Books: The King of Ireland\'s Son
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Padraic Colum >> The King of Ireland\'s Son
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Cock-o'-the-Walk used to come into the Forge at night and sleep on the
bellows. And when the King of the Cats came back from the feasts he used to
waken up and say to himself," I'm Cock-o'-the-Walk, I'm Cock-o'-the-Walk. The
Cats are not a respectable people."
One noonday there were men in the Forge. They were talking to the Smith. Said
one, "Could you tell us, Smith, where iron came from?" The King of the Cats
knew but he said nothing. Cock-o'-the-Walk came to the door and held his head
as if he were listening.
"I can't tell where iron came from," said the Smith, "but if that Cock could
talk he could tell you. The world knows that the Cock is the wisest and the
most ancient of creatures."
"I'm Cock-o'-the-Walk," said the Cock to a rusty ass's shoe.
"Yes, the Cock is a wonderful creature," said the man who had asked the
question.
"Not wonderful at all," said the King of the Cats, "and if you had asked me I
could have told you where iron came from."
"And where did iron come from?" said the Smith.
"From the Mountains of the Moon," said the King of the Cats.
The men in the Forge put their hands on their knees and looked down at him.
Mahon the hound came into the Forge with other hounds at his tail, and seeing
the men looking at the King of the Cats, Mahon put his nose to him. Cock-o'-
the-Walk flapped his wings insolently. The King of the Cats struck at the red
hanging comb with his paw. The Cock flew up in the air. The King of the Cats
sprang out of the window, and as he did, Mahon and the other hounds sprang
after him--
IV
The King of Ireland's Son rode towards the East the next day, and in the first
hour's journey he saw the blue falcon sailing above. He followed where it went
and the falcon never lifted nor stooped, but sailed steadily on, only now and
again beating the air with its wings. Over benns and through glens and across
moors the blue falcon flew and the King of Ireland's Son followed. Then his
horse stumbled; he could not go any further, and he lost sight of the blue
falcon.
Black night was falling down on the ground when he came back to the King's
Castle. Art, the King's Steward, was waiting for him and he walked beside his
limping horse. And Art said when they were a little way together, "The Coming
of the King of the Cats is a story still to be told.
"To your father's Son in all truth be it told "--
By the magic powers they possessed it was made known to all the cats in the
country that their King was being pursued by the hounds. Then on every
hearthstone a cat howled. Cats sprang to the doors, overturning cradles upon
children. They stood upon the thresholds and they all made the same curse--
"That ye may break your backs, that ye may break your backs before ye catch
the King of the Cats."
When he heard the howls of his vassals, retainers and subjects, the King of
the Cats turned over on his back and clawed at the first hound that came after
him. He stood up then. So firmly did he set himself on his four legs that
those that dashed at him did not overthrow him. He humped up his body and
lifted his forepaws. The hounds held back. A horn sounded and that gave them
an excuse to get away from the claws and the teeth, the power and the
animosity of the King of the Cats.
Then, even though it might cost each and every one of them the loss of an eye,
the cats that had sight of him came running up. "We will go with you, my lord,
we will help you, my lord," they cried all together.
"Go back to the hearthstones," said the King of the Cats. "Go back and be
civil and quiet again in the houses. You will hear of my deeds. I go to find
the tracks of our enemy, the Eagle-Emperor."
When they heard that announcement the cats lamented, and the noise of their
lamentation was so dreadful that horses broke their harnesses where they were
yoked; men and women lost the color of their faces thinking some dreadful
visitation was coming on the land; every bag of oats and rye turned five times
to the right and five times to the left with the fright it got; dishes were
broken, knives were hurled round, and the King's Castle was shaken to the
bottom stone.
"It is not the time to seek the tracks of the Eagle-Emperor," said Quick-to-
Grab. "Stay for a while longer in men's houses."
"Never," said the King of the Cats. "Never will I stay by the hearthstone and
submit to be abused by cocks and hounds and men. I will range the world openly
now and seek out the enemy of the Cat-Kind, the Eagle-Emperor."
Without once turning his back he went towards the wood that was filled with
his enemies, the birds. The cats, when they saw their petitions were no use,
went everyone back to the house where he or she stayed. Each one sat before a
mouse-hole and pretended to be watching. But though mice stirred all round
them the cats of Ireland never turned a head that night.
It was the wren, the smallest of birds, that saw him and knew him for the King
of the Cats. The wren flew through the wood to summon the Hawk-Clan. But it
was towards sunset now and the hawks had taken up their stations at the edge
of the wood to watch that they might pick up the farmers' chickens. They
wouldn't turn an eye when the wren told them that a cat was in the wood during
the time forbidden to cats to be outside the houses of men. "It is the King of
the Cats," said the wren. None of the hawks lifted a wing. They were waiting
for the chickens that would stray about the moment after sunset.
But if the wren couldn't rouse the Hawk-Clan she was able to rouse the other
bird-tribes. "A cat, a cat, on your lives a cat," she called out as she flew
through the wood. The rooks that were going home now rose above the trees,
cawing threats. The blackbirds, thrushes and jays screamed as they flew before
the King of the Cats. The woodpeckers, hedge-sparrows, tom-tits, robins and
linnets chattered as they flew behind him. Sometimes the young rooks made a
great show of attacking him. They flew down from the flock. "He is here, here,
here," they cawed and flew up again. The rooks kept telling themselves and the
other birds in the wood what they were going to do with the King of the Cats.
But a single raven did more against him than the thousand rooks that made so
much noise. This raven was in a hole in the tree. She struck the King of the
Cats on the head with her beak as he went past.
The King of the Cats was annoyed by the uproar the birds were making and he
was angered by the raven's stroke, but he did not want to enter into a battle
with the birds. He was on his way to the house of the Hag of the Wood who was
then known as the Hag of the Ashes. Now as this is the first time you have
heard of the Hag of the Ashes, I'Il have to tell you how the King of the Cats
had heard of her and how he knew where her house was in the wood.
V
The next day the King's Son put a bridle on the Slight Red Steed and rode
towards the East again. He saw the blue falcon and he followed where it flew.
Over benns, and through glens and across mountains and moors the blue falcon
went and the Slight Red Steed neither swerved nor stumbled but went as the
bird flew. The falcon lighted on a pine tree that grew alone. The King's Son
rode up and put his hands to the tree to climb and put his head against it,
and as he did he heard speech from the tree. "The stroke of the Sword of Light
will slay the King of the Land of Mist and the stroke of the Sword of Light
that will cut a tress of her hair will awaken Fedelma." There was no more
speech from the tree and the falcon rose from its branches and flew high up in
the air. Then the King of Ireland's Son rode back towards his father's Castle.
He went to the meadow and stood with Art and listened to what Art had to tell
him. And as before the King's Steward began--
"To your father's Son in all truth be it told"--
Quick-to-Grab had said to the King of the Cats, "If ever you need the counsel
of a human being, go to no one else but the Hag of the Ashes who was once
called the Hag of the Wood. In the very centre of the wood four ash trees are
drawn together at the tops, wattles are woven round these ash trees, and in
the little house made in this way the Hag of the Ashes lives, with no one near
her since her nine daughters went away, but her goat that's her only friend."
The King of the Cats was now in the centre of the wood. He saw four ash trees
drawn together at the tops and he jumped to them.
Now the Hag of the Ashes had a bad neighbor. This was a crane that had built
her nest across the roof of the little house. The nest prevented the smoke
from coming out at the top and the house below was filled with it. The Hag
could hardly keep alive on account of the smoke and she could neither take
away the nest nor banish the bird.
The crane was there when the King of the Cats sprang on the roof. She was
sitting with her two legs stretched out, and when the King of the Cats came
down beside her she slipped away and sailed over the trees. "Time for me to be
going," said the crane. And from that day to this she never came back to the
house of the Hag of the Ashes.
"Oh, thanks to you, good creature," said the Hag of the Ashes, coming out of
the house. "Tear down her nest now and let the smoke rise up through the
roof."
The King of the Cats tore up the sticks and wool that the crane's nest was
made of, and the smoke came up through the top of the house. "Oh, thanks to
you, good creature, that has destroyed the cross crane's nest. Come down on my
floor now and I'll do everything that will serve you."
The King of the Cats jumped down on the floor of the Hag's house and saw the
Hag of the Ashes sitting in a corner, She was a little, little woman in a gray
cloak. All over the floor there were ashes in heaps, for she used to light a
fire in one corner and when it was burnt out light another beside the ashes of
the first. The smoke had never gone through the hole in the roof since the
crane had built her nest on the top of the house. Her face was yellow with the
smoke and her eyes were half closed on account of it.
"Do you know who I am, Hag of the Ashes?" said the King of the Cats when he
stood on the floor.
"You are a cat, honey," said the Hag of the Ashes. "I am the King of the
Cats."
"The King of the Cats you are indeed. And it was you who let the smoke out of
the top of my little house by destroying the nest the cross crane had built on
it."
"It was I who did that."
"Welcome to you then, King of the Cats. And what service can the Hag of the
Ashes do for you in return?"
"I would go to where the Eagle-Emperor is. You must show me the way."
"By my cloak I will do that. The Eagle-Emperor lives on the top of the Hill of
Horns."
"And how can I get to the top of the Hill of Horns?"
"I don't know how you can get there at all. All over the Hill is bare
starvation. No four-footed thing can reach the top--no four-footed thing, I
mean, but my goat that's tied to the hawthorn bush outside."
"I will ride on the back of your goat to the top of the Hill of Horns."
"No, no, good King of the Cats. I have only my goat for company and how could
I bear to be parted from him?"
"Lend me your goat, and when I come back from the Hill of Horns I will plate
his horns with gold and shoe his hooves with silver."
"No, no, good King of the Cats. How could I bear my goat to be away from me,
and I having no other company?"
"If you do not let me ride on your goat to the top of the Hill of Horns I will
leave a sign on your house that will bring the cross crane to build her nest
on the top of it again."
"Then take my goat, King of the Cats, take my goat but let him come back to me
soon."
"I will. Come with me now and bid him take me to the top of the Hill of
Horns."
The King of the Cats marched out of the house and the Hag of the Ashes hobbled
after him. The goat was lying under the hawthorn bush. He put his horns to the
ground when they came up to him.
"Will you go to the Hill of Horns?" said the Hag of the Ashes.
"Indeed, that I will not do," said the goat.
"Oh, the soft tops of the hedges on the way to the Hill of Horns--sweet in the
mouth of a goat they should be," said the Hag of the Ashes. "But my own poor
goat wants to stay here and eat the tops of the burnt-up thistles."
"Why didn't you tell me of the hedges on the way to the Hill of Horns before?"
said the goat, rising to his feet. "To the Hill of Horns I'll go."
"And will you let a cat ride on your back to the Hill of Horns?"
"Indeed, I will not do that."
"Then, my poor goat, I'll not untie the rope that's round your neck, for you
can't go to the Hill of Horns without this cat riding on your back."
"Let him sit on my back then and hold my horns, and I'll take no notice of
him."
The Hag of the Ashes untied the rope that was round his neck, the King of the
Cats jumped up on the goat's back, and they started off on the path through
the wood. "Oh, how I'lI miss my goat, until he comes back to me with gold on
his horns and silver on his hooves," the Hag of the Ashes cried after them.
VI
The King of Ireland's Son did not leave the Castle the next day, but stayed to
question those who came to it about the Sword of Light. And some had heard of
the Sword of Light and some had not heard of it. In the afternoon he was in
the chambers of the Castle and he watched his two foster-brothers, Dermott and
Downal, the sons of Caintigern, the Queen, playing chess. They played the game
upon his board and with his figures. And when he went up to them and told them
they had permission to use the board and the figures, they said, "We had
forgotten that you owned these things." The King's Son saw that everything in
the Castle was coming into the possession of his foster-brothers.
He found another board with other chess-men and he played a game with the
King's Steward. And Art said, "The coming of the King of the Cats into King
Connal's Dominion is a story still to be told.
"To your father's Son in all truth be it told "--
What should a goat do but ramble down laneways, wander across fields, stray
along hedges and stay to rest under shady trees? All this the Hag's goat did.
But at last he brought the King of the Cats to the foot of the Hill of Horns.
And what was the Hill of Horns like, asks my kind foster-child. It was hills
of stones on the top of a hill of stones. Only a goat could foot it from
pebble to stone, from stone to boulder, from boulder Ko crag, and from crag to
mountain-shoulder. It was well and not ill what the Hag's goat did. But then
thunder sounded; lightning struck fire out of the stones, the wind mixed
itself with the rain and the tempest pelted cat and goat. The goat stood on a
mountain-shoulder. The wind rushed up from the bottom and carried the
companions to the top of the Hill of Horns. Down sprang the cat. But the goat
stood on his hind-legs to butt back at the wind. The wind caught him between
the beard and the under-quarters and swept him from the top and down the other
side of the hill (and what happened to the Hag's goat after this I never
heard). The King of the Cats put his claws into the crevices of a standing
stone and held to it with great tenacity. And then, when the wind abated and
he looked across his shoulder, he found that he was standing beside the nest
of the Eagle-Emperor.
It was a hollow edged with rocks, and round that hollow were scattered the
horns of the deer and goats that the Eagle-Emperor had carried off. And in the
hollow there was a calf and a hare and a salmon. The King of the Cats sprang
into the Eagle-Emperor's nest. First he ate the salmon. Then he stretched
himself between the hare and the calf and waited for the Eagle-Emperor.
At last he appeared. Down he came to the nest making circles in the air. He
lighted on the rocky rim. The King of the Cats rose with body bent for the
spring, and if the Eagle-Emperor was not astonished at his appearance it was
because an Eagle can never be astonished.
A brave man would be glad if he could have seen the Eagle-Emperor as he
crouched there on the rock rim of his nest. He spread down his wings till they
were great strong shields. He bent down his outspread tail. He bent down his
neck so that his eyes might look into the creature that faced him. And his
cruel, curved, heavy beak was ready for the stroke.
But the King of the Cats sprang into the air. The Eagle lifted himself up but
the Cat came down on his broad back. The Eagle-Emperor screamed his war-scream
and flew off the hill. He struck at the King of the Cats with the backs of his
broad wings. Then he plunged down. On the stones below he would tear his enemy
with beak and claws.
It was the Cat that reached the ground. As the Eagle went to strike at him he
sprang again and tore the Eagle's breast. Then the Eagle-Emperor caught the
King of the Cats in his claws and flew up again, screaming his battle-scream.
Drops of blood from both fell on the ground. The Eagle had not a conqueror's
grip on his enemy and the King of the Cats was able to tear at him.
It happened that Curoi, King of the Munster Fairies, was marching at the head
of his troop to play a game of hurling with the Fianna of Ireland, captained
by Fergus, and for the hand of Aine', the daughter of Mananaun, the Lord of
the Sea. Just when the ball was about to be thrown in the air the Eagle-
Emperor and the King of the Cats were seen mixed together in their struggle.
One troop took the side of the Eagle and the other took the side of the Cat.
The men of the country came up and took sides too. Then the men began to fight
amongst themselves and some were left dead on the ground. And this went on
until there were hosts of the men of Ireland fighting each other on account of
the Eagle-Emperor and the King of the Cats. The King of the Fairies and the
Chief of the Fianna marched their men away to a hill top where they might
watch the battle in the air and the battles on the ground. "If this should go
on," said Curoi, "our troops will join in and men and Fairies will be
slaughtered. We must end the combat in the air." Saying this he took up the
hurling-ball and flung it at the Cat and Eagle. Both came down on the ground.
The Cat was about to spring, the Eagle was about to pounce, when Curoi darted
between them and struck both with his spear. Eagle and Cat became figures of
stone. And there they are now, a Stone Eagle with his wings outspread and a
Stone Cat with his teeth bared and his paws raised. And the Eagle-Emperor and
the King of the Cats will remain like that until Curoi strikes them again with
his fairy-spear.
When the Cat and the Eagle were turned into stone the men of the country
wondered for a while and then they went away. And the Fairies of Munster and
the Fianna of Ireland played the hurling match for the hand of Aine' the
daughter of Mananaun who is Lord of the Sea, and what the result of that
hurling match was is told in another book.
And that ends my history of the coming into Ire-land of the King of the Cats.
The King of Ireland's Son left Art and went into an unused room in the Castle
to search for a little bell that he might put upon the Slight Red Steed. He
found the little bell, but it fell out of his hand and slipped through a crack
in the floor. He went and looked through the crack. He saw below a room and in
it was Caintigern, the Queen, and beside her were two women in the cloaks of
enchantresses. And when he looked again he knew the two of them--they were
Aefa and Gilveen, the daughters of the enchanter of the Black Back-Lands and
Fedelma's sisters. "And will my two sons come to rule over their father's
dominion?" he heard Caintigern ask.
"The Prince who gains the Sword of Light will rule over his father's
dominion," Aefa said.
"Then one of my sons must get the Sword of Light," Caintigern said. "Tell me
where they must go to get knowledge of where it is."
"Only the Gobaun Saor knows where the Sword of Light is," said Aefa.
"The Gobaun Saor! Can he be seen by men?" said Caintigern.
"He can be seen," said Aefa. "And there is one--the Little Sage of the
Mountain--who can tell what road to go to find the Gobaun Saor."
"Then," said Caintigern, "my two sons, Dermott and Downal, will ride out to-
morrow to find the Little Sage of the Mountain, and the Gobaun Saor, so that
one of them may find the Sword of Light and come to rule over his father's
dominion."
When the King of Ireland's Son heard that, he went to the stable where the
Slight Red Steed was, and put the bridle upon him and rode towards the Hill of
Horns, on one side of which was the house thatched with the one great wing of
a bird, where the Little Sage of the Mountain lived.
The Sword of Light and the Unique Tale With as Much of the Adventures of Gilly
of the Goatskin as is Given in "The Craneskin Book"
I
He came to the house that was thatched with the one great wing of a bird, and,
as before, the Little Sage of the Mountain asked him to do a day's work. The
King's Son reaped the corn for the Little Sage, and as he was reaping it his
two foster-brothers, Dermott and Downal, rode by on their fine horses. They
did not know who the young fellow was who was reaping in the field and they
shouted for the Little Sage of the Mountain to come out of the house and speak
to them. "We want to know where to find the Gobaun Saor who is to give us the
Sword of Light," said Dermott.
"Come in," said the Sage, "and help me with my day's work, and I'll search in
my book for some direction."
"We can't do such an unprincely thing as take service with you," said Downal.
"Tell us now where we must go to find the Gobaun Saor."
"I think you have made a mistake," said the Little Sage. "I'm an ignorant man,
and I can't answer such a question without study."
"Ride on, brother," said Downal, "he can tell us nothing." Dermott and Downal
rode off on their fine horses, the silver bells on their bridles ringing.
That night, when he had eaten his supper, the Little Sage told the King's Son
where to go. It is forbidden to tell where the King of Ireland's Son found the
Builder and Shaper for the Gods. In a certain place he came to where the
Gobaun Saor had set up his forge and planted his anvil, and he saw the Gobaun
Saor beating on a shape of iron.
"You want to find the Sword of Light," said the Gobaun, his eyes as straight
as the line of a sword-blade, "but show me first your will, your mind and your
purpose."
"How can I do that?" said the King of Ireland's Son.
"Guard my anvil for a few nights," said the Gobaun Saor. "A Fua comes out of
the river sometimes and tries to carry it off."
The Gobaun Saor had to make a journey to look at trees that were growing in
the forest, and the King's Son guarded his anvil. And at night a Fua came out
of the river and flung great stones, striving to drive him away from the
anvil. He ran down to the river bank to drive it away, but the creature caught
him in its long arms and tried to drown him in the deep water. The King of
Ireland's Son was near his death, but he broke away from the Fua, and when the
creature caught him again, he dragged it up the bank and held it against a
tree. "I will give you the mastery of all arts because you have mastered me,"
said the Fua. "I do not want the mastery of arts, but maybe you can tell me
where to find the Sword of Light." "You want to know that--do you?" said the
Fua, and then it twisted from him and went into the river.
The Fua came the next night and flung stones as before, and the King's Son
wrestled with it in the very middle of the river, and held him so that he
could not get to the other bank. "I will give you heaps of wealth because you
have mastered me," said the creature with the big eyes and the long arms. "Not
wealth, but the knowledge of where to come on the Sword of Light is what I
want from you," said the King of Ireland's Son. But the Fua twisted from him
and ran away again.
The next night the Fua came again, and the King's Son wrestled with him in the
middle of the river and followed him up the other bank, and held him against a
tree. "I will give you the craft that will make you the greatest of Kings,
because you have mastered me." "Not craft, but knowledge of where the Sword of
Light is, I want from you," said the King's Son. "Only one of the People of
Light can tell you that," said the Fua. It became a small, empty sort of
creature and lay on the ground like a shadow.
The Gobaun Saor came back to his forge and his anvil. "You have guarded my
anvil for me," he said, "and I will tell you where to go for the Sword of
Light. It is in the Palace of the Ancient Ones under the Lake. You have an
enchanted steed that can go to that Lake. I shall turn his head, and he shall
go straight to it. When you come to the edge of the Lake pull the branches of
the Fountain Tree and give the Slight Red Steed the leaves to eat. Mount now
and go."
The King of Ireland's Son mounted the Slight Red Steed and went traveling
again.
II
From all its branches, high and low, water was falling in little streams. This
was the Fountain Tree indeed. He did not dismount, the King of Ireland's Son,
but pulled the branches and he gave them to the Slight Red Steed to eat.
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