I
Flann was the name that the Old Woman
of Beare gave to Gilly of the Goatskin when he came
back to tell her that the Swan of Endless Tales had
been hatched out of the Crystal Egg. He went from
her house then and came to where the King of Ireland’s
Son waited for him. The two comrades went along
a well-traveled road. As they went on they fell
in with men driving herds of ponies, men carrying
packs on their backs, men with tools for working gold
and silver, bronze and iron. Every man whom they
asked said, “We are going to the Town of the
Red Castle, and to the great fair that will be held
there.” The King’s Son and Flann thought
they should go to the Town of the Red Castle too, for
where so many people would be, there was a chance
of hearing what went before and what came after the
Unique Tale. So they went on.
And when they had come to a well that
was under a great rock those whom they were with halted.
They said it was the custom for the merchants and
sellers to wait there for a day and to go into the
Town of the Red Castle the day following. “On
this day,” they said, “the people of the
Town celebrate the Festival of Midsummer, and they
do not like a great company of people to go into their
Town until the Festival is over.”
The King of Ireland’s Son and
Flann went on, and they were let into the town.
The people had lighted great fires in their market-place
and they were driving their cattle through the fires:
“If there be evil on you, may it burn, may it
burn,” they were crying. They were afraid
that witches and enchanters might come into the town
with the merchants and the sellers, and that was the
reason they did not permit a great company to enter.
The fires in all their houses had
been quenched that day, and they might not be lighted
except from the fires the cattle had gone through.
The fires were left blazing high and the King’s
Son and Flann spent hours watching them, and watching
the crowds that were around.
Then the time came to take fire to
the houses. They who came for fire were all young
maidens. Each came into the light of one of the
great fires, took coals from a fire that had burnt
low, placed them in a new earthen vessel and went
away. Flann thought that all the maidens were
beautiful and wonderful, although the King’s
Son told him that some were black-faced, and some
crop-headed and some hunchbacked. Then a maiden
came, who was so high above the rest that Flann had
no words to speak of her.
She had silver on her head and silver
on her arms, and the people around the fires all bowed
to her. She had black, black hair and she had
a smiling face not happily smiling, but
proudly smiling. Flann thought that a star had
bent down with her. And when she had taken the
fire and had gone away, Flann said, “She is
surely the King’s daughter!”
“She is,” said the King
of Ireland’s Son. “The people here
have spoken her name.” “What is her
name?” asked Flann. “It is Lassarina,”
said the King’s Son, “Flame-of-Wine.”
“Shall we see her again?” said Flann.
“That I do not know,”
said the King’s Son. “Come now, and
let us ask the people here if they have knowledge
of the Unique Tale.”
“Wait,” said Flann, “they
are talking about Princess Flame-of-Wine.”
He did not move, but listened to what was said.
All said that the King’s daughter was proud.
Some said she was beautiful, but others answered that
her lips were thin, and her eyes were mocking.
No other maidens came for fire. Flann stood before
the one that still blazed, and thought and thought.
The King’s Son asked many if they had knowledge
of the Unique Tale, but no one had heard of it.
Some told him that there would be merchants and sellers
from many parts of the world at the fair that would
be held on the morrow, and that there would be a chance
of meeting one who had knowledge of it. Then
the King’s Son went with one who brought him
to a Brufir’s that is, to a House
of Hospitality maintained by the King for strangers.
As for Flann, he sat looking into the fire until it
died down, and then he slept before it.
II
Flann was wakened by a gander and
his flock of geese that stood round him; shook their
wings and set up their goose-gabble. It was day
then, although there was still a star in the sky.
He threw furze-roots where there was a glow, and made
a fire blaze up again. Then the dogs of the town
came down to look at him, and then stole away.
Horns were blown outside, and the
watchman opened the gates. Flann shook himself
and stood up to see the folk that were coming in.
First came the men who drove the mountain ponies that
had lately fed with the deer in wild places.
Then came men in leathern jerkins who led wide-horned
bulls a black bull and a white bull, and
a white bull and a black bull, one after the other.
Then there were men who brought in high, swift hounds,
three to each leash they held. Women in brown
cloaks carried cages of birds. Men carried on
their shoulders and in their belts tools for working
gold and silver, bronze and iron. And there were
calves and sheep, and great horses and weighty chariots,
and colored cloths, and things closed in packs that
merchants carried on their shoulders. The famous
bards, and story-tellers and harpists would not come
until noon-time when the business of the fair would
have abated, but with the crowd of beggars came ballad-singers,
and the tellers of the stories that were called “Go-by-the-Market-Stake,”
because they were told around the stake in the market
place and were very common.
And at the tail of the comers whom
did Flann see but Mogue, the Captain of the Robbers!
Mogue wore a hare-skin cap, his left
eye protruded as usual, and he walked limpingly.
He had a pack on his back, and he led a small, swift
looking horse of a reddish color. Flann called
to him as he passed and Mogue gave a great start.
He grinned when he saw it was Flann and walked up
to him.
“Mogue,” said Flann, “what
are you doing in the Town of the Red Castle?”
“I’m here to sell a few
things,” said Mogue, “this little horse,”
said he, “and a few things I have in my pack.”
“And where are your friends?”
asked Flann. “My band, do you mean?”
said Mogue. “Sure, they all left me when
you proved you were the better robber. What are
you doing here?”
“I have no business at all,” said Flann.
“By the Hazel! that’s
what I like to hear you say. Join me then.
You and me would do well together.”
“I won’t join you,” said Flann.
“I’d rather have you with
me than the whole of the band. What were they
anyway? Cabbage-heads!” Mogue winked with
his protruding eye. “Wait till you see
me again,” said he. “I’ve the
grandest things in my pack.” He went on
leading the little horse. Then Flann set out to
look for the King’s Son.
He found him at the door of the Brufir’s,
and they drank bowls of milk and ate oaten bread together,
and then went to the gate of the town to watch the
notable people who were coming in.
And with the bards and harpers and
Kings’ envoys who came in, the King’s
Son saw his two half-brothers, Dermott and Downal.
He hailed them and they knew him and came up to him
gladly. The King’s Son made Flann known
to them, saying that he too was the son of a King.
They looked fine youths, Downal and
Dermott, in their red cloaks, with their heads held
high, and a brag in their walk and their words.
They left their horses with the grooms and walked
with Flann and the King’s Son. They were
tall and ruddy; the King’s Son was more brown
in the hair and more hawk-like in the face: the
three were different from the dark-haired, dark-eyed,
red-lipped lad to whom the Old Woman of Beare had
given the name of Flann.
No one had seen the King who lived
in the Red Castle, Dermott and Downal told the other
two. He was called the Wry-faced King, and, on
account of his disfigurement, he let no one but his
Councilors see him.
“We are to go to his Castle
to-day,” said Dermott and Downal. “You
come too, brother,” said he to the King’s
Son.
“And you too, comrade,”
said Downal to Flann. “Why should we not
all go? By Ogma! Are we not all sons of
Kings?”
Flann wondered if he would see the
King’s daughter, Flame-of-Wine. He would
surely go to the Castle.
They drank ale, played chess and talked
until it was afternoon. Then the grooms who were
with Downal and Dermott brought the four youths new
red cloaks. They put them on and went towards
the King’s Castle.
“Brother,” said Dermott
to the King’s Son, “I want to tell you
that we are not going back to our father’s Castle
nor to his Kingdom. We have taken the world for
our pillow. We are going to leave the grooms asleep
one fine morning, and go as the salmon goes down the
river.”
“Why do you want to leave our father’s
Kingdom?”
“Because we don’t want
to rule nor to learn to rule. We’ll let
you, brother, do all that. We’re going
to learn the trade of a sword-smith. We would
make fine swords. And with the King of Senlabor
there is a famous sword-smith, and we are going to
learn the trade from him.”
The four went to the Red Castle, and
they were brought in and they went and sat on the
benches to wait for the King’s Steward who would
receive them. And while they waited they watched
the play of a pet fox in the courtyard. Flann
was wondering all the time if the Princess Flame-of-Wine
would pass through the court-yard or come into the
hall where they waited.
Then he saw her come up the courtyard.
She saw the youths in the hall and she turned round
to watch the pet fox for a while. Then she came
into the chamber and stood near the door.
She wore a mask across her face, but
her brow and mouth and chin were shown. The youths
saluted her, and she bent her head to them. One
of the women who had brought birds to the Fair followed
her, bringing a cage. Flame-of-Wine talked to
this woman in a strange language.
Although she talked to the woman,
Flann saw that she watched his three companions.
Him she did not notice, because the bench on which
he sat was behind the others. Flame-of-Wine looked
at the King’s Son first, and then turned her
eyes from him. She bent her head to listen to
what Downal and Dermott were saying. Flann she
did not look at at all, and he became sick at heart
of the Red Castle.
The King’s Steward came into
the Hall and when he announced who the youths were three
sons of the King of Ireland traveling with their foster-brother Flame-of-Wine
went over and spoke to them. “May we see
you to-morrow, Kings’ Sons,” she said.
“To-morrow is our feast of the Gathering of
Apples. It might be pleasant for you to hear music
in the King’s garden.”
She smiled on Downal and Dermott and
on the King’s Son and went out of the Chamber.
The King’s Steward feasted the four youths and
afterwards made them presents. But Flann did
not heed what he ate nor what he heard said, nor what
present was given him.
III
The four youths left the Castle and
Downal and Dermott took their own way when they came
to the foot-bridge that was across the river.
Then when they were crossing it the King’s Son
and Flann saw two figures a middle-aged,
sturdy man and an old, broken-looking woman meet
before the Bull’s Field. “It is the
Gobaun Saor,” said the King’s Son.
“It is the Spae-Woman,” said Flann.
They went to them, each wishing to greet his friend
and helper.
There they saw a sturdy, middle-aged
man and a broken-looking old woman. But the woman
looking on the man saw one who had full wisdom to plan
and full strength to build, whose wisdom and whose
strength could neither grow nor diminish. And
the man looking on the woman saw one whose brow had
all quiet, whose heart had all benignity. “Hail,
Gobaun, Builder for the Gods,” said the woman.
“Hail, Grania Oi, Reconciler for the Gods,”
said the man.
Then the two youths came swiftly up
to them, and the King’s Son greeted the middle-aged
man, and Flann kissed the hands of the old woman.
“What of your search, King’s Son?”
said the Gobaun Saor.
“I have found the Unique Tale,
but not what went before nor what comes after it,”
said the King’s Son.
“I will clear the Sword of Light
of its stain when you bring me the whole of the Unique
Tale,” said the Gobaun Saor.
“I would search the whole world
for it,” said the King’s Son. “But
now the time is becoming short for me.”
“Be quick and active,” said the Gobaun
Saor. “I have set up my forge,” said
he, “outside the town between two high stones.
When you bring the whole of the Tale to me I shall
clear your sword.”
“Will you not tell him, Gobaun
Saor,” said the Spae-Woman, “where he may
find the one who will tell him the rest of the story?”
“If he sees one he knows in
this town,” said the Gobaun Saor, “let
him mount a horse he has mounted before and pursue
that one and force him to tell what went before and
what comes after the Unique Tale.”
Saying this the Gobaun Saor turned
away and walked along the road that went out of the
town.
The Spae-Woman had brought besoms
to the town to sell. She showed the two youths
the little house she lived in while she was there.
It was filled with the heather-stalks which she bound
together for besoms.
They left the Spae-Woman and went
through the town, the King of Ireland’s Son
searching every place for a man he knew or a horse
he had mounted before, while Flann thought about the
Princess Flame-of-Wine, and how little she considered
him beside the King’s Son and Dermott and Downal.
They came to where a crowd was standing before a conjurer’s
booth. They halted and stood waiting for the conjurer
to appear. He came out and put a ladder standing
upright with nothing to lean against and began climbing
up. Up, up, up, he went, and the ladder grew higher
and higher as he climbed. Flann thought he would
climb into the sky. Then the ladder got smaller
and smaller and Flann saw the conjurer coming down
on the other side. “He has come here to
take that horse,” said a voice behind the King
of Ireland’s Son.
The King’s Son looked round,
and on the outskirts of the crowd he saw a man with
a hare-skin cap and a protruding eye who was holding
a reddish horse, while he watched the conjuror.
The King of Ireland’s Son knew the horse it
was the Slight Red Steed that had carried him and Fedelma
from the Enchanter’s house and had brought
him to the Cave where he had found the Sword of Light.
He looked at the conjuror again and he saw he was
no other than the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands.
Then it crossed his mind what the Gobaun Saor had
said to him.
He had seen a man he knew and a horse
he had mounted before. He was to mount that horse,
follow the man, and force him to tell the rest of the
Unique Tale.
The King’s Son drew back to
the outskirts of the crowd. He snatched the bridle
from the hands of Mogue, the man who held it, and jumped
up on the back of the Slight Red Steed.
As soon as he did this the ladder
that was standing upright fell on the ground.
The people shouted and broke away. And then the
King’s Son saw the Enchanter jump across a house
and make for the gate of the town.
But if he could jump across a house
so could the Slight Red Steed. The King’s
Son turned its head, plucked at its rein, and over
the same house it sprang too. The more he ran
the more swift the Enchanter became. He jumped
over the gate of the town, the Slight Red Steed after
him. He went swiftly across the country, making
high springs over ditches and hedges. No other
steed but the Slight Red Steed could have kept its
rider in sight of him.
IV
Up hill and down dale the Enchanter
went, but, mounted on the Slight Red Steed, the King
of Ireland’s Son was in hot pursuit. The
Enchanter raced up the side of the seventh hill, and
when the King’s Son came to the top of it he
found no one in sight.
He raced on, however, and he passed
a dead man hanging from a tree. He raced on and
on, but still the Enchanter was not to be seen.
Then the thought came into his mind that the man who
was hanging from the tree and who he thought was dead
was the crafty old Enchanter. He turned the Slight
Red Steed round and raced back. The man that had
been hanging from the tree was there no longer.
The King’s Son turned his horse
amongst the trees and began to search for the Enchanter.
He found no trace of him. “I have lost again,”
he said. Then he threw the bridle on the neck
of the horse and he said, “Go your own way now,
my Slight Red Steed.”
When he said that the Slight Red Steed
twitched its ears and galloped towards the West.
It went through woods and across streams, and when
the crows were flying home and the kites were flying
abroad it brought the King’s Son to a stone
house standing in the middle of a bog. “It
may be the Enchanter is in this house,” said
the King’s Son. He jumped off the Slight
Red Steed, pushed the door of the house open, and there,
seated on a chair in the middle of the floor with
a woman sitting beside him, was the Enchanter of the
Black Back-Lands. “So,” said the Enchanter,
“my Slight Red Steed has brought you to me.”
“So,” said the King’s
Son, “I have found you, my crafty old Enchanter.”
“And now that you have found
me, what do you want of me?” said the Enchanter.
“Your head,” said the
King’s Son, drawing the tarnished Sword of Light.
“Will nothing less than my head
content you?” said the Enchanter.
“Nothing less unless
it be what went before, and what comes after the Unique
Tale.”
“The Unique Tale,” said
the Enchanter. “I will tell you what I know
of it.” Thereupon he began
I was a Druid and the Son of a Druid,
and I had learned the language of the birds.
And one morning, as I walked abroad, I heard a blackbird
and a robin talking, and when I heard what they said
I smiled to myself.
“Now the woman I had just married
noticed that I kept smiling, and she questioned me.
‘Why do you keep smiling to yourself?’
I would not tell her. ’Is that not the
truth? ’” said the Enchanter to a woman
who sat beside him. “It is the truth,”
said she.
“On the third day I was still
smiling to myself, and my wife questioned me, and
when I did not answer threw dish-water into my face.
’May blindness come upon you if you do not tell
me why you are smiling,’ said she. Then
I told her why I smiled to myself. I had heard
what the birds said. The blackbird said to the
robin, ’Do you know that just under where we
are sitting are three rods of enchantment, and if one
were to take one of them and strike a man with it,
he would be changed to any creature one named?’
That is what I had heard the birds say and I smiled
because I was the only creature who knew about the
rods of enchantment.
“My wife made me show her where
the rods were. She cut one of them when I went
away. That evening she came behind me and struck
me with a rod. ‘Go out now and roam as
a wolf,’ she said, and there and then I was
changed into a wolf. ‘Is that not true?’”
said he to the woman. “It is true,”
she said.
“And being changed into a wolf,
I went through the woods seeking wolf’s meat.
And now you must ask my wife to tell you more of the
story.” The King of Ireland’s Son
turned to the woman who sat on the seat next the Enchanter,
and asked her to tell him more of the story. And
thereupon she began
Before all that happened I was known
as the Maid of the Green Mantle. One day a King
rode up a mountain with five score followers and a
mist came on them as they rode. The King saw
his followers no more. He called out after a
while and four score answered him. And he called
out again after another while and two score answered
him. And after another while he called out again
and only a score answered him through the mist, and
when he called out again no one answered him at all.
“The King went up the mountain
until he came to the place where I lived with the
Druids who reared me. He stayed long in that place.
The King loved me for a while and I loved the King,
and when he went away I followed him.
“Because he would not come back
to me I enchanted him so that there were times when
he was left between life and death. Once when
he was seemingly dead a girl watched by him, and she
followed his spirit into many terrible places and
so broke my enchantment.”
“Sheen was the girl’s
name,” said the King of Ireland’s Son.
“Sheen was her name,”
said the woman. “He brought her to his Kingdom,
and made her his queen. After that I married the
man who is here now the Enchanter of the
Black Back-Lands, the Son of the Druid of the Gray
Rock. Ask him now to tell you the rest of the
story.”
When she changed me into a gray wolf,”
said the Enchanter, “I went through the woods
searching for what a wolf might eat, but could find
nothing to stay my hunger. Then I came back and
stood outside my house and the woman who had been
called the Maid of the Green Mantle came to me.
‘I will give you back your human form,’
she said, ’if you do as I bid you.’
“I promised her I would do as she bade.
“She bade me go to a King’s
house where a child had been born. She bade me
steal the child away. I went to the King’s
house. I went into the chamber and I stole the
child from the mother’s side. Then I ran
through the woods. But in the end I fell into
a trap that the Giant Crom Duv had set for the wolves
that chased his stray cattle.
“For a night I lay in the trap
with the child beside me. Then Crom Duv came
and lifted out wolf and child. Three Hags with
Long Teeth were there when he took us out of the trap,
and he gave the child to one of them, telling her
to rear it so that the child might be a servant for
him.
“He put me into a sack, promising
himself that he would give me a good beating.
He left me on the floor of his house. But while
he was gone for his club I bit my way out of the sack
and made my escape. I came back to my own house,
and my wife struck me with the wand of enchantment,
and changed me from a wolf into a man again.
‘Is that not true?’” said he to
the woman.
“It is true,” said she.
“That is all of the Unique Tale
that I know,” said the Enchanter of the Black
Back-Lands, “and now that I have told it to you,
put up your sword.”
“I will put up no sword,”
said the King of Ireland’s Son, “until
you tell me what King and Queen were the father and
mother of the child that was reared by the Hags of
the Long Teeth.”
“I made no promise to tell you
that,” said the En-chanter of the Black Back-Lands.
“You have got the story you asked for, and now
let me see your back going through my door.”
“Yes, you have got the story,
and be off with you now,” said the woman who
sat by the fire.
He put up his sword; he went to the
door; he left the house of the Enchanter of the Black
Back-Lands. He mounted the Slight Red Steed and
rode off. He knew now what went before and what
came after the Unique Tale. The Gobaun Saor would
clean the blemish of the blade of the Sword of Light
and would show him how to come to the Land of Mist.
Then he would win back his love Fedelma.
He thought too on the tidings he had
for his comrade Flann Flann was the Son
of the King who was called the Hunter-King and of Sheen
whose brothers had been changed into seven wild geese.
He shook his horse’s reins and went back towards
the Town of the Red Castle.
V
Flann thought upon the Princess Flame-of-Wine.
He walked through the town after the King’s
Son had ridden after the Enchanter, without noticing
anyone until he heard a call and saw Mogue standing
beside a little tent that he had set up before the
Bull’s Field.
Flann went to Mogue and found him
very disconsolate on account of the loss of the horse
he had brought into the town. “This is a
bad town to be in,” said Mogue, “and unless
I persuade yourself to become partners with me I shall
have done badly in it. Join with me now and we’ll
do some fine feats together.”
“It would not become a King’s
Son to join with a robber-captain,” said Flann.
“Fine talk, fine talk,”
said Mogue. He thought that Flann was jesting
with him when he spoke of himself as a King’s
Son.
“I want to sell three treasures
I have with me,” said Mogue. “I have
the most wonderful things that were ever brought into
this town.”
“Show them to me,” said Flann.
Mogue opened one of his packs and
took out a box. When he opened this box a fragrance
came such as Flann had never felt before. “What
is that that smells like a garden of sweet flowers?”
said Flann.
“It is the Rose of Sweet Smells,”
said Mogue, and he took a little rose out of the box.
“It never withers and its fragrance is never
any less. It is a treasure for a King’s
daughter. But I will not show it in this town.”
“And what is that shining thing in the box?”
“It is the Comb of Magnificence.
That is another treasure for a King’s daughter.
The maiden who would wear it would look the most queenly
woman in the Kingdom. But I won’t show
that either.”
“What else have you, Mogue?”
“A girdle. The woman who
wears it would have to speak the truth.”
The Town of
Flann thought he would do much to
get the Rose of Sweet Smells or the Comb of Magnificence
and bring them as presents to the Princess Flame-of-Wine.
He slept in Mogue’s tent, and
at the peep of day, he rose up and went to the House
of Hospitality where Dermott and Downal were.
With them he would go to the King’s orchard,
and he would see, and perhaps he would speak to, Flame-of-Wine.
But Dermott and Downal were not in the Brufir’s.
Flann wakened their grooms and he and they made search
for the two youths. But there was no trace of
Dermott and Downal. It seemed they had left before
daybreak with their horses. Flann went with the
grooms to the gate of the town. There they heard
from the watchman that the two youths had gone through
the gate and that they had told the watchman to tell
the grooms that they had gone to take the world for
their pillow.
The grooms were dismayed to hear this,
and so indeed was Flann. Without the King’s
Son and without Downal and Dermott how would he go
to the King’s Garden? He went back to Mogue’s
tent to consider what he should do. And first
he thought he would not go to the Festival of the
Gathering of the Apples, as he knew that Flame-of-Wine
had only asked him with his comrades. And then
he thought that whatever else happened he would go
to the King’s orchard and see Flame-of-Wine.
If he had one of the wonderful things
that Mogue had shown him the Rose of Sweet
Smells or the Comb of Magnificence! These would
show her that he was of some consequence. If
he had either of these wonderful things and offered
it to her she might be pleased with him!
He sat outside the tent and waited
for Mogue to return. When he came Flann said
to him, “I will go with you as a servant, and
I will serve you well although I am a King’s
Son, if you will give me something now.”
“What do you want from me?” said Mogue.
“Give me the Rose of Sweet Smells,” said
Flann.
“Sure that’s the finest thing I have.
I couldn’t give you that.”
“I will serve you for two years if you will
give it to me,” said Flann.
“No,” said Mogue.
“I will serve you for three
years if you will give it to me,” said Flann.
“I will give it to you if you
will serve me for three years.” Thereupon
Mogue opened his pack and took the box out. He
opened it and put the Rose of Sweet Smells into Flann’s
hand.
At once Flann started off for the
King’s orchard. The Steward who had seen
him the day before signed to the servants to let him
pass through the gate. He went into the King’s
orchard.
Maidens were singing the “Song
for the Time of the Blossoming of the Apple-trees”
and all that day and night Flann held their song in
his mind
The touch of hands that drew it
down
Kindled to blossom all the bough
O breathe the wonder of the branch,
And let it through the darkness
go!
Youths were gathering apples, and
the Princess Flame-of-Wine walked by herself on the
orchard paths.
At last she came to where Flann stood
and lifting her eyes she looked at him. “I
had companions,” said Flann, “but they
have gone away.”
“They are unmannerly,”
said Flame-of-Wine with anger, and she turned away.
Flann took the rose from under his
cloak. Its fragrance came to Flame-of-Wine and
she turned to him again.
“This is the Rose of Sweet Smells,”
said Flann. “Will you take it from me,
Princess?”
She came back to him and took the
rose in her hand, and there was wonder in her face.
“It will never wither, and its
fragrance will never fail,” said Flann.
“It is the Rose of Sweet Smells. A King’s
daughter should have it.”
Flame-of-Wine held the rose in her
hand, and smiled on Flann. “What is your
name, King’s Son?” said she, with bright
and friendly eyes.
“Flann,” he said.
“Walk with me, Flann,”
said she. They walked along the orchard paths,
and the youths and maidens turned towards the fragrance
that the Rose of Sweet Smells gave. Flame-of-Wine
laughed, and said, “They all wonder at the treasure
you have brought me, Flann. If you could hear
what I shall tell them about you! I shall tell
them that you are the son of a King of Arabia no
less. They will believe me because you have brought
me such a treasure! I suppose there is nothing
more wonderful than this rose!”
Then Flann told her about the other
wonderful thing he had seen the Comb of
Magnificence. “A King’s daughter should
have such a treasure,” said Flame-of-Wine.
“Oh, how jealous I should be if someone brought
the Comb of Magnificence to either of my two sisters to
Bloom-of-Youth or Breast-of-Light. I should think
then that this rose was not such a treasure after
all.”
When he was leaving the orchard she
plucked a flower and gave it to him. “Come
and walk in the orchard with me to-morrow,” she
said.
“Surely I will come,” said Flann.
“Bring the Comb of Magnificence
to me too,” said she. “I could not
be proud of this rose, and I could not love you so
well for bringing it to me if I thought that any other
maiden had the Comb of Magnificence. Bring it
to me, Flann.”
“I will bring it to you,” said Flann.
VI
He was at the gate of the town when
the King of Ireland’s Son rode back on the Slight
Red Steed. The King’s Son dismounted, put
his arm about Flann and told him that he now had the
whole of the Unique Tale. They sat before Mogue’s
tent, and the King’s Son told Flann the whole
of the story he had searched for how a
King traveling through the mist had come to where
Druids and the Maid of the Green Mantle lived, how
the King was enchanted, and how the maiden Sheen released
him from the enchantment. He told him, too, how
the Enchanter was changed into a wolf, and how the
wolf carried away Sheen’s child. “And
the Unique Tale is in part your own history, Flann,”
said the King of Ireland’s Son, “for the
child that was left with the Hags of the Long Teeth
was no one else than yourself, for you, Flann, have
on your breast the stars that denote the Son of a
King.”
“It is so, it is so,”
said Flann, “and I will find out what King and
Queen were my father and my mother.”
“Go to the Hags of the Long
Teeth and force them to tell you,” said the
King’s Son.
“I will do that,” said
Flann, but in his own mind he said, “I will first
bring the Comb of Magnificence to Flame-of-Wine, and
I will tell her that I will have to be away for so
many years with Mogue and I shall ask her to remember
me until I come back to her. Then I shall go to
the Hags of the Long Teeth and force them to tell
me what King and Queen were my father and mother.”
The King of Ireland’s Son left
Flann to his thoughts and went to find the Gobaun
Saor who would clear for him the tarnished blade of
the Sword of Light and would show him the way to where
the King of the Land of Mist had his dominion.
Mogue spent his time with the ballad-singers
and the story-tellers around the market-stake, and
when he came back to his tent he wanted to drink ale
and go to sleep, but Flann turned him from the ale-pot
by saying to him, “I want the Comb of Magnificence
from you, Mogue.”
“By my skin,” said Mogue,
“it’s my blood you’ll want next,
my lad.”
“If you give me the Comb of
Magnificence, Mogue, I shall serve you for six years three
years more than I said yesterday. I shall serve
you well, even though I am the son of a King and can
find out who my father and mother are.”
“I won’t give you the Comb of Magnificence.”
“I’ll serve you seven years if you do,
Mogue.”
Mogue drank and drank out of the ale-pot,
frowning to himself. He put the ale-pot away
and said, “I suppose your life won’t be
any good to you unless I give you the Comb of Magnificence?”
“That is so, Mogue.”
Mogue sighed heavily, but he went
to his pack and took out the box that the treasures
were in. He let Flann take out the Comb of Magnificence.
“Seven years you will have to
serve me,” said Mogue, “and you will have
to begin your service now.”
“I will begin it now,”
said Flann, but he stole out of the tent, put on his
red cloak and went to the King’s orchard.
VII
“Oh, Flann, my treasure-bringer,”
said Flame-of-Wine, when she came to him. “I
have brought you the Comb of Magnificence,” said
he. Her hands went out and her eyes became large
and shining. He put the Comb of Magnificence
into her hands.
She put the comb into the back of
her hair, and she became at once like the tower that
is builded what broke its height and turned
the full sunlight from it has been taken away, and
the tower stands, the pride of a King and the delight
of a people. When she put the Comb of Magnificence
into her hair she became of all Kings’ daughters
the most stately.
She walked with Flann along the paths
of the orchard, but always she was watching her shadow
to see if it showed her added magnificence. Her
shadow showed nothing. She took Flann to the well
in the orchard, and looked down into it, but her image
in the well did not show her added magnificence either.
Soon she became tired of walking on the orchard paths,
and when she came to the gate she walked no further
but stood with Flann at the gate. “A kiss
for you, Flann, my treasure-bringer,” said she,
and she kissed him and then went hurrying away.
And as Flann watched her he thought that although
she had kissed him he was not now in her mind.
He went out of the orchard disconsolate,
thinking that when he was on his seven years’
service with Mogue Princess Flame-of-Wine might forget
him. As he walked on he passed the little house
where the Spae-Woman had her besoms and heather-stalks.
She ran to him when she saw him.
“Have you heard that the King’s
Son has found what went before, and what comes after
the Unique Tale?” said she.
“That I have. And I have
to go to the Hags of the Long Teeth to find out who
my father and mother were, for surely I am the child
who was taken from Sheen.”
“And do you remember that Sheen’s
seven brothers were changed into seven wild geese?”
said she.
“I remember that, mother.”
“And seven wild geese they will
be until a maiden who loves you will give seven drops
of her heart’s blood to bring them back to their
human shapes.”
“I remember that, mother.”
“Whatever maid you love, her you must ask if
she would give seven drops of her heart’s blood.
It may be that she would. It may be that she
would not and that you would still love her without
thought of her giving one drop of blood of her little
finger.”
“I cannot ask the maiden I love
to give seven drops of her heart’s blood.”
“Who is the maiden you love?”
“The King’s daughter, Flame-of-Wine.”
He told the Spae-Woman about the presents
he had given her he told the Spae-Woman
too that he had bound himself to seven years’
service to Mogue on account of these presents.
The Spae-Woman said, “What other treasures are
in Mogue’s pack?”
“One treasure more the Girdle
of Truth. Whoever puts it on can speak nothing
but the truth.”
Said the Spae-Woman, “You are
to take the Girdle of Truth and give it to Flame-of-Wine.
Tell Mogue that I said he is to give it to you without
adding one day to your years’ service. When
Flame-of-Wine has put the girdle around her waist
ask her for the seven drops of heart’s blood
that will bring your mother’s seven brothers
back to their human shapes. She may love you
and yet refuse to give you the seven drops from her
heart. But tell her of this, and hear what she
will say.”
Flann left the Spae-Woman’s
and went back to Mogue’s tent. The loss
of his treasures had overcome Mogue and he was drinking
steadily and went from one bad temper to another.
“Begin your service now by watching
the tent while I sleep,” said he.
“There is one thing more I want
from you, Mogue,” said Flann.
“By the Eye of Balor! you’re
a cuckoo in my nest. What do you want now?”
“The Girdle of Truth.”
“Is it my last treasure you’d be taking
on me?”
“The Spae-Woman bid me tell
you that you’re to give me the Girdle of Truth.”
“It’s a pity of me, it’s
a pity of me,” said Mogue. But he took the
box out of his pack, and let Flann take the girdle.
VIII
Flame-of-Wine saw him. She walked
slowly down the orchard path so that all might notice
the stateliness of her appearance.
“I am glad to see you again,
Flann,” said she. “Have your comrades
yet come back to my father’s town?”
Flann told her that one of them had returned.
“Bid him come see me,”
said Flame-of-Wine. Then she saw the girdle in
his hands.
“What is it you have?” said she.
“Something that went with the other treasures a
girdle.”
“Will you not let me have it,
Flann?” She took the girdle in her hands.
“Tell me, youth,” she said, “how
you got all these treasures?”
“I will have to give seven years’ service
for them,” Flann said.
“Seven years,” said she,
“but you will remember will you not that
I loved you for bringing them to me?”
“Will you remember me until I come back from
my seven years’ service?”
“Oh, yes,” said Flame-of-Wine,
and she put the girdle around her waist as she spoke.
“Someone said to me,”
said Flann, “that I should ask the maiden who
loved me for seven drops of her heart’s blood.”
The girdle was now round Flame-of-Wine’s waist.
She laughed with mockery. “Seven drops of
heart’s blood,” said she. “I
would not give this fellow seven eggs out of my robin’s
nest. I tell him I love him for bringing me the
three treasures for a King’s daughter.
I tell him that, but I should be ashamed of myself
if I thought I could have any love for such a fellow.”
“Do you tell me the truth now,” said Flann.
“The truth, the truth,”
said she, “of course I tell you the truth.
Oh, and there are other truths. I shall be ashamed
forever if I tell them. Oh, oh. They are
rising to my tongue, and every time I press them back
this girdle tightens and tightens until I think it
will kill me.”
“Farewell, then, Flame-of-Wine.”
“Take off the girdle, take off
the girdle! What truths are in my mind!
I shall speak them and I shall be ashamed. But
I shall die in pain if I hold them back. Loosen
the girdle, loosen the girdle! Take the rose you
gave me and loosen the girdle.” She let
the rose fall on the ground.
“I will loosen the girdle for you,” said
Flann.
“But loosen it now. How
I have to strive to keep truths back, and oh, what
pain I am in! Take the Comb of Magnificence, and
loosen the girdle.” She threw the comb
down on the ground.
He took up the Rose of Sweet Smells
and the Comb of Magnificence and he took the girdle
off her waist. “Oh, what a terrible thing
I put round my waist,” said Flame-of-Wine.
“Take it away, Flann, take it away. But
give me back the Rose of Sweet Smells and the Comb
of Magnificence, give them back to me and
I shall love you always.”
“You cannot love me. And
why should I give seven years in service for your
sake? I will leave these treasures back in Mogue’s
pack.”
“Oh, you are a peddler, a peddler.
Go from me,” said Flame-of-Wine. “And
do not be in the Town of the Red Castle to-morrow,
or I shall have my father’s hunting dogs set
upon you.” She turned away angrily and went
into the Castle.
Flann went back to Mogue’s tent
and left the Rose of Sweet Smells, the Comb of Magnificence
and the Girdle of Truth upon Mogue’s pack.
He sat in the corner and cried bitterly. Then
the King of Ireland’s Son came and told him
that his sword was bright once more that
the stains that had blemished its blade had been cleared
away by the Gobaun Saor who had also shown him the
way to the Land of the Mist. He put his arm about
Flann and told him that he was starting now to rescue
his love Fedelma from the Castle of the King of the
Land of Mist.