Cormac tramped down the side of the hill. He was side by side with his daughters, holding a pudgy hand within each of his calloused fists. Saoirse and Luna were his twins, born at opposite ends of the year three years past. His son Eoghan ran ahead, jumping into puddles and over patches of moss.
The four of them had been making this journey every day since the burial. The children seemed to draw some comfort from visiting their mother’s grave, so Cormac considered that this was what his wife expected of him. They also reminded Cormac that he was failing to take care of the children as she might have expected. Three months of his care alone enough for the children.
Luna stopped suddenly as they reached the wall into their fields, looking closely at the ground where she walked.
‘Look daddy, a four-leafed clover,’ she said.
‘Are you sure?’ Asked Cormac.
Luna picked the clover and placed in the palm of her father’s hand. The rough skin of his hand seemed inches thick, his fingers had been worn by the unforgiving earth. Yet that delicate green shoot was at home there.
‘These are very rare,’ said Cormac, ‘you should keep it so that it will give you good luck. You’ll be a favourite of the fairies.’
‘You have it’, said Luna, ‘you have to look after us anyway, so the good luck should be yours.’
Cormac put the charm into his pocket, hoping it would find the way forward he couldn’t yet see.
Cormac returned to the cabin for a few moments, just long enough to light a fire for the children.
‘I have to go and work in the fields this afternoon,’ he said to them, ‘so stay here until I get back.’
‘But we’re hungry,’ they complained.
Cormac grimaced, ‘well, you’ll have to stay that way for now, but I’ll cook you something for dinner this evening.’
Cormac looked around the cabin he needed to clean, but that would have to wait; he needed to start working in the field, the sympathy from his neighbours wouldn’t last forever. He had to find something else to rely on. He had to think of the best thing he could do for his children.
When he returned home that evening, Cormac was carrying a chicken. He wanted nothing more than to rest and perhaps enjoy his family. But his children were hungry, he needed to cook for them. He remembered the clover in his pocket and closed his eyes.
As he walked to his cabin, Cormac could see his children running and laughing outside. They hardly noticed him return; they were too absorbed in their game. Cormac crossed the threshold; the smells of a freshly cooked meal were in the air. There was a pot bubbling, fresh logs were on the fire. Standing above the fire, stirring the pot was a beautiful young woman. His home was ordered, everything was in its place, just as it had been when he was first married. Cormac began to question the young woman as he gently stroked the clover resting in his pocket.
‘Who has sent you has sent you?’ He said to her.
‘I came across your farm as I was descending from the hill. Don’t be angry, but I sensed the hunger of your children and came to ease them.’
She has been sent by my wife, thought Cormac, she has come to help me with our family, ‘what is your name? Where have you come from?’
The young woman laughed, ‘my name is Macha. I have escaped from a land far away; can you shelter me? In return I will feed you and your children, I will keep your house in good order.’
Cormac looked upon Macha and decided that his wife had used the magic of the clover to send him aid. He agrees with Macha that she can live with the family. They are so well cared for now; Macha quickly earns his trust. They are married within the month.
At the wedding feast Cormac’s neighbours jostle to be the first to congratulate him and Macha, ‘You are a lucky man, Cormac, to marry a woman so fast and strong, so light on your feet, she is sure to make you and your children very happy.’ Cormac smiles every time he hears this and laughs with Macha. His new wife is a woman of the underworld, that is why she is so fast and light on her feet. But the children are so happy, she is part of their family, Cormac soon forgets his worry. And besides, his wife could only send a woman of the underworld to aid him, for that is where she is now.
At the wedding feast Cormac sees how popular he is in the village, and this reminds him that they will soon elect a new chieftain, a person who will make decisions for the entire village. He cannot think of anyone who would be better than him, so Cormac decides that he will ask that he will be given the role. He has the luck of the clover; with that he cannot fail.
There is a great hall that sits at the gathering place by the riverside, this is where the ceremony to announce Cormac as chieftain will take place. Cormac is now the most powerful person in the village, and his position is one which will allow him to amass great fortune. He is delighted that the clover has given him so much luck, but after the ceremony Macha has some even better news. Macha announces she is pregnant. My family is getting bigger, thinks Cormac, it is well that I have Macha now I’m also chieftain.
The high king of Ulster, Connor Mac Nessa, hears of Cormac’s successes and is intrigued. He is invited to join the king at Armagh in a celebration of Ulster’s chieftains. He is troubled to travel without Macha, but she is heavily pregnant and cannot undertake such a difficult journey. The journey will indeed be difficult, but Cormac knows he enjoys the protection of the clover. From his home in the Antrim hills, Cormac travels far over the fields and mountains were thick mists hide spirits and fairies looking for opportunities to take advantage of a foolhardy traveller. He travels to the southern edge of the great lake, Lough Neagh, that dominates so much of Ulster. He marches through the black forests in the bowels of the earth, and then scales the hills guarding Armagh and the seat of Connor.
After he made such a difficult journey at Connor’s request, Cormac was ready for a poignant and memorable celebration. It was not so. He was glum, and jealous, to hear the other lords tell of the riches they command. Cormac knew that his own opportunities would come, but right now he worked hard for little profit. He was beginning to wonder where these opportunities might lie. Connor would not be bested by anyone else when it came to proclaiming their own good fortune – he boasted of the two fine chariot horses that he had just received.
‘These horses are so black that it would be impossible to tell them apart from their own shadows were it not for their shiny coats. They are so well trained that they run without whip or bridle. They can run for twice as long as any team before they tire, and they are like lightning, as fast as any in Ireland.’
Cormac was sure that Macha was faster than any horse; he began to sense that this might be his opportunity, ‘I’m sure that they are the fastest horses in Ireland, but my wife could beat them in a race. She is a very special woman, beautiful and spry; I’m sure that she could beat them; I’ll wager my prize bull on it.’
Connor considered this for a moment, ‘if my horses win, I will get your bull, and if your wife wins…’
‘I will have your horses. They may not be the fastest, but I’m sure they’re fast enough.’
Connor’s spies had told him of the bull – it was one of the finest in Ulster, finer than any Connor had. It was ridiculous to claim any woman could beat his horses. And he would have that farmer’s bull. ‘Very well, you have your wager. Summon your wife here now, and we will have this done with.’
Becoming chieftain has given Cormac this chance. With the speed of Macha and the luck of the clover he couldn’t lose. Messengers were sent to Cormac’s village and ordered Macha to come with them to Armagh.
She was reluctant, ‘I’m eight-months pregnant, travel will be too dangerous for my baby.’
‘But you must come.’ replied the messengers, ‘if you don’t the bet will be forfeit and your husband will be killed.’
Macha sighed, ‘that journey was too dangerous for me two months ago, why is it safer now? But if my husband’s life is in danger I will do as you ask and travel to Armagh.’ Macha kissed each of the children on the forehead as she departed, ‘I’m sorry that I must leave you to attend to your father, but you must be brave. While I’m away our neighbours will feed you and keep you safe.’
After a difficult journey, Macha is tired; but she is not given a moment to rest. As soon as she arrives, she is thrown at the feet of Connor Mac Nessa. Beside his throne his hounds are in chains, barking and snarling at Macha while Connor sneers, ‘so this is the one who can challenge my horses? It will not be a difficult challenge for them.’
‘Please your majesty,’ said Macha, ‘as you can see, I will soon give birth. Let time pass until then, and perhaps a few weeks more for my recovery. Then I will happily race your horses.’
But Connor would not see his horses lose any advantage, ‘I’m a busy man and I have important matters to attend to for Ulster; I cannot waste time waiting for your birth and recovery. I will let you rest this one day, and then the race will be tomorrow.’
‘But this is not fair!’ Wailed Macha, ‘without your Red Branch Knights you would not have so much! I call upon them to help me.’ But the Knights were loyal to their king. They all took a step back and said nothing.
There was a site nearby where the race would take place. It was a flat plane by a river, close to the hill where the assembled knights and dignitaries could follow the race between Macha and Connor Mac Nessa’s horses. The race starts well for Macha, she is easily faster than the king’s horses. She is far ahead of them when the pain starts. She runs to the side of the racetrack, leans against a tree and howls in her agony. At this point the horses steal ahead, but Macha swallows her pain and rushes back to the track. She soon gains a lead again. When she is over that finish line, she has one she runs behind a thick hawthorn bush. Some women plead with Connor that they be allowed to follow Macha and help her at this time, but Connor is angry to have lost his fine horses and refuses.
Soon the spectators become bored and attempt to leave that place, but they find their legs are as heavy as lead and they are unable to leave. After a few hours, Cormac discovers that he has regained his strength and rushes to the bush to find out what has happened to his wife. Macha emerges from the bush with a newborn baby in her arms. She is furious because of the pain and the indignity she has suffered and wishes for men of Ulster to be shamed by their reluctance to help her.
Macha clears her throat and begins to speak so loudly that her voice can be heard for miles around, ‘I am Macha, the horse goddess. No horse could ever beat me. I had won the race before it had started. Now I curse you all, men of Ulster, for being callous to me in my time of great need. All men who can hear my voice will be helpless when they are in great peril. Through this you will know the anguish of a woman in childbirth.’
Cormac held the clover aloft, thinking that it will protect him from the curse. But, at the moment that Macha finishes speaking, one of the horses he has won plucks the clover from his hand and eats it. When Macha has completed her curse she returns to the underworld in fury with the babe in her arms.
The fine horses and fine bull he has, along with riches he garners as village chieftain, make Cormac one of the richest men in Ulster, but the scars of Macha’s words never quite heal. Every day he looks at his son and daughters and wonders what fate will befall them. Cormac is unaware that he is being watched; someone else sees his riches and wishes that those riches were theirs.
One day Cormac looks to the horizon and sees the horses he won from the king running from his farthest fields. Behind them he sees four horsemen, brigands who have come to take away his fine horses. He hears a crash, and turns round to see his bull running across the farmyard, chased by four brigands who will steal it from him. As fear grips his heart he falls to the ground in agony. He watches helplessly as the brigands steal his animals and then as the group begin to ransack his home. The thieves tie up his son and daughters and carry them away, laughing that Macha will pay a pretty price for their return.
When all is lost, Cormac travels up the hill to the burial mound of his wife. It has been so long since he has been there, and he stands in silence as to the wind whips around him. He says a silent prayer and then throws three more stones on the pile.
THE END
Ciaran McLarnon
Faster
Cormac tramped down the side of the hill. He was side by side with his daughters, holding a pudgy hand within each of his calloused fists. Saoirse and Luna were his twins, born at opposite ends of the year three years past. His son Eoghan ran ahead, jumping into puddles and over patches of moss.
The four of them had been making this journey every day since the burial. The children seemed to draw some comfort from visiting their mother’s grave, so Cormac considered that this was what his wife expected of him. They also reminded Cormac that he was failing to take care of the children as she might have expected. Three months of his care alone enough for the children.
Luna stopped suddenly as they reached the wall into their fields, looking closely at the ground where she walked.
‘Look daddy, a four-leafed clover,’ she said.
‘Are you sure?’ Asked Cormac.
Luna picked the clover and placed in the palm of her father’s hand. The rough skin of his hand seemed inches thick, his fingers had been worn by the unforgiving earth. Yet that delicate green shoot was at home there.
‘These are very rare,’ said Cormac, ‘you should keep it so that it will give you good luck. You’ll be a favourite of the fairies.’
‘You have it’, said Luna, ‘you have to look after us anyway, so the good luck should be yours.’
Cormac put the charm into his pocket, hoping it would find the way forward he couldn’t yet see.
Cormac returned to the cabin for a few moments, just long enough to light a fire for the children.
‘I have to go and work in the fields this afternoon,’ he said to them, ‘so stay here until I get back.’
‘But we’re hungry,’ they complained.
Cormac grimaced, ‘well, you’ll have to stay that way for now, but I’ll cook you something for dinner this evening.’
Cormac looked around the cabin he needed to clean, but that would have to wait; he needed to start working in the field, the sympathy from his neighbours wouldn’t last forever. He had to find something else to rely on. He had to think of the best thing he could do for his children.
When he returned home that evening, Cormac was carrying a chicken. He wanted nothing more than to rest and perhaps enjoy his family. But his children were hungry, he needed to cook for them. He remembered the clover in his pocket and closed his eyes.
As he walked to his cabin, Cormac could see his children running and laughing outside. They hardly noticed him return; they were too absorbed in their game. Cormac crossed the threshold; the smells of a freshly cooked meal were in the air. There was a pot bubbling, fresh logs were on the fire. Standing above the fire, stirring the pot was a beautiful young woman. His home was ordered, everything was in its place, just as it had been when he was first married. Cormac began to question the young woman as he gently stroked the clover resting in his pocket.
‘Who has sent you has sent you?’ He said to her.
‘I came across your farm as I was descending from the hill. Don’t be angry, but I sensed the hunger of your children and came to ease them.’
She has been sent by my wife, thought Cormac, she has come to help me with our family, ‘what is your name? Where have you come from?’
The young woman laughed, ‘my name is Macha. I have escaped from a land far away; can you shelter me? In return I will feed you and your children, I will keep your house in good order.’
Cormac looked upon Macha and decided that his wife had used the magic of the clover to send him aid. He agrees with Macha that she can live with the family. They are so well cared for now; Macha quickly earns his trust. They are married within the month.
At the wedding feast Cormac’s neighbours jostle to be the first to congratulate him and Macha, ‘You are a lucky man, Cormac, to marry a woman so fast and strong, so light on your feet, she is sure to make you and your children very happy.’ Cormac smiles every time he hears this and laughs with Macha. His new wife is a woman of the underworld, that is why she is so fast and light on her feet. But the children are so happy, she is part of their family, Cormac soon forgets his worry. And besides, his wife could only send a woman of the underworld to aid him, for that is where she is now.
At the wedding feast Cormac sees how popular he is in the village, and this reminds him that they will soon elect a new chieftain, a person who will make decisions for the entire village. He cannot think of anyone who would be better than him, so Cormac decides that he will ask that he will be given the role. He has the luck of the clover; with that he cannot fail.
There is a great hall that sits at the gathering place by the riverside, this is where the ceremony to announce Cormac as chieftain will take place. Cormac is now the most powerful person in the village, and his position is one which will allow him to amass great fortune. He is delighted that the clover has given him so much luck, but after the ceremony Macha has some even better news. Macha announces she is pregnant. My family is getting bigger, thinks Cormac, it is well that I have Macha now I’m also chieftain.
The high king of Ulster, Connor Mac Nessa, hears of Cormac’s successes and is intrigued. He is invited to join the king at Armagh in a celebration of Ulster’s chieftains. He is troubled to travel without Macha, but she is heavily pregnant and cannot undertake such a difficult journey. The journey will indeed be difficult, but Cormac knows he enjoys the protection of the clover. From his home in the Antrim hills, Cormac travels far over the fields and mountains were thick mists hide spirits and fairies looking for opportunities to take advantage of a foolhardy traveller. He travels to the southern edge of the great lake, Lough Neagh, that dominates so much of Ulster. He marches through the black forests in the bowels of the earth, and then scales the hills guarding Armagh and the seat of Connor.
After he made such a difficult journey at Connor’s request, Cormac was ready for a poignant and memorable celebration. It was not so. He was glum, and jealous, to hear the other lords tell of the riches they command. Cormac knew that his own opportunities would come, but right now he worked hard for little profit. He was beginning to wonder where these opportunities might lie. Connor would not be bested by anyone else when it came to proclaiming their own good fortune – he boasted of the two fine chariot horses that he had just received.
‘These horses are so black that it would be impossible to tell them apart from their own shadows were it not for their shiny coats. They are so well trained that they run without whip or bridle. They can run for twice as long as any team before they tire, and they are like lightning, as fast as any in Ireland.’
Cormac was sure that Macha was faster than any horse; he began to sense that this might be his opportunity, ‘I’m sure that they are the fastest horses in Ireland, but my wife could beat them in a race. She is a very special woman, beautiful and spry; I’m sure that she could beat them; I’ll wager my prize bull on it.’
Connor considered this for a moment, ‘if my horses win, I will get your bull, and if your wife wins…’
‘I will have your horses. They may not be the fastest, but I’m sure they’re fast enough.’
Connor’s spies had told him of the bull – it was one of the finest in Ulster, finer than any Connor had. It was ridiculous to claim any woman could beat his horses. And he would have that farmer’s bull. ‘Very well, you have your wager. Summon your wife here now, and we will have this done with.’
Becoming chieftain has given Cormac this chance. With the speed of Macha and the luck of the clover he couldn’t lose. Messengers were sent to Cormac’s village and ordered Macha to come with them to Armagh.
She was reluctant, ‘I’m eight-months pregnant, travel will be too dangerous for my baby.’
‘But you must come.’ replied the messengers, ‘if you don’t the bet will be forfeit and your husband will be killed.’
Macha sighed, ‘that journey was too dangerous for me two months ago, why is it safer now? But if my husband’s life is in danger I will do as you ask and travel to Armagh.’ Macha kissed each of the children on the forehead as she departed, ‘I’m sorry that I must leave you to attend to your father, but you must be brave. While I’m away our neighbours will feed you and keep you safe.’
After a difficult journey, Macha is tired; but she is not given a moment to rest. As soon as she arrives, she is thrown at the feet of Connor Mac Nessa. Beside his throne his hounds are in chains, barking and snarling at Macha while Connor sneers, ‘so this is the one who can challenge my horses? It will not be a difficult challenge for them.’
‘Please your majesty,’ said Macha, ‘as you can see, I will soon give birth. Let time pass until then, and perhaps a few weeks more for my recovery. Then I will happily race your horses.’
But Connor would not see his horses lose any advantage, ‘I’m a busy man and I have important matters to attend to for Ulster; I cannot waste time waiting for your birth and recovery. I will let you rest this one day, and then the race will be tomorrow.’
‘But this is not fair!’ Wailed Macha, ‘without your Red Branch Knights you would not have so much! I call upon them to help me.’ But the Knights were loyal to their king. They all took a step back and said nothing.
There was a site nearby where the race would take place. It was a flat plane by a river, close to the hill where the assembled knights and dignitaries could follow the race between Macha and Connor Mac Nessa’s horses. The race starts well for Macha, she is easily faster than the king’s horses. She is far ahead of them when the pain starts. She runs to the side of the racetrack, leans against a tree and howls in her agony. At this point the horses steal ahead, but Macha swallows her pain and rushes back to the track. She soon gains a lead again. When she is over that finish line, she has one she runs behind a thick hawthorn bush. Some women plead with Connor that they be allowed to follow Macha and help her at this time, but Connor is angry to have lost his fine horses and refuses.
Soon the spectators become bored and attempt to leave that place, but they find their legs are as heavy as lead and they are unable to leave. After a few hours, Cormac discovers that he has regained his strength and rushes to the bush to find out what has happened to his wife. Macha emerges from the bush with a newborn baby in her arms. She is furious because of the pain and the indignity she has suffered and wishes for men of Ulster to be shamed by their reluctance to help her.
Macha clears her throat and begins to speak so loudly that her voice can be heard for miles around, ‘I am Macha, the horse goddess. No horse could ever beat me. I had won the race before it had started. Now I curse you all, men of Ulster, for being callous to me in my time of great need. All men who can hear my voice will be helpless when they are in great peril. Through this you will know the anguish of a woman in childbirth.’
Cormac held the clover aloft, thinking that it will protect him from the curse. But, at the moment that Macha finishes speaking, one of the horses he has won plucks the clover from his hand and eats it. When Macha has completed her curse she returns to the underworld in fury with the babe in her arms.
The fine horses and fine bull he has, along with riches he garners as village chieftain, make Cormac one of the richest men in Ulster, but the scars of Macha’s words never quite heal. Every day he looks at his son and daughters and wonders what fate will befall them. Cormac is unaware that he is being watched; someone else sees his riches and wishes that those riches were theirs.
One day Cormac looks to the horizon and sees the horses he won from the king running from his farthest fields. Behind them he sees four horsemen, brigands who have come to take away his fine horses. He hears a crash, and turns round to see his bull running across the farmyard, chased by four brigands who will steal it from him. As fear grips his heart he falls to the ground in agony. He watches helplessly as the brigands steal his animals and then as the group begin to ransack his home. The thieves tie up his son and daughters and carry them away, laughing that Macha will pay a pretty price for their return.
When all is lost, Cormac travels up the hill to the burial mound of his wife. It has been so long since he has been there, and he stands in silence as to the wind whips around him. He says a silent prayer and then throws three more stones on the pile.
THE END
Ciaran McLarnon
Faster
Cormac tramped down the side of the hill. He was side by side with his daughters, holding a pudgy hand within each of his calloused fists. Saoirse and Luna were his twins, born at opposite ends of the year three years past. His son Eoghan ran ahead, jumping into puddles and over patches of moss.
The four of them had been making this journey every day since the burial. The children seemed to draw some comfort from visiting their mother’s grave, so Cormac considered that this was what his wife expected of him. They also reminded Cormac that he was failing to take care of the children as she might have expected. Three months of his care alone enough for the children.
Luna stopped suddenly as they reached the wall into their fields, looking closely at the ground where she walked.
‘Look daddy, a four-leafed clover,’ she said.
‘Are you sure?’ Asked Cormac.
Luna picked the clover and placed in the palm of her father’s hand. The rough skin of his hand seemed inches thick, his fingers had been worn by the unforgiving earth. Yet that delicate green shoot was at home there.
‘These are very rare,’ said Cormac, ‘you should keep it so that it will give you good luck. You’ll be a favourite of the fairies.’
‘You have it’, said Luna, ‘you have to look after us anyway, so the good luck should be yours.’
Cormac put the charm into his pocket, hoping it would find the way forward he couldn’t yet see.
Cormac returned to the cabin for a few moments, just long enough to light a fire for the children.
‘I have to go and work in the fields this afternoon,’ he said to them, ‘so stay here until I get back.’
‘But we’re hungry,’ they complained.
Cormac grimaced, ‘well, you’ll have to stay that way for now, but I’ll cook you something for dinner this evening.’
Cormac looked around the cabin he needed to clean, but that would have to wait; he needed to start working in the field, the sympathy from his neighbours wouldn’t last forever. He had to find something else to rely on. He had to think of the best thing he could do for his children.
When he returned home that evening, Cormac was carrying a chicken. He wanted nothing more than to rest and perhaps enjoy his family. But his children were hungry, he needed to cook for them. He remembered the clover in his pocket and closed his eyes.
As he walked to his cabin, Cormac could see his children running and laughing outside. They hardly noticed him return; they were too absorbed in their game. Cormac crossed the threshold; the smells of a freshly cooked meal were in the air. There was a pot bubbling, fresh logs were on the fire. Standing above the fire, stirring the pot was a beautiful young woman. His home was ordered, everything was in its place, just as it had been when he was first married. Cormac began to question the young woman as he gently stroked the clover resting in his pocket.
‘Who has sent you has sent you?’ He said to her.
‘I came across your farm as I was descending from the hill. Don’t be angry, but I sensed the hunger of your children and came to ease them.’
She has been sent by my wife, thought Cormac, she has come to help me with our family, ‘what is your name? Where have you come from?’
The young woman laughed, ‘my name is Macha. I have escaped from a land far away; can you shelter me? In return I will feed you and your children, I will keep your house in good order.’
Cormac looked upon Macha and decided that his wife had used the magic of the clover to send him aid. He agrees with Macha that she can live with the family. They are so well cared for now; Macha quickly earns his trust. They are married within the month.
At the wedding feast Cormac’s neighbours jostle to be the first to congratulate him and Macha, ‘You are a lucky man, Cormac, to marry a woman so fast and strong, so light on your feet, she is sure to make you and your children very happy.’ Cormac smiles every time he hears this and laughs with Macha. His new wife is a woman of the underworld, that is why she is so fast and light on her feet. But the children are so happy, she is part of their family, Cormac soon forgets his worry. And besides, his wife could only send a woman of the underworld to aid him, for that is where she is now.
At the wedding feast Cormac sees how popular he is in the village, and this reminds him that they will soon elect a new chieftain, a person who will make decisions for the entire village. He cannot think of anyone who would be better than him, so Cormac decides that he will ask that he will be given the role. He has the luck of the clover; with that he cannot fail.
There is a great hall that sits at the gathering place by the riverside, this is where the ceremony to announce Cormac as chieftain will take place. Cormac is now the most powerful person in the village, and his position is one which will allow him to amass great fortune. He is delighted that the clover has given him so much luck, but after the ceremony Macha has some even better news. Macha announces she is pregnant. My family is getting bigger, thinks Cormac, it is well that I have Macha now I’m also chieftain.
The high king of Ulster, Connor Mac Nessa, hears of Cormac’s successes and is intrigued. He is invited to join the king at Armagh in a celebration of Ulster’s chieftains. He is troubled to travel without Macha, but she is heavily pregnant and cannot undertake such a difficult journey. The journey will indeed be difficult, but Cormac knows he enjoys the protection of the clover. From his home in the Antrim hills, Cormac travels far over the fields and mountains were thick mists hide spirits and fairies looking for opportunities to take advantage of a foolhardy traveller. He travels to the southern edge of the great lake, Lough Neagh, that dominates so much of Ulster. He marches through the black forests in the bowels of the earth, and then scales the hills guarding Armagh and the seat of Connor.
After he made such a difficult journey at Connor’s request, Cormac was ready for a poignant and memorable celebration. It was not so. He was glum, and jealous, to hear the other lords tell of the riches they command. Cormac knew that his own opportunities would come, but right now he worked hard for little profit. He was beginning to wonder where these opportunities might lie. Connor would not be bested by anyone else when it came to proclaiming their own good fortune – he boasted of the two fine chariot horses that he had just received.
‘These horses are so black that it would be impossible to tell them apart from their own shadows were it not for their shiny coats. They are so well trained that they run without whip or bridle. They can run for twice as long as any team before they tire, and they are like lightning, as fast as any in Ireland.’
Cormac was sure that Macha was faster than any horse; he began to sense that this might be his opportunity, ‘I’m sure that they are the fastest horses in Ireland, but my wife could beat them in a race. She is a very special woman, beautiful and spry; I’m sure that she could beat them; I’ll wager my prize bull on it.’
Connor considered this for a moment, ‘if my horses win, I will get your bull, and if your wife wins…’
‘I will have your horses. They may not be the fastest, but I’m sure they’re fast enough.’
Connor’s spies had told him of the bull – it was one of the finest in Ulster, finer than any Connor had. It was ridiculous to claim any woman could beat his horses. And he would have that farmer’s bull. ‘Very well, you have your wager. Summon your wife here now, and we will have this done with.’
Becoming chieftain has given Cormac this chance. With the speed of Macha and the luck of the clover he couldn’t lose. Messengers were sent to Cormac’s village and ordered Macha to come with them to Armagh.
She was reluctant, ‘I’m eight-months pregnant, travel will be too dangerous for my baby.’
‘But you must come.’ replied the messengers, ‘if you don’t the bet will be forfeit and your husband will be killed.’
Macha sighed, ‘that journey was too dangerous for me two months ago, why is it safer now? But if my husband’s life is in danger I will do as you ask and travel to Armagh.’ Macha kissed each of the children on the forehead as she departed, ‘I’m sorry that I must leave you to attend to your father, but you must be brave. While I’m away our neighbours will feed you and keep you safe.’
After a difficult journey, Macha is tired; but she is not given a moment to rest. As soon as she arrives, she is thrown at the feet of Connor Mac Nessa. Beside his throne his hounds are in chains, barking and snarling at Macha while Connor sneers, ‘so this is the one who can challenge my horses? It will not be a difficult challenge for them.’
‘Please your majesty,’ said Macha, ‘as you can see, I will soon give birth. Let time pass until then, and perhaps a few weeks more for my recovery. Then I will happily race your horses.’
But Connor would not see his horses lose any advantage, ‘I’m a busy man and I have important matters to attend to for Ulster; I cannot waste time waiting for your birth and recovery. I will let you rest this one day, and then the race will be tomorrow.’
‘But this is not fair!’ Wailed Macha, ‘without your Red Branch Knights you would not have so much! I call upon them to help me.’ But the Knights were loyal to their king. They all took a step back and said nothing.
There was a site nearby where the race would take place. It was a flat plane by a river, close to the hill where the assembled knights and dignitaries could follow the race between Macha and Connor Mac Nessa’s horses. The race starts well for Macha, she is easily faster than the king’s horses. She is far ahead of them when the pain starts. She runs to the side of the racetrack, leans against a tree and howls in her agony. At this point the horses steal ahead, but Macha swallows her pain and rushes back to the track. She soon gains a lead again. When she is over that finish line, she has one she runs behind a thick hawthorn bush. Some women plead with Connor that they be allowed to follow Macha and help her at this time, but Connor is angry to have lost his fine horses and refuses.
Soon the spectators become bored and attempt to leave that place, but they find their legs are as heavy as lead and they are unable to leave. After a few hours, Cormac discovers that he has regained his strength and rushes to the bush to find out what has happened to his wife. Macha emerges from the bush with a newborn baby in her arms. She is furious because of the pain and the indignity she has suffered and wishes for men of Ulster to be shamed by their reluctance to help her.
Macha clears her throat and begins to speak so loudly that her voice can be heard for miles around, ‘I am Macha, the horse goddess. No horse could ever beat me. I had won the race before it had started. Now I curse you all, men of Ulster, for being callous to me in my time of great need. All men who can hear my voice will be helpless when they are in great peril. Through this you will know the anguish of a woman in childbirth.’
Cormac held the clover aloft, thinking that it will protect him from the curse. But, at the moment that Macha finishes speaking, one of the horses he has won plucks the clover from his hand and eats it. When Macha has completed her curse she returns to the underworld in fury with the babe in her arms.
The fine horses and fine bull he has, along with riches he garners as village chieftain, make Cormac one of the richest men in Ulster, but the scars of Macha’s words never quite heal. Every day he looks at his son and daughters and wonders what fate will befall them. Cormac is unaware that he is being watched; someone else sees his riches and wishes that those riches were theirs.
One day Cormac looks to the horizon and sees the horses he won from the king running from his farthest fields. Behind them he sees four horsemen, brigands who have come to take away his fine horses. He hears a crash, and turns round to see his bull running across the farmyard, chased by four brigands who will steal it from him. As fear grips his heart he falls to the ground in agony. He watches helplessly as the brigands steal his animals and then as the group begin to ransack his home. The thieves tie up his son and daughters and carry them away, laughing that Macha will pay a pretty price for their return.
When all is lost, Cormac travels up the hill to the burial mound of his wife. It has been so long since he has been there, and he stands in silence as to the wind whips around him. He says a silent prayer and then throws three more stones on the pile.
THE END
Ciaran McLarnon
Ciaran J McLarnon 