Chapter 20 A Trouble Shared...

 

Chapter 20 A Trouble Shared…

In which there is a death and a disappearance and we meet Ireland’s last bear.


Lugh pulled Leah to a halt before the fomorian fleet and called out “My fellow Fomorians, what has brought you from the other realms seeking death and destruction in the Tír faoin Grían from the Tìr faoi Thonn and Teach Donn? Long ago the harsh taxes and the cruel brutality of your leaders led to a war you could not win. It was only my mercy as the Grandson of Balor that spared your lives or allowed you pleasure and prosperity free from vengeance and retaliation in the other realm.


But now brothers, Queen Maedhbh, herself exiled for her own bloodshed and greed, has broken down the barriers between the worlds and summoned you here. She, for her own ends, has nursed a false sense of injustice in your hearts and told you lies about how easy a return to Eriu would be. Balor has fallen and returned to the house of Donn. Your new leader Bres, though he be my own kin, is sorely misguided and a vain pretender. He will lead you only to disaster and certain death.


Be it known to all from your leader to the least of you, that this land is under my protection as well as the protection of the Sidhe.

Where there is truth there can be no lie. Here is the truth I swear. You will not make landfall nor set foot on the land that the De Danann protect. Yet it is not too late for you..The pathways between the worlds lie open still for your safe return. There is honour in being wise. This is the moment of decision and it is only for you to decide your fate.


Truly I am called the Ildana, the master of all crafts, so it is not without knowledge that I implore you to turn back, to save yourselves and return to whence you came and all will be as before. Maedhbh alone will have to pay the eiric fine for your crimes.”


With that Bres stepped to the prow of the foremost ship and called across the water,

“Brother, how honeyed and sweet your words and how unlike your deeds at Moytura.

We had need of your counsel, your craft and your courage but where were they? They were given instead to our sworn enemies the dreaded De Dannan. Nine times nine companies of our people fell that day at Moytura. Nuada and his armies broke our power and all our dead were burned unmourned and unrevenged. You, Lugh, chose the side of the Sidhe then and now you want to call us brothers.


Balor showed me how cavilling and cowardly, the men of Eriu turned out to be when faced with the determination of our warlike nation. You may stand on water but you stand alone. We will not like snivelling cowards retreat in the face of your airy words and cheap magic tricks. Against the concert of the Fomorian fleet you lack the power to stop us.


Not without thought were our plans laid. Well aware are we of how you draw your power from the sun. But now it is midnight and our time, for the hour of darkness is at hand, a darkness that can never be dispelled, dispersed or defeated. You have no power here. Stand aside or take the pathway to the other world yourself where you will be spared. There is no place for you here anymore. Flee or die.”


With that Lugh pointed his long golden lance at the full moon. “Brother,” he called “you have left me my lunar shield.” With that he raised a moonstone in his hand. The full moon turned red and then bright gold. A powerful light like a searchlight flooded over Lugh illuminating him till he glowed golden all over and until he became hard to look at. Then Lugh dipped his lance in the waters and gave this powerful incantation.

Ard-Rí na mara, eist lem guí, déan pairc na catha as tonnta na hOiche,

Reo gach báid le oighear ina slí, Thar tonnta ‘s uisce tabhair Complacht na Sidhe.


(High King of the Sea, hear my plea, Make of the night’s waves a battlefield.

Freeze every boat with ice in its way, o’er water and wave bring the Host of the Sidhe)


Upon these words an icy wind blew and the sea about immediately became a thick ice of great depth both white and hard. Each Fomorian boat was stuck fast in the ice and the oars could not break the surface. Indeed some were stuck so fast that they splintered when the fomorians tried to move them.


Then from the distant shoreline a shout went up of Lugh’s name and the pounding of many armed and armoured warriors was heard making their way across the ice. First came a line of charging cavalry mounted on swift grey fleet footed connemara ponies. The Sidhe warriors wore bright silver steel armour and carried sword and shield, lance and slingshot. Their slung stones found their mark levelling the first fomorians who were streaming out of the boats onto the ice. They raced around the fixed boats as the fomorians tried to hide their unprotected heads from the deadly stones. Huddled behind their shields the fomorians flung spears at the horsemen till many a horse and rider crashed wounded onto the ice.


Next came a line of spearmen charging in companies of ten or twenty at the hundreds of fomorians huddled around their boats. The fomorians tried to get through the long jabbing and slicing spears to the Sidhe at the other end but the spearmen leapt back out of the range of the shorter swords, axes and maces. Here or there one or other of the Sidhe were swarmed and hacked to the ice but far greater were the numbers of fomorians who lay motionless and bleeding staining the ice with their blood.


Then the Sidhe drew their Claiomh Móir claymores, long silver broadswords the length of a man’s body and the two armies engaged in a battle so bitter and so intense that the forces of silver and black struggled like waves of silver crashing on an ebony shore or as when black storm clouds are lit by lightning or when night and day contend in the drama of some cataclysmic eclipse.


At a moment when all was in the balance, giving a signal, Lugh himself came galloping straight between his parting forces and driving at the crowded throng of warriors surrounding Bres. His face was grim and his jewelled sword scythed in the fray levelling his enemies and decapitating the nearest fomorian warriors.


Standing upright on his saddle he gave Leah a druidical command and she leapt high over axes and swords from the ring of one hundred fomorians surrounding their new leader Bres. Lugh himself performed the Salmon Leap and landed before Bres who stood snarling in the midst of his troops.

Nothing daunted Bres shouted “stand back for Lugh is mine and mine alone.” He then drew his rapier and both royal princes clashed against each other with a deep hatred burning in their eyes.


Their swords flashed back and forth so fast the eye could barely follow them.When they clashed blue flames crackled from their magical protections. At times Bres seemed to gain the upper hand especially when a dark and poisoned dagger appeared in his left hand as if by magic. Lugh however fought with a fluid grace and could so twist and turn his blade that even with two weapons Bres could not break through his defense to mark or wound him.


Bres began to show signs of tiring first and growing desperate,lashed out a kick with his boot that connected with Lugh’s hip. Lugh fell heavily down on one knee. Bres saw his opening and jabbed at Lugh’s unguarded neck with the rapier. A stream of founting blood sprayed from Lugh’s opened vein. Straight away Lugh came up inside Bres’ wild lunge and drove his sword upwards deep inside Bres’s chest. For a moment the two half brothers stared into each other's eyes before Bres’ eyes softly closed and Lugh rested his head gently on his shoulder. At once the fomorians gave up a great lament seeing their leader beaten. Then cradling his half brother in his arms Lugh sank to his knees and he recited this song.




“Prince of Night, Lover of dark

Return to lands beyond and hark,

I take no joy in killing you,

My oath I keep but deeply rue


My elder and my better half

Who taught me how to sing and laugh

Now must lie in coldest earth

No song or sound but only dearth


Bres the brave and noble youth

You died for glory not for truth

Your soul at last is free to roam

In my heart you find your home.


My only friend when I was child

What made you hate, what made you wild

May my love for you increase

You died in war, I live for Peace.”


And with these words the fomorians threw down their weapons. All across the ice the fighting ceased . A red cloud arranged itself across the moon like a red veil colouring the night red. The fomorians came silently over to Lugh and gently took Bres from him. They then formed up in a procession and bearing him on their shoulders carried him to their ships.


Lugh remounted Leah and touching the ice with his golden lance caused it to steam, bubble and melt freeing the fomorian fleet who sailed away due North East with oar and sail punctuated only by the beating of their slow and funeral drums.

The Sidhe for their part formed up in companies and turning around, carrying their dead, they retired to the shoreline and thence to their fortresses beneath the hills and drumlins of the land. None were to see their passing for a mist covered them from every eye and ear in their silent passing.





Maedhbh was incandescent when she saw the fomorian fleet sailing away from Howth and heading out to the North Atlantic returning to Iceland and the Tír faoi Tonn from which she had liberated them. “Faint hearted indeed are the fomorians to turn again and return to their confinement. Is there no-one I can rely on? Must I do everything myself?”


With that there was a sudden rush of air as Cúan sailed over the battlements with his spear trick and landed across from Maedhbh and Alex on the roof of the tower. There was a great change in him in confidence and poise. He even gave a bow to Maedhbh as if completing a formal ritual. He carried a shield with a dark device on it , the Gaebolg was in his right hand and he wore the Tarnhelm on his head.

Addressing the queen he spoke, “Hail to you proud Queen of Connaught, far from the lands that are yours in search again of that to which you have no right.”

Alex strode over in front of Maedhbh and held up the Claiomh Solais in the guard position. “Keep behind me Maedhbh, I owe Cúan here a lesson from the school yard and I’ll soon put him out of his misery.”

Maedhbh hissed and said “Amadán, does that sound like Cúan Cullen to you? That is the warrior of light; that is a voice and tone I recognise well.Cúchulainn reveal yourself.”

Cúan turned his face toward the light set high on a post. There was a glitter in his eye and a thrust in his jaw Alex had never seen before. When he spoke Alex noted that the tone of his voice was lower than usual. “Not for the first time do we meet and yet despite all your warriors sent to kill me, here I stand. I have defeated Fergus Mac Roîch, I have defeated Balor of the Mighty Blows. I have come to bring you before the Sidhe to decide your fate. To resist me will mean certain death. How does my Lady now?”


There was a long pause before Maedhbh replied and when she did there was a manic edge to her voice. Unsheathing her sword the Morallta she pointed it at Cúan and uttered these words. “I curse you hound of Ulster and all of your line. Down through the ages I have waited for my revenge, desiring to make you suffer for humiliating me and my warriors. You are bound by your oath to demonstrate cleanliness of heart, which you did in sparing Alex’s life, strength of limb which you needed according to my messenger Preachán in destroying Balor from this world. But now you must demonstrate whether you can keep your word in deciding all things according to the light. You must decide what price you will pay to defend the light from my final champion. Warrior of darkness step forth!”


With that there was a tramp of solid feet upon the stairs and rising up out of the darkness came a knight clad all in the blackest of armour. He carried a black shield with a winged blackbird on it. His right hand went out and took the legendary Morallta from Maedhbh. Beneath the helmet a voice spoke “Hello Cúan, I serve Maedhbh now. Prepare to die.” Raising his visor Cúan was alarmed to see the prescription glasses and the pale face of his best friend, Ferdy Ferguson.






Philly had arrived at the old fishing vessel only to find the five lamp boys trying to start it without the key. Noddy Grundy was experimenting with a thin screwdriver jammed into the keyhole. They were all packed in the wheelhouse looking cold and afraid. The last thing anyone of them wanted was to be there. For once Philly realised that they were of one mind with him, to escape and get as far away from Maedhbh as was humanly possible. He waved the key at them provocatively and said “is this what ye are looking for?”


They looked afraid and never one to miss out on an opportunity Philly took them to the cleaners. “Right you snivelling lot, if you want off the island and back to yer mammies I am opening up a golden opportunity and one time only offer. Hand over yer cash , phones watches, ipads, ipods and anything of value for the fare over to Malahide and away from Maedhbh.


Spitzy Spillane looked at him and said “How do we know that we can trust you?” “You can’t ,” sneered Philly “ but it just so happens I’m going that way so it suits me to let you lot come, once there is something in it for me of course. The five lamp boys glumly handed over the loot and Philly gathered it all up in a plastic bin bag before taking over the bridge, starting up the engine and easing the boat out to the northern end of the island chugging off into the darkness bound for the coast and escape from Maedhbh, the authorities and anyone else coming after him. There was a secret stash of cash and a gun in a lockup near Swords that would give him a good head start.





Dermot was trapped in a situation of his own making. Inspector Callan knew him alright and try as he might to bring Callan in by all means he couldn’t just shoot him in cold blood. Even if he could Carl was counting on the probability that the moment he was struck by Dermot’s bullet he would involuntarily spasm and pull the glock’s trigger effectively killing the tall woman tied to the chair. Time was running out and in the confined space of the tower he would be trapped. To add to his problems he heard stealthy footsteps coming pattering up the stairs behind him. Philly must be coming back! He backed away from the stair entrance so that whoever came in would shield him from Callan’s gun. If he could capture them they would be a shield and at least they would have a hostage each. He wasn’t sure if Callan would dare kill Philly if Maedhbh had gone to such trouble to free him.


A male figure came through the doorway and Dermot jammed the gun in his back shouting “Freeze!” The man was tall with a white crew cut haircut. It was his father, Manus.

Callan laughed “Ah Dermot you can’t be hiding behind your own father.” His Glock swung around targeting Dermot’s head. Dermot dived away from Manus to draw the fire but it was too late. The Glock spat its deadly bullet and hit Manus full in the chest. Dermot shouted “Dad” but he had been too slow.The world seemed to decelerate and a heavy shadow blotted out all sound as a shadow of darkness pressed in on Dermot’s temples like a spiritual migraine. Manus hit the floor bleeding heavily and Dermot fired at the leaping Inspector Callan from his prone position on the floor. Callan dived to the doorway leading to the tower and raced up the stairs. He was gone and to pursue him up the curving stairs would be suicide.


Dermot looked over at his father and knew that the wound was fatal. Manus coughed up some blood as Dermot sat him upright against the wall. The father and son looked into each other’s eyes and each saw the bad news reflected in the expressions of the other. “Why did you come back Dad ?” asked Dermot almost whisper soft.“ Manus only shook his head and said, “Why would any father not come back except to try and help his son in danger? I’ve only made things worse.” “No, no you saved me Dad. He had me stuck when he had this Scátha covered. Now he’s trapped above with only one way out.” Manus coughed up some more blood and leaned his head back against the wall. “Well I am as glad to go this way, shot like a soldier rather than the long slow death of cancer. There is a dignity too, in taking the bullet so that you are okay.. You will have to live to tell Gráinne and Aoibheann how much I love them. And Cúan, you have to save him. He may be this warrior of the light but he's still just a boy, a boy who needs his father.“


With that Sgt. Major Manus Cullen of the Irish Army (Retired) slumped over and died. Dermot held his father’s body in his arms and understood the ancient irish tradition of keening , Caoineadh na Mná, the wailing of the women to mark the passing of a life.

Inside he had felt torn between the pressing desire to mourn his father and the anxiety to follow Carl Cullen up to the top of the tower, not only to make him pay for his shooting of an unarmed man but also to protect Cúan who was above surrounded by his enemies Maedhbh, Alex O’Leary and now Carl Callan and his deadly Glock.

Scátha looked over at him and called to him, ”I know you Cullen, you are Cúan’s father and that man too is known to me, he was Cúan’s grandfather. He died saving you. He gave his life as a soldier must, dying unwillingly but for something worthwhile.”

Dermot stared at her,observing her wound, and asked “Are you the one who freed my daughter Aoibheann, are you Scátha?“

“I am Scátha the shadow warrior woman of Skye. I freed Aoibheann and guarded her escape. I am glad to undermine Queen Maedhbh’s evil plans. I was the one who tried to prepare Cúan for the ordeal he faces as the warrior of the light. I administered his oath. It is not the warrior way to take innocents hostage nor seek to obliterate a family line of an enemy.

Here Scátha looked over to Dermot by way of appeal. “You must act swiftly. I can only transform into the wolfhound you saw on the bog of Allen if there is no metal within me. You will find a slender sharp black knife hidden in my right boot. You must cut the bullet out of me so that I can take the shape of my animal form. Then we can take the stairs to help Cúan. Going up alone is suicide but with my speed as the hound I can take Callan down fast and you can get to Maedhbh.”

Laying Manus down after gently closing his eyes, Dermot went over and retrieved the knife from Scátha’s boot. Then he went to cut her bonds. “Don’t ,” she warned “if I should transform while you are digging out that bullet, my animal self might attack you. Wait till the bullet is out before you free me.”

Dermot dug the knife in the wound probing for the bullet and Scátha turned even paler still, gripped the chair with whitened knuckles, threw back her head and howled!





Cúan took up the warrior’s stance with his shield held high the Gaebolg protruding from the right side of the shield and his eyes level with the top of the shield studying his opponents. The Tarnhelm glittered on his head. Then to him they seemed to freeze.To Alex, Carl, Maedhbh and Ferdy he seemed to blur for just a second but inside Cúan a struggle of sorts was taking place.


From the moment the Gaebolg leapt from the water into his hand Cúan had become aware that he was not quite alone. Another consciousness far older and more full of authority had tried to direct his movements and control his decisions. It was his ancestor Cúchulainn who had returned to him within the Gaebolg. Now faced with Maedhbh and more especially Ferdy a debate was raging between them. It ran something like this:


Cúan: Why has the world stopped and why is everyone frozen?

Cúchulainn: I have asked a favour of the Goddess Danú and she has granted us this time to meet and to decide what must be done.

Cúan: You are the Legendary Cúchulainn, aren’t you? What are you doing here?

Cúchulainn: I am here in Spirit only. My body died many years ago at that standing stone because of Maedhbh’s magic and spells. It is your body that must face the enemy.

Cúan: How can I defeat them? It is three against one now and I don’t know if my shield can stop a bullet.

Cúchulainn: Greatly I fear to advise you.Your world seems strange to me like a bad dream with loud noises and strange fires all around. Three words of advice I will give you, warrior of the light.The first is that the heart of your opponent is more important than the weapons he holds. By that measure your most deadly opponent is Maedhbh and your least dangerous is Ferdy, your enchanted friend. The second piece of advice is that you hold the Gaebolg and the Tarnhelm. The first will never miss the target it is thrown at while the second gives you speed and hides you from sight except from magic. The last piece of advice is that you cannot kill the innocent. Maeve and Alex and Ferdy are all bewitched with blood magic and so are innocent. You must incapacitate them first and drive Maedhbh’s evil out. I once killed my best friend Ferdia and even though I won that battle I lost my soul in that moment. Do not make the same mistake. Now I will withdraw into the Gaebolg.Trust yourself...

And with that there was a silence and Cúan found himself facing Maedhbh and her cronies on the roof again.


“Now Warrior,” cried Maedhbh “a fine spider’s trap of my own making faces you. To defeat my magic you must defeat three of the warriors of the darkness. Yet your own geasa or oath of the warrior means you must make all your decisions with a pure heart. If you fight your best friend whom I have bewitched and kill him you will have betrayed your oath and I win. If you do not fight him and kill him he will defeat you and I win. Whichever way you choose I win. Surrender to do my will and give me the Spear of the warrior of the light and I will spare your friend. Of course I will spare you.”


Cúan replied “in the moment I grasped the Gaebolg and you first saw me I saw you too. I saw your image from the otherworld threaten me and my family. I know your ways are the ways of lies and of turning all good things into bad. In this place and this time I would rather give my life than to let you rule here again.”


The snakes from Maedhbh’s shoulders arose and hissed venomously. She clapped her hands summoning a vast cloud of crows that circled cawing all around . “The game is set. All that remains is for the warrior of darkness to defeat the warrior of light and take this world as my own.”



Ferdy swung the Morallta “great slaughterer” right handed at the edge of the shield Dubhtach. The clang produced was a low shivering ringing sound. Cúan cast the Gaebolg high in the air making his wish clear to it and placing both hands behind his shield shoved Ferdy back physically. Ferdy tumbled into Alex who pushed him upright again.


Alex swung the Claiomh Solais at Cúan who, nothing daunted, jumped up five feet in the air and ran along the blade of the Claiomh Solais as the heroic Scátha had taught him. An amazed Alex could only stare as a foot swung and connected with his head knocking him out. Cúan reached out his right hand and snatched the Gaebolg from the air with three dead crows impaled along its length. “Right,”he growled “who’s next?”


Just then a shot rang out below and Maedhbh laughed “see warrior, Inspector Callan has just killed your tutor Scátha, soon you will be all alone and against the bullets he shall bring your tricks shall not avail.”


Ferdy fell upon Cúan again and whatever enchantment Maedhbh had him under did not diminish his speed and agility, his tactics nor his thinking. Blow by blow, thrust and slash Cúan felt himself being driven back to the wall so relentless and unrestrained were Ferdy’s strokes. Cúan began to realise that Ferdy’s intelligence and inventiveness made him dangerously unpredictable and forced Cúan to take stroke after stroke always defending, never being able to have time to formulate an attack. Then one of Ferdy’s swift strokes broke through his guard and slashed his side.


The pain was unbelievable. Great gouts of blood were leaking from his wound and still Ferdy’s frenzied attack hammered away at his defenses.”Ferdy,” he begged, “it’s me Cúan fight against Maedhbh’s magic. You don’t want to kill me. I’m your best friend.” Ferdy’s voice coldly repeated the words he had heard earlier. “Hello Cúan, I serve Maedhbh now. Prepare to die.”


Cúan remembered he was supposed to be visualizing how to beat Maedhbh but all he could think of was to hurl the Gaebolg, the weapon that never missed its target and once it hit, never failed to kill them. Then he felt a strange rage bubbling up inside him: all the anger at Medhbh’s hatred for him and his family, all the fears and doubts that he was an imposter, a mere child in a situation too big for him, all the ravages that life makes of the tortured teenage heart, every love lost and friendship betrayed all surged up in him like a waterfall of tumbling emotion and he screamed a loud battle cry. “Nooooo!”


The crows scattered and Ferdy poised for just a second, a precious second that allowed Cúan to think and go on the attack. He shouted “Okkulte” and disappeared from view. In the shadow world of the Tarnhelm where everything looked monochrome in black and white he slid down low ducking under a scything blow from Ferdy that surely would have decapitated him.


At that moment Inspector Carl Callan ran up the stairs, pistol in hand and looked around.

“Shoot him, Shoot him” yelled Maedhbh pointing at where Cúan had been a moment before. Callan looked but could find no target. The next thing Cúan did was give Ferdy a shoulder that sent him sprawling into Maedhbh. She whipped out her wand and held it aloft chanting “Taispeain an Óglach agus an Gaebolg Seóideach” He was revealed in a wave of green light that flooded the rooftop. Carl Callan fired instantly.

The next thing Cúan knew was the Gaebolg flashing before him at lightning speed to deflect the bullet.

Callan thumbed the Glock to automatic fire and took aim again only to be thrown down by the attack of a huge grey wolfhound that came bounding up the stairs and bit deep into his arm that held the Glock. Down they went man and hound rolling around on the floor of the tower to yells and growling as Scátha swung her powerful neck back and forth shaking Callan’s gun hand like some vermin caught by a terrier. The gun clattered to the ground. Alex shook himself, pounced on the gun, grabbed it and aimed at the wolfhound.


“Choose your next move very carefully because it could be your last!” Came the cool, calm voice of Cúan’s father Dermot as up from the stairwell he came following after Scátha pointing his own gun at Alex.


Dermot had made himself the most dangerous target available.Maedhbh pointed her wand at Dermot, Alex redirected his gun at Dermot and Ferdy swung around with the Morallta to swing it at Dermot. They had all been distracted by Dermot and had momentarily forgotten Cúan. ”A trouble shared is a trouble halved.” thought Cúan as he saw in a second what he must do to save his father. He flung his shield like a discus at the back of Maedhbh’s head. She must have had some warning because her head jerked around just in time to avoid the heavy shield. But it clanged off Alex making him miss his shot and his bullet ricocheted harmlessly off of the granite wall and out into the dark.


But Ferdy’s attack was uninterrupted. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Cúan sped as fast as the Tarnhelm could carry him to fend off Ferdy’s descending Morallta. He just managed to place himself between the Morallta and Dermot when clang the sword clashed against the Tarnhelm cleaving it magically in two and revealing Cúan for all to see.




Maedhbh screamed “there, there he is.” She pointed her wand at Cúan intending to freeze him with some devastating spell when from behind her an enormous Black Bear loomed over the wall. Queen Maedhbh turned around just in time to be smothered in its huge embrace. Standing on its hind legs,it wrapped itself around her, hugging her tightly with its enormous black paws. There was a surprised shriek as Maedhbh dropped her wand. As all the air was squeezed out of her, down went Queen Maedhbh in a crumpled heap, unconscious on the floor of the tower. There was a scattering of the murder of crows and confusion in all her enchanted victims each waking up from her spell as from some bad dream.


Alex immediately dropped the gun and put his hands up saying “don't shoot, I surrender!” Ferdy lifted the visor and just said “what kind of a Knight out do you call this?”