The Red Giant greeted them warmly. Never before had he met a man who was
stronger than he, so that made him respect Dermot; but he respected him
still more for his honesty, when he found that the hound was to be
returned to him.
“Are you on another quest, or have you rescued your chief?” asked the
giant.
“I am on a most difficult errand,” explained Dermot. “I must get the
story of the Sorrowful Knight before I may see Finn MacCool.”
The Red Giant slapped his knee a resounding whack.
“You are right,” he said. “It is difficult! It would be impossible but
for the fact that you have been fair with me. I once did a service for
the Sorrowful Knight. He swore that nothing I should ever ask him would
be refused. Tomorrow I shall go with you, and my request shall be in
your interest.”
You may be sure that Dermot was glad he had not taken a thief’s
advantage of the giant when he had had the opportunity. That night, with
the small chief, he and the Red Giant spent the time eating, drinking
and telling stories.
The journey to the land of the Sorrowful Knight, under the guidance of
the Red Giant, was a short one. They found the castle set deep in a
thick wood. No sound came from it. The branches of the trees drooped in
sadness. Even the cattle grazing in the field seemed to crop the grass
mournfully.
The guard at the gate wiped the tears from his eyes before he asked them
the nature of their errand. When he learned that they wished to see the
Sorrowful Knight, he led them through a quiet courtyard into a dark and
dismal chamber in the heart of the castle.
At first Dermot could see nothing. When his eyes became accustomed to
the darkness, he saw that the room was draped in black, and that the
furniture was the color of night. At the table in the center of the room
sat a man, his head leaning on his hand, his elbow on the table. He
appeared to be asleep, nor did he awaken when the three entered the
room. He must have been at the table a long time. Where his elbow rested
upon it, a deep groove had been worn, and into it, even in his sleep,
the tears dropped steadily.
The Red Giant took him by the shoulder and spoke to him. The man
straightened up slowly.
“Why do you come here to interrupt my grieving?” he asked.
“You promised many years ago that you would grant any request I would
make,” said the Red Giant. “I have come to test your promise.”
The Sorrowful Knight sighed heavily. “What is your request?” he asked.
“You are to tell to Dermot of the Fenians the reason for your sorrow,”
said the giant.
Once more the knight sighed, and the tears flowed more freely down his
cheeks.
“I feared your request would be that,” he said. “Since I promised you on
my honor, I must tell the story, but no other living man has heard it.”
The Sorrowful Knight had dinner served for his guests with a flickering
candle for light. Most people would have had a small appetite in such
gloomy surroundings, but Dermot and his friends were hungry enough to
forget about it. They did full justice to the meal. When each had
satisfied his hunger the knight began:
“It was twenty-one years ago that the sorrow came to me. I lived in this
castle as happily as any man of the kingdom. Anyone would have been
proud of the twelve handsome young men I called my sons. Every place I
went my boys were with me.
“On the morning of the first of May it was our custom to hunt the deer
together. Of course, we hunted on many days of the spring, but the May
day was always our first deer hunt. On the morning of which I speak we
started up a deer without horns and gave chase.
“It was a fleeter animal than any we had ever followed before. All day
long we kept after her until toward evening we saw her disappear into a
cave. We thought we had her trapped and followed swiftly. Imagine our
surprise when we found ourselves not in a cave at all, but in a new
country, at the gate of a large castle.
“The deer was nowhere in sight. We were too far from home to return that
night, so we decided to ask for shelter from the lord of the castle.
This was readily granted.
“We were taken into a big banquet hall. Along one side of the room, over
huge fires, were twelve kettles of scalding water. In front of each
kettle was the carcass of a wild boar. The master of the castle
apologized for not having supper cooked and asked if any of us could
prepare the boars for roasting. We said we could and set to work.
“But, though we dipped the animals in the scalding water, we could not
remove a single bristle. The scalding seemed to make them stick more
tightly. We could do nothing toward preparing the meat for supper.
“Then the master called in a small servant and told him to get the
animals ready. This man lined up the twelve boars, blew upon them
through a small tube, and instantly every bristle disappeared. I knew
then that we were in the land of enchantment.
“We had all that we could eat, and after the meal the lord of the castle
asked me if my sons would be willing to show their strength for our
amusement. I told him they would. He ordered in twelve small men with a
long chain and bade my sons pull it away from them. This seemed like an
easy task. But when my sons took hold of the chain they could not move
the small men an inch. Soon the small men pulled my sons toward them
with a quick jerk and threw the slackened part about the necks of my
boys. The instant the chain touched my sons they became twelve stones.”
At this point the tears of the Sorrowful Knight stopped his words. His
listeners had to wait until he had mastered his grief before he could go
on.
“When I saw my twelve noble sons thus changed before my eyes, I was
filled with the great grief which has never left me. The lord of the
castle had me thrown out into the night, and it was with difficulty that
I found my way back to my home. Since then I never have left my castle.
“Each year, on May day, the deer comes to the gate and calls, ‘Here is
the deer, but where are the hunters to follow it?’ Tomorrow she will
come again, but no one here has heart for the chase.
“That, then, is my story. I ask you if any man could be happy with such
a sorrow in his life?”
Dermot had listened with rising pity that soon turned into anger. He
rose abruptly to his feet.
“I have but been sent to get your story, but no true Fenian is willing
to let wickedness go unpunished. If you will go with me, there will be
men to follow the deer tomorrow, and the sun shall not set before I have
tried my strength against the enchantment of the lord of that castle.”
For the first time in twenty-one years the Sorrowful Knight no longer
wept. He announced that he would go the next morning. The small chief
and the Red Giant also promised to take part in the chase of the deer.
In the morning the deer came to the gate and called as was her custom,
“Here is the deer, but where are the hunters to follow it?”
The four men had been waiting and now they set after her at full speed.
All day long they followed her, and in the evening she approached a cave
in the hillside.
“That is where she will disappear!” shouted the knight.
Dermot sped after her. Now, as you know, there was no one in Erin who
could equal him in a race. He rapidly caught up with the deer and seized
her by the hind leg, just as she reached the mouth of the cave.
Instantly the deer disappeared, and in her place was a hideous old
witch, with straggly gray hair and long crooked teeth. Dermot was so
startled that he let go his hold. The witch ran screaming into the cave.
The men followed and came out at the gate of the castle just as the
knight had done years before. When they knocked for admission, they were
met by the master, who seemed greatly surprised to see the Sorrowful
Knight.
“I thought you had enough of this place when you were here before,” he
said.
Dermot did the answering. “He comes with me,” he said. “I could not have
enough of your castle, because this is the first time I have ever been
here.”
The master invited them into the room where waited the twelve kettles of
water and the twelve boars.
“Have you a man among you who can prepare the supper?” asked the master.
“We have,” said Dermot. “And it is a long time since you had one as
good. We have also a man who will get the meat.”
Dermot went out into the forest and brought in enough meat for the meal.
He knew better than to try to prepare the enchanted boars. The ones he
had killed, he dressed with his sword and soon had them cooked. The
master made no comments, but ate with the others.
When the meal was over the lord of the castle addressed the knight.
“Have you a man among you who can show us a little action for our
amusement?”
Once more Dermot did the answering. “He has. Send in the same twelve
small men you used against his sons and we will show you enough action
to satisfy you.”
The small men brought in the chain and passed one end to Dermot, who
braced his feet against the rocks on the floor. The small men pulled as
hard as they could, but not a link of slack chain could they get. All at
once Dermot jerked them toward him, looped the chain over their necks
and snapped off the twelve heads.
He then held out the end of the chain to the master and said, “Perhaps
you would like to show us a little action yourself?”
The lord of the castle was seized with a fit of trembling at the thought
of pulling against this terrible Fenian. He dropped to his knees and
began to beg for his life.
“Spare me, and I will bring back the knight’s twelve sons,” he cried.
“That is all I could ask of you,” said Dermot.
The frightened enchanter took his rod and touched each of the twelve
blocks of stone along the wall. Instantly the twelve sons of the knight
were with them, as strong and hearty as ever.
You can imagine how the father felt over this change. He was no longer
the Sorrowful Knight.
They wasted no time in leaving the enchanter’s palace and in returning
to the castle of the man who was now the Glad Knight. From there Dermot
and his friends went on to the home of the Red Giant, and then on to the
king of the White Nation. Dermot was happy in being able to rescue the
twelve young men, but he was far happier in the thought that he was now
to see Finn MacCool.