The Legends (10 page)

Lugh of the Long Hand, great god of light hear me.
Great king and your welcoming long hand listen to me.
Great lord, whose royal blood flows in your faithful
servant, heed me.

Cathbad was silent for a moment as his head dropped but his arms remained stiff and strong. He closed his eyes as if expecting a painful blow and then a shudder seemed to pass through his entire body while the wind and the rain beat down even harder. To the witnesses behind him, the great druid appeared as a ghostly shadow, apparent only when lightening illuminated the horizon. Once again he called out.

Lugh of the Long Hand, do not be angry with your
servant
I am merely a messenger seeking your indulgence
Your grandson by the mighty cúchulainn seeks your
protection
Welcome him great god, welcome him.

For several moments the rain and the wind lessened as if the gods were considering Cathbad’s plea. For his part, Cathbad remained erect his fists outstretched to the heavens and his face welcoming the cold rain as it poured down from the sky. Most of the witnesses cowered behind the line of druids apparently concerned that they might suffer the anger of the gods against those who dared venture onto sacred ground. Others, particularly the elderly witnesses, with Mairéad at the front, watched fearlessly with solemn interest, fully prepared to accept the will of the gods.

After a few minutes a great sheet of lightening illuminated the northern sky casting strange shadows on the hawthorn grove. The lightning was followed shortly thereafter by a roar of thunder that shook the earth. Even the bravest of the lesser druids and witnesses cowered at this demonstration of divine power. A second and a third sheet of lighting repeated the process and when the thunder roared once again, Cathbad was thrown face down on the ground, his hands still outstretched as if reaching for the bundle holding the child a few feet beyond his finger tips. Seeing Cathbad so violently flung to the earth, the witnesses also threw themselves on the ground hoping that they might be spared a similar fate. Mairéad alone stood strong, her face raised to the beating rain, a smile on her lips.

For several minutes the rest of the gathering clung to the safety of the earth, hoping perhaps that if they were one with the mud and the dirt, the gods might not notice them and they would be spared. Above them the wind and the rain continued to howl. But then, the storm suddenly broke. In a matter of seconds, the rain stopped falling, the wind stopped blowing and the blanket of heavy cloud disappeared to the east. As the timid witnesses peaked up they were amazed to see a clear night sky full of stars.

The lesser druids, champions and witnesses slowly rose to their feet, brushing off the grass and mud that clung to their cloaks. They quickly noticed that Cathbad remained prone on the ground and it was clear that whether by the hand of the gods or the force of his fall, he had been knocked unconscious. The group gathered around the great druid, concerned for his welfare but at the same time relieved that they emerged unscathed. Two of the druids moved forward to render assistance their fallen chief.

Just as they reached his side, one druid was distracted by a movement near the suterrain and looking up he exclaimed, “The cloak!”

The attention of the entire group was redirected toward Cathbad’s animal skin outer cloak which once covered the granite crib and chest of treasures. It lay where it had been placed and a gentle breeze moved the corner of the garment. Without question something lay under the cloak as it was not flat on the ground but was draped over two objects. While two druids continued to administer to Cathbad, the remaining druids cautiously approached the garment. The champions and witnesses moved forward behind the protection of the druid line each looking over or around those in front so as not to miss whatever lay beneath the cloak.

No one breathed as one of the druids reached down to retrieve Cathbad’s cloak. As he pulled it aside, a collective sigh escaped from many of those gathered behind the druids. The cloak was fully removed disclosing the objects it covered, two great lumps of rock.

The shocked silence of the discovery was soon replaced by amazed pronouncements and in seconds everyone began speaking at once. The conclusion was universally accepted. Undoubtedly Lugh of the Long Hand had taken custody of his grandson, Ferdia son of Cúchulainn and the treasures of the infant’s inheritance.

As the impact of their discovery became clear, a silence again descended on the group and their attention was redirected to the unconscious form of Cathbad the Druid. One of the lesser druids propped him up; sitting Cathbad against a stone while another prevented his head from lolling to one side or the other. An older woman, skilled in the healing arts examined his head and determined that he was alive but had undoubtedly been knocked unconscious by a blow to the head. She directed that a wet cloth be applied to his forehead and she began to mix a potion from the bag of herbs tied at her waist.

When she finished preparing the concoction, she mixed it with water and forced some of the mixture into the old druid’s mouth. The remainder was held under his nose. Either the vile taste or the vile smell had the desired effect because almost immediately, Cathbad spat out the liquid and moved his head from side to side to escape the odor.

In time, the druid blinked, opened his eyes and slowly regained full consciousness. He looked around at the group and quietly spoke. “I have seen Lugh of the Long Hand. He has taken his grandson and discharged us from our duty to the child. He has promised that the child will be placed in good hands and treated in a manner appropriate to his station. Ferdia will be protected for as long as his safety is threatened by those who would seek to do him harm and for as long as he is unable to protect himself. It is finished.”

With great effort, the old druid was assisted to his feet and was draped with the skin that had once covered Ferdia and the treasures. The remainder of the group quietly gathered their belongings and prepared to return to Emain Macha. After the initial shock of witnessing such an amazing event, it seemed that each person retreated into the silence of his or her own thoughts. All that remained was the musical night sounds of a peaceful spring evening.

A moment later, however, the stillness of the evening was broken by the grasp of one of the women witnesses. “Mairéad!” she exclaimed.

All eyes turned to the form of the old woman who slowly sat in the wet grass and then fell on her side before finally lying on her back. Cathbad and the woman who had treated him, rushed over to her side. As they knelt beside Mairéad, she closed her eyes and a smile lit her face.

“Old Sister,” he said, obviously distressed. “Can you hear me?”

Mairéad’s eyes fluttered and opened slightly. “Yes my brother, I can hear you. You are speaking loud enough to wake the dead.”

The remark brought smiles to the faces of the entire group and Cathbad pressed on, “Mairéad, have you hurt yourself? Are you in pain?”

The old woman continued to smile as she replied, “No, I am not in pain. It is just that my light is growing dim and I am being called from this life.”

Cathbad put his hand on the old woman’s cheek and with tears running down his own face said, “I am sorry I agreed to your joining this journey. Certainly it was too much for you. What have I done?”

“Hush, my friend,” Mairéad gasped. “This was my destiny and this is the only way my life on this earth could have ended. I knew when I held that child for the first time that our destinies were bound to each other and so it is proper that we depart this world together. I have no fear of the next world; perhaps I will see Ferdia again. Know this, my brother, I am at peace.”

With that Mairéad closed her eyes for the last time.

In a blink of young Ferdia’s eyes, the granite crib and chest of treasures were transported to the land of the Tuatha Dé Danann far beneath the surface of the earth. They settled on a table in the middle of a great field where scores of people gathered. A moment later, the cloth covering the crib was drawn back and child found himself staring into at least six pairs of amazed eyes leaning over his bed. After taking in the scene, Ferdia smiled and let out a gurgle of delight. This broke the silence of the moment and everyone began to smile and laugh.

One pair of eyes remained fixed on the child and a moment later Ferdia found himself being lifted into the air by a tall and powerful man. The stranger had two long blonde moustaches flowing from each side of his upper lip and down over his mouth to where they joined his beard which was groomed well down onto his chest. The man’s nose was long and pointed, his eyes, not unlike Ferdia’s own, were large and blue and he was dressed in a purple robe trimmed with gold.

“This child my friends,” announced a smiling Lugh of the Long Hand, “is my grandson!”

As so it was that Ferdia, Son of Cúchulainn and Grandson of Lugh of the Long Hand came to reside with the Tuatha Dé Danann. These people of the goddess Dana were a cultured and highly civilized race. They were extraordinarily skilled in all measure of arts and crafts specifically including magic and the black arts. So great was their power that subsequent races and peoples who inhabited the earth’s surface regarded them as gods and goddesses.

The Tuatha Dé Danann conquered Ireland well over a thousand years before the birth of Christ. Unlike other conquerors, the Tuatha Dé Danann did not sail to the coast of the country, armed and ready for battle. Rather they arrived in what seemed to be a dark cloud sailing through the air and they landed on a mountain in Connemara. When they blacked out the sun for three days the Firbolgs, who controlled the country at that time had no choice but to fight. A great and famous battle determined the fate of the Firbolgs who fought bravely for four days but in the end, were no match for the magic and skills of the Dé Danann. The Tuatha Dé Danann ruled Ireland for many decades controlling lesser mortals with their amazing power. However, they also shared some of their secret crafts, including the ability to refine metals like bronze and gold, and they introduced science and poetry to the people they ruled.

The Tuatha Dé Danann were regarded as kindly and beneficent rulers and some of the people of Dana even married or had children by lesser mortals. This practice caused a great deal of debate among the elders of the Dé Danann and it ultimately led to the end of their rule in Ireland. These elders were justifiably concerned that if the people intermarried with lesser mortals all of their secrets would be disclosed and they would lose their identity. As a result they would have no power over subsequent invaders.

In time other races, including the Milesians, threatened to conquer Ireland and the Tuatha Dé Danann made a remarkable decision. After a great conference at which everyone had an opportunity to be heard, the majority of the Dé Danann’s adult population decided to withdraw from the human race and create their own world deep under the crust of the earth. This move would ensure that the Dé Danann blood would remain pure and that the secrets of their power would not fall into the hands of people who might misuse these gifts.

A large number of the Dé Danann chose not to withdraw from the surface of the earth and so remained behind. Some had established relationships with other peoples and did not want to leave their husbands, wives or children behind. Others with children believed that regardless of their probable status as a conquered people and no longer the ruling class, the best interests of their children lay in the sunshine and fresh air of the Irish countryside. Still others had grown to accept the cycle of life as is unfolded on the earth’s surface and were content with birth, life, aging and death.

When the Milesians ultimately invaded Ireland, the Tuatha Dé Danann who remained above on the surface of the earth offered only a token resistance against the invasion and were defeated. In time they mixed their blood with that of the Firbolgs, Milesians and subsequent invaders of Ireland. Thousands of years later, traces of that Dé Danann blood are still reflected in the poetic and artistic nature of the Irish people.

The Milesians, who were the forefathers of the Celtic race, conquered Ireland rather easily because the most of the Dé Danann had retreated into a world where they could perfect and practice their arts and skills in peace and security. That world has been the subject of innumerable myths and legends, which became part of the Irish tradition, and they are still discussed three thousand years later. In these Irish legends the world to which the Dé Danann descended became known as the “Land of Youth” or “Tir na nÓg,” a peaceful and beautiful place with no sickness or death where the people were always happy and time stands still. Even in modern times legends about the leprechauns or “little people” are associated with this remarkable race. In truth, the world created by the Tuatha Dé Danann was not significantly different than the one described in myths and legends.

Quite apart from building an alternative world, perhaps the greatest skill the Tuatha Dé Danann perfected was the ability to slow the passage of time almost to a standstill. A second of human time became many hours beneath the earth and an hour became years and as a result the people of Dana effectively became immortal. The population of this alternative world remained static because although few died, no one was born. The cycle of life was frozen in time and there was no sickness or death.

In the decades that followed their descent, the Dé Danann built their own world increasingly isolating themselves from the human race on the surface of the earth. Occasionally, particularly in the early days after the Milesians took control of Ireland, some of the Dé Danann, still interacted with the surface people.

The reason for this interaction was that the Dé Danann had a great deal of respect and affection for the race they had abandoned. Because of marriages while they were still above ground, many of those who lived on the surface of the earth were, in part, people of Dana and were related to those who chose the land of eternal youth. Cathbad the Druid’s remarkable skill, for example, could be traced to his royal blood. The Tuatha Dé Danann also believed that an occasional infusion of their own blood would further ensure the survival of these lesser mortals. Thus, Lugh of the Long Hand sired Cúchulainn. In time, this connection became more and more remote, particularly because generations changed so quickly on the surface of the earth. In time, the Tuatha Dé Danann rarely appeared above ground.