Celtic Myth

The title pretty much explains it all, but I'll expand anyway. This story is a written in the style of an original Celtic myth (hence the seemingly obscure and unpronouncablenames, they're there to add realism, not confuse you!). Itwas written under a word limit, and the style of mythsareconcise, so it progresses quickly. As with almost all Celtic myths there is an element of darkness to it, and it does not have a happy ending (Read the originals and you'll see what I mean). Anyway, I'll stop boring you now. I hope you enjoy it, and please review, I'd love to know what you think!

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In Maebheaica, near the settlement of Damnoni, before Ireland became a country of counties and separation, lived Dubheasa. She was the daughter of Malloy, who ruled the realm. She was the loveliest lady to be found in Ireland, her name itself meaning ‘Dark Beauty’ due to her soft dark skin, radiant black hair and shining raven’s eyes.

For the past four years she had been betrothed to marry Gairbith, and on the sunset of her birthday of the fifth year they were due to wed. Gairbith was a strong and powerful warrior, and gave hard punishment to all those who rose against him. His name itself meant ‘rough peace’, and it was in this fashion that he had helped to keep an uneasy peace throughout Ireland, all Celts fearing his infamous temper.

All that is, except for one. Seireadan lived in a remote part of Ireland, hunting the wild boar to feed the family and rarely venturing to the towns and villages. He lived with his mother, Buan, and his sister, Fainche.

On her birthday of the fourth year Dubheasa approached her father. Long ago a geiss had been placed upon him, so he always had to fulfil his daughter’s second request if he refused the first. To not do so would bring about his downfall.

“Father.” She spoke softly to the wise King. “I wish to travel alone to the coast, sail to the Island of the Mighty and return for my marriage in a year’s time. It is my intention to understand what it is like to work before I become a wife and a mother. I request your permission.” Her father rose from his mighty throne.

“The seas are fierce at this time of year my daughter.” He replied. “I cannot grant this request, no matter the reason behind it.” Dubheasa pondered this for a moment and spoke again.

“Then I wish to see a home in the most remote area of Ireland and learn to live as they do for my last year of freedom. This request you cannot deny me.” Her father lowered his head solemnly and spoke again.

“I shall find for you this home. One year from today shall I return to bring you home for marriage.” And so the arrangements began, and scouts were sent all across Ireland, from the desolate peaks to the thick forests. After a wearying journey a scout stumbled across the camp of Seireadan and his family. The strong young man sat beside the fire in the centre of his camp, roasting the meat of a wild boar. The scout approached him.

“What is your name?” The scout asked the youth.

“Seireadan.”

“How many others live in this camp?”

“Only my mother, Buan, my sister, Fainche, and myself.”

“Is your sister as youthful as yourself?”

“She is four years more.”

“I am Scolaighe, herald of Malloy. His daughter wishes to learn the arts of rustic life for one year, and Malloy has sent me to find a home in which her ideas could be fostered. May I suggest your camp?”

“A suggestion is different to advising, do you wish to advise or suggest?” Scolaighe hung his head at this blunt insight to his plans.

“I shall advise the King that there is a camp with a girl of his daughter’s age, a mother and a strong, capable son. Yours is a camp which will suit his daughter.”

“Then advise him of such, his daughter is welcome here.”

So Scolaighe returned to the court and told the King about the camp. His was a recommendation to prove fatal. The next morning, as the sun lit the hills of Ireland a burnished gold, Dubheasa left her home, dressed in a heavy cape of black sheepskin. Scolaighe took her to the camp where Fainche, a petite girl of skin darkened by labours in the sun and hair lightened in her toils, sat beside the fire heating a bucket of water from the roasting spit. She looked over at the girl in her jewelled gown, hidden beneath a heavy cloak. She lowered her head to the ground and Dubheasa walked over to her.

“Why do you watch the floor?” The girl spoke, but did not raise her head.

“It is in respect to your royalty.”

“For the next year I am no more royal than your gracious self.” Dubheasa replied. “What is your name?”

“I am Fainche.” Dubheasa smiled.

“Your very name itself means free. That is my wish above all other things. To be free of the shackles to which royal blood binds me.” The girl raised her head and looked at Dubheasa.

“Surely royalty fulfils all desires you could have?” In a deadpan voice, yet with a troubled heart, Dubheasa gave her frank reply.

“Would I be here if that was so?” She turned to Scolaighe and sent him away and then turned her attention back to her hostess. Fainche took her to a modest tent, Spartan in its apparel and allowed her to make it comfortable for her stay. After an hour of organisation and relaxation Dubheasa stepped outside the tent, only to see a handsome youth of labour-hardened stature, and bronzed skin. His hair was a gleaming auburn and his roughened hands were forcing a boar onto the roasting spit. He looked over to her, but unlike his sister his head remained level with hers.

“You must be our regal guest.” He smiled. Dubheasa noticed an old woman with deep laughter lines around her aged eyes. She turned her attention to her. Before Dubheasa could speak, the woman introduced her family.

“I am Buan, mother of the two you see here. Fainche you have met, and the bold youth is Seireadan. I welcome you to our home on behalf of all here.” Dubheasa crouched in front of the sitting woman and took her hands in her own.

“I thank you for your hospitality. Your name itself means goodness and goodness is obviously embodied in you.” The family sat down together around their fire, joined by their royal guest, and ate and spoke together for many hours. The more they spoke, the more Dubheasa began to love the little wild company, and the more her affection grew for the daring son.

Over the next month Dubheasa was taught the basics of their rural life. Fainche taught her how to skin animals and make warm clothes and extra patches for their tents with the hide. Buan taught her the stories and songs of her family, and how to stop the fire from going out. Seireadan was rarely in the camp, but when there he taught her how to cook the raw animals, and which parts they should never eat.

One day, Dubheasa went with Fainche to collect water from the nearby stream. Before they began their work, she took Fainche’s arm.

“Where does your brother go during the day?” She asked her.

“He hunts.” Replied Fainche.

“Does he hunt far from the camp? For I have never seen any animals besides hares nearby.”

“There is a forest not so far away, he hunts there.” Dubheasa ran these words through her mind and released her hold on Fainche’s arm.

“I wish to learn to hunt.” She spoke decisively.

“I do not know if he will allow it, but as you wish.”

Whilst they filled their pails Dubheasa saw a strange black raven sitting on a crag not far off. It seemed to have a beak of silver and a breast of gold. She felt a strange pang of recognition towards the bird. When she stood to look closer at the creature it rose from its perch and flew away. Little did the girl know that the raven was Amblaoibh, Gairbith’s advisor, and a wizard. He had been watching her everyday of her stay, under Gairbith’s instruction. He flew to the warrior and told him about Dubheasa’s plan to go hunting with Seireadan.

“You must watch all the more devotedly whilst she is with the boy.” He ordered his wizard. Amblaoibh agreed to his masters demand, though believed his jealously was overpowering him, a jealously which had been ever-present since his betrothed had chosen to leave for the year.

That evening, when Seireadan returned to the camp from his hunt, Dubheasa was waiting. She told him that she desired to accompany him on his hunts. He argued fiercely with her, but she was just as tenacious as he, and finally he relented.

“Be ready at dawn tomorrow.” He told her. “I will come to your tent to collect you.”

At dawn the next morning Seireadan went to Dubheasa’s tent. Dressed in hunters’ leather he took her with him to the forest which Fainche had mentioned. Seireadan taught Dubheasa how to walk quietly through the undergrowth and they became so engrossed with their task that neither noticed the raven that silently stalked them.

The next day Seireadan taught Dubheasa how to cut and sharpen wood to make into spears. Again they became so engrossed in their task that neither noticed the raven that watched.

The next day Seireadan taught Dubheasa how to throw the spears she had made the day before. She quickly picked up the skill and again they became so absorbed with the task that the raven went unnoticed.

The following day Seireadan showed Dubheasa how to track animals through the forest. Again their attention was occupied, again the raven was not noted.

The more time the two spent together, the more they grew closer. Dubheasa was very fond of Seireadan, and realised that she was falling in love with him. Seireadan knew that he had already fallen in love with Dubheasa, but as he had promised to be her host for the year, did not dare to take advantage of the situation. Many more months passed, and Dubheasa decided that she did not wish to return to the royal life she had previously occupied, and above all did not wish to marry Gairbith.

Whilst hunting with Seireadan several months into her stay, she decided that she had to break her silence.

“I do not wish to return to my life.” Seireadan was shocked.

“Why so?” he asked her.

“I do not wish to marry Gairbith. I am in love with you.” Seireadan was again shocked.

“Then stay.” Dubheasa realised that he was unaware of Gairbith’s power in Ireland.

“Gairbith will kill you if I do.”

Unheeded by the two hunters, Amblaoibh heard all they spoke, and listened intently as they hatched a plan to escape and sail to the Island of the Mighty, where the threat of Gairbith held no sway. He swiftly flew back to Gairbith and reported the lovers plan. Gairbith was furious and told Amblaoibh to bewitch a wild boar so that it would kill Seireadan. Amblaoibh did as he was requested, and watched as a maddened boar crashed through the undergrowth towards the two. Seireadan heard the noise and turned towards it. He raised his spear and as the boar raced towards him, foam flying from its lips, let fly the spear. It pierced the boar and the bewitched creature fell dead to the floor.

When Amblaoibh reported this to Gairbith he was enraged and ordered him to send a pack of wild dogs to kill Seireadan. Amblaoibh again obliged, and this time six wild dogs raced towards the lovers. Seireadan and Dubheasa fended off the attack, and killed all six dogs, but not before one landed a mortal bite to Seireadan’s throat. He collapsed in Dubheasa’s arms, bleeding to death on the forest floor.

Amblaoibh reported this to Gairbith who was finally content.

Dubheasa remained with her dying lover for so long Buan became worried, and went with Fainche to look for her son and guest. When she found them and Dubheasa recounted the story, Buan was troubled.

“Never before have there been wild dogs in this area.” She told Dubheasa. “This is the work of a sorcerer.” Dubheasa remembered then the silver beaked raven she had seen at the crag. Dubheasa remembered now that Amblaoibh, the advisor of her betrothed, had the power to transform himself to any animal he wished. Seething with fury she determined to get revenge on Gairbith, who she knew had ordered the death of Seireadan.

Dubheasa sent for Scolaighe, and told him to inform her betrothed to come in one weeks time, the day before she was due to return and be married. Scolaighe did as ordered, and Dubheasa waited, grief and fury driving her to solitude for her last week. Finally, Gairbith arrived at the camp.

She greeted him fondly, hiding her grief inside. With feigned tenderness she led him into her tent and sat him on her bed.

“How has the last year treated my beloved?” He asked her.

“The good has matched the bad.” She replied softly. “But let us not talk of me; there will be time for that later. You must be tired from your journey.”

“A little.” He agreed.

“Let me tend to you.” She took a bowl of water and began to wash his hands with a rag. “Has your year been prosperous?” She asked him.

“Quite so.” The powerful man replied.

“Have you defeated any enemies?” She continued to wash his hands, moving onto the next.

“There have been no enemies to defeat my lady.” Dubheasa paused and looked in his eyes. She moved behind him and began to wash his neck.

“Your deceit has grown my lord, never before could you lie so evenly.” Gairbith gasped, for he knew what she was speaking of.

“You defeated one enemy this year my lord, for I watched his defeat. Now his only ally shall defeat you.” Gairbith made to turn but before he could move Dubheasa plunged Seireadan’s hunting knife into his neck. He fell forward, and Dubheasa watched, proud and beautiful as she ever was, as he choked and the blood left his body.

“Goodbye my lord.” She whispered. Gairbith’s breathing ceased, and the fury which had been powering Dubheasa’s heart dissipated. She now felt only the grief of her dead lover, and her heart broke with the pain of her sorrow.

Buan entered the tent to find the two dead on the floor. She removed Dubheasa’s body from the tent and laid it upon a thick rug beside the fire. She then called Fainche to her and the two women struggled to throw unclean Gairbith’s body into the fire. They then waited together for the King to return for his daughter.

The dawn broke red that day, and to such Malloy did return to the camp. It was with a heavy heart he returned his daughter home, not for marriage, but for burial.