Gods and Fighting Men by Lady I. A Gregory (portable ebook reader txt) 📕

salt water goes into our sores," she

said, "we will get our death." And she made this complaint:--

 

"It is keening we are to-night; without feathers to cover our bodies; it

is cold the rough, uneven rocks are under our bare feet.

 

"It is bad our stepmother was to us the time she played enchantments on

us, sending us out like swans upon the sea.

 

"Our washing place is on the ridge of the bay, in the foam of flying

manes of the sea; our share of the ale feast is the salt water of the

blue tide.

 

"One daughter and three sons; it is in the clefts of the rocks we are;

it is on the hard rocks we are, it is a pity the way we are."

 

However, they came on to the course of the Maoil again, and the salt

water was sharp and rough and bitter to them, but if it was itself, they

were not able to avoid it or to get shelter from it. And they were there

by the shore under that hardship till such time as their feathers grew

again, and their wings, and till their sores were entirely healed. And

then they used to go every day to the shore of Ireland or of Alban, but

they had to come back to Sruth na Maoile every night.

 

Now they came one day to the mouth of the Banna, to the north of

Ireland, and they saw a troop of riders, beautiful, of the one colour,

with well-trained pure white horses under them, and they travelling the

road straight from the south-west.

 

"Do you know who those riders are, sons of Lir?" said Fionnuala.

 

"We do not," they said; "but it is likely they might be some troop of

the Sons of the Gael, or of the Tuatha de Danaan."

 

They moved over closer to the shore then, that they might know who they

were, and when the riders saw them they came to meet them until they

were able to hold talk together.

 

And the chief men among them were two sons of Bodb Dearg, Aodh

Aithfhiosach, of the quick wits, and Fergus Fithchiollach, of the chess,

and a third part of the Riders of the Sidhe along with them, and it was

for the swans they had been looking for a long while before that, and

when they came together they wished one another a kind and loving

welcome.

 

And the children of Lir asked for news of all the Men of Dea, and above

all of Lir, and Bodb Dearg and their people.

 

"They are well, and they are in the one place together," said they, "in

your father's house at Sidhe Fionnachaidh, using the Feast of Age

pleasantly and happily, and with no uneasiness on them, only for being

without yourselves, and without knowledge of what happened you from the

day you left Loch Dairbhreach."

 

"That has not been the way with us," said Fionnuala, "for we have gone

through great hardship and uneasiness and misery on the tides of the sea

until this day."

 

And she made this complaint:--

 

"There is delight to-night with the household of Lir! Plenty of ale with

them and of wine, although it is in a cold dwelling-place this night are

the four children of the king.

 

"It is without a spot our bedclothes are, our bodies covered over with

curved feathers; but it is often we were dressed in purple, and we

drinking pleasant mead.

 

"It is what our food is and our drink, the white sand and the bitter

water of the sea; it is often we drank mead of hazel-nuts from round

four-lipped drinking cups.

 

"It is what our beds are, bare rocks out of the power of the waves; it

is often there used to be spread out for us beds of the breast-feathers

of birds.

 

"Though it is our work now to be swimming through the frost and through

the noise of the waves, it is often a company of the sons of kings were

riding after us to the Hill of Bodb.

 

"It is what wasted my strength, to be going and coming over the current

of the Maoil the way I never was used to, and never to be in the

sunshine on the soft grass.

 

"Fiachra's bed and Conn's bed is to come under the cover of my wings on

the sea. Aodh has his place under the feathers of my breast, the four of

us side by side.

 

"The teaching of Manannan without deceit, the talk of Bodb Dearg on the

pleasant ridge; the voice of Angus, his sweet kisses; it is by their

side I used to be without grief."

 

After that the riders went on to Lir's house, and they told the chief

men of the Tuatha de Danaan all the birds had gone through, and the

state they were in. "We have no power over them," the chief men said,

"but we are glad they are living yet, for they will get help in the end

of time."

 

As to the children of Lir, they went back towards their old place in the

Maoil, and they stopped there till the time they had to spend in it was

spent. And then Fionnuala said: "The time is come for us to leave this

place. And it is to Irrus Domnann we must go now," she said, "after our

three hundred years here. And indeed there will be no rest for us there,

or any standing ground, or any shelter from the storms. But since it is

time for us to go, let us set out on the cold wind, the way we will not

go astray."

 

So they set out in that way, and left Sruth na Maoile behind them, and

went to the point of Irrus Domnann, and there they stopped, and it is a

life of misery and a cold life they led there. And one time the sea

froze about them that they could not move at all, and the brothers were

lamenting, and Fionnuala was comforting them, for she knew there would

help come to them in the end.

 

And they stayed at Irrus Domnann till the time they had to spend there

was spent. And then Fionnuala said: "The time is come for us to go back

to Sidhe Fionnachaidh, where our father is with his household and with

all our own people."

 

"It pleases us well to hear that," they said.

 

So they set out flying through the air lightly till they came to Sidhe

Fionnachaidh; and it is how they found the place, empty before them, and

nothing in it but green hillocks and thickets of nettles, without a

house, without a fire, without a hearthstone. And the four pressed close

to one another then, and they gave out three sorrowful cries, and

Fionnuala made this complaint:--

 

"It is a wonder to me this place is, and it without a house, without a

dwelling-place. To see it the way it is now, Ochone! it is bitterness to

my heart.

 

"Without dogs, without hounds for hunting, without women, without great

kings; we never knew it to be like this when our father was in it.

 

"Without horns, without cups, without drinking in the lighted house;

without young men, without riders; the way it is to-night is a

foretelling of sorrow.

 

"The people of the place to be as they are now, Ochone! it is grief to

my heart! It is plain to my mind to-night the lord of the house is not

living.

 

"Och, house where we used to see music and playing and the gathering of

people! I think it a great change to see it lonely the way it is

to-night.

 

"The greatness of the hardships we have gone through going from one wave

to another of the sea, we never heard of the like of them coming on any

other person.

 

"It is seldom this place had its part with grass and bushes; the man is

not living that would know us, it would be a wonder to him to see us

here."

 

However, the children of Lir stopped that night in their father's place

and their grandfather's, where they had been reared, and they were

singing very sweet music of the Sidhe. And they rose up early on the

morning of the morrow and went to Inis Gluaire, and all the birds of the

country gathered near them on Loch na-n Ean, the Lake of the Birds. And

they used to go out to feed every day to the far parts of the country,

to Inis Geadh and to Accuill, the place Donn, son of Miled, and his

people that were drowned were buried, and to all the western islands of

Connacht, and they used to go back to Inis Gluaire every night.

 

It was about that time it happened them to meet with a young man of good

race, and his name was Aibric; and he often took notice of the birds,

and their singing was sweet to him and he loved them greatly, and they

loved him. And it is this young man that told the whole story of all

that had happened them, and put it in order.

 

And the story he told of what happened them in the end is this.

 

It was after the faith of Christ and blessed Patrick came into Ireland,

that Saint Mochaomhog came to Inis Gluaire. And the first night he came

to the island, the children of Lir heard the voice of his bell, ringing

near them. And the brothers started up with fright when they heard it

"We do not know," they said, "what is that weak, unpleasing voice we

hear."

 

"That is the voice of the bell of Mochaomhog," said Fionnuala; "and it

is through that bell," she said, "you will be set free from pain and

from misery."

 

They listened to that music of the bell till the matins were done, and

then they began to sing the low, sweet music of the Sidhe.

 

And Mochaomhog was listening to them, and he prayed to God to show him

who was singing that music, and it was showed to him that the children

of Lir were singing it. And on the morning of the morrow he went forward

to the Lake of the Birds, and he saw the swans before him on the lake,

and he went down to them at the brink of the shore. "Are you the

children of Lir?" he said.

 

"We are indeed," said they.

 

"I give thanks to God for that," said he, "for it is for your sakes I am

come to this island beyond any other island, and let you come to land

now," he said, "and give your trust to me, that you may do good deeds

and part from your sins."

 

They came to the land after that, and they put trust in Mochaomhog, and

he brought them to his own dwelling-place, and they used to be hearing

Mass with him. And he got a good smith and bade him make chains of

bright silver for them, and he put a chain between Aodh and Fionnuala,

and a chain between Conn and Fiachra. And the four of them were raising

his heart and gladdening his mind, and no danger and no distress that

was on the swans before put any trouble on them now.

 

Now the king of Connacht at that time was Lairgnen, son of Colman, son

of Cobthach, and Deoch, daughter of Finghin, was his wife. And that was

the coming together of the Man from the North and the Woman from the

South, that Aoife had spoken of.

 

And the woman heard talk of the birds, and a great desire came on her to

get them, and she bade Lairgnen to bring them to her, and he said he

would ask them of Mochaomhog.

 

And she gave her word she would not stop another night with him unless

he would bring them to her. And she set out from the house there and

then. And Lairgnen sent messengers after her to bring her back, and they

did not overtake her till she was at Cill Dun. She went back home with

them then, and Lairgnen sent messengers to ask the birds of Mochaomhog,

and he did not get them.

 

There was great anger on Lairgnen then, and he went himself to the place

Mochaomhog was, and he asked was it true he had refused him the birds.

"It is true indeed," said he. At that Lairgnen rose up, and he took hold

of the swans, and pulled them off the altar, two birds in each hand, to

bring them away to Deoch. But no sooner had he laid his hand on them

than their bird skins fell off, and what was in their place was three

lean, withered old men and a thin withered old woman, without blood or

flesh.

 

And Lairgnen gave a great start at that, and he went