Flann was wakened by a gander and his flock of geese that stood round
him; shook their wings and set up their goose-gabble. It was day then,
although there was still a star in the sky. He threw furze-roots where
there was a glow, and made a fire blaze up again. Then the dogs of the
town came down to look at him, and then stole away.
Horns were blown outside, and the watchman opened the gates. Flann shook
himself and stood up to see the folk that were coming in. First came the
men who drove the mountain ponies that had lately fed with the deer
in wild places. Then came men in leathern jerkins who led wide-horned
bulls--a black bull and a white bull, and a white bull and a black bull,
one after the other. Then there were men who brought in high, swift
hounds, three to each leash they held. Women in brown cloaks carried
cages of birds. Men carried on their shoulders and in their belts tools
for working gold and silver, bronze and iron. And there were calves and
sheep, and great horses and weighty chariots, and colored cloths, and
things closed in packs that merchants carried on their shoulders.
The famous bards, and story-tellers and harpists would not come until
noon-time when the business of the fair would have abated, but with the
crowd of beggars came ballad-singers, and the tellers of the stories
that were called “Go-by-the-Market-Stake,” because they were told around
the stake in the market place and were very common.
And at the tail of the comers whom did Flann see but Mogue, the Captain
of the Robbers!
Mogue wore a hare-skin cap, his left eye protruded as usual, and he
walked limpingly. He had a pack on his back, and he led a small, swift
looking horse of a reddish color. Flann called to him as he passed and
Mogue gave a great start. He grinned when he saw it was Flann and walked
up to him.
“Mogue,” said Flann, “what are you doing in the Town of the Red Castle?”
“I’m here to sell a few things,” said Mogue, “this little horse,” said
he, “and a few things I have in my pack.”
“And where are your friends?” asked Flann. “My band, do you mean?”
said Mogue. “Sure, they all left me when you proved you were the better
robber. What are you doing here?”
“I have no business at all,” said Flann.
“By the Hazel! that’s what I like to hear you say. Join me then. You and
me would do well together.”
“I won’t join you,” said Flann.
“I’d rather have you with me than the whole of the band. What were they
anyway? Cabbage-heads!” Mogue winked with his protruding eye. “Wait till
you see me again,” said he. “I’ve the grandest things in my pack.” He
went on leading the little horse. Then Flann set out to look for the
King’s Son.
He found him at the door of the Brufir’s, and they drank bowls of milk
and ate oaten bread together, and then went to the gate of the town to
watch the notable people who were coming in.
And with the bards and harpers and Kings’ envoys who came in, the King’s
Son saw his two half-brothers, Dermott and Downal. He hailed them and
they knew him and came up to him gladly. The King’s Son made Flann known
to them, saying that he too was the son of a King.
They looked fine youths, Downal and Dermott, in their red cloaks, with
their heads held high, and a brag in their walk and their words. They
left their horses with the grooms and walked with Flann and the King’s
Son. They were tall and ruddy; the King’s Son was more brown in the
hair and more hawk-like in the face: the three were different from the
dark-haired, dark-eyed, red-lipped lad to whom the Old Woman of Beare
had given the name of Flann.
No one had seen the King who lived in the Red Castle, Dermott and Downal
told the other two. He was called the Wry-faced King, and, on account of
his disfigurement, he let no one but his Councilors see him.
“We are to go to his Castle to-day,” said Dermott and Downal. “You come
too, brother,” said he to the King’s Son.
“And you too, comrade,” said Downal to Flann. “Why should we not all go?
By Ogma! Are we not all sons of Kings?”
Flann wondered if he would see the King’s daughter, Flame-of-Wine. He
would surely go to the Castle.
They drank ale, played chess and talked until it was afternoon. Then the
grooms who were with Downal and Dermott brought the four youths new red
cloaks. They put them on and went towards the King’s Castle.
“Brother,” said Dermott to the King’s Son, “I want to tell you that we
are not going back to our father’s Castle nor to his Kingdom. We have
taken the world for our pillow. We are going to leave the grooms asleep
one fine morning, and go as the salmon goes down the river.”
“Why do you want to leave our father’s Kingdom?”
“Because we don’t want to rule nor to learn to rule. We’ll let you,
brother, do all that. We’re going to learn the trade of a sword-smith.
We would make fine swords. And with the King of Senlabor there is a
famous sword-smith, and we are going to learn the trade from him.”
The four went to the Red Castle, and they were brought in and they went
and sat on the benches to wait for the King’s Steward who would receive
them. And while they waited they watched the play of a pet fox in
the courtyard. Flann was wondering all the time if the Princess
Flame-of-Wine would pass through the court-yard or come into the hall
where they waited.
Then he saw her come up the courtyard. She saw the youths in the hall
and she turned round to watch the pet fox for a while. Then she came
into the chamber and stood near the door.
She wore a mask across her face, but her brow and mouth and chin were
shown. The youths saluted her, and she bent her head to them. One of the
women who had brought birds to the Fair followed her, bringing a cage.
Flame-of-Wine talked to this woman in a strange language.
Although she talked to the woman, Flann saw that she watched his three
companions. Him she did not notice, because the bench on which he sat
was behind the others. Flame-of-Wine looked at the King’s Son first,
and then turned her eyes from him. She bent her head to listen to what
Downal and Dermott were saying. Flann she did not look at at all, and he
became sick at heart of the Red Castle.
The King’s Steward came into the Hall and when he announced who the
youths were--three sons of the King of Ireland traveling with their
foster-brother--Flame-of-Wine went over and spoke to them. “May we see
you to-morrow, Kings’ Sons,” she said. “To-morrow is our feast of the
Gathering of Apples. It might be pleasant for you to hear music in the
King’s garden.”
She smiled on Downal and Dermott and on the King’s Son and went out of
the Chamber. The King’s Steward feasted the four youths and afterwards
made them presents. But Flann did not heed what he ate nor what he heard
said, nor what present was given him.