Celtic Tales, Louey Chisholm [reading like a writer .txt] 📗

cry and the hill-fox bark. Then move slowly on your way, but speak to none whom ye may meet, and when ye leave the wood let not your lips tell those things ye shall have seen and heard.’

With these words Lavarcam left the three men, and entered the cottage.

‘Come, Deirdre,’ she cried, ‘the crisp snow glistens in the sunshine. Let us wander forth.’

And Deirdre came, and dreamily she trod where Lavarcam led. Of a sudden the older woman left her side, and bent as though she would gather a woodland flower. At the same moment was heard the cry of the jay and the bark of the hill-fox. Then came Lavarcam to the maiden’s side.

‘Passing strange is it,’ said Deirdre, ‘to hear the jay cry and the hill-fox bark while yet the snow lies thick.’

‘Heed not strange sounds, fair Deirdre, but cast thine eyes toward yonder well.’

And as Deirdre gazed she saw, as in a dream, the forms of three men come slowly through the forest.

‘These, Deirdre, are men,’ said Lavarcam.

‘Yet seem they not as the men I have seen ride by across the Moor of Loneliness, for they were fair to look upon, but mine eyes have no pleasure in beholding these strange forms.’

‘Yet you look upon Nathos, for these men are none other than the three sons of Usna.’

Deirdre started. ‘Idle are your words, false Lavarcam. Yonder walks not a man with skin white as snow, with cheek crimson as blood, nor with hair black as the raven’s wing. You lie!’ And the maid made haste, and she reached the men, and stood before them.

Amazed at her exceeding beauty, they gazed in silence. ‘Tell me if ye be the sons of Usna. Speak!’

But in wonder at the loveliness of the maiden, and in fear of the anger of Lavarcam, the men were dumb.

‘Speak!’ she again cried. ‘If indeed ye be Nathos and his brothers, then truly hath Concobar the King my pity.’

At these words the swineherd could no longer keep silence.

‘It is thy exceeding beauty that telleth us that thou art that Deirdre whom the King hideth in this forest. Why mock us by asking if we are the fairest of Concobar’s nobles? Clearly canst thou see we are but men of the hills, I a poor swineherd, and these men shepherds.’

‘Then wilt thou, swineherd, for truly do I believe thy words, get thee to the sons of Usna, and say to Nathos the eldest, that in the forest beyond the Moor of Loneliness, Deirdre awaits his coming. Tell him that tomorrow, an hour before the setting of the sun, he will find her by this well.’

‘If it be known that I so break the law of the King, I die, yet will I go right gladly.’

Then Deirdre left the men, and walked slowly after Lavarcam. And Lavarcam would fain have known what Deirdre had told the swineherd, but the girl told her nought, and was in a dream all that day and all the morrow.

It was in the wane of the morrow that Lavarcam went forth to take counsel of the King. And Deirdre ran with great speed to the well, but no man was there, and she waited long, but none came.

While Deirdre waited by the well, Lavarcam came near to the King’s palace. And lo! there, on the ground before her, lay the dead body of the swineherd. Thus was it made known to Lavarcam that in some wise Concobar the King had heard that the swineherd had spoken with Deirdre.

Therefore Lavarcam went not to the palace, but turned aside to the camp of the sons of Usna. And Nathos came out to her, and she told him of the loneliness of the fair Deirdre and of her longing to see him.

Then said Nathos, ‘But it may not be yet awhile, for Concobar found that the fair Deirdre had spoken with the swineherd, and for that cause lies he yonder, a dead man.’

‘Yet tarry not long, for if thou wouldst hunt in the forest, beyond the well, then surely wouldst thou see Deirdre the Star-eyed, and none should know.’

Seven days passed, and Deirdre roamed in the wood dreaming her dream, when of a sudden there came an unknown sound. Ah, could it be the hunting-horn of which Lavarcam had spoken in her tales of chase? The maiden paused. The horn ceased. Nathos had left the hunt and wandered through the glade. There, against a background of blue haze, encircled by a network of blossoming blackthorn, shone forth the fairest vision mortal eye had beheld.

Speech tarried as Nathos gazed spellbound.

At length the maiden questioned, ‘Nathos, son of Usna, what wouldst thou?’

‘Strange is it that thou shouldst know my name, most fair. No mortal art thou. Fain would I enter yonder cottage, did I but dare, and speak with the daughter of Felim the Harper. Yet it is death should the King know of my desire.’

‘I am that Deirdre whom thou seekest, and if I be fair in thine eyes, it pleaseth me well. It is for thee I have watched long, for is not thy skin white as snow, thy cheek crimson as blood, and thy hair black as the raven’s wing? Lonely are my days in this place, where none dwells save my nurse, my tutor, and Lavarcam.’

Never did harp-strings yield such music as her voice, never did fairy strains pour forth such wonder-stirring sound.

‘Art thou indeed Deirdre the Star-eyed, and is it that King Concobar keepeth thee here like some caged bird?’

[Illustration: ‘Art thou indeed Deirdre?’]

‘I am Deirdre, and it is the King’s will that I wander not forth from yonder cottage but by the side of Lavarcam. Ill would it please him that I should thus roam the forest alone.’

‘I love thee, Deirdre, and I would serve thee ever.’

‘I love thee, Nathos, and I would that I might be ever by thy side. Let me flee with thee from this place.’

Nathos knit his brows in thought. ‘Fair one, if we are seen as we leave the forest, then is it death to us both; and if we are not seen, still is it death, for when it is known of the King that Deirdre is fled, then will the land be searched until she be found, and then shall we die.’

‘But, Nathos, Concobar is not King in the land of Alba. Let us flee from Erin, and there in thine own land shall we surely find safety.’

‘Thou speakest well, brave Deirdre. If a host be sent from Concobar to Alba, then shall it be met by a host of mine own land. And a fair land it is. Scented with pine and seaweed are its shores, blue as thine eyes are its waters, and of its setting sun the glory cannot be told.’

‘Let us go forth,’ said Deirdre.

‘Then let it be now and without delay, or it may never be,’ and as Nathos uttered these words Deirdre saw a strange look in his eyes, and in a moment he had flung his javelin among the bracken but a few paces apart.

‘What beast wouldst thou slay?’ cried Deirdre, affrighted.

‘It was no beast,’ said Nathos, ‘but yonder among the bracken lieth a dead man, if my javelin missed not its mark.’

In fear and wonder Deirdre ran to the spot. No man lay there, but she saw on the bracken the form of a crouching man. She saw, too, the tracks that marked his escape.

Nathos followed her, and stooped to take his javelin from the ground. And there, beside it, lay a wooden-hilted knife.

‘It is as I thought,’ he said. ‘This knife is used but by the hillmen who are in bondage to Concobar. The King seeketh my life. Go thou, then, back to thy lonely cottage, and await that day when he shall make thee his Queen.’

‘Ask me not to turn from following thee, O Nathos, for thy way must be mine, this day and ever.’

‘Come, then,’ and Nathos took her by the hand.

Through the shadowy forest they walked swiftly, until of a sudden he bade her rest among the bracken. Then went he forward and told his waiting huntsmen to return by a long and winding path to the castle of the sons of Usna.

Three days would it thus take them to reach it, and Nathos with Deirdre would be there on the morrow, if, tarrying not, they walked on through the dark night. But Concobar’s messengers would follow the hounds, thinking so to capture Nathos.

‘By dawn, Deirdre, shall we reach the castle, and there may we rest in safety one day and one night. Then must we set out for the hills and lochs of Alba, and with us Ailne and Ardan, for if the King cometh and findeth me fled, then will he slay my brothers.’

On and on they sped, through the forest, across the Moor of Loneliness, up the glens and gorges, and over the hills. Above glimmered the pale stars, around them was the screech and the moan of wakeful bird and beast.

It was not till the dawn broke that they rested on the mountain-side. There they stayed till the pink stole through the grey, and the sky gleamed mother-o’-pearl. Then they rose and followed the stream that trickled to the valley below. And now Nathos was glad.

‘Look, Deirdre, yonder stands the castle of the sons of Usna.’ And with that he gave a cry known by the brothers each of the other, and Ailne and Ardan came forth gladly. But when they stood before Deirdre, so great was their wonder at her exceeding beauty, that they stood spellbound and uttered no word.

Then Nathos spake: ‘The fair maiden whom ye behold is none other than Deirdre, the daughter of Felim the Harper. From this day I hold her as my wedded wife, and to you she cometh as a sister.’

But when the brothers heard, they were filled with fear, for had not the King Concobar vowed that this same fair maid should be his Queen? And had not the Wise Man foretold the sorrow that the daughter of Felim should bring upon the land?

‘I ask none to share the sorrow that may come,’ said Nathos. ‘Tomorrow Deirdre and I set forth for the bay where our galley is harboured, and if so be that we gain the shores of Alba, before Concobar overtake us, there, if he come thither, shall he be met by a host of our own land. Yet, lest the King should follow me hither, and, finding me not, seek to slay you, were it not well that ye leave this place?’

Ardan spake: ‘Not for fear of that which might come upon us, but for the love we bear you and our fair sister Deirdre will we never leave thee. If sorrow come upon thee, let it be upon us also. Are we not the children of one mother, and if death come, let us face it together like men. Are we not under a bond that we will stand each by each, even unto death?’

Then said Ailne, ‘As Ardan hath spoken, so let it be, for although the words of the Wise Man come to pass, and sorrow be upon us, yet will we not henceforth leave thee.’

But when Deirdre heard how the sons of Usna would thus face death for her sake, she sighed aloud. ‘Alas! it is not for me to bring sorrow upon the land. Let me even now return to the cottage in the forest, and there with Lavarcam will I live and die, unless it be that Concobar take me thence.’

But Ardan answered: ‘For fear of what may befall us, the sons