Celtic Tales of Enchantment Read Free Page A

ground by the sorcery of the three kings of the Island of the Torrent. Nothing can free us but the sprinkling of their blood on the clay beneath us.’
    ‘What can we do to help?’ Fiachna asked.
    ‘Return to the camp at once and get Oisín and the others,’ Fionn ordered. ‘If you stay here you will both die under the swords of the Lochlannachs who will soon be on their way to the palace.’
    But Fiachna and Inse refused to desert Fionn and the others. ‘Well then, hurry to the ford nearby and prepare to defend it,’ said Fionn. ‘The Lochlannachs have to cross it in order to get to the palace.’
    Fiachna and Inse ran back to the ford. ‘One man can defend this,’ Fiachna said. ‘You stay here and guard it while I go and see what the Lochlannachs are up to.’
    Inse drew his sword and took up position where the ford narrowed to a single passageway. He watched as Fiachna crossed to the far side and raced away.

    In the enchanted Quicken Tree Palace, Fionn and his comrades were startled by the sound of loud mocking laughter outside the door. It opened suddenly and Miodhach appeared. He looked down on the helpless men. ‘Don’t go away!’ he jeered. ‘I have some other surprises in store for you. And don’t lose your heads yet. It will be time to lose them later!’ Still laughing, he slammed the door behind him and was gone before any of his hostages could respond.
    Miodhach hurried off to his Island Palace where his Lochlannach friends were waiting. When he told them how Fionn and his companions had fallen into their trap they cheered jubilantly.
    A prince among the King of the World’s followers decided that he would go straightaway to cut off Fionn’s head and bring it back to his king, thus gaining all the glory for himself.
    The prince set off with a hundred of his warriors. As they arrived at the bank of the ford they saw Inse on the other side.
    ‘What people do you belong to?’ the prince demanded in a ringing voice.
    ‘The people of Fionn Mac Cumhaill,’ Inse responded.
    ‘Then lead us to where Fionn is,’ the prince ordered.
    ‘Do not attempt to cross to this side of the ford,’ Inse warned. ‘Fionn sent me here to guard it and I will allow no one to pass alive.’
    The prince turned to his followers. ‘Kill him!’ he ordered. Brandishing their weapons, the warriors rushed into the water. Because the ford was so narrow on Inse’s side they could attack him only one at a time. With his mighty double-edged blade Inse cut each one down as they came against him. Soon, bodies of dead Lochlannachs were strewn all over the ford. The prince bellowed with rage and, weapon in hand, launched himself at Inse. The air rang with the clash of their weapons as they fought fiercely in the centre of the ford. But the prince was strong and fresh while Inse was tired and already wounded from combat. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground. Before he could regain his feet, the prince’s sword swept down and cut off his head. The prince raised the head triumphantly in the air and took it away to show the King of the World that he had slain Fionn Mac Cumhaill’s foster-son.
    Along the way he met Fiachna. ‘Where have you come from?’ he asked the prince.
    ‘From the ford near the Palace of the Quicken Trees,’ the prince said. ‘I was on my way to kill Fionn Mac Cumhaill but this Fianna whelp was defending the ford and killed all my men.’
    He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin and held up the head of Inse. ‘See, I cut his head off. I am taking it to the King of the World, who will reward me well.’
    Fiachna reached out and, taking the head, kissed it. ‘Do you know to whom you have given this head?’ he asked, his voice hoarse with grief.
    ‘Are you not one of the King of the World’s men?’
    ‘I am not,’ Fiachna said. ‘And neither shall you be for much longer!’
    He drew his sword and attacked the prince. The fight was short and savage. It ended when a powerful slanting blow from