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Read books online » Fiction » Gods and Fighting Men by Lady I. A Gregory (novels in english TXT) 📖

Book online «Gods and Fighting Men by Lady I. A Gregory (novels in english TXT) 📖». Author Lady I. A Gregory



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to take it in peace; but if they would not give up that

much, there should be a battle. And he and Sreng said to one another

that whatever might happen in the future, they themselves would be

friends.

 

Sreng went back then to Teamhair and gave the message and showed the

spear; and it is what he advised his people, to share the country and

not to go into battle with a people that had weapons so much better than

their own. But Eochaid and his chief men consulted together, and they

said in the end: "We will not give up the half of the country to these

strangers; for if we do," they said, "they will soon take the whole."

 

Now as to the Men of Dea, when Bres went back to them, and showed them

the heavy spear, and told them of the strong, fierce man he had got it

from, and how sturdy he was and well armed, they thought it likely there

would soon be a battle. And they went back from where they were to a

better place, farther west in Connacht, and there they settled

themselves, and made walls and ditches on the plain of Magh Nia, where

they had the great mountain, Belgata, in their rear. And while they were

moving there and putting up their walls, three queens of them, Badb and

Macha and the Morrigu, went to Teamhair where the Firbolgs were making

their plans. And by the power of their enchantments they brought mists

and clouds of darkness over the whole place, and they sent showers of

fire and of blood over the people, the way they could not see or speak

with one another through the length of three days. But at the end of

that time, the three Druids of the Firbolgs, Cesarn and Gnathach and

Ingnathach, broke the enchantment.

 

The Firbolgs gathered their men together then, and they came with their

eleven battalions and took their stand at the eastern end of the plain

of Magh Nia.

 

And Nuada, king of the Men of Dea, sent his poets to make the same offer

he made before, to be content with the half of the country if it was

given up to him. King Eochaid bade the poets to ask an answer of his

chief men that were gathered there; and when they heard the offer they

would not consent. So the messengers asked them when would they begin

the battle. "We must have a delay," they said; "for we want time to put

our spears and our armour in order, and to brighten our helmets and to

sharpen our swords, and to have spears made like the ones you have. And

as to yourselves," they said, "you will be wanting to have spears like

our Craisechs made for you." So they agreed then to make a delay of a

quarter of a year for preparation.

 

It was on a Midsummer day they began the battle. Three times nine

hurlers of the Tuatha de Danaan went out against three times nine

hurlers of the Firbolgs, and they were beaten, and every one of them was

killed. And the king, Eochaid, sent a messenger to ask would they have

the battle every day or every second day. And it is what Nuada answered

that they would have it every day, but there should be just the same

number of men fighting on each side. Eochaid agreed to that, but he was

not well pleased, for there were more men of the Firbolgs than of the

Men of Dea.

 

So the battle went on for four days, and there were great feats done on

each side, and a great many champions came to their death. But for those

that were alive at evening, the physicians on each side used to make a

bath of healing, with every sort of healing plant or herb in it, the way

they would be strong and sound for the next day's fight.

 

And on the fourth day the Men of Dea got the upper hand, and the

Firbolgs were driven back. And a great thirst came on Eochaid, their

king, in the battle, and he went off the field looking for a drink, and

three fifties of his men protecting him; but three fifties of the Tuatha

de Danaan followed after them till they came to the strand that is

called Traigh Eothaile, and they had a fierce fight there, and at the

last King Eochaid fell, and they buried him there, and they raised a

great heap of stones over his grave.

 

And when there were but three hundred men left of the eleven battalions

of the Firbolgs, and Sreng at the head of them, Nuada offered them

peace, and their choice among the five provinces of Ireland. And Sreng

said they would take Connacht; and he and his people lived there and

their children after them. It is of them Ferdiad came afterwards that

made such a good fight against Cuchulain, and Erc, son of Cairbre, that

gave him his death. And that battle, that was the first fought in

Ireland by the Men of Dea, was called by some the first battle of Magh

Tuireadh.

 

And the Tuatha de Danaan took possession of Teamhair, that was sometimes

called Druim Cain, the Beautiful Ridge, and Liathdruim, the Grey Ridge,

and Druim na Descan, the Ridge of the Outlook, all those names were

given to Teamhair. And from that time it was above all other places, for

its king was the High King over all Ireland. The king's rath lay to the

north, and the Hill of the Hostages to the north-east of the High Seat,

and the Green of Teamhair to the west of the Hill of the Hostages. And

to the north-east, in the Hill of the Sidhe, was a well called Nemnach,

and out of it there flowed a stream called Nith, and on that stream the

first mill was built in Ireland.

 

And to the north of the Hill of the Hostages was the stone, the Lia

Fail, and it used to roar under the feet of every king that would take

possession of Ireland. And the Wall of the Three Whispers was near the

House of the Women that had seven doors to the east, and seven doors to

the west; and it is in that house the feasts of Teamhair used to be

held. And there was the Great House of a Thousand Soldiers, and near it,

to the south, the little Hill of the Woman Soldiers.

 

CHAPTER II. (THE REIGN OF BRES)

But if Nuada won the battle, he lost his own arm in it, that was struck

off by Sreng; and by that loss there came troubles and vexation on his

people.

 

For it was a law with the Tuatha de Danaan that no man that was not

perfect in shape should be king. And after Nuada had lost the battle he

was put out of the kingship on that account.

 

And the king they chose in his place was Bres, that was the most

beautiful of all their young men, so that if a person wanted to praise

any beautiful thing, whether it was a plain, or a dun, or ale, or a

flame, or a woman, or a man, or a horse, it is what he would say, "It is

as beautiful as Bres." And he was the son of a woman of the Tuatha de

Danaan, but who his father was no one knew but herself.

 

But in spite of Bres being so beautiful, his reign brought no great good

luck to his people; for the Fomor, whose dwelling-place was beyond the

sea, or as some say below the sea westward, began putting tribute on

them, the way they would get them under their own rule.

 

It was a long time before that the Fomor came first to Ireland; dreadful

they were to look at, and maimed, having but one foot or one hand, and

they under the leadership of a giant and his mother. There never came to

Ireland an army more horrible or more dreadful than that army of the

Fomor. And they were friendly with the Firbolgs and content to leave

Ireland to them, but there was jealousy between them and the Men of Dea.

 

And it was a hard tax they put on them, a third part of their corn they

asked, and a third part of their milk, and a third part of their

children, so that there was not smoke rising from a roof in Ireland but

was under tribute to them. And Bres made no stand against them, but let

them get their way.

 

And as to Bres himself, he put a tax on every house in Ireland of the

milk of hornless dun cows, or of the milk of cows of some other single

colour, enough for a hundred men. And one time, to deceive him, Nechtan

singed all the cows of Ireland in a fire of fern, and then he smeared

them with the ashes of flax seed, the way they were all dark brown. He

did that by the advice of the Druid Findgoll, son of Findemas. And

another time they made three hundred cows of wood with dark brown pails

in place of udders, and the pails were filled with black bog stuff. Then

Bres came to look at the cows, and to see them milked before him, and

Cian, father of Lugh, was there. And when they were milked it was the

bog stuff that was squeezed out; and Bres took a drink of it thinking it

to be milk, and he was not the better of it for a long time.

 

And there was another thing against Bres; he was no way open-handed, and

the chief men of the Tuatha de Danaan grumbled against him, for their

knives were never greased in his house, and however often they might

visit him there was no smell of ale on their breath. And there was no

sort of pleasure or merriment in his house, and no call for their poets,

or singers, or harpers, or pipers, or horn-blowers, or jugglers, or

fools. And as to the trials of strength they were used to see between

their champions, the only use their strength was put to now was to be

doing work for the king. Ogma himself, the shining poet, was under

orders to bring firing to the palace every day for the whole army from

the Islands of Mod; and he so weak for want of food that the sea would

sweep away two-thirds of his bundle every day. And as to the Dagda, he

was put to build raths, for he was a good builder, and he made a trench

round Rath Brese. And he used often to be tired at the work, and one

time he nearly gave in altogether for want of food, and this is the way

that happened. He used to meet in the house an idle blind man, Cridenbel

his name was, that had a sharp tongue, and that coveted the Dagda's

share of food, for he thought his own to be small beside it. So he said

to him: "For the sake of your good name let the three best bits of your

share be given to me." And the Dagda gave in to that every night; but he

was the worse of it, for what the blind man called a bit would be the

size of a good pig, and with his three bits he would take a full third

of the whole.

 

But one day, as the Dagda was in the trench, he saw his son, Angus Og,

coming to him. "That is a good meeting," said Angus; "but what is on

you, for you have no good appearance to-day?" "There is a reason for

that," said the Dagda, "for every evening, Cridenbel, the blind man,

makes a demand for the three best bits of my share of food, and takes

them from me." "I will give you an advice," said

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