen sent a messenger at once to Morrigan. The witch cackled gleefully when she heard the plan. She had hated Cuchulainn for a long while and was glad of this chance to trick him while helping her royal friend at the same time.
‘Tell the queen I shall go this very evening to see Cuchulainn,’ she said.
That evening Maeve and her army set out once more in search of the Brown Bull. Cuchulainn watched from a nearby hill and got ready to attack th
em.
A beautiful young woman suddenly appeared at his side. She was tall and noble-looking and wore a long glittering cloak of gold. He gazed at her in astonishment.
‘Who are you?’ he asked
‘I am King Buan’s daughter,’ she replied, ‘and I have loved you for a very long time.’
‘Go away!’ Cuchulainn ordered. ‘I have important business to look after here.’
‘Come with me and I will give you all my treasures and cattle,’ the woman said.
‘No,’ Cuchulainn said impatiently. ‘I told you I am busy.’
‘You’ll regret it if you don’t come,’ the woman warned.
‘Can’t you see I’m preparing for combat?’ Cuchulainn said, gesturing at the army which was rapidly disappearing out of sight. ‘My enemies are escaping.’
‘I will be your enemy too,’ the woman said, ‘if you don’t do as I say. I’ll hinder you in battle. When you are fighting in the ford I’ll come in the shape of an eel and trip you up.’
Cuchulainn stared at her angrily. ‘You are no king’s daughter!’ he shouted. ‘I think you are a witch!’
The woman changed suddenly into a snake. Its tongue flickered venomously at Cuchulainn. He drew his sword and aimed a blow at its head. But the snake changed instantly into a raven and with a harsh croak flew quickly away.
Cuchulainn raced after Maeve’s army. But before he caught up with them some slipped away and found where the Brown Bull was hiding. They captured the bull and drove it back towards the rest of the army. Cuchulainn saw them coming and attacked them fiercely. In the fury of battle he failed to notice that a small group of soldiers was escaping with the bull. They hurried as fast as they could back to Maeve.
The queen’s eyes glowed with delight when she saw the Brown Bull. ‘Take it to Cruachan immediately!’ she ordered her herdsman. ‘We will make camp at this ford and stop Cuchulainn from following you.’
Cuchulainn was furious when he discovered the bull was gone. He raced like the wind back to Maeve’s camp and at once began to attack it. The queen sent warriors out one by one to fight them but Cuchulainn killed them all. Then she sent twenty men at a time against him but Cuchulainn killed them too. Worried by the rapid slaughter of her warriors she decided that single combat was best after all. So she ordered the warrior Cuar Mac Daluat out to do battle.
Cuar was the most unpopular man in the camp. He was cranky and disagreeable and nobody liked to sit near him at meals. But he was a good warrior and when he drew blood from a man, that man died within a week.
‘If he kills Cuchulainn our troubles are over,’ Maeve observed. ‘And even if he is killed himself it will be no great loss.’
When Cuar arrived at the ford, Cuchulainn was eating an apple. Cuar hammered on his shield with a spear. Cuchulainn ignored him and went on eating the apple. Cuar threw the spear but it missed. Cuchulainn turned slowly and flung the apple at his head. It cracked Cuar’s skull and he died on the spot.
Maeve then sent for Ferbet who had been one of Cuchulainn’s comrades at the school in Eman Macha.
‘You were trained with Cuchulainn,’ Maeve said. ‘You should know all his tricks. Go out there and fight him.’
‘I do not wish to fight an old friend,’ Ferbet said.
‘I’ll give you my daughter in marriage if you go out and kill him,’ Maeve offered.
‘Very well,’ Ferbet said. ‘I agree.’
He went out to meet Cuchulainn. But Cuchulainn was reluctant to do battle with him. ‘We are old comrades,’ he said. ‘Let’s call off this fight.’
Ferbet shook his head. ‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘I’ve given Maeve my promise.’
‘Keep your friendship then!’ Cuchulainn exclaimed angrily. He turned and went back. But on the way a large splinter of holly pierced the sole of his foot. He pulled it out impatiently and threw it over his shoulder. The splinter soared through the air and embedded itself in Ferbet’s head. He fell dead where he was.
When Maeve’s warriors saw this most of them refused to do single combat with Cuchulainn. So the queen decided to use some trickery. She sent for a rash young warrior called Lairine Mac Nesh. She gave him a lot of wine to drink and then offered him her daughter if he brought in Cuchulainn’s head. Lairine agreed at once. But his only brother Lugad, King of Munster, heard of Maeve’s trickery and became alarmed. He went to see Cuchulainn.
‘Don’t kill Lairine and leave me brotherless,’ he pleaded.
Cuchulainn nodded his head. ‘I won’t kill him’, he promised, ‘but he might be better off dead after I’ve dealt with him.’
Next morning Lairine went out to do battle with Cuchulainn.
He was astonished when Cuchulainn confronted him unarmed. ‘Where are your weapons?’ he asked.
Cuchulainn smiled and said, ‘I don’t need any to deal with you.’
Lairine’s mouth twisted in anger. ‘You’ll be sorry for that insult!’ he roared. With flailing sword he advanced on Cuchulainn. As he came within reach, Cuchulainn grabbed his wrists in a vice-like grip. He shook Lairine furiously and the sword flew out of the warrior’s hands. Then he caught him around the ribs in a crushing hold and shook him like a doll. Finally he flung him back into the camp where he landed in his brother’s arms.
From that day on Lairine had difficulty eating and could not lie down without pain. But he could count himself lucky to have survived after a fight with Cuchulainn. For he was the only man to do so in the Táin.
Maeve then asked a Leinster warrior called Loch to do battle with Cuchulainn. He shook his head in refusal.
‘I won’t fight a beardless youth,’ he declared. ‘But’, he added, ‘my brother Long is willing to go out.’
But when Long went out to fight, Cuchulainn killed him with his sword. His body was carried back to the camp. Loch screamed in anger when he saw his dead brother.
‘If a bearded man had done this I’d make him pay dearly for it!’ he shouted.
Cuchulainn heard his words, put on another false beard, and appeared in front of the camp.
‘Look!’ Maeve said. ‘Cuchulainn has a beard.’ She turned to Loch. ‘It is fitting that you fight him now.’
So Loch went out to do battle with Cuchulainn. They met in the middle of the ford.
‘Now I’ll avenge my brother!’ Loch hissed and raising his sword with both hands he aimed a vicious blow at Cuchulainn’s head. Cuchulainn warded off the blow with the side of his sword.
Then, standing toe to toe, they flailed away at each other so that sparks flew from the clashing steel. A long eel suddenly appeared in the ford. It swam up to Cuchulainn and flung its coils around his feet. He tripped and fell down in the ford. Morrigan had carried out her threat!
When Loch saw Cuchulainn falling back he attacked him savagely, wounding him so badly that the ford was red with blood.
But Laeg was watching from the river bank and he sent the Ga Bolga gliding down the stream. Cuchulainn caught it with his toe and flicked it into Loch’s body. Loch stood swaying for an instant in the middle of the ford.
‘Move back and let me fall on my face,’ he said. ‘If I fall on my back they’ll say I was running away from you.’
Cuchulainn moved back and Loch fell forward on his face, dead. Then Cuchulainn attacked the eel but it swam away and wriggled up on the river bank. Cuchulainn followed it with sword poised to strike. The eel changed immediately into a wolf and came at him with snapping fangs but Cuchulainn struck it on the eye and it fled into the hills howling with pain.
A great tiredness suddenly came over Cuchulainn. His wounds had weakened him and he was weary from fighting Maeve’s warriors on his own. He called Laeg and asked him to go to Eman Macha to try and wake up the Ulstermen. But Laeg refused to leave him.
‘I am thirsty,’ Cuchulainn whispered and he lay on the ground. His charioteer brought him water from the river. He gulped it down and stretched out to rest.
Maeve’s eyes gleamed with triumph when she saw Cuchulainn lying
on the river bank. ‘Attack the pup now!’ she urged the warriors around her. ‘He is too weak to fight.’
A group of them went out at once against Cuchulainn.
‘Maeve’s men are coming!’ Laeg warned.
Cuchulainn rose, went down to the ford, and killed all the warriors that came against him. Then he walked slowly back and made for a nearby hill to rest for the night.
He was gripped again by a raging thirst. Suddenly Morrigan appeared before him in the shape of a one-eyed old woman. She was milking a cow and Cuchulainn asked her for a drink. She nodded smilingly and gave him milk from the cow.
Cuchulainn drank it and turned to thank her. ‘May the gods bless the giver!’ he said. The hag’s missing eye was immediately restored. He stared at her in astonishment.
‘You are that witch!’ he exclaimed.
‘And the eel and the wolf,’ she cackled. ‘Your blessing has healed my eye.’
‘I am sorry I gave it to you,’ Cuchulainn said.
‘You will be even sorrier before the Táin is over,’ she laughed.
And changing into a raven she flew away.
CHAPTER TEN
THE BOY-TROOP OF EMAN MACHA
THAT EVENING CUCHULAINN RESTED ON A HILL looking down on Maeve’s camp. The rows of tents stretched into the distance as far as his eyes could see. The weapons stacked outside glittered in the sunset and dazzled him with their brilliance.
He sighed as he realised how numerous his enemies still were. His wounds stung him and his body ached for sleep. But he knew he dared not sleep. That was the opportunity Maeve and her men were waiting for. He must stay awake!
A sudden rage came over him and he rose and took up his weapons. He rattled them angrily and shouted his fierce battle-cry. The demons of the air answered his shout so that a terrifying noise pierced the sky. A hush fell over the camp below as Maeve and her warriors heard it.
The Táin Page 4
