THE WEIRD HORSES
“On the brink of the night and the morning
My coursers are wont to respire,
But the earth has just whispered a warning,
That their flight must be swifter than fire,
They shall breathe the hot air of desire.”
SHELLEY.
One night when the stars shone brightly, Setanta, as he passed by
Cathvah’s astrological tower, heard him declare to his students that
whoever should be knighted by Concobar on a certain day would be famous
to the world’s end. He was in his coming out of the forest then with
a bundle of young ash trees under his arm. He thought to put them to
season and therewith make slings, for truly he surpassed all others in
the use of the sling. Setanta went his way after that and came into the
speckled house. It was the armoury of the Red Branch and shone with all
manner of war-furniture. A fire burned here always, absorbing the damp
of the air lest the metal should take rust. Setanta flung his trees into
the rafters over the fire very deftly, so that they caught and remained
there. He said they would season best in that place.
As he turned to go a man stood before him in the vast and hollow
chamber.
“I know thee,” said the boy. “What wouldst thou now?”
“Thou shalt go forth to-night,” said the man, [Footnote: This man was
Lu the Long-Handed, the same who met him when he was leaving home.] “and
take captive the Liath Macha and Black Shanghlan. Power will be given to
thee. Go out boldly.”
“I am not wont to go out fearfully,” answered the lad. “Great labours
are thrust upon me.”
He went into the supper hall as at other times and took his customary
place there, and ate and drank.
“Thy eyes are very bright,” said Laeg.
“They will be brighter ere the day,” he replied.
“That is an expert juggler,” said Laeg. “How he tosseth the bright
balls!”
“Can he toss the stars so?” said Setanta.
“Thou art strange and wild to-night,” said Laeg.
“I will be stranger and wilder ere the morrow,” cried Setanta.
He stood up to go. Laeg caught him by the skirt of his mantle. The piece
came away in his hand.
“Whither art thou going, Setanta?” cried the King from the other end of
the vast hall.
“To seek my horses,” cried the lad. His voice rang round the hollow
dome and down the resounding galleries and long corridors, so that men
started in their seats and looked towards him.
“They are stabled since the setting of the sun,” said the chief groom.
“Thou liest,” answered the boy. “They are in the hills and valleys of
Erin.” His eyes burned like fire and his stature was exalted before
their eyes.
“Great deeds will be done in Erin this night,” said Concobar.
He went forth into the night. There was great power upon him. He crossed
the Plain of the Hurlings and the Plain of the Assemblies and the open
country and the great waste moor, going on to Dun-Culain. Culain’s new
hound cowered low when he saw him. The boy sprang over moat and rampart
at one bound and burst open the doors of the smith’s house, breaking the
bar. The noise of the riven beam was like the brattling of thunder.
“That is an unusual way to enter a man’s house,” said Culain. He and his
people were at supper.
“It is,” said Setanta. “Things more unusual will happen this night. Give
me bridles that will hold the strongest horses.” Culain gave him two
bridles.
“Will they hold the strongest horses?” said the boy.
“Anything less than the Liath Macha they will hold,” said the smith.
The boy snapped the bridles and flung them aside. “I want bridles that
will hold the Liath Macha and Black Shanglan,” said he.
“Fire all the furnaces,” cried Culain. “Handle your tools; show your
might. Work now, men, for your lives. Verily, if he get not the bridles,
soon your dead will be more numerous than your living.”
Culain and his people made the bridles. He gave them to Cuculain. The
smiths stood around in pallid groups. Cuculain took the bridles and
went forth. He went south-westwards to Slieve Fuad, and came to the Grey
Lake. The moon shone and the lake glowed like silver. There was a great
horse feeding by the lake. He raised his head and neighed when he heard
footsteps on the hill. He came on against Cuculain and Cuculain went
on against him. The boy had one bridle knotted round his waist and
the other in his teeth. He leaped upon the steed and caught him by the
forelock and his mouth. The horse reared mightily, but Setanta held him
and dragged his head down to the ground. The grey steed grew greater and
more terrible. So did Cuculain.
“Thou hast met thy master, O Liath Macha, this night,” he cried. “Surely
I will not lose thee. Ascend into the heavens, or, breaking the earth’s
roof, descend to Orchil, [Footnote: A great sorceress who ruled the
world under the earth.] yet even so thou wilt not shake me away.”
Ireland quaked from the centre to the sea. They reeled together, steed
and hero, through the plains of Murthemney. “Make the circuit of Ireland
Liath Macha and I shall be on the neck of thee,” cried Cuculain. The
horse went in reeling circles round Ireland. Cuculain mightily thust the
bit into his mouth and made fast the headstall. The Liath Macha went a
second time round Ireland. The sea retreated from the shore and stood in
heaps. Cuculain sprang upon his back. A third time the horse went round
Ireland, bounding from peak to peak. They seemed a resplendent Fomorian
phantom against the stars. The horse came to a stand. “I think thou art
tamed, O Liath Macha,” said Cuculain. “Go on now to the Dark Valley.”
They came to the Dark Valley. There was night there always. Shapes of
Death and Horror, Fomorian apparitions, guarded the entrance. They came
against Cuculain, and he went against them. A voice from within cried,
“Forbear, this is the promised one. Your watching and warding are at
end.” He rode into the Dark Valley. There was a roaring of unseen rivers
in the darkness, of black cataracts rushing down the steep sides of the
Valley. The Liath Macha neighed loudly. The neigh reverberated through
the long Valley. A horse neighed joyfully in response. There was a
noise of iron doors rushing open somewhere, and a four-footed thunderous
trampling on the hollow-sounding earth. A steed came to the Liath Macha.
Cuculain felt for his head in the dark, and bitted and bridled him ere
he was aware. The horse reared and struggled. The Liath Macha dragged
him down the Valley. “Struggle not, Black Shanglan,” said Cuculain, “I
have tamed thy better.” The horse ceased to struggle. Down and out of
the Dark Valley rodest thou, O peerless one, with thy horses. The Liath
Macha was grey to whiteness, the other horse was black and glistening
like the bright mail of the chaffer. He rode thence to Emain Macha with
the two horses like a lord of Day and Night, and of Life and Death.
Truly the might and power of the Long-Handed and Far-Shooting one was
upon him that night. He came to Emain Macha. The doors of Macha’s
stable flew open before him. He rode the horses into the stable. Macha’s
war-car brayed forth a brazen roar of welcome, the Tuatha De Danan
shouted, and the car itself glowed and sparkled. The horses went to
their ancient stalls, the Liath Macha to that which was nearer to the
door. Cuculain took off their bridles and hanged them on the wall. He
went forth into the night. The horses were already eating their barley,
but they looked after him as he went. The doors shut to with a brazen
clash. Cuculain stood alone in the great court under the stars. A
druidic storm was abroad and howled in the forests. He thought all that
had taken place a wild dream. He went to his dormitory and to his couch.
Laeg was asleep with the starlight shining on his white forehead; his
red hair was shed over the pillow. Cuculain kissed him, and sitting on
the bed’s edge wept. Laeg awoke.
“Thou wert not well at supper,” said Laeg, “and now thou hast been
wandering in the damp of the night, and thou with a fever upon thee, for
I hear thy teeth clattering. I sought to hinder thee, and thou wouldst
not be persuaded. Verily, if thou wilt not again obey me, being thy
senior, thou shalt have sore bones at my hands. Undress thyself now and
come to bed without delay.”
Cuculain did so.
“Thou art as cold as ice,” said Laeg.
“Nay, I am hotter than fire,” said Cuculain.
“Thou art ice, I say,” said Laeg, “and thy teeth are clattering like
hailstones on a brazen shield. Ay, and thine eyes shine terribly.”
Laeg started from the couch. He struck flintsparks upon a rag steeped in
nitre, and waved it to a flame, and kindled a lanthorn. He flung his
own mantle upon the bed and went forth in his shirt. The storm raged
terribly; the stars were dancing in high heaven. He came to the house of
the Chief Leech and beat at the door. The Leech was not in bed. All
the wise men of Emain Macha were awake that night, listening to the
portents.
“Setanta, son of Sualtam, is sick,” said Laeg.
“What are his symptoms?” said the Leech.
“He is colder than ice, his eyes shine terribly, and his teeth clatter,
but he says that he is hotter than fire.”
The Leech went to Cuculain. “This is not a work for me,” he said, “but
for a seer. Bring hither Cathvah and his Druids.” Cathvah and and his
seers came. They made their symbols of power over the youth and chanted
their incantations and Druid songs. After that Cuculain slept. He slept
for three days and three nights. There was a great stillness while
the boy slept, for it was not lawful at any time for anyone to awake
Cuculain when he slumbered.
On the third morning Cuculain awoke. The bright morning sunshine was
all around, and the birds sang in Emain Macha. He called for Laeg with a
loud voice and bade him order a division of the boys to get ready their
horses and chariots for charioteering exercise and fighting out of their
cars.