But for eight days they lingered by the shores of the sea-lo

Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Clare Elliott, Brendan Lane,

and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

CELTIC TALES

TOLD TO THE CHILDREN

BY

LOUEY CHISHOLM

WITH PICTURES BY

KATHARINE CAMERON

TO CHRISTOPHER

NOTE

This little book was written after several variants of the Tales had been

read:--'Old Celtic Romances,' by Dr. Joyce; 'Reliquae Celticae,' by Dr.

Cameron; 'The Pursuit after Diarmud O'Duibhne and Grainne the daughter of

Cormac Mac Airt,' by Standish Hayes O'Grady; 'The Three Sorrows of

Story-telling,' by Dr. Douglas Hyde; 'The Laughter of Peterkin,' by Fiona

Macleod, and other translations and retellings.

L.C.

ABOUT THIS BOOK

One of my friends tells me that you, little reader, will not like these

old, old tales; another says they are too sad for you, and yet another

asks what the stories are meant to teach.

Now I, for my part, think you will like these Celtic Tales very much

indeed. It is true they are sad, but you do not always want to be amused.

And I have not told the stories for the sake of anything they may teach,

but because of their sheer beauty, and I expect you to enjoy them as

hundreds and hundreds of Irish and Scottish children have already enjoyed

them--without knowing or wondering why.

LOUEY CHISHOLM.

LIST OF STORIES

The Star-Eyed Deirdre

The Four White Swans

Dermat and Grania

LIST OF PICTURES

THE STAR-EYED DEIRDRE

'Art thou indeed Deirdre?'

Thence ofttimes in the young summer would they sail southward

The Hedge of Spears

THE FOUR WHITE SWANS

As she touched Aed, Fiacra, and Conn, the three brothers were as the maid

They would swim far out into a dim grey wilderness of waters

It was Saint Kemoc

DERMAT AND GRANIA

Dermat

Grania

THE STAR-EYED DEIRDRE

In olden days, when many Kings reigned throughout the Green Island of

Erin, none was greater than the great Concobar. So fair was his realm that

poets sang its beauty, and such the wonder of his palace that the sweetest

songs of Erin were of its loveliness.

In a castle of this fair realm dwelt Felim, a warrior and harper dear unto

the King. And it was told him that Concobar with his chief lords would

visit the castle.

Then Felim made a feast, and there was great rejoicing, and all men were

glad.

But in the midst of the feast an old magician, who was of those that had

come with the King, stood up before the great gathering. Long and white

was the hair that fell upon his bent shoulders, black were the eyes that

gazed into space from beneath his shaggy eyebrows.

'Speak,' said the King to the old man, 'speak, and tell us that thou

seest, for well we know thou piercest the veil that hideth from us the

secrets of the morrow.'

Silently and with great awe did all the company look at the wise old man,

for those things that he had already foretold had they not come to pass?

The magician, also silent, looked from the face of one to the face of

another, but when his eyes fell on Concobar, the King, long did they dwell

there, and when he lifted them, on Felim did they rest.

Then the Wise Man spake:

'This night, O Felim the Harper, shall a girl-babe be born to thee within

these castle walls. Loveliest among the lovely shall thy star-eyed

daughter be; no harp-strings shall yield such music as her voice, no fairy

strains pour forth such wonder-stirring sound. Yet, O Felim, in days to

come, because of this fair child shall great sorrow come upon our King

Concobar and upon all his realm. In those days shall Erin's chief glory

perish, for if the House of the Red Branch fall, who shall stand?'

Then did a cry of fear burst from those gathered to the feast, and leaping

to their feet, each man laid his hand upon his sword, for the word that

the wise man had spoken would it not come to pass?

'Let our swords be in readiness,' they cried, 'to kill the babe that shall

be born this night, for better far is it that one child perish than that

the blood of a nation be spilt.'

And Felim spake: 'Great sorrow is mine that fear of the child who shall be

born this night should be upon you. Therefore, if it please the King, let

my daughter die, and so may peace yet reign in the realm. For dear as

would be a child to my wife and to me, dearer yet is the common weal.'

But the answer of King Concobar came not for a time. His soul was filled

with desire to see the star-eyed maiden and to hear the wonder of her

voice. Still was the hand of each upon his sword when the King spake.

'Put far from thee, O Felim, the will to do this thing. Bend not thy mind

to the death of thine own child. And ye, my people, sheathe your swords.

Let the babe live. I, Concobar, will be her guardian, and if ill befall,

let it be upon me, your King.'

At these words arose a Prince.

'It would be well, O King, but for the word spoken by the Wise Man, for

hath he not said, "Because of this fair child shall great sorrow come upon

the King Concobar"? If we let the babe live, then must thy people see thee

in sore distress, for the word that the Wise Man speaketh, shall it not

come to pass?'

'Of that am I not unmindful. Deep within the forest, beyond the Moor of

Loneliness, shall her childish days be spent. Gently tended shall she be,

but the eye of man shall not behold her, and solitary shall she live as

some unmated bird in distant wilderness.'

Then with one accord did the people cry, 'Wilt thou indeed be guardian to

this child, knowing the ill that the Wise Man hath foretold?'

'Yea, truly will I be guardian to the child, and when she be a woman then

shall she be my wedded wife. And if with the maiden come sorrow, then be

that sorrow upon me, and not upon the land.'

'What sayest thou, O Felim the Harper?' cried the people.

'It were better to slay the child than to let that come which hath been

foretold.'

'And what sayest thou, O Wise Man?'

'That which shall come, shall come.'

At the same moment there entered the hall a servant of Felim, and loudly

did he proclaim that the girl-babe, who had been foretold, was born.

'Right beautiful and strong is the child, most fair to look upon.'

'And Deirdre shall her name be,' said the Wise Man, 'Deirdre the

Star-eyed.'

And because of the words that the King Concobar had spoken, the life of

the babe was spared, and when the days of feasting were past, Concobar

returned to his palace, and with him he took the infant child and her

mother. Yet after a month he bade the mother return to Felim her husband,

but the babe Deirdre he kept.

And deep within the forest, beyond the Moor of Loneliness, did the King

command that a cottage be built, and when Deirdre was one year, thither

was she sent with a trusted nurse. But on the trees of the forest and

throughout the land was proclaimed the order of the King Concobar, that

whosoever should hunt, or for other purpose enter the wood, death should

be his portion.

Once each week did the King visit the fair babe, and daily were stores of

food and milk brought to the lone dwelling. And Deirdre each year grew

more fair, but none beheld her beauty, save her nurse, her tutor, and

Lavarcam.

This Lavarcam was a woman well trusted of the King, and she alone went to

and fro between the palace and the cottage. It was she who told to Deirdre

the old tales of knights and ladies, of dragons and of fairies that dwelt

in the Enchanted Land.

When Deirdre was seven years old the King no longer came every week to the

forest, but twice in the year only, and that as the Spring put forth her

first green shoots, and again when Autumn gleaned her harvest of gold.

And when another seven years had sped, then came not the King thither,

either when the earth was green or golden, nor in the blue summer nor the

hoary winter, but from Lavarcam he heard that it was well with the maid.

One white winter's morning Deirdre looked from her window, and saw lying

in the snow a calf. It had been killed by her nurse to provide food for

the little household, and its bright red blood dyed the thick-lying snow.

As Deirdre watched the flow of the scarlet stream, a raven, black as

night, flew down and drank of the warm blood. Then Deirdre smiled.

'Where are thy thoughts, fair child?' asked Lavarcam, entering the room.

'Only did I think,' said Deirdre, 'that if a youth could be found whose

skin was white as snow, his cheek crimson as that pool of blood, and his

hair black as the raven's wing, him could I love right gladly.'

Then Lavarcam spake: 'Such a man have I seen, and one only.'

'His name, Lavarcam, his name?' cried Deirdre. 'Whence comes he, and

wherefrom he be found?'

'The fairest of three fair brothers is this Nathos, the son of Usna, and

now is he with Concobar the King.'

And Deirdre would thereafter think of none but Nathos, and Lavarcam was

much troubled because of the words that she had spoken. And when Deirdre

longed grievously by day and night to see this Nathos of whom she had

heard, Lavarcam thought of a plan whereby she might end the maiden's

dream.

One day, as she came from the palace of the King, she met on the Moor of

Loneliness a swineherd and two shepherd lads. And well though she knew

that none might enter the forest, she led them to a well in its leafy

depths. Then said this woman trusted of the King, 'Wait here by this well

until the jay cry and the hill-fox bark. Then move slowly on your way, but

speak to none whom ye may meet, and when ye leave the wood let not your

lips tell those things ye shall have seen and heard.'

With these words Lavarcam left the three men, and entered the cottage.

'Come, Deirdre,' she cried, 'the crisp snow glistens in the sunshine. Let

us wander forth.'

And Deirdre came, and dreamily she trod where Lavarcam led. Of a sudden

the older woman left her side, and bent as though she would gather a

woodland flower. At the same moment was heard the cry of the jay and the

bark of the hill-fox. Then came Lavarcam to the maiden's side.

'Passing strange is it,' said Deirdre, 'to hear the jay cry and the

hill-fox bark while yet the snow lies thick.'

'Heed not strange sounds, fair Deirdre, but cast thine eyes toward yonder

well.'

And as Deirdre gazed she saw, as in a dream, the forms of three men come

slowly through the forest.

'These, Deirdre, are men,' said Lavarcam.

'Yet seem they not as the men I have seen ride by across the Moor of

Loneliness, for they were fair to look upon, but mine eyes have no

pleasure in beholding these strange forms.'

'Yet you look upon Nathos, for these men are none other than the three

sons of Usna.'

Deirdre started. 'Idle are your words, false Lavarcam. Yonder walks not a

man with skin white as snow, with cheek crimson as blood, nor with hair

black as the raven's wing. You lie!' And the maid made haste, and she

reached the men, and stood before them.

Amazed at her exceeding beauty, they gazed in silence. 'Tell me if ye be

the sons of Usna. Speak!'

But in wonder at the loveliness of the maiden, and in fear of the anger of

Lavarcam, the men were dumb.

'Speak!' she again cried. 'If indeed ye be Nathos and his brothers, then

truly hath Concobar the King my pity.'

At these words the swineherd could no longer keep silence.

'It is thy exceeding beauty that telleth us that thou art that Deirdre

whom the King hideth in this forest. Why mock us by asking if we are the

fairest of Concobar's nobles? Clearly canst thou see we are but men of the

hills, I a poor swineherd, and these men shepherds.'

'Then wilt thou, swineherd, for truly do I believe thy words, get thee to

the sons of Usna, and say to Nathos the eldest, that in the forest beyond

the Moor of Loneliness, Deirdre awaits his coming. Tell him that

to-morrow, an hour before the setting of the sun, he will find her by this

well.'

'If it be known that I so break the law of the King, I die, yet will I go

right gladly.'

Then Deirdre left the men, and walked slowly after Lavarcam. And Lavarcam

would fain have known what Deirdre had told the swineherd, but the girl

told her nought, and was in a dream all that day and all the morrow.

It was in the wane of the morrow that Lavarcam went forth to take counsel

of the King. And Deirdre ran with great speed to the well, but no man was

there, and she waited long, but none came.

While Deirdre waited by the well, Lavarcam came near to the King's palace.

And lo! there, on the ground before her, lay the dead body of the

swineherd. Thus was it made known to Lavarcam that in some wise Concobar

the King had heard that the swineherd had spoken with Deirdre.

Therefore Lavarcam went not to the palace, but turned aside to the camp of

the sons of Usna. And Nathos came out to her, and she told him of the

loneliness of the fair Deirdre and of her longing to see him.

Then said Nathos, 'But it may not be yet awhile, for Concobar found that

the fair Deirdre had spoken with the swineherd, and for that cause lies he

yonder, a dead man.'

'Yet tarry not long, for if thou wouldst hunt in the forest, beyond the

well, then surely wouldst thou see Deirdre the Star-eyed, and none should

know.'

Seven days passed, and Deirdre roamed in the wood dreaming her dream, when

of a sudden there came an unknown sound. Ah, could it be the hunting-horn

of which Lavarcam had spoken in her tales of chase? The maiden paused. The

horn ceased. Nathos had left the hunt and wandered through the glade.

There, against a background of blue haze, encircled by a network of

blossoming blackthorn, shone forth the fairest vision mortal eye had

beheld.

Speech tarried as Nathos gazed spell-bound.

At length the maiden questioned, 'Nathos, son of Usna, what wouldst thou?'

'Strange is it that thou shouldst know my name, most fair. No mortal art

thou. Fain would I enter yonder cottage, did I but dare, and speak with

the daughter of Felim the Harper. Yet it is death should the King know of

my desire.'

'I am that Deirdre whom thou seekest, and if I be fair in thine eyes, it

pleaseth me well. It is for thee I have watched long, for is not thy skin

white as snow, thy cheek crimson as blood, and thy hair black as the

raven's wing? Lonely are my days in this place, where none dwells save my

nurse, my tutor, and Lavarcam.'

Never did harp-strings yield such music as her voice, never did fairy

strains pour forth such wonder-stirring sound.

'Art thou indeed Deirdre the Star-eyed, and is it that King Concobar

keepeth thee here like some caged bird?'

[Illustration: 'Art thou indeed Deirdre?']

'I am Deirdre, and it is the King's will that I wander not forth from

yonder cottage but by the side of Lavarcam. Ill would it please him that I

should thus roam the forest alone.'

'I love thee, Deirdre, and I would serve thee ever.'

'I love thee, Nathos, and I would that I might be ever by thy side. Let me

flee with thee from this place.'

Nathos knit his brows in thought. 'Fair one, if we are seen as we leave

the forest, then is it death to us both; and if we are not seen, still is

it death, for when it is known of the King that Deirdre is fled, then will

the land be searched until she be found, and then shall we die.'

'But, Nathos, Concobar is not King in the land of Alba. Let us flee from

Erin, and there in thine own land shall we surely find safety.'

'Thou speakest well, brave Deirdre. If a host be sent from Concobar to

Alba, then shall it be met by a host of mine own land. And a fair land it

is. Scented with pine and seaweed are its shores, blue as thine eyes are

its waters, and of its setting sun the glory cannot be told.'

'Let us go forth,' said Deirdre.

'Then let it be now and without delay, or it may never be,' and as Nathos

uttered these words Deirdre saw a strange look in his eyes, and in a

moment he had flung his javelin among the bracken but a few paces apart.

'What beast wouldst thou slay?' cried Deirdre, affrighted.

'It was no beast,' said Nathos, 'but yonder among the bracken lieth a dead

man, if my javelin missed not its mark.'

In fear and wonder Deirdre ran to the spot. No man lay there, but she saw

on the bracken the form of a crouching man. She saw, too, the tracks that

marked his escape.

Nathos followed her, and stooped to take his javelin from the ground. And

there, beside it, lay a wooden-hilted knife.

'It is as I thought,' he said. 'This knife is used but by the hillmen who

are in bondage to Concobar. The King seeketh my life. Go thou, then, back

to thy lonely cottage, and await that day when he shall make thee his

Queen.'

'Ask me not to turn from following thee, O Nathos, for thy way must be

mine, this day and ever.'

'Come, then,' and Nathos took her by the hand.

Through the shadowy forest they walked swiftly, until of a sudden he bade

her rest among the bracken. Then went he forward and told his waiting

huntsmen to return by a long and winding path to the castle of the sons of

Usna.

Three days would it thus take them to reach it, and Nathos with Deirdre

would be there on the morrow, if, tarrying not, they walked on through the

dark night. But Concobar's messengers would follow the hounds, thinking so

to capture Nathos.

'By dawn, Deirdre, shall we reach the castle, and there may we rest in

safety one day and one night. Then must we set out for the hills and lochs

of Alba, and with us Ailne and Ardan, for if the King cometh and findeth

me fled, then will he slay my brothers.'

On and on they sped, through the forest, across the Moor of Loneliness, up

the glens and gorges, and over the hills. Above glimmered the pale stars,

around them was the screech and the moan of wakeful bird and beast.

It was not till the dawn broke that they rested on the mountain-side.

There they stayed till the pink stole through the grey, and the sky

gleamed mother-o'-pearl. Then they rose and followed the stream that

trickled to the valley below. And now Nathos was glad.

'Look, Deirdre, yonder stands the castle of the sons of Usna.' And with

that he gave a cry known by the brothers each of the other, and Ailne and

Ardan came forth gladly. But when they stood before Deirdre, so great was

their wonder at her exceeding beauty, that they stood spell-bound and

uttered no word.

Then Nathos spake: 'The fair maiden whom ye behold is none other than

Deirdre, the daughter of Felim the Harper. From this day I hold her as my

wedded wife, and to you she cometh as a sister.'

But when the brothers heard, they were filled with fear, for had not the

King Concobar vowed that this same fair maid should be his Queen? And had

not the Wise Man foretold the sorrow that the daughter of Felim should

bring upon the land?

'I ask none to share the sorrow that may come,' said Nathos. 'To-morrow

Deirdre and I set forth for the bay where our galley is harboured, and if

so be that we gain the shores of Alba, before Concobar overtake us, there,

if he come thither, shall he be met by a host of our own land. Yet, lest

the King should follow me hither, and, finding me not, seek to slay you,

were it not well that ye leave this place?'

Ardan spake: 'Not for fear of that which might come upon us, but for the

love we bear you and our fair sister Deirdre will we never leave thee. If

sorrow come upon thee, let it be upon us also. Are we not the children of

one mother, and if death come, let us face it together like men. Are we

not under a bond that we will stand each by each, even unto death?'

Then said Ailne, 'As Ardan hath spoken, so let it be, for although the

words of the Wise Man come to pass, and sorrow be upon us, yet will we not

henceforth leave thee.'

But when Deirdre heard how the sons of Usna would thus face death for her

sake, she sighed aloud. 'Alas! it is not for me to bring sorrow upon the

land. Let me even now return to the cottage in the forest, and there with

Lavarcam will I live and die, unless it be that Concobar take me thence.'

But Ardan answered: 'For fear of what may befall us, the sons of Usna,

shalt thou never leave us, nor shalt thou go forth from us, but of thine

own free will.'

Early next morning one hundred and fifty men rode with the three sons of

Usna and Deirdre, the wife of Nathos, toward the bay where their black

galley was harboured. It was not till night, when on the high ridge of a

hill, that they looked backward, and there in the far valley below, where

stood the castle of the sons of Usna, they beheld a column of flame.

And Nathos' brow grew dark. 'The fire that ye see in the valley below

devours the castle of the sons of Usna. The hand that lit the fire is none

other than the hand of Concobar the King.'

Then they rode on and rested not until they reached the black galley in

the golden bay. The scent of the sea and the gleam of its blue waters and

dancing waves made them strong and glad and free.

As for Deirdre, who had never beheld the sea and its great wonders, she

laughed with joy and sang a song of the ocean which Lavarcam had taught

her long since and when its meaning was dark.

At sundown the galley came to the shores of Mull, and because the wind

fell they put into a bay, and as they gazed across the waters to the rocky

headlands of Alba, they talked long as to whither they should sail on the

morrow. Should it be to crave protection of the King, or should it be to

where their father's castle had stood before it had been destroyed?

But that night there came a galley from the long island to the north. In

it sailed twenty men with their chief. And with the chief came a

richly-clad stranger, but so hooded that none might look upon his face.

Steadfastly did the stranger gaze upon Deirdre, as the chief urged the

sons of Usna to cross the sea to Alba, and journey inland to the palace of

the King.

'But first come, Nathos, to my high-walled castle,' said the stranger, 'and

bring with thee thy wife and thy brothers.'

'It were not well to come to a man's castle and know not the man's name,'

said Nathos.

'My name is Angus,' answered the stranger.

'Then, Angus, let me behold thy face, for it were not well to come to a

man's castle, having not looked upon the man's face.'

So Angus threw back his hood, and Nathos saw that Deirdre's lips grew

white, as she said, 'Not to-morrow, Angus; but on the morn that follows,

if thou wilt come again, then shalt thou lead us to thy high-walled

castle. This day have we travelled far and would fain rest.'

But Angus turned him again to the sons of Usna and pleaded that they

should linger no longer in the isle. 'To-night may this island be

tempest-swept, to-night may the host of Concobar be upon you, and then

what shall befall this fair one? Bring her rather to my castle, and there

let her rest in safety with my wife and her maidens.'

But as Nathos glanced at Deirdre, he saw that her purpose was firm, and he

said once again the words she had spoken, 'Not tomorrow, Angus; but on the

morn that follows, if thou wilt come again, then shall we come with thee

to thy high-walled castle'

Then Angus, frowning, went with the chief and his men to their galley. And

as they set sail he asked how many men the sons of Usna had with them. But

when it was told him that they numbered one hundred and fifty, he said no

more, for there were but thirty that sailed with the chief, and what could

one man do against five?

It was not until the strangers had gone that Nathos asked Deirdre

wherefore she delayed to visit so great a lord as Angus.

'Thou shalt hear wherefore I went not this day, nor shall go on any day to

come to the castle of him who calleth himself Angus. So he calleth

himself, but in truth he is none other than the King of Alba. In a dream

was it so revealed unto me, when I saw him stand victorious over your dead

body. Nathos, that man would fain steal me from you, and deliver you into

the hands of Concobar.'

'Deirdre hath wisdom,' said Ardan. 'By the morn after to-morrow we must be

far hence, for ere the sun shall rise may not yonder chief be upon us with

thrice the number of our men?'

And Nathos, though he was sore grieved for the weariness of Deirdre, bowed

his head. So they set sail, and through the thick mist of a starless night

their galley silently breasted the unseen waves. But when they came north

of the long island, they bent to their oars, and as they rowed yet

northward Deirdre laughed again for joy, as she listened to the music of

the rowers' strokes.

When dawn glimmered they came to a sea-loch, its waters o'ershadowed by

the sleeping hills. And there they were told that the King of Alba, who

had called himself Angus, had no castle in the west, and had already left

for Dunedin. They heard, too, that the chief who sailed with him to Mull

was no longer a great lord, and that they had nought to fear.

Greatly did the sons of Usna rejoice, for now might they sail south to the

land upon which their father's castle had stood in their boyhood.

But for eight days they lingered by the shores of the sea-loch, and as its

salt breath touched Deirdre's cheeks, she grew yet more fair, and as her

eyes drank in the glory of Western Alba, they shone with a radiance that

dazzled the beholder.

Then when the eighth day was come, they sailed forth and settled close by

the ground on which had stood their boyhood's home. And it was with great

joy that those who dwelt on hill and shore heard of the return of the sons

of Usna, and many gathered around them, doing homage.

Then the hundred and fifty men whom Nathos had brought with him, sent he

back to their own Green Isle.

'And thou, Ailne, and thou, Ardan, will ye not also return? Here may

Deirdre and I, with a few followers, dwell alone in safety.'

But his brothers would not leave Nathos, for were they not under a bond

that they would stand each by each, even unto death?

All through the winter they dwelt in peace and content. By day they would

hunt and fish, and when night fell Deirdre let fall from her lips such

wonder-stirring sounds that their heroic bosoms swelled with dreams of

noble deeds and high endeavour.

But when Spring burst upon the land with her blossom and her

singing-birds, it was told the sons of Usna that the King of Alba had

sworn to burn to the ground every stone that stood on the land that had

been their father's, and to slay Nathos, and wed the Star-eyed Deirdre.

So in their great galley they set forth, taking with them fifty men.

Northward they sailed, through narrow sea-lochs, until they reached the

mountains that had been the childhood's home of their dead mother.

On the summit of a high hill stood the castle where she had once dwelt.

Now it was forsaken of all save wandering shepherds and nesting birds, and

here, in all the glory of spring, did the sons of Usna make their home.

Nor was it long before the chiefs of the mountain-lands swore allegiance

to Nathos and did him homage, and he was as a king among the people of his

mother's land.

And while yet the wild thyme bloomed, word was brought to the sons of Usna

that the King of Alba was dead, and that the King who now reigned would

fain sign a bond of friendship with Nathos and his brothers.

And the bond was signed, and for three years the sons of Usna dwelt in

peace and great joy. In the north they rested while yet the mountain-sides

were aglow with the purple and gold of heather and bracken, but ever

before the first frosts came would they sail south to the land that the

brave Usna had ruled, where now they could dwell in safety and in peace.

Thence ofttimes in the young summer would they sail southwards. No bluer

blue, no greener green, had it been given mortal eye to behold. And

throughout the land of Alba was it told of the fame of the sons of Usna,

and no poet or bard had a song so fair as that which sang of the wondrous

beauty of Deirdre.

[Illustration: Thence ofttimes in the young summer would they sail

southward]

* * * * *

In his dazzling palace in the Green Isle of Erin, Concobar dwelt with

gloomy thoughts of vengeance. This Nathos who had stolen Deirdre from the

forest beyond the Moor of Loneliness should no longer be suffered to live

in peace. He should surely die, and Deirdre the Star-eyed should yet be

Concobar's Queen.

And the King made a feast so magnificent that such had never been seen in

the Green Isle. And to it were called all the princes and nobles of the

land over which Concobar held sway.

It was in the midst of the feast, as they sat around the board, that a

hush fell upon the great company, while Concobar spoke to them of his

discontent. 'It is not meet that these three heroes of the realm, Nathos,

Ardan and Ailne, should be exiled from our isle for the sake of a woman,

be she fair as May. Should dark days befall, sore would be our need,

therefore let the sons of Usna be brought hither from their northern

mountain home.'

At these words great was the joy of all, for there was not one but knew

that it was for fear of the pitiless anger of Concobar that Nathos had

fled from the Green Isle.

'Go forth,' said Concobar, when he saw the gladness of the people, 'go

hence to Alba and come not again until ye bring with you the three sons of

Usna.'

Then spake one among them, 'Right gladly we go, but who can bring to thee

Nathos, if it be not his will?'

'He who loves me most,' answered the King, 'he it is that will fail not to

bring with him the exiled heroes.'

And after the feast the King drew aside a warrior prince, and spake thus:

'Were I to send thee to Alba to the sons of Usna, and if at my command

thou didst see them slain before thee, what then wouldst thou do?'

'Then, O King, would I slay those who did the monstrous deed, even were it

at thy command.'

Again the King called to him a warrior prince. To him he spake as to the

first. And this prince made answer, 'If by thy command I saw the sons of

Usna lie dead before me, then woe be upon thee, for with mine own hand

should I take thy life.'

Then spake the King likewise to Fergus, and Fergus answered, 'Let what may

befall the sons of Usna, never shall my hand be lifted against the King.'

'To thee, good Fergus, do I intrust this thing. Go thou to Alba and bring

hither with thee Nathos, and Ailne, and Ardan. And when thou art come

again to Erin, keep thou thy bond to feast at the house of Borrach, but

the three sons of Usna send thou straightway hither.'

So it was that on the morrow Fergus set sail in a black barge for Alba,

taking with him but his two sons and a steersman.

The bloom of early summer made bright the earth, and Nathos and his

brothers had not yet left their father's home for the castle in the north.

But the days were hot, and they had pitched three tents on the seashore,

one for Nathos and Deirdre, one for Ailne and Ardan, and one in which to

eat and to drink. It was on a bright noon that Nathos and Deirdre sat

before the tents, playing chess.

The chess-board was of ivory, the chessmen were of wrought gold, and they

had belonged to Concobar, for on the day before the sons of Usna fled from

Alba, the King had been hunting by their castle, and there had he left the

board and men.

As Nathos and Deirdre played, of a sudden was a cry heard from adown the

shore.

'Yonder is the voice of a man of Erin,' said Nathos, as they paused in

their game.

Again a loud cry, and the sons of Usna were called by name.

'Yea, most truly is that the cry of a man of Erin.'

But Deirdre said, 'Nay, thou dreamest, Nathos. Let us play on.'

Then nearer and clearer came a third cry, and there was none but knew that

it was indeed the voice of a man of Erin.

'Go, Ardan,' said Nathos, 'go to the harbour, and there welcome Fergus

from the Green Isle, for he indeed it is and none other.'

But when Ardan went, Nathos saw that Deirdre's lips grew pale and a great

fear looked out from her eyes.

'What terror is it that hath hold of thee?' he asked.

'Hath it not been revealed to me in a dream, O Nathos, that this Fergus

who should come with honey-sweet words hath in his mind the shedding of

our blood?'

Even as she spake Ardan led Fergus to where the two sat on either side of

the chess-board.

Eagerly did the exiled sons of Usna beg for tidings of their friends in

the Green Isle.

'I come to you,' said Fergus, 'with greetings from Concobar the King. Fain

would he see once more in Erin the fairest and bravest heroes of his

realm. Peace he would pledge with you, and great shall be your welcome, if

ye will come back with me.'

But before the brothers could answer, Deirdre spake. 'Here in Alba is

Nathos now lord over lands wider than the realm of Concobar. Wherefore

then should he seek forgiveness of the King?'

'Yet,' replied Fergus, 'Erin is the land of his adoption. Since his

boyhood's days Nathos has been a hero in the Green Isle, and it were well

that he should yet rejoice in the land, and, if need be, defend it still.'

'We have two lands,' said Ardan, 'and both are dear unto us. Yet, if

Nathos will go with thee to Erin, so also will Ailne and I, myself.'

'I will go,' said Nathos, but he looked not at his star-eyed wife as he

spake the words.

That night all rejoiced save Deirdre. Heavy was her heart as she thought

she would never again, in shadow or in sunlight, rest in the land of Alba

of the lochs.

On the morrow they set sail, and swiftly the galley bore them to the

shores of the Green Isle. And when Deirdre stood once more on the soil of

her own land, then was her heart glad, and for a brief space she

remembered not her fears or her dreams.

In three days they came to the castle of Borrach, and there had Fergus to

keep his bond to feast with Borrach. 'For,' he said, turning to those with

him, 'my feast-bond I must keep, yet send I with you my two sons.'

'Of a surety, Fergus, must thou keep thy feast-bond,' answered Nathos,

'but as for thy sons, I need not their protection, yet in the company each

of the other will we fare southward together.'

But as they went, Deirdre urged that they should tarry, and when they had

gone further, Nathos found that his wife had vanished from his side. Going

back he found her in deep sleep by the wayside.

Gently waking her, Nathos read terror in her starry eyes.

'What aileth thee, my Queen?'

'Again have I dreamed, O Nathos, and in my dream I saw our little company,

but as I looked, on the younger son of Fergus alone, was the head left

upon his body. Turn aside, and let us go not to Concobar, or that thing

which I saw in my dream, it shall come to pass.'

But Nathos feared not, for had not Fergus come to them with the bond of

peace from the King?

And on the morrow they came to the great palace.

When it was told Concobar that the three sons of Usna and Deirdre the

Star-eyed, and the two sons of Fergus were without, he ordered that they

should be taken into the House of the Red Branch. And he ordered, too,

that there should be given unto them of pleasant foods, and that all that

dwelt in the castle should do them honour.

But when evening was come, and all the company was merry, Deirdre was

wearied with journeying, and she lay upon a couch draped with deerskins,

and played with Nathos upon the gold and ivory chess-board.

And as Deirdre rested, the door opened, and there entered a messenger from

the King. And this messenger was none other than Lavarcam, who had been

sent to discover if Deirdre were still as fair as in days of old. And when

Lavarcam beheld Deirdre, her eyes filled with tears. 'You do not well, O

Nathos, thus to play upon the chess-board which Concobar holds dearer than

aught else save Deirdre, thy wife. Both have ye taken from him, and here,

within these walls, are ye now in his power.'

Of a sudden Deirdre spake, her gaze fixed as if on some strange thing. 'I

see as in a dream. As in a dream I see three torches. The three torches

are this night put out. The names on the torches are Nathos, Ailne, Ardan.

Alas! it is but for the beauty of a woman that these brave ones perish.'

The sons of Usna were silent awhile, and the sons of Fergus spake not.

Then said Nathos, 'It were better, Deirdre, to be a torch quenched for thy

sake than to live for aught save thee. That which shall come, shall come.'

'Now must I get me hence,' said Lavarcam, 'for Concobar awaiteth my

coming. But, sons of Usna, see ye well to it, that the doors and windows

be this night barred.'

Then Lavarcam hastened to the King and told him how that the sons of Usna

had come to Erin to live peaceably, but how that the beauty of Deirdre had

faded until she was no longer fairest among women.

Then was Concobar wroth, and he sent yet another messenger.

To this man he said, 'Who was it that slew thy father and thy brother?'

'Nathos, son of Usna, O King!'

'Then go thou to the House of the Red Branch, and bring me word hither if

Deirdre be still the fairest among women.'

And the man went. But when he found that bar and bolt were drawn across

door and window, he knew well that the sons of Usna were warned of the

wrath of the King. But espying one open window, he put his eye near to the

lower corner that he might glance within. And Deirdre saw the man's eye,

and told Nathos, and he, with the ivory bishop that was in his hand, took

aim as if with a javelin, and the chessman pierced the spy's eye, and it

became blind.

And the man returned to King Concobar and said, 'Of a surety Deirdre, the

wife of Nathos, is yet of all fair women the most fair.'

Then could not Concobar contain his wrath, but burst forth, 'Arise, ye

Ultonians; the fort that surroundeth the House of the Red Branch set ye in

flames.'

And the Ultonians set it in flames.

Then came out the younger of the sons of Fergus from the burning fort, and

he rushed upon the Ultonians and killed three hundred men. And when King

Concobar beheld the onslaught, he cried aloud, 'Who hath done this thing?'

And when it was told him that it was the son of Fergus, he said, 'To such

a hero will I give the choice of lands, and he will be to me as a son, if

he will but forsake the sons of Usna.'

And the son of Fergus made answer, 'I swear to abide by thee and to return

not to the House of the Red Branch.'

And when he returned not, Deirdre, said, 'Even as Fergus hath deceived us,

even so hath his son.'

Then went forth the elder son of Fergus, and he fell upon the Ultonians,

and there perished by his hand three hundred men. And when Concobar saw

who it was that had done this thing, he called his own son, who had been

born the same night as this son of Fergus. 'Take these, my magic arms,' he

cried, 'and fall upon the foe.'

Then did the son of Concobar strike with his enchanted weapons, and all

the waves of Erin thundered at the stroke. And a great warrior, hearing

the thunder, came riding across the plain, and in his hand he held a magic

sword with blade of blue. Coming upon the fighting men, he rushed at the

son of Fergus from behind, and thrust the blue blade through his heart. 'I

would that mine enemy had fought me fair,' said the dying man.

'Who art thou?' asked the stranger.

And the son of Fergus told his name, and of that which had come to pass in

the House of the Red Branch.

Then answered the stranger, 'I shall not depart hence, no, not until the

son of Concobar be slain in the dust'; and thereupon he rushed upon the

King's son, and with one stroke of the blue blade severed his head from

his body. So he departed, and soon the son of Fergus also lay dead.

And now the Ulstermen surrounded the House of the Red Branch and set fire

to its walls. But Ardan came forth, and put out the fire, and slew three

hundred men, and after he had gone in, then came Ailne forth, and slew a

countless multitude beside.

A glimmering ray of dim grey light now broke, and spread over the forms of

dead and dying men.

It was at that hour that Nathos kissed Deirdre and went forth from the

House. And there was not a man but quailed as the hero rushed upon the

Ultonians and slew a thousand men.

When Concobar heard this, he sent for that Wise Man who in the house of

Felim the Harper had foretold the sorrow that would come upon his realm.

And when the old man had come, Concobar said, 'I swear that I mean no harm

unto the sons of Usna, yet will they slay every Ultonian in the land.

Therefore I would that thou wouldst help me by thy magic power.'

And the Wise Man believed the words of Concobar, and he caused a hedge of

spears to encircle the burning House. And as the flames rose higher the

sons of Usna came forth with Deirdre the Star-eyed. And around her they

placed their shields, and they cleft a way through the Hedge of Spears and

came safely to the plain beyond.

[Illustration: The Hedge of Spears]

But when the Wise Man saw that his magic availed nought, he laid upon the

land yet another enchantment, for the plain upon which Deirdre stood with

the sons of Usna, he caused to be covered with tempestuous water.

And the magic sea rose higher and yet more high, so that Nathos raised

Deirdre on his shoulder, and there she rested, her white arms around the

hero's neck.

But now the waters grew calm, and it was seen that drowning was not their

doom.

Then, as the waters withdrew from the plain, soldiers came to bind Nathos,

Ailne, and Ardan, and to take them before the King. And Concobar commanded

that they should be slain before his eyes.

'If such be our doom, then slay me first,' said Ardan, 'for I am the

youngest of Usna's sons.'

'Nay,' said Ailne, 'but let the first blow fall upon me.'

Then Nathos spake: 'It were not meet that we three, the sons of one

mother, should be divided in death. Together have we sowed the seeds in

the springtime, side by side have we plucked the fruits of summer; autumn

is still afar, yet must we be cut down as ripe corn. But let us fall each

by each, that there may not be left the one to mourn the other. With this

sword that was given me by a hero of the land may our heads at one stroke

be severed from our bodies.'

With that they laid their heads upon the block. A flash of the steel, and

Alba was bereft of the fairest and noblest of her sons. And the air was

rent with cries of lamentation.

Then did a great champion ride across the plain, and to him did Deirdre

tell of the fate of the sons of Usna. And under his care the star-eyed

maiden came where the heroes lay dead.

And Deirdre kneeled, and she bent low over the head of Nathos, and kissed

his dead lips.

Then, at the bidding of the champion, three graves were digged, and in

them, standing upright, were buried Nathos and Ailne and Ardan, and upon

the shoulders of each was his head placed.

And as Deirdre gazed into the grave of Nathos, she moaned a lay which told

of the brave deeds of the sons of Usna. It told, too, of her love for

Nathos, and as she ended the mournful strain, her heartstrings broke, and

she fell at the feet of her husband, and there did she die, and by his

side was she buried.

In that same hour died the Wise Man; and as he died, he cried aloud, 'That

which shall come, shall come.'

And so it was, for on the morrow Concobar's host was scattered as autumn

leaves, and the House of the Red Branch perished, and ere long Concobar

died in a madness of despair, and throughout the Green Isle was mourning

and desolation.

But through the ages has the tale of the wondrous beauty of Deirdre been

sung, and yet shall it be told again, for when shall the world tire of the

sorrowfullest of 'The Three Sorrows of Story-telling,'--the Fate of the

Sons of Usna and of Deirdre the Star-eyed?

THE FOUR WHITE SWANS

In the days of long ago there lived in the Green Isle of Erin a race of

brave men and fair women--the race of the Dedannans. North, south, east,

and west did this noble people dwell, doing homage to many chiefs.

But one blue morning after a great battle the Dedannans met on a wide

plain to choose a King. 'Let us,' they said, 'have one King over all. Let

us no longer have many rulers.'

Forth from among the Princes rose five well fitted to wield a sceptre and

to wear a crown, yet most royal stood Bove Derg and Lir. And forth did the

five chiefs wander, that the Dedannan folk might freely say to whom they

would most gladly do homage as King.

Not far did they roam, for soon there arose a great cry, 'Bove Derg is

King. Bove Derg is King.' And all were glad, save Lir.

But Lir was angry, and he left the plain where the Dedannan people were,

taking leave of none, and doing Bove Derg no reverence. For jealousy

filled the heart of Lir.

Then were the Dedannans wroth, and a hundred swords were unsheathed and

flashed in the sunlight on the plain. 'We go to slay Lir who doeth not

homage to our King and regardeth not the choice of the people.'

But wise and generous was Bove Derg, and he bade the warriors do no hurt

to the offended Prince.

For long years did Lir live in discontent, yielding obedience to none. But

at length a great sorrow fell upon him, for his wife, who was dear unto

him, died, and she had been ill but three days. Loudly did he lament her

death, and heavy was his heart with sorrow.

When tidings of Lir's grief reached Bove Derg, he was surrounded by his

mightiest chiefs. 'Go forth,' he said, 'in fifty chariots go forth. Tell

Lir I am his friend as ever, and ask that he come with you hither. Three

fair foster-children are mine, and one may he yet have to wife, will he

but bow to the will of the people, who have chosen me their King.'

When these words were told to Lir, his heart was glad. Speedily he called

around him his train, and in fifty chariots set forth. Nor did they

slacken speed until they reached the palace of Bove Derg by the Great

Lake. And there at the still close of day, as the setting rays of the sun

fell athwart the silver waters, did Lir do homage to Bove Derg. And Bove

Derg kissed Lir and vowed to be his friend for ever.

And when it was known throughout the Dedannan host that peace reigned

between these mighty chiefs, brave men and fair women and little children

rejoiced, and nowhere were there happier hearts than in the Green Isle of

Erin.

Time passed, and Lir still dwelt with Bove Derg in his palace by the Great

Lake. One morning the King said, 'Full well thou knowest my three fair

foster-daughters, nor have I forgotten my promise that one thou shouldst

have to wife. Choose her whom thou wilt.'

Then Lir answered, 'All are indeed fair, and choice is hard. But give unto

me the eldest, if it be that she be willing to wed.'

And Eve, the eldest of the fair maidens, was glad, and that day was she

married to Lir, and after two weeks she left the palace by the Great Lake

and drove with her husband to her new home.

* * * * *

Happily dwelt Lir's household and merrily sped the months. Then were born

unto Lir twin babes. The girl they called Finola, and her brother did they

name Aed.

Yet another year passed and again twins were born, but before the infant

boys knew their mother, she died. So sorely did Lir grieve for his

beautiful wife that he would have died of sorrow, but for the great love

he bore his motherless children.

When news of Eve's death reached the palace of Bove Derg by the Great Lake

all mourned aloud for love of Eve and sore pity for Lir and his four

babes. And Bove Derg said to his mighty chiefs, 'Great indeed is our

grief, but in this dark hour shall Lir know our friendship. Ride forth,

make known to him that Eva, my second fair foster-child, shall in time

become his wedded wife and shall cherish his lone babes.'

So messengers rode forth to carry these tidings to Lir, and in time Lir

came again to the palace of Bove Derg by the Great Lake, and he married

the beautiful Eva and took her back with him to his little daughter,

Finola, and to her three brothers, Aed and Fiacra and Conn.

Four lovely and gentle children they were, and with tenderness did Eva

care for the little ones who were their father's joy and the pride of the

Dedannans.

As for Lir, so great was the love he bore them, that at early dawn he

would rise, and, pulling aside the deerskin that separated his

sleeping-room with theirs, would fondle and frolic with the children until

morning broke.

And Bove Derg loved them well-nigh as did Lir himself. Ofttimes would he

come to see them, and ofttimes were they brought to his palace by the

Great Lake.

And through all the Green Isle, where dwelt the Dedannan people, there

also was spread the fame of the beauty of the children of Lir.

* * * * *

Time crept on, and Finola was a maid of twelve summers. Then did a wicked

jealousy find root in Eva's heart, and so did it grow that it strangled

the love which she had borne her sister's children. In bitterness she

cried, 'Lir careth not for me; to Finola and her brothers hath he given

all his love.'

And for weeks and months Eva lay in bed planning how she might do hurt to

the children of Lir.

At length, one midsummer morn, she ordered forth her chariot, that with

the four children she might come to the palace of Bove Derg.

When Finola heard it, her fair face grew pale, for in a dream had it been

revealed unto her that Eva, her step-mother, should that day do a dark

deed among those of her own household. Therefore was Finola sore afraid,

but only her large eyes and pale cheeks spake her woe, as she and her

brothers drove along with Eva and her train.

On they drove, the boys laughing merrily, heedless alike of the black

shadow resting on their step-mother's brow, and of the pale, trembling

lips of their sister. As they reached a gloomy pass, Eva whispered to her

attendants, 'Kill, I pray you, these children of Lir, for their father

careth not for me, because of his great love for them. Kill them, and

great wealth shall be yours.'

But the attendants answered in horror, 'We will not kill them. Fearful, O

Eva, were the deed, and great is the evil that will befall thee, for

having it in thine heart to do this thing.'

Then Eva, filled with rage, drew forth her sword to slay them with her own

hand, but too weak for the monstrous deed, she sank back in the chariot.