"Who oppresses my vassals, retainers and subjects?" said the King of the Cats.
"The Eagle-Emperor. He has made a law that no cat may leave a man's house as long as the birds (he makes an exception in the case of owls) have any business abroad."
"I will tear him to pieces," said the King of the Cats. "How can I reach him?"
"No cat has thought of reaching him," said Quick-to-Grab, "they only think of keeping out of his way. Now let me advise your Majesty. None of our enemies must know that you have come into this country. You must appear as a common cat."
"What, me?" said the King of the Cats.
"Yes, your Majesty, for the sake of the deliverance of your subjects you will have to appear as a common cat."
"And be submissive and eat scraps?"
"That will be only in the daytime," said Quick-to-Grab, "in the night-time you will have your court and your feasts."
"At least, let the place I stay in be no hovel," said the King of the Cats. "I shall refuse to go into a house where there are washing days—damp clothes before a fire and all that."
"I shall use my best diplomacy to safeguard your comfort and dignity," said Quick-to-Grab, "please invest me as your Prime Minister."
The King of the Cats invested Quick-to-Grab by biting the fur round his neck. Then the King and his Prime Minister parted. The King of the Cats took up quarters for a day or two in a round tower. Quick-to-Grab made a journey through the country-side. He went into every house and whispered a word to every cat that was there, and whether the cat was watching a mouse-hole, or chasing crickets, or playing with kittens, when he or she heard that word they sat up and considered.
III
EARLY, early, next day the King of Ireland's Son rode out in search of the blue falcon, but although he rode from the ring of day to the gathering of the dark clouds he saw no sign of it on rock or tree or in the air. Very wearily he rode back, and after his horse was stabled he stood with Art in the meadows watching the cattle being driven by. And Art, the King's Steward, said: "The Coming of the King of the Cats into King Connal's dominion is a story still to be told.
To your father's Son in all truth be it told"—
QUICK-TO-GRAB, in consultation with the Seven Elders of the Cat-Kin decided that the Blacksmith's forge would be a fit residence for the King of the Cats. It was clean and commodious. But the best reason of all for his going there was this: people and beasts from all parts came into the forge and the King of the Cats might learn from their discussions where the Eagle-Emperor was and how he might be destroyed.
His Majesty found that the Forge was not a bad residence for a King living unbeknownst. It was dry and warm. He liked the look of the flames that mounted up with the blowing of the bellows. He used to sit on a heap of old saddles on the floor and watch the horses being shod or waiting to be shod. He listened to the talk of the men. The people in the Forge treated him respectfully and often referred to his size, his appearance and his fine manners.
Every night he went out to a feast that the cats had prepared for him. Quick-to-Grab always walked back to the Forge with him to give a Prime Minister's advice. He warned His Majesty not to let the human beings know that he understood and could converse in their language—(all cats know men's language, but men do not know that the cats know). He told him not to be too haughty (as a King might be inclined to be) to any creature in the Forge.
The King of the Cats took this advice. He used even to twitch his ears as a mark of respect to Mahon, the hound whose kennel was just outside the forge, and to the hounds that Mahon had to visit him. He even made advances to the Cock who walked up and down outside.
This Cock made himself very annoying to the King of the Cats. He used to strut up and down saying to himself over and over again, "I'm Cock-o'-the-Walk, I'm Cock-o'-the-Walk." Sometimes he would come into the Forge and say it to the horses. The King of the Cats wondered how the human beings could put up with a creature who was so stupid and so vain. He had a red comb that fell over one eye. He had purple feathers on his tail. He had great spurs on his heels. He used to put his head on one side and yawn when the King of the Cats appeared.
Cock-o'-the-Walk used to come into the Forge at night and sleep on the bellows. And when the King of the Cats came back from the feasts he used to waken up and say to himself, "I'm Cock-o'-the-Walk, I'm Cock-o'-the-Walk. The Cats are not a respectable people."
One noonday there were men in the Forge. They were talking to the Smith. Said one, "Could you tell us, Smith, where iron came from?"
The King of the Cats knew but he said nothing. Cock-o'-the-Walk came to the door and held his head as if he were listening.
"I can't tell where iron came from," said the Smith, "but if that Cock could talk he could tell you. The world knows that the Cock is the wisest and the most ancient of creatures."
"I'm Cock-o'-the-Walk," said the Cock to a rusty ass's shoe.
"Yes, the Cock is a wonderful creature," said the man who had asked the question.
"Not wonderful at all," said the King of the Cats, "and if you had asked me I could have told you where iron came from."
"And where did iron come from?" said the Smith.
"From the Mountains of the Moon," said the King of the Cats.
The men in the Forge put their hands on their knees and looked down at him. Mahon the hound came into the Forge with other hounds at his tail, and seeing the men looking at the King of the Cats, Mahon put his nose to him. Cock-o'-the-Walk flapped his wings insolently. The King of the Cats struck at the red hanging comb with his paw. The Cock flew up in the air. The King of the Cats sprang out of the window, and as he did, Mahon and the other hounds sprang after him—
IV
THE King of Ireland's Son rode towards the East the next day, and in the first hour's journey he saw the blue falcon sailing above. He followed where it went and the falcon never lifted nor stooped, but sailed steadily on, only now and again beating the air with its wings. Over benns and through glens and across moors the blue falcon flew and the King of Ireland's Son followed. Then his horse stumbled; he could not go any further, and he lost sight of the blue falcon.
Black night was falling down on the ground when he came back to the King's Castle. Art, the King's Steward, was waiting for him and he walked beside his limping horse. And Art said when they were a little way together, "The Coming of the King of the Cats is a story still to be told.
"To your father's Son in all truth be it told"—
BY the magic powers they possessed it was made known to all the cats in the country that their King was being pursued by the hounds. Then on every hearthstone a cat howled. Cats sprang to the doors, overturning cradles upon children. They stood upon the thresholds and they all made the same curse—"That ye may break your backs, that ye may break your backs before ye catch the King of the Cats."
When he heard the howls of his vassals, retainers and subjects, the King of the Cats turned over on his back and clawed at the first hound that came after him. He stood up then. So firmly did he set himself on his four legs that those that dashed at him did not overthrow him. He humped up his body and lifted his forepaws. The hounds held back. A horn sounded and that gave them an excuse to get away from the claws and the teeth, the power and the animosity of the King of the Cats.
Then, even though it might cost each and every one of them the loss of an eye, the cats that had sight of him came running up. "We will go with you, my lord, we will help you, my lord," they cried all together.
"Go back to the hearthstones," said the King of the Cats. "Go back and be civil and quiet again in the houses. You will hear of my deeds. I go to find the tracks of our enemy, the Eagle-Emperor."
When they heard that announcement the cats lamented, and the noise of their lamentation was so dreadful that horses broke their harnesses where they were yoked; men and women lost the color of their faces thinking some dreadful visitation was coming on the land; every bag of oats and rye turned five times to the right an
d five times to the left with the fright it got; dishes were broken, knives were hurled round, and the King's Castle was shaken to the bottom stone.
"It is not the time to seek the tracks of the Eagle-Emperor," said Quick-to-Grab. "Stay for a while longer in men's houses."
"Never," said the King of the Cats. "Never will I stay by the hearthstone and submit to be abused by cocks and hounds and men. I will range the world openly now and seek out the enemy of the Cat-Kind, the Eagle-Emperor."
Without once turning his back he went towards the wood that was filled with his enemies, the birds. The cats, when they saw their petitions were no use, went everyone back to the house where he or she stayed. Each one sat before a mouse-hole and pretended to be watching. But though mice stirred all round them the cats of Ireland never turned a head that night.
It was the wren, the smallest of birds, that saw him and knew him for the King of the Cats. The wren flew through the wood to summon the Hawk-Clan. But it was towards sunset now and the hawks had taken up their stations at the edge of the wood to watch that they might pick up the farmers' chickens. They wouldn't turn an eye when the wren told them that a cat was in the wood during the time forbidden to cats to be outside the houses of men. "It is the King of the Cats," said the wren. None of the hawks lifted a wing. They were waiting for the chickens that would stray about the moment after sunset.
But if the wren couldn't rouse the Hawk-Clan she was able to rouse the other bird-tribes. "A cat, a cat, on your lives a cat," she called out as she flew through the wood. The rooks that were going home now rose above the trees, cawing threats. The blackbirds, thrushes and jays screamed as they flew before the King of the Cats. The woodpeckers, hedge-sparrows, tom-tits, robins and linnets chattered as they flew behind him. Sometimes the young rooks made a great show of attacking him. They flew down from the flock. "He is here, here, here," they cawed and flew up again. The rooks kept telling themselves and the other birds in the wood what they were going to do with the King of the Cats. But a single raven did more against him than the thousand rooks that made so much noise. This raven was in a hole in the tree. She struck the King of the Cats on the head with her beak as he went past.
The King of the Cats was annoyed by the uproar the birds were making and he was angered by the raven's stroke, but he did not want to enter into a battle with the birds. He was on his way to the house of the Hag of the Wood who was then known as the Hag of the Ashes. Now as this is the first time you have heard of the Hag of the Ashes, I'll have to tell you how the King of the Cats had heard of her and how he knew where her house was in the wood.
V
THE next day the King's Son put a bridle on the Slight Red Steed and rode towards the East again. He saw the blue falcon and he followed where it flew. Over benns, and through glens and across mountains and moors the blue falcon went and the Slight Red Steed neither swerved nor stumbled but went as the bird flew. The falcon lighted on a pine tree that grew alone. The King's Son rode up and put his hands to the tree to climb and put his head against it, and as he did he heard speech from the tree. "The stroke of the Sword of Light will slay the King of the Land of Mist and the stroke of the Sword of Light that will cut a tress of her hair will awaken Fedelma." There was no more speech from the tree and the falcon rose from its branches and flew high up in the air. Then the King of Ireland's Son rode back towards his father's Castle.
He went to the meadow and stood with Art and listened to what Art had to tell him. And as before the King's Steward began—
"To your father's Son in all truth be it told"—
QUICK-TO-GRAB had said to the King of the Cats, "If ever you need the counsel of a human being, go to no one else but the Hag of the Ashes who was once called the Hag of the Wood. In the very centre of the wood four ash trees are drawn together at the tops, wattles are woven round these ash trees, and in the little house made in this way the Hag of the Ashes lives, with no one near her since her nine daughters went away, but her goat that's her only friend." The King of the Cats was now in the centre of the wood. He saw four ash trees drawn together at the tops and he jumped to them.
Now the Hag of the Ashes had a bad neighbor. This was a crane that had built her nest across the roof of the little house. The nest prevented the smoke from coming out at the top and the house below was filled with it. The Hag could hardly keep alive on account of the smoke and she could neither take away the nest nor banish the bird.
The crane was there when the King of the Cats sprang on the roof. She was sitting with her two legs stretched out, and when the King of the Cats came down beside her she slipped away and sailed over the trees. "Time for me to be going," said the crane. And from that day to this she never came back to the house of the Hag of the Ashes.
"Oh, thanks to you, good creature," said the Hag of the Ashes, coming out of the house. "Tear down her nest now and let the smoke rise up through the roof."
The King of the Cats tore up the sticks and wool that the crane's nest was made of, and the smoke came up through the top of the house. "Oh, thanks to you, good creature, that has destroyed the cross crane's nest. Come down on my floor now and I'll do everything that will serve you."
The King of the Cats jumped down on the floor of the Hag's house and saw the Hag of the Ashes sitting in a corner. She was a little, little woman in a gray cloak. All over the floor there were ashes in heaps, for she used to light a fire in one corner and when it was burnt out light another beside the ashes of the first. The smoke had never gone through the hole in the roof since the crane had built her nest on the top of the house. Her face was yellow with the smoke and her eyes were half closed on account of it.
"Do you know who I am, Hag of the Ashes?" said the King of the Cats when he stood on the floor.
"You are a cat, honey," said the Hag of the Ashes.
"I am the King of the Cats."
"The King of the Cats you are indeed. And it was you who let the smoke out of the top of my little house by destroying the nest the cross crane had built on it."
"It was I who did that."
"Welcome to you then, King of the Cats. And what service can the Hag of the Ashes do for you in return?"
"I would go to where the Eagle-Emperor is. You must show me the way."
"By my cloak I will do that. The Eagle-Emperor lives on the top of the Hill of Horns."
"And how can I get to the top of the Hill of Horns?"
"I don't know how you can get there at all. All over the Hill is bare starvation. No four-footed thing can reach the top—no four-footed thing, I mean, but my goat that's tied to the hawthorn bush outside."
"I will ride on the back of your goat to the top of the Hill of Horns."
"No, no, good King of the Cats. I have only my goat for company and how could I bear to be parted from him?"
"Lend me your goat, and when I come back from the Hill of Horns I will plate his horns with gold and shoe his hooves with silver."
"No, no, good King of the Cats. How could I bear my goat to be away from me, and I having no other company?"
"If you do not let me ride on your goat to the top of the Hill of Horns I will leave a sign on your house that will bring the cross crane to build her nest on the top of it again."
"Then take my goat, King of the Cats, take my goat but let him come back to me soon."
"I will. Come with me now and bid him take me to the top of the Hill of Horns."
The King of the Cats marched out of the house and the Hag of the Ashes hobbled after him. The goat was lying under the hawthorn bush. He put his horns to the ground when they came up to him.
"Will you go to the Hill of Horns?" said the Hag of the Ashes.
"Indeed, that I will not do," said the goat.
"Oh, the soft tops of the hedges on the way to the Hill of Horns—sweet in the mouth of a goat they should be," said the Hag of the Ashes. "But my own poor goat wants to stay here and eat the tops of the burnt-up thistles."
"Why didn't you tell me of the hedges on
the way to the Hill of Horns before?" said the goat, rising to his feet. "To the Hill of Horns I'll go."
"And will you let a cat ride on your back to the Hill of Horns?"
"Indeed, I will not do that."
"Then, my poor goat, I'll not untie the rope that's round your neck, for you can't go to the Hill of Horns without this cat riding on your back."
"Let him sit on my back then and hold my horns, and I'll take no notice of him."
The Hag of the Ashes untied the rope that was round his neck, the King of the Cats jumped up on the goat's back, and they started off on the path through the Wood. "Oh, how I'll miss my goat, until he comes back to me with gold on his horns and silver on his hooves," the Hag of the Ashes cried after them.
VI
THE King of Ireland's Son did not leave the Castle the next day, but stayed to question those who came to it about the Sword of Light. And some had heard of the Sword of Light and some had not heard of it. In the afternoon he was in the chambers of the Castle and he watched his two foster-brothers, Dermott and Downal, the sons of Caintigern, the Queen, playing chess. They played the game upon his board and with his figures. And when he went up to them and told them they had permission to use the board and the figures, they said, "We had forgotten that you owned these things." The King's Son saw that everything in the Castle was coming into the possession of his foster-brothers.
He found another board with other chess-men and he played a game with the King's Steward. And Art said, "The coming of the King of the Cats into King Connal's Dominion is a story still to be told.
"To your father's Son in all truth be it told"—
WHAT should a goat do but ramble down laneways, wander across fields, stray along hedges and stay to rest, under shady trees? All this the Hag's goat did. But at last he brought the King of the Cats to the foot of the Hill of Horns.
And what was the Hill of Horns like, asks my kind foster-child. It was hills of stones on the top of a hill of stones. Only a goat could foot it from pebble to stone, from stone to boulder, from boulder to crag, and from crag to mountain-shoulder. It was well and not ill what the Hag's goat did. But then thunder sounded; lightning struck fire out of the stones, the wind mixed itself with the rain and the tempest pelted cat and goat. The goat stood on a mountain-shoulder. The wind rushed up from the bottom and carried the companions to the top of the Hill of Horns. Down sprang the cat. But the goat stood on his hind-legs to butt back at the wind. The wind caught him between the beard and the under-quarters and swept him from the top and down the other side of the hill (and what happened to the Hag's goat after this I never heard). The King of the Cats put his claws into the crevices of a standing stone and held to it with great tenacity. And then, when the wind abated and he looked across his shoulder, he found that he was standing beside the nest of the Eagle-Emperor.
The King of Ireland's Son, Illustrated Edition (Yesterday's Classics) Page 5
