Celtic Tales of Enchantment Read Free Page B

Fiachna’s weapon felled the prince to the ground. Fiachna beheaded him and hurried with both heads back to the ford.
    There he replaced Inse’s head on his body and gave him an honourable burial. Then, carrying the prince’s head, he raced back to the Palace of the Quicken Trees. From outside the door he shouted Fionn’s name.
    ‘Is that the voice of Fiachna?’ Fionn called.
    ‘It is indeed,’ replied Fiachna. ‘I have come with sad news. Our brave comrade, Inse, is dead. He defended the ford like a true hero, killing a hundred Lochlannachs, but he was slain by a prince of the King of the World’s army. I have avenged Inse and cut off the prince’s head.’
    ‘My poor Inse,’ said Fionn, mournfully. ‘I loved him like my own son. He was a valiant warrior and his death does him honour, but it is a sad loss for all the Fianna.’ Addressing Fiachna, he ordered: ‘Return to the ford and defend it as bravely as Inse did. Our comrades may arrive in time to help us.’
    Before Fiachna headed off he stuck the head of the prince on a spear and planted it in the ground outside the palace – a warning to their enemies that the Fianna were not easily defeated.

    In the Island Palace the rest of the Lochlannachs were waiting impatiently for Miodhach’s battle orders. A prince called Ciorthainn was worried that his brother prince had not returned from the Enchanted Palace.
    ‘I fear my brother is in trouble,’ he said. ‘I must go and find him.’
    Taking four hundred warriors with him he set out for the Palace of the Quicken Trees. When they reached the ford they saw Fiachna, sword in hand, standing on the far side.
    ‘Who are you?’ Ciorthainn called out.
    ‘I am Fiachna, youngest son of Fionn Mac Cumhaill,’ Fiachna answered. ‘And I warn you that if you try to cross this ford you will regret it.’
    Ciorthainn’s face turned red with rage. With a wild yell he led his men in a mad charge at the other side. Fiachna did not flinch but met them with his sword and shield. First he killed Ciorthainn and then cut down his men one by one, until the bodies of dead warriors lay in piles on either side of the ford. One warrior escaped the carnage and ran back frantically to the Island Palace.
    Miodhach, who had been at a meeting with the King of the World, was furious when he heard what had happened. ‘Those princes should never have gone to the ford without telling me! I know how the Fianna fight, and they had no hope of defeating them without that knowledge. I will go now and kill Fiachna. Then it will be the turn of Fionn and his companions to feel my revenge.’
    His mouth twisted into a cruel smile. ‘But it will not be quick. First I shall make them suffer. One of them, Conán Mac Morna, is the greatest glutton on earth. I will bring choice food and delicious drink to the palace to torment him with the sight and smell. Conán will lose his mind and while Fionn and the others are watching him suffer I will slowly kill them all.’
    So, bringing the feast with him, he set off with five hundred of his best warriors. When they arrived at the ford, brave Fiachna was still guarding it.
    ‘Is that my old comrade, Fiachna Mac Fhinn, I see?’ Miodhach called across to him. ‘You are very dear to me, Fiachna. During all the time I lived with the Fianna you were always kind to me and never lifted a hand in anger to any horse or hound or servant belonging to me.’
    But Fiachna was not impressed by Miodhach’s smooth talk. ‘I had little to do with you in all the years you lived among the Fianna. But my father, Fionn, was very kind to you and you have repaid him with the foulest treachery and trickery.’
    Miodhach almost choked with anger. In a voice no longer smooth and wheedling, he ordered Fiachna to leave the ford immediately. Fiachna laughed scornfully, ‘I challenge you to make me.’
    Miodhach ordered his warriors to attack. Swords drawn, they advanced on Fiachna. Like a wolf among sheep, Fiachna cut them down