Chapter XI: Book IX

The Four Great Fifths of Erin kept their camp
On cragged Drumenna yet three days and nights.
But there no tents or booths were placed for them:
No pleasant food or ale was served to them:
No music and old lays were sung to them:
They had no banqueting or mirth. For nightly,
The hour the cloudy shades of night came down,
Cucullin, from Slieve Fauhan, very near
Those hosts of Erin, with his strong cranntowl
Hurling his sling-stones ’mid their people, slew
One hundred valiant fighting-men of them
Ere came the light of rising in the morn.

Then Maev said: “These our hosts will not endure,
And will not stay, Cucullin slaying so
One hundred from us every night. And wherefore
Should terms not now be carried to him? Wherefore
Should he not be addressed from us?” “What terms
Are these?” said Al-yill. “He shall have,” said Maev,
“The milch-kine and the bond-folk, and shall stay
His dread cranntowl from the Four Fifths of Erin,
Leaving our hosts to sleep.” “Who shall go forth
To carry him the terms?” asked Al-yill. “Who,”
Maev asked him, “but Mac Roth, chief-messenger
Of messengers of Erin?” “Nay,” Mac Roth said,
“I have not the place-knowledge; and I know not
Where I shall find him.” “Ask thou then of Fergus,”
Maev answered him; “’tis likely that that knowledge
Is with great Fergus.” Fergus said to her:
“Not so, O Maev; I know not where he is;
But there is one thing I think likely, namely,
His being now ’twixt Fauhan and the sea,
Letting the winds and sun be o’er his body,
After his sleeplessness of night last night,
While he was slaying and was striking down
Your hosts, he all alone.” That thing was true
In Fergus. In that night a heavy snow
Had fallen, so that all the Fifths of Erin
Were with that snow as one white, level floor.
Then down between Glen Fauhan and the sea
Cucullin came for sunlight and for wind,
After his sleeplessness of night that night;
And there he cast from him his seven and twenty
Waxed, board-smooth laynas, which with cords and ropes
Next his white skin were wont to be tied fast,
So that his prudence might not go from him
When his war-fury should rise up. The snow
Melted for thirty feet on each side round him,
With the abundance of the heat of body
And war-glow of Cucullin; and the gillie
Could not stay very near to him because
Of the abundance of the battle-anger
And war-glow of that champion, and the ardour
Then in Cucullin, and the heat of body.
“A warrior now comes near us, O Cucullin,”
Laeg cried to him. “What warrior?” asked Cucullin.
“He is a brown-haired gillie,” Laeg replied,
“Wide-faced and beautiful. The bratt around him
Is brown, distinctive. A short copper spear
Secures that bratt; a profitable layna
Is next his skin; and he has two barnbrogues
Betwixt his two feet and the ground. He carries
In one hand a white hazel club, in one
A one-edged and tooth-hilted sword.” “O gillie,”
Cucullin said, “those are the signs, marks, badges
Of messengers. One of the messengers
Of Erin, that is there, who has come forth
To address me with a message.” In short while
Mac Roth attained that place wherein Laeg watched.
“Under what service dost thou serve, O gillie?”
Mac Roth inquired. “I serve the warrior-youth
Yonder, above,” said Laeg. Mac Roth came up
Into that place wherein Cucullin was.
“Under what service dost thou serve, O warrior?”
Mac Roth inquired. “I serve,” Cucullin said,
“Conor the son of Fahtna Fahee son
Of Ross the Red-haired son of Rury More.”
“Hast thou no nearer, more immediate service?”
Mac Roth made question. “That,” replied Cucullin,
“Suffices now, this hour.” “Couldst thou inform me,”
Mac Roth went on, “in what place I might find
That famed Cucullin, about whom the hosts
Of Erin let from them an outcry, now
Upon this hosting?” “What is to be said
To him,” Cucullin answered, “may be said
To me.” “I come,” Mac Roth said, “to address him
From Al-yill and from Maev. I carry to him
Their terms and war-conditions.” “What conditions
Carryest thou?” Cucullin asked of him.
“He shall be given,” Mac Roth replied to him,
“The milch-kine and the bond-folk, and shall stay
His dread cranntowl from the Four Fifths of Erin,
Leaving the hosts to sleep. Not mild or gentle
That thunder-shower feat is, which he pours
Upon them each long night.” Cucullin said:
“E’en were Cucullin here to hear these terms,
He would not take them. For the men of Ulster,
Being incited and attacked with satire,
And hot, cheek-reddening insult and invective,
Would slay their milch-kine to redeem their honour,
If they possessed no dry kine; and, moreover,
They would take up to them their bondwomen
On to their beds, and would beget a folk
Who would be bond-folk through their mothers.”
Straight
Mac Roth returned. “Didst thou not find that youth?”
Maev asked of him. “I found,” Mac Roth replied,
“An awe-inspiring, angry, glowing youth
Between Glen Fauhan and the sea. I know not
Whether he was Cucullin.” “Took he from thee
The terms we sent?” “Nay, truly,” said Mac Roth;
And he related to them then the reasons
Why the terms were not taken. Fergus said:
“’Tis he, indeed, with whom thou wast conferring.”
“Let other terms be borne to him,” said Maev.
“What terms?” asked Al-yill. “He shall have,” said Maev,
“The dry kine and the free folk, and shall stay
His dread cranntowl from the Four Fifths of Erin,
Leaving our hosts to sleep. Not mild or gentle
That thunder-shower feat is which he works
Upon them each dark night.” “Who shall go forth
To carry him the terms?” asked Al-yill. “Who,”
Maev asked him, “but Mac Roth?” “Yea, I will go,”
Mac Roth said; “this time I have the place-knowledge.”
Mac Roth went forth then to address Cucullin.
“’Tis to address thyself that I have come
This time,” he said, “because this time I know
Thou art thyself that greatly-famed Cucullin.”
“What hast thou brought?” Cucullin asked of him.
“Thou shalt be given,” Mac Roth replied to him,
“The dry kine and the free folk, and shalt stay
Thy dread cranntowl from the Four Fifths of Erin,
Leaving the hosts to sleep. Not mild or gentle
That thunder-shower feat is, which thou pourest
Upon them each dark night.” Cucullin said:
“I will not take the terms. The men of Ulster
Will slay their dry kine to redeem their honour,
For they are generous; and they will be
Without dry kine or milch-kine. And, moreover,
They to the querns and kneading-troughs will put
Their free women, unto slave services
And into bond-work. ’Tis not good with me
To leave that plight in Ulster after me—
Bond-maids and serf-women being so made
Of daughters of the kings and chiefs of Ulster.”
“Exist there, then, terms that thou wilt accept
On this occasion?” “There exist such terms.”
“Tell me thy terms,” Mac Roth said. “By my word,”
Cucullin said, “’tis not I who will tell them.”
“What then?” Mac Roth said. “If,” Cucullin answered,
“There be amidst your doon one who can tell
The terms I have, let him recount them to you;
And if there be not, let there be no sending
To address me any more with messages
Of terms and war-conditions. For whoe’er
He be who comes, his life shall here have ending.”
Mac Roth went back. “Didst thou not find him then?”
Maev asked of him. “I found him,” said Mac Roth.
“Took he the terms?” said Maev. “He took them not,”
Mac Roth replied. “Exist there terms,” said Maev,
“Which he will take?” “He has terms,” said Mac Roth.
“Related he the terms?” said Maev. “This, truly,”
Mac Roth said, “was his word: not he himself
Will tell the terms to you.” “What then?” said Maev.
“If,” said Mac Roth, “amidst ourselves there be
One who can tell his terms, let him relate them.
And if there be not, let there be no sending
To address him any more with messages
Of terms and war-conditions. And one thing
I here aver,” Mac Roth said, “though it be
To carry him the sovereignty of Erin,
It is not I who will go forth to him
To find from him my death and final ending.”
Then it was, truly, that Maev looked on Fergus.
“What are these terms which that one asks of us,
O Fergus?” Maev said. “I perceive no good,
Even the least good, for you from his terms,”
Fergus replied. “What are these terms?” said Maev.
“A man,” said Fergus, “of the men of Erin
Each day to meet him on a ford in combat;
And, for such time as he shall be at slaying
That man, to let the hosts move freely forth;
But, when the man is slain, an obligation
To be upon the hosts, with their great prey,
To bide within their doon and strong encampment
Till hour of rising next day in the morn.”
“This is our conscience,” Al-yill said, “these terms
Are slight and easy.” “What he asks is good,”
Maev said to them. “He asks these terms,” said Fergus,
“That so he may detain you here and hold you,
With all your captives and great prey of kine,
Until the Ultonians rise from their long Kesh,
And muster all their hosts, and journey south,
And grind you to the sand and earth and gravel.
And it is wonderful to me,” said Fergus,
“Their being so long at rising from that Kesh.”
“We take the terms,” said Maev. “We deem it lighter
Daily to lose from us one man than nightly
To lose from us one hundred. And, moreover,
There will be one amongst our battle-champions
And battle-chiefs, who, meeting in a combat
That slight, unbearded youth, will by his strength
O’erthrow him, and so clear us of this strait.”
“Who,” Al-yill said, “shall go to bear these terms,
And to relate them to Cucullin?” “Who,”
Maev asked of him, “but Fergus?” “Nay,” said Fergus,
“Not so. I will not go till there is given
A contract, with securities and sureties
And warranties enough to bind you fast
To keep the terms, and to bind him fast, too,
To keep the terms.” “We accept that,” said Maev.
And with strong pledges Fergus bound them down.
His steeds were caught for Fergus, and his chariot
Made ready; whereupon for Edarcool,
A tender youth of Maev’s and Al-yill’s folk,
A son of Feda and of Leth´-rĭny,
His own two steeds were caught. “Whither,” said Fergus,
“Wilt thou fare forth?” “I will fare forth with thee,”
Said Edarcool, “to look upon the shape
And figure of Cucullin.” Fergus said:
“There is no wish with me that thou shouldst go,
Albeit I hate thee not; but I am loth
That thou and he should meet. Thou art a lad,
Brisk, lively, gay, insolent, arrogant,
Pert, overweening; and that other lad
Is angerful, hot, ardent. And I think
Some cause of anger will arise between you
Before ye part.” “Canst thou, then, not protect me?”
Asked Edarcool. “I can, indeed,” said Fergus,
“Provided only that thou showest him
No scorning and no disesteem.” They rode
In their war-chariots then upon their way
To reach that place wherein Cucullin was.
Between Glen Fauhan and the sea Cucullin
With his own charioteer, even with Laeg,
Was playing at boo-an-bac. And not a thing
Could pass there unperceived by Laeg, so true
His watching was; and still each second game
He won from his young lord, Cucullin. “Cucuc,”
Said Laeg, “here comes a chariot-rider towards us.”
“Describe him, then, good Laeg,” Cucullin said;
And Laeg described him thus:
“Larger,” said he,
“Than is some heathy knoll, rising alone
From out a grassy level, seems to me
His noble chariot. Larger than the tree,
Reverenced and old, that stands upon the green
Of some king’s doon, appears to me the hair
That curls and waves in golden bright abundance
About that warrior’s head. A crimson fooan,
Fringed and embroidered, folds him round: a spike
Of graven gold secures it. In his hand
He holds a wide, red-flaming spear. A shield,
Carven, and compassed by a ridge of gold,
He has; and a long sword-sheath, which for size
Is like the rudder of some kingly vessel,
Reposes on the huge and seated thighs
Of that great, haughty warrior, planted there
’Midst of his chariot.”
Then Cucullin cried:
“Oh, welcome, ever welcome is the coming
Of that belovéd guest! I know that guest.
It is my guardian and my fosterer,
My gentle, noble Fergus, who comes there.
But, my good Laeg, as for the long, great sword,
Great like the rudder of some kingly vessel,
I have been told that ’tis a sword of wood,
Which now fills up that sword-sheath of our Fergus.”
“I see,” said Laeg, “a second chariot-rider
Approaching us. To him it seems to be
Sufficiency of joy and entertainment
Merely to watch the prancing of his steeds,
And the swift course they make across the land.”
“That rider,” said Cucullin, “is some youth
Amongst the men of Erin who comes hither
To spy upon my shape, and scrutinize
Each form and feature. For—thou knowest it well—
I am much spoken of and talked about
Amongst those lads beyond there, in their doon.”
Fergus arrived, and leapt from out his chariot.
“Speak,” said he, “art thou true and trusty towards me?”
“Trusty and true I am,” Cucullin said,
“O dear and welcome, ever-welcome guest!
If a bird-flock shall come unto this plain,
A wild-goose thou shalt have, with half another;
If fish shall come into these river-invers,
A salmon thou shalt have, with half another;
And thou shalt have a drink from the sand-pools,
And have thy fistful of green river-cress,
Thy fistful of sweet sea-weed and sea-herbs;
And if necessity be laid on thee
To fight a combat, I myself will go
To meet thy foeman at the danger-ford;
And Laeg shall stay to watch and guard thee here,
While thou dost take thy deep repose and sleep.”
“Well do I know, belovéd fosterling,”
Said Fergus, “how it stands with thee, and how
These means are all the best thou canst command
For entertainment of a welcome guest
Now on this Táin. But I have come this time
To bring a message from the men of Erin.
They offer single combat. I have come
To bind thee thereunto. Accept it, thou.”
“I bind myself to that, my master Fergus,”
Cucullin answered. And no longer time
Their talk continued, lest the men of Erin
Should say that Fergus had deceived, betrayed,
And left them, for his fosterling and pupil.
For Fergus then his chariot was prepared,
And he rode back; but Edarcool remained
Nigh to that much-famed lad, who there alone
Defended Ulster; and he stared upon
Each form and feature of that other lad,
For a long while and a great space of time.
Cucullin said: “What little animal
Art thou observing with great care, O gillie?”
“Thyself,” said Edarcool. Cucullin said:
“The eye could swiftly make a circuit o’er it.”
“That is what I observe,” said Edarcool;
“Thou art not large. I know not anything
For which thou needst be feared. I see in thee
No overwhelming of a host, or cause
For hate and horror and great dread. A shapely,
Fair youth, thou art, I own it. Thou hast feats
Sightly and various; but for counting thee
Where fighters, warriors, and great battle-champions
Might be—it is most true we should not count thee.”
“I will not slay thee,” said Cucullin, “knowing
The safeguard under which thou camest hither,
Namely, the safeguard of my master, Fergus.
I swear by all the gods of my own folk,
Howbeit, that if ’twere not for that safeguard,
It would now be thy cloven, scattered quarters
Which would return from me to yon great camp
Behind thy chariot-wheels.” “Provoke me not,”
Said Edarcool, “and—for this wondrous contract,
Which has been bound by Fergus on the hosts
And on thyself, namely, a one-man combat—
It will be I who, of the men of Erin,
Will be the first to come to thee to-morrow.”
Edarcool straight turned back. He took to talking
Then to his charioteer. “Gillie,” said he,
“An obligation is upon me truly
To meet Cucullin at the ford to-morrow.”
“Truly thou didst so vow,” the gillie said.
“Howbeit, I know not that the thing so vowed
Will be accomplished.” “Which thing were the better,”
Said Edarcool, “to do the deed to-morrow,
Or now, to-night, to do it?” “’Tis our conscience,
Better to miss a victory to-morrow,”
The gillie said, “than to win death to-night.”
“Nay, turn the chariot round again, O gillie,”
The lad said. “By the gods of my own folk,
I swear that never till the Breast of Doom
Will I again return unto the camp,
Until I take the head from yonder lad,
And show Cucullin’s head.” The charioteer
Then turned the chariot once again, and turned
Its left side towards the ford. Laeg saw that thing.
“Cucuc,” said Leag, “there is the chariot-rider
Who was here last.” “What of that, O my gillie?”
Cucullin said. “His left board,” said the gillie,
“Is now turned towards us, as he nears the ford.”
“O gillie, that is Edarcool, who seeks
A combat from me now,” Cucullin said;
“And ’tis not well with me to slay him, knowing
The safeguard under which he travelled hither,
Namely, the safeguard of my master, Fergus;
But there is on me, verily, no bond
Or obligation to reject fair combat.
Carry my weapons to the ford. Unworthy
I should esteem myself, were he to be
Down at yon ford before me.” And Cucullin
Went to the stream, and straightway bared his sword
Above his curved bright shoulder; and was ready,
So, on the ford for the other lad to come.
Then Edarcool arrived. “What dost thou ask,
O gillie?” said Cucullin. He replied:
“Combat with thee is what I ask and wish for;
And thou art bound to grant it manfully.”
Cucullin made a sod-stroke at the sod
Which was beneath the feet of the other lad,
Slicing the sod; and the lad fell supine,
The sod being on his upturned breast. “Go now,”
Cucullin said, “for I have given thee warning.”
“I will not go from thee,” said Edarcool,
“Till I have reached thee.” Whereupon, Cucullin
Made with his sword an edge-blow, shaving swiftly
The hair of that other lad from nape to brow,
From ear to ear,—as though with a light razor
It was he shaved,—drawing no drop of blood.
“Go now,” he said, “Thou hast a two-fold warning.
And I have made of thee a cause of laughter.”
“I will not go from thee,” said Edarcool,
“Till I have reached thee.” At which words Cucullin
Struck at the armpits of the other lad,
With his sword lightly; and the raiment fell
From Edarcool; and his skin was not reddened.
“Go now,” Cucullin said, “for I have given
A proof of power.” The other lad replied:
“I will not go, till I have taken thy head
And trophies; or till thou hast taken my head
And trophies.” “’Tis this last,” Cucullin said,
“To wit, that I shall take thy head and trophies,
Which shall be brought to pass.” Whereat Cucullin
Made with his sword a crown-stroke from the crown
Of Edarcool e’en to his navel; and made,
Swift upon that, a cross-stroke through his navel,
So that the three disjointed parts of him
Fell to the earth in the one point of time.
That was the downfall, then of Edarcool,
A son of Feda and of Leth´-rĭny,
A tender youth of Maev’s and Al-yill’s folk.

Now of that combat naught was known to Fergus.
And that was natural for him; since Fergus
Never for aught looked rearwards o’er his back,
At sitting, or at rising, or on travels,
Or at departing, or in fights and strivings
And battles—that thus no one e’er could say,
That he in fear gazed rearwards o’er his back.
The charioteer of Edarcool ere long
Came up with him. “Where is thy lord, thou gillie?”
Cried Fergus. “He has fallen,” said the servant,
“Slain by Cucullin in the ford.” Full wrath,
Swift, fire-fleet, sudden, leaped in Fergus then.
“It was not fitting, truly,” he cried out,
“In that unearthly sprite so to insult
And wound me with regard to one who came
Beneath my safeguard and protection. Turn
The chariot for us, gillie,” Fergus said.
“I will turn back now to address Cucullin.”
The gillie turned the chariot; and they fared
Back toward the ford, and saw Cucullin there.
“What caused thee, thou uncouth, unearthly sprite,”
Fergus cried out to him, “so to insult
And wound me with regard to one who came
Beneath my safeguard and protection?” Then,
Cucullin fell down kneeling before Fergus;
And Fergus, in his anger and hot wrath,
Rode three times in his chariot past him. Kneeling
And bowed, Cucullin cried: “My master, Fergus,
By the good fosterage which thou didst give me,
Say which would seem to thee the better, namely,
I to take his life and his spoils, or he
To take my life and my spoils? Furthermore,
Ask his own gillie which one of us two
Was sinful in what happened.” Fergus said,
Looking upon the lad, his fosterling:
“That which has happened seems the best to me.”
Then Fergus tied a withy round the feet
Of Edarcool, and round his cloven neck;
And dragged him o’er the ground behind the steeds
And chariot-wheels; and where the ground was rough,
The cloven fragments parted round the juts
And points of rock; and where the ground was smooth,
They met again. And Fergus trailed them thus
Across the sloping camp, up to the tent
Of Al-yill and of Maev, and called aloud:
“Here is your tender youth for you, and here
The message that ye sent him out to bring!”
And Maev came forth, and stood without the door
Of her own tent; and there she lifted up
Her voice of lamentation; and she said:
“It seemed to us that this young hound was full
Of life and ardour when he left the camp;
And now, it seems to us, he did not leave it
Beneath a true man’s safeguard when he left it
Guarded by Fergus.”
From great Fergus then
Broke forth his chuckle of laughter. “How,” said he,
“Should this mere whelp, this woman’s lap-dog, dare
To approach that slaughter-hound, whom now the Four
Great Fifths of Erin will not dare to pass,
Or move beyond, to reach their native homes?
Yea, I myself might deem it fortunate
To escape thus safe and whole from out his hands.”
For Edarcool his grave-mound then was made:
His stone was set: his name was writ in ogam:
His funeral-cry was wailed above him there.
That night Cucullin stayed his famed cranntowl;
And o’er the weary hosts came welcome sleep.

BOOK X