Читать книгу Legendary Heroes of Ireland - Harold F. Hughes - Страница 7

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A tremendous gathering of the men of Erin had come together at the city of Tara, the central city of the realm. The Fenians were camped in a circle around the outskirts. At night the lights of their campfires made a circle of fire as though to protect it from danger.

Conn, the High King, was holding court in the great banquet hall where a thousand of the chiefs and champions were gathered with him. This hall was seven hundred sixty feet long, ninety feet wide and built of hewn logs. Down each side ran a double row of benches with hewn tables in front of them. In each row were two hundred fifty of the finest manhood of Erin. Their weapons and shields rested against the walls behind them while they ate. Down the center was a row of fires over which, on spits, great roasts of meat were cooking. An army of cooks were constantly busy, tending the fires, turning the spits and carrying food to the tables.

At the end of the hall on a raised platform sat Conn, his son Arthur, and Gaul of Morna, leader of the Fenians. They were in earnest consultation.

One would have thought that such a gathering of heroes at a feast would have been a jolly one. It was not so. A deep silence hung over all. Men ate in silence with gloomy faces and downcast eyes, sad because they felt that it would be their last gathering in that splendid hall.

Suddenly a voice rang out through the silence. Clear and firm it was, so that every word was heard the length of the hall.

“Conn, High King of Erin, a lonely and disinherited youth, without money and without friends, claims thy hospitality!”

The men of Erin looked at the newcomer in surprise. They saw a youth about ten years of age, clad in the skins of the forest animals. Hanging at his belt in front was a great sword, while his skin covered shield hung over his shoulders at the back. His fair hair fell to his shoulders, while his blue eyes caught the glint of light from the spears along the wall and shot it back like flashes of sunlight. It was Finn, son of Cool, appearing for the first time before the Fenians.

The High King had matters of too much weight on his mind to take much heed of the boy who claimed what no king at that time would refuse—a place at the table and a bed. He motioned to Finn to take his place with the others and went on with his discussion.

Finn ate with the other men of Erin. He said no word until he had finished his meal. Then he arose and once more addressed the High King.

“I know it is not customary for a stranger to note that there is anything wrong in the house of his host, but I am impressed by your look of sadness and the silence of the men of Erin. Is aught amiss that may be told to a stranger?”

“Our troubles are not secret, though it shames me to tell them,” answered the High King. “Tonight is the time set for the destruction of Tara, and I am powerless to save it. Each year for nine years, at the midnight hour of this night, the giant Midna appears and throws balls of fire at the city until it is destroyed. Each year I have rebuilt it, only to know that my work is to last but for a year. The women and children have been sent away. Only the Fenians remain to witness my shame. Do you wonder, O Youth, that we are sick at heart?”

“And is there no brave champion or youth anxious to prove his bravery who can go out and meet this giant?” asked Finn.

“Alas, no,” sighed the High King. “It is not that the men of Erin are lacking in bravery. Many have tried without result. When Midna is ready to destroy, he plays fairy music upon his pipes, and not a man can stay awake. When sleep leaves our eyes he is gone, and the city is a heap of ashes. We watch again tonight, but we have no hopes of success.”

Of course Finn, having eaten the Salmon of Knowledge, knew this as well as anybody. His purpose in asking for information was to obtain a promise from Conn.

“What shall be the reward of him who slays the giant and saves the city?” asked Finn.

“If such a feat be possible, no reward that he shall ask will be refused,” answered the High King.

“Even to the return of my inheritance?” asked Finn.

“Yes, fair youth,” answered Conn. “Even if your inheritance be my crown, and my son and I must become your vassals, it shall be returned to you.”

“Is that your promise, O King, made before all these men of Erin?” insisted Finn.

“It is,” declared the king, stepping down and putting his hand in that of the boy. “My hand is my pledge that I will do as I promise.”

“Then I shall attempt the trial,” said Finn.

He waved back all offers of spears and shields from the men of Erin and went out by himself into the darkness. He sought out a place in a dark grove and waited quietly. Soon a man appeared, bearing a large cloak and a heavy spear. The spear handle was studded with nails of gold, but the point was incased in a leather covering. The man gave Finn directions for the use of the articles and disappeared.

Soon the lights in the banquet hall went out, as the champions went to their posts in the circle defending the city. No man spoke to his neighbor. That would have been useless since every man had his ears filled with wax in the hopes that he might shut out the sound of the strange, sweet music that put all to sleep.

Finn climbed a hill overlooking the city. His knowledge told him that here it was the giant would come. Soon he heard in the distance the sound of pipes. The music lulled his senses, his eyelids drooped, his head began to nod. Not till then did he take the leather covering from the spear head. It glowed like fire and little tongues of light shot out in all directions. From the spear came the sound of many voices crying out together. Finn pressed the point to his forehead. The pain of the burning was stronger than the spell of the music.

Soon the lights of the circle began to reel and go out as one after another of the Fenians came under the spell of the music. At last only the lights of the stronger chiefs were burning.

The music then changed to the sweetness of strings. Once again Finn had to press the spear head to his forehead. The lights went out one by one until there was but one left, that of Conn, and it was reeling like that of a drunken man. Then it, too, went out. Tara was unprotected by her army.

And now Finn heard the sound of heavy feet. There was a splashing of water as of one crossing a river. Finn looked in the direction of the sound and beheld a mighty mountain of man ascending the hill on which he stood. It was the giant Midna.

Midna looked over the city lying at his mercy and laughed aloud. He blew from his mouth a red fire ball which was to begin the destruction of the city. Finn reached out his cloak and caught the ball in its folds, where it died out harmlessly. The amazed giant shot another and another at the city, but not one passed the folds of Finn’s cloak.

At first, I suppose, the giant thought that he was shooting a poor grade of fire balls that evening. When, however, he looked to the place where they disappeared and saw Finn catching them in his cloak, he let out a roar of fear and ran back toward his home as quickly as he could. Probably he had heard some prophecy that told him of the coming of this boy, dressed in skins; maybe he saw that Finn’s powers were greater than his; anyway he did not pause for battle, but ran with all the speed he possessed.

Finn gave chase. He was, you remember, very fleet of foot, but the giant’s legs were many times longer and the distance grew between them. The spear flamed brightly and seemed struggling to get free.

“Go then, if you will,” cried Finn, as he hurled it after the fast disappearing giant.

Like a meteor in the night sky the spear sped through the darkness and disappeared. Finn ran on after it. He found the giant dead at the door of his cave in the hillside. The spear had passed through his body and disappeared.

With his sword Finn took the enchanter’s head as proof that he had won the battle. When he passed the place where he had dropped the cloak he found nothing. Like the spear, it disappeared when its work was done. Finn placed the head of the giant on a pole in front of the banquet hall so that all might see it in the morning.

And then, after it was all over, he became very faint and sick. The use of the weapons of magic had taken all the strength out of his body. He reeled like a drunken man toward the spring which furnished water for the banquet hall. Finn had another power of which I must tell you. By bringing water in his cupped hands to one sick or wounded he could restore him to health. He used this power now and drank from his own hands. At once his sickness passed. Then he lay down and slept.

In the morning he woke early and gave a mighty shout.

Even though their ears were filled with wax the Fenians could not fail to hear his voice. They struggled from their sleep and rubbed their eyes in astonishment to see, not a heap of smoking ruins, but Tara, resplendent in the morning sun.

They came with all speed, Conn and Gaul in the lead, to the spot where Finn stood pointing at the head of their late enemy.

“Who are you, brave youth?” asked Conn. “You are no common man since you have done what no one else could do.”

Then Finn drew himself up and in a loud voice cried:

“I claim my inheritance—the castle of Alma and the leadership of the Fenians. I am Finn, son of Cool, and these things belong to me in my right.”

“What I have promised I will fulfill,” declared Conn. “I give you your inheritance the more willingly because your father was my friend and loyal subject until I decided unfairly against him.”

Then Gaul of Morna gave up the leadership of the Fenians and put his hand in that of Finn to show that he was willing to be his friend and follower. The other leaders followed his example. It must have gone hard with some of these mighty chiefs to swear fealty to a ten year old boy. The only thing that made such a thing possible was that Finn had done something no other of them could do and had entered the class of a champion by killing the giant.

Thus Finn MacCool became the leader of the Fenians.