Celtic Fairy Tales (8 page)

But the sprightly tailor gained his reward: for Macdonald paid him
handsomely for the trews, and never discovered that a few of the
stitches were somewhat long.

There was a man in Ireland once who was called Malcolm Harper. The
man was a right good man, and he had a goodly share of this world's
goods. He had a wife, but no family. What did Malcolm hear but that
a soothsayer had come home to the place, and as the man was a right
good man, he wished that the soothsayer might come near them.
Whether it was that he was invited or that he came of himself, the
soothsayer came to the house of Malcolm.

"Are you doing any soothsaying?" says Malcolm.

"Yes, I am doing a little. Are you in need of soothsaying?"

"Well, I do not mind taking soothsaying from you, if you had
soothsaying for me, and you would be willing to do it."

"Well, I will do soothsaying for you. What kind of soothsaying do
you want?"

"Well, the soothsaying I wanted was that you would tell me my lot or
what will happen to me, if you can give me knowledge of it."

"Well, I am going out, and when I return, I will tell you."

And the soothsayer went forth out of the house and he was not long
outside when he returned.

"Well," said the soothsayer, "I saw in my second sight that it is on
account of a daughter of yours that the greatest amount of blood
shall be shed that has ever been shed in Erin since time and race
began. And the three most famous heroes that ever were found will
lose their heads on her account."

After a time a daughter was born to Malcolm, he did not allow a
living being to come to his house, only himself and the nurse. He
asked this woman, "Will you yourself bring up the child to keep her
in hiding far away where eye will not see a sight of her nor ear
hear a word about her?"

The woman said she would, so Malcolm got three men, and he took them
away to a large mountain, distant and far from reach, without the
knowledge or notice of any one. He caused there a hillock, round and
green, to be dug out of the middle, and the hole thus made to be
covered carefully over so that a little company could dwell there
together. This was done.

Deirdre and her foster-mother dwelt in the bothy mid the hills
without the knowledge or the suspicion of any living person about
them and without anything occurring, until Deirdre was sixteen years
of age. Deirdre grew like the white sapling, straight and trim as
the rash on the moss. She was the creature of fairest form, of
loveliest aspect, and of gentlest nature that existed between earth
and heaven in all Ireland—whatever colour of hue she had before,
there was nobody that looked into her face but she would blush fiery
red over it.

The woman that had charge of her, gave Deirdre every information and
skill of which she herself had knowledge and skill. There was not a
blade of grass growing from root, nor a bird singing in the wood,
nor a star shining from heaven but Deirdre had a name for it. But
one thing, she did not wish her to have either part or parley with
any single living man of the rest of the world. But on a gloomy
winter night, with black, scowling clouds, a hunter of game was
wearily travelling the hills, and what happened but that he missed
the trail of the hunt, and lost his course and companions. A
drowsiness came upon the man as he wearily wandered over the hills,
and he lay down by the side of the beautiful green knoll in which
Deirdre lived, and he slept. The man was faint from hunger and
wandering, and benumbed with cold, and a deep sleep fell upon him.
When he lay down beside the green hill where Deirdre was, a troubled
dream came to the man, and he thought that he enjoyed the warmth of
a fairy broch, the fairies being inside playing music. The hunter
shouted out in his dream, if there was any one in the broch, to let
him in for the Holy One's sake. Deirdre heard the voice and said to
her foster-mother: "O foster-mother, what cry is that?" "It is
nothing at all, Deirdre—merely the birds of the air astray and
seeking each other. But let them go past to the bosky glade. There
is no shelter or house for them here." "Oh, foster-mother, the bird
asked to get inside for the sake of the God of the Elements, and you
yourself tell me that anything that is asked in His name we ought to
do. If you will not allow the bird that is being benumbed with cold,
and done to death with hunger, to be let in, I do not think much of
your language or your faith. But since I give credence to your
language and to your faith, which you taught me, I will myself let
in the bird." And Deirdre arose and drew the bolt from the leaf of
the door, and she let in the hunter. She placed a seat in the place
for sitting, food in the place for eating, and drink in the place
for drinking for the man who came to the house. "Oh, for this life
and raiment, you man that came in, keep restraint on your tongue!"
said the old woman. "It is not a great thing for you to keep your
mouth shut and your tongue quiet when you get a home and shelter of
a hearth on a gloomy winter's night."

"Well," said the hunter, "I may do that—keep my mouth shut and my
tongue quiet, since I came to the house and received hospitality
from you; but by the hand of thy father and grandfather, and by your
own two hands, if some other of the people of the world saw this
beauteous creature you have here hid away, they would not long leave
her with you, I swear."

"What men are these you refer to?" said Deirdre.

"Well, I will tell you, young woman," said the hunter.

"They are Naois, son of Uisnech, and Allen and Arden his two
brothers."

"What like are these men when seen, if we were to see them?" said
Deirdre.

"Why, the aspect and form of the men when seen are these," said the
hunter: "they have the colour of the raven on their hair, their skin
like swan on the wave in whiteness, and their cheeks as the blood of
the brindled red calf, and their speed and their leap are those of
the salmon of the torrent and the deer of the grey mountain side.
And Naois is head and shoulders over the rest of the people of
Erin."

"However they are," said the nurse, "be you off from here and take
another road. And, King of Light and Sun! in good sooth and
certainty, little are my thanks for yourself or for her that let you
in!"

The hunter went away, and went straight to the palace of King
Connachar. He sent word in to the king that he wished to speak to
him if he pleased. The king answered the message and came out to
speak to the man. "What is the reason of your journey?" said the
king to the hunter.

"I have only to tell you, O king," said the hunter, "that I saw the
fairest creature that ever was born in Erin, and I came to tell you
of it."

"Who is this beauty and where is she to be seen, when she was not
seen before till you saw her, if you did see her?"

"Well, I did see her," said the hunter. "But, if I did, no man else
can see her unless he get directions from me as to where she is
dwelling."

"And will you direct me to where she dwells? and the reward of your
directing me will be as good as the reward of your message," said
the king.

"Well, I will direct you, O king, although it is likely that this
will not be what they want," said the hunter.

Connachar, King of Ulster, sent for his nearest kinsmen, and he told
them of his intent. Though early rose the song of the birds mid the
rocky caves and the music of the birds in the grove, earlier than
that did Connachar, King of Ulster, arise, with his little troop of
dear friends, in the delightful twilight of the fresh and gentle
May; the dew was heavy on each bush and flower and stem, as they
went to bring Deirdre forth from the green knoll where she stayed.
Many a youth was there who had a lithe leaping and lissom step when
they started whose step was faint, failing, and faltering when they
reached the bothy on account of the length of the way and roughness
of the road.

"Yonder, now, down in the bottom of the glen is the bothy where the
woman dwells, but I will not go nearer than this to the old woman,"
said the hunter.

Connachar with his band of kinsfolk went down to the green knoll
where Deirdre dwelt and he knocked at the door of the bothy. The
nurse replied, "No less than a king's command and a king's army
could put me out of my bothy to-night. And I should be obliged to
you, were you to tell who it is that wants me to open my bothy
door."

"It is I, Connachar, King of Ulster." When the poor woman heard who
was at the door, she rose with haste and let in the king and all
that could get in of his retinue.

When the king saw the woman that was before him that he had been in
quest of, he thought he never saw in the course of the day nor in
the dream of night a creature so fair as Deirdre and he gave his
full heart's weight of love to her. Deirdre was raised on the
topmost of the heroes' shoulders and she and her foster-mother were
brought to the Court of King Connachar of Ulster.

With the love that Connachar had for her, he wanted to marry Deirdre
right off there and then, will she nill she marry him. But she said
to him, "I would be obliged to you if you will give me the respite
of a year and a day." He said "I will grant you that, hard though it
is, if you will give me your unfailing promise that you will marry
me at the year's end." And she gave the promise. Connachar got for
her a woman-teacher and merry modest maidens fair that would lie
down and rise with her, that would play and speak with her. Deirdre
was clever in maidenly duties and wifely understanding, and
Connachar thought he never saw with bodily eye a creature that
pleased him more.

Deirdre and her women companions were one day out on the hillock
behind the house enjoying the scene, and drinking in the sun's heat.
What did they see coming but three men a-journeying. Deirdre was
looking at the men that were coming, and wondering at them. When the
men neared them, Deirdre remembered the language of the huntsman,
and she said to herself that these were the three sons of Uisnech,
and that this was Naois, he having what was above the bend of the
two shoulders above the men of Erin all. The three brothers went
past without taking any notice of them, without even glancing at the
young girls on the hillock. What happened but that love for Naois
struck the heart of Deirdre, so that she could not but follow after
him. She girded up her raiment and went after the men that went past
the base of the knoll, leaving her women attendants there. Allen and
Arden had heard of the woman that Connachar, King of Ulster, had
with him, and they thought that, if Naois, their brother, saw her,
he would have her himself, more especially as she was not married to
the King. They perceived the woman coming, and called on one another
to hasten their step as they had a long distance to travel, and the
dusk of night was coming on. They did so. She cried: "Naois, son of
Uisnech, will you leave me?" "What piercing, shrill cry is that—the
most melodious my ear ever heard, and the shrillest that ever struck
my heart of all the cries I ever heard?" "It is anything else but
the wail of the wave-swans of Connachar," said his brothers. "No!
yonder is a woman's cry of distress," said Naois, and he swore he
would not go further until he saw from whom the cry came, and Naois
turned back. Naois and Deirdre met, and Deirdre kissed Naois three
times, and a kiss each to his brothers. With the confusion that she
was in, Deirdre went into a crimson blaze of fire, and her colour
came and went as rapidly as the movement of the aspen by the stream
side. Naois thought he never saw a fairer creature, and Naois gave
Deirdre the love that he never gave to thing, to vision, or to
creature but to herself.

Then Naois placed Deirdre on the topmost height of his shoulder, and
told his brothers to keep up their pace, and they kept up their
pace. Naois thought that it would not be well for him to remain in
Erin on account of the way in which Connachar, King of Ulster, his
uncle's son, had gone against him because of the woman, though he
had not married her; and he turned back to Alba, that is, Scotland.
He reached the side of Loch-Ness and made his habitation there. He
could kill the salmon of the torrent from out his own door, and the
deer of the grey gorge from out his window. Naois and Deirdre and
Allen and Arden dwelt in a tower, and they were happy so long a time
as they were there.

By this time the end of the period came at which Deirdre had to
marry Connachar, King of Ulster. Connachar made up his mind to take
Deirdre away by the sword whether she was married to Naois or not.
So he prepared a great and gleeful feast. He sent word far and wide
through Erin all to his kinspeople to come to the feast. Connachar
thought to himself that Naois would not come though he should bid
him; and the scheme that arose in his mind was to send for his
father's brother, Ferchar Mac Ro, and to send him on an embassy to
Naois. He did so; and Connachar said to Ferchar, "Tell Naois, son of
Uisnech, that I am setting forth a great and gleeful feast to my
friends and kinspeople throughout the wide extent of Erin all, and
that I shall not have rest by day nor sleep by night if he and Allen
and Arden be not partakers of the feast."

Ferchar Mac Ro and his three sons went on their journey, and reached
the tower where Naois was dwelling by the side of Loch Etive. The
sons of Uisnech gave a cordial kindly welcome to Ferchar Mac Ro and
his three sons, and asked of him the news of Erin. "The best news
that I have for you," said the hardy hero, "is that Connachar, King
of Ulster, is setting forth a great sumptuous feast to his friends
and kinspeople throughout the wide extent of Erin all, and he has
vowed by the earth beneath him, by the high heaven above him, and by
the sun that wends to the west, that he will have no rest by day nor
sleep by night if the sons of Uisnech, the sons of his own father's
brother, will not come back to the land of their home and the soil
of their nativity, and to the feast likewise, and he has sent us on
embassy to invite you."