THE FOLK O’ DANU

 

Published by United Faedom Publishing 2020

 

 

Her beautiful features were contorted in rage as she sheathed her sword and stared at her sister. She sat wearily upon the large carved chair covered in soft green mosses in her sister’s lodging.

​​

“Carmun will marry and have three sons. In her black witchery, she’ll turn the Fey that betrays their kind, and it will ill-affected the earth. They must be stopped. One day they’ll appear at the Isle o’ the Skye and the Isle of Ire’lan too. I’ve seen it, I have. The people will cry to us for protection...” she began the argument again.

 

Anyáh shook her head sadly. “We each have our destiny, Eéfah. Mine is not war...”

 

“Tis us they challenge, but man they curse. They be cowards, banóglach,” she spat the words. “I cannot sit back an’ watch the helpless die. It’ll be the Fey they come for next. You remember my words... they will not stop with the menfolk.”

 

“Banóglach?” Anyáh smiled. “Cowards they may well be... even more why they’ll not attack the Daughters of Danu. You give them too much credit...”

 

“It was certain one day we would part, Anyáh. This is the day,” Eéfah said.

 

“True, and I will miss ‘ya sister,” Anyáh answered her. “You're right... as much as it pains me heart. Our Blessed Mother said our life roads would part.”

​​

“Aye, I remember. The foretelling included a tragedy for one of us. I pray it’s not thee, fair sister,” Eéfah said.

​​

“What about Scathach? Does she know they’ll make for the Isle o’ the Skye?”

 

“Yeah, I have visited. She built a formidable castle and trains warriors for battle but has no interest in the people or Carmun and her brood...” Eéfah laughed. “Carmun will face a hornet’s nest when she lands there. That’s for certain, ‘tis a shame she’ll not help us.”

 

“Why Eéfah? Why do ye feel the plight of menfolk who curse us?”

 

“Not all menfolk curse us, Anyáh. They do not understand the Fey Folk. Me people, Tuatha Dé Danann... will defeat the evil magic in the coming time.”

 

“Tuatha Dé Danann is a beautiful name for yer people. The Folk o' Danu,” she whispered. “Mother will be pleased.”

 

“Aye. Me Fey, join me to help menfolk of their free will.”

 

“Where'll you go?" Anyáh asked. “Have you found yer place?”

 

“Aye, in the northland on the Bay o' Skaill. We'll go underground to build our city, Skerrabra. It’ll be an easy passage to the Otherworld and a mighty stronghold for defense. ‘Tis a perfect location. Are you certain ye won’t join us?”

 

She shook her head with a heavy heart. “I'll not lead me fair Fey to war. The Carmun and the Sidhe have a right to be who they are... I'll not judge, Sister. That is me final word.”

​​

“Aye. You'll know where to find me then. Be well.” She grasped her sister’s forearm in the gesture of blessing, and Anyáh did the same. “May The blessing of light be upon you - light without and light within,” Eéfah said and left the room.

​​

Anyáh’s tear-filled eyes overflowed as she watched her go and whispered... “And on you as well, me beloved sister.”

 

***

 

As the immortal sisters, daughters of the Goddess Danu said goodbye. Carmun, the witch from Athens, was stroking her swollen belly. Eéfah built her city... while Carmun married and gave birth to the sons of which Eéfah foretold.

 

Carmun stood back and watched her teenage sons... Soon, she thought. “Dub, take that out to the country. I don’t want the castle damaged,” she called as Dub chased his brothers with lightning bolts. She was soft and beautiful with a honeyed voice that belayed the evil at her core. The boys were powerful and greedy, like their mother. Their lust for violence and conquest was unquenchable. Carmun had to take care they did not harm one another.

 

Many years came and went before the time Eéfah foretold came to pass. Dub, Dother, and Dain made their way through the lands, stealing and murdering, laying waste to outlying settlements. Emptying wheat and corn silos... poisoning the ground. Building an army of aberrant Fey. Preparing for their greatest coup. Carmun turned the Fey, who followed them into the Sluagh, throngs of ghostly, wraithlike beings who terrorized the countryside as harbingers of death and pestilence. One touch from a Sluagh was certain death to menfolk.

​​

Dother cursed the Isle of Ire’lan and the whole of the Northern Kingdoms. The soil poisoned with a pestilence so that most food planted would rot on the vine and in the ground and what they ate began a contagious plague transmitted from person to person.

 

At the same time, Dub affected the climate and great hailstones fell from the sky on the Northern Isle and winters turned harsh and unbearable. In the spring, uncommon floods and storms destroyed houses and farmlands and the Sluagh carted off many a soul.

​​

***

 

Caolan sat astraddle a migary fence and watched his father’s sheep. They’d been mighty lucky, he thought. They’d not lost a brother or sister or mother or father to the plague and pestilence.

 

He whistled a shrill note to call meandering sheep back to the herd. “Aye, what’s wrong with ye now?” he asked. “Come back y’hear and stop yer wandering’... The sheep that had wandered away from the herd began to fall.

​​

“O’God, no!” he cried, and backed away from the herd. He knew what had happened now. The rot was in their soil, killing their sheep and if he went near... he’d catch it.

 

Caolan McDaugh ran the three miles to his home. Da will be there. He’ll know what’s to do. He reached home, heaving for breath to find no one in the yard. The animals hadn't been let out for the day... He knew... in his heart. He knew his family was gone. He took only hard biscuits and water on his early trek to pasture. They would ‘a had milk from the sheep and eggs from the chickens and freshly dug potatoes. He covered his mouth as he entered the door. His heart pounded in his chest, but his home was quiet and filled with people he didn’t know.

 

His Ma came from the back of the house. “Hurry Cao, we haven’t much time. Yer clothes are on yer bed. Get dressed and pack what yer takin.’ We’ll not be back.”

​​

He stood staring at his Ma. She wore tight leather leggings and a white silk under blouse. Her long hair caught up in a braid she was still working on. “What is about, Ma?”

 

“No time. We’ll explain later. Help yer brothers when ye're done.” She started to walk away, then turned. “Keep the youngsters close to ye, Caolan. Their lives’re in danger. Keep yer eyes open.” She walked away and Caolan’s heart thudded against his chest for an entirely different reason now.

​​

He made his way through the people. They nodded occasionally, and they were all dressed the same in thick brown leather jerkins. His two young brothers and sister were sitting quietly in the room they all slept in. They ran to him when he walked through the door. They also wore the jerkins. A splendid leather jerkin and breeches with a tan linen undershirt laid across his bed.

​​

His father walked in behind him. “Good, ye’re here, Caolan. Are ye ready, youngsters?”

​​

“Father?”

 

“Later, Cao. Get dressed and come on. We’ll be marching.”

​​

***

They were ready, and still more came. A striking woman with bright red hair and fair skin appeared before them. Everyone bowed in some form, except Caolan and the youngsters. She was dressed like his Ma in a leather jerkin and tight leggings with high boots sporting a sword that dangled from her side. “We’re moving. Children at center, warriors outside. Go.”

 

There were many hundreds of people with the woman. They set off at a slow jog. Some men and women moved to the outside, his parents in front, with the woman. His mother looked so different. Gone was the gray muslin dress she always wore; replaced by those leather leggings and a long leather jerkin the same as he wore over his clothing. She carried a sword and other tools and weapons. A shield of some kind lay flat against her back and her hair hung over it in a straight, thick braid to her waist. He was most impressed by her stature... it seemed she was taller and thinner and altogether a different person than his mother had been.

 

“Cao, I’m weary, I am...” Brea called to him. He smiled and hefted her onto his shoulders. She was only six years old, and they had been moving at a stiff pace for hours with no break. She leaned her head onto his and he was sure she was sleeping. He kept her balanced and moved directly behind his brothers, keeping them in a tight group among the throng.

 

Just at sunset, the woman called a halt. Caolan sat with his siblings under an oak tree and gathered wood for a fire. One of the men they traveled with helped him build their fire.

 

“I’m Shaw,” he said, as Caolan thanked him and offered him water from the skin he carried to pasture. His brothers and sister had drunk their fill.

​​

“I thank ye, son of Collin McDaugh. Yer father is a great one, he is. Saved me life many’s the day, and it’s an honor to build a fire for his brood. It is.”

 

Caolan had no idea what he was talking about. His father was a farmer and sheepherder, but before he could ask, a comely maiden brought them bread with honey and smoked fish heaped on a bark plate. She handed it to Cao and smiled but didn’t speak. He shared the meal with his brothers and sister. One by one, they lay down. The children took off the jerkins they had been given for this trip and covered with them as they nodded off.

 

Cao watched the fires in the circle of camp and the strange people they traveled with. He saw his parents striding through the smoke of the fires in the encampment. He could hardly recognize them. Straight and tall, almost shining as they approached him. He noticed the others move out of their way and nod with respect at their passing. They sat at the fire near synchronized, as if they moved as one.

​​

“You did well today.” His father clasped his shoulders. “I am sorry, I am that we didn’t have time to explain to ye...”

​​

“Who are ya? Who are ‘ya really?” Caolan interrupted him. His father did not miss the fire in his eye, and he knew his Cao was angry.

 

“We are Fey Folk, the lot of us. Yer Mother and I spent many years in battle and training. We pledged allegiance long ago to the goddess Eéfah. When we found we would have a bairn, we asked for the release of active duty to retire to the country and raise our family. We were about to tell ‘ya son in yer year of majority... only this came about before.”

​​

Caolan digested the information, and it explained many things. “I always wondered how I could talk to the animals and how I could smell whatever I might be looking for...” he hesitated. “Now, I know,” he smiled at them and his father sighed a breath of relief.

​​

“Yer mother has that as well. That ability to sense by smell. It is handy in battle.”

​​

“What is about? What has happened to drag us from our home?”

​​

“The dark witch is afoot. She and her sons have poisoned the ground of the isle and the food that grows in it. She has now a daughter, the Sidhe, that sucks the blood of men and captures their souls. We travel to Skerrabra on the Bay o’ Skaill. It is the stronghold of the Fey Folk. We'll go underground to prepare for war. Others will be coming.

​​

“The littles will go to class and you will go to training at the castle of the goddess Scathach, who’s a particular friend of yer Ma’s. You’ll travel to the Isle o’ the Skye and tell them you're from the folk, Tuatha Dé Danann and the warrior, Em’ly McDaugh, sent ye.

​​

He looked at his mother and smiled... “The warrior, Em’ly McDaugh,” he repeated. “Just this morning she was me Ma, frying bacon and making biscuits.” She smiled at his teasing, reached out and tousled his hair.

​​

“A fine life that was too, me Cao,” she whispered.

​​

“I’ll be taking the boy to Scathbach. Safer that way.” The goddess Eéfah interrupted and sat at their fire in a fluid motion.

​​

His mother nodded, “I’m relieved. I am, and thank ye Eéfah. He’s had no training and has just found the truth of his heritage. I’ve spoken to Scathbach, and she is expecting him in three months on the date of his majority.”

​​

“A strapping lad he is, like his Da. Looks a lot like his Da at that age,” she said, staring Caolan up and down. “But he has yer lean frame and quick eye, Em’ly. He’ll do well.”

​​

The goddess stood and looked at Caolan. “You are the son of my two finest Fey. You have a proud name to live up to. Always conquer,” she said and disappeared.

​​

“I’ll be sent away?” Caolan asked. “What about the littles?” He raised his head and sniffed the air. “Somethin’s afoot, Da. Something approaching fast.”

​​

His mother and father stood smoothly, back to back as the commotion began and a terrible storm of lightning and thunder boomed and groaned around them while hailstones rained down. Caolan sheltered the littles with his own body under the limbs of the tree while his parents fought an enemy invisible to him except for its stench. The entire encampment joined ranks in a tight circle, making the tree the center.

​​

More and more littles appeared, and Cao understood they were his to protect. He grouped the older boys in their jerkins in an umbrella over the littles to protect them as well as he could. A shadow crept upon them under the tree. It was a Sluagh. Cao stood in its path to keep it from the children and called out to his Da. A Fey warrior lopped off its head, and the thing disintegrated in a fog.

​​

“Ya must take off the head,” he said, and disappeared back into the fight.

​​

Caolan McDaugh did not take his place among the umbrella again, but stood watch around the children. The only weapon he had was his skinning knife, but he could wield it with accuracy, and he held it in his hand as he patrolled ‘round the bairns.

​​

The sky cleared, the stench faded, but Caolan didn’t relax until his parents strode into his sight. “It ‘is done, for now.” The Fey warrior who had helped him walked up. “Ye are a brave lad, ye are,” he said to Cao.

​​

He nodded to Collin and Em’ly, “He stood off a Sluagh bound to take the littles, and then patrolled the perimeter, keeping them gone. “Ye’ll do a’right, he offered his arm and Cao took it. “May The blessing of light be upon you - light without and light within.”

 

“And upon ye,” Caolan answered the blessing.

​​

His Ma and Da smiled at each other. “That is Lugh. He is a mighty warrior, and it is an honor he has bestowed upon you. You've impressed him,” his Ma said.

​​

“He does not seem to be much older than me. How can he be a mighty warrior?”

​​

“There’s a lot ye have to learn, boyo’,” his father grinned. “We don’t age as the menfolk. Lugh trained me as a lad, and he always looked just as he does now.” His father’s face became serious. “We’ll likely not see you tomorrow,” he said, looking toward the outer circle.

​​

His Ma wrapped strong arms around him and held him for a moment. “Be safe, me little Caolan,” she sang as she walked away. It was a song she sang to him as a bairn and it stung at his eyes and his heart.

​​

None of the parents moved their young. They slept together by the tree for a time before the goddess called them to march, encircled by warriors.

​​

They marched in a tighter group today and they reached Skerrabra by sunset. Once in the underground city protected, with clean clothes, food in his belly and a good rest behind him, Caolan had time to reflect upon the shock of his situation.

​​

While he pondered, he sat among the trees and spring of freshwaters at the center of the underground city. A woman walked in and sat beside him. She was beautiful, soft, and youthful. It is the goddess, sure enough, he thought.

​​

She smiled. “No fooling ye, Cao McDaugh,” she laughed a musical sound.

​​

“I can sense and smell ye, no matter the look of ye,” he said.

​​

“Aye, you’ve got that from yer mother’s clan. It is handy in battle, it is. I have come to speak to ye about things ye do not know. It being partly my fault that ye remain ignorant of yer kith and kin.”

​​

He just stared at her without responding, but waited for the story.

​​

“When yer parents asked for leave to raise a family... I was sore to let them go. But knowing it was for the best, I gave them leave... except in case of war, they must return. I also bade them not tell their bairns of the Fey Folk until their majority. There’s a mighty misunderstanding about the Fey in the world of man. Discrimination and hate because the people have no understanding of magical things. The warrior that helped ye last night was Lugh, of mighty renown. Yer cousin, a few times removed. He vouched to me of Caolan McDaugh’s care of the littles. Ye should know that is high praise from the likes of him.”

​​

“I didn't do a thing but stand to the wraith that threatened the littles, and he killed it, not me.”

​

“Yeah, it's true. But ye were unarmed or jest as well, even so, ye stood. That is bravery uncommon...” She smiled at him again.

​​

“There are many legends and myths you will hear but must not believe. To be a warrior of the Tuatha Dé Danann, ye must know the truth of the matter. Aye, and ye shall keep it to yerself amongst menfolk. They believe we have become the wee fairy folk, and it’s true some misbegotten Fey have wandered into misfortune and yet they live a fine life on the cusp of their own making.”

​

She threw back her head and laughed. She had pleasing laughter that brought Caolan peacefulness within the chaos of his thoughts.

​​

“Now, there are three daughters of the Goddess Danu, there are. The Fey are our people, but it's their choice, of course. Some Fey serve with Scathbach as teachers, philosophers and soothsayers, and some with Anyáh, as singers, poets, and artists. I am the goddess that preserves peace. Me Fey are the strongest and most brilliant and courageous, and they realize the entire world of the Fey rests upon their broad shoulders. It has been so for centuries since Anyáh and I split our tribe. Ye will choose when the time comes, whatever is yer calling or none... if that is the way the wind blows... Ye are a free soul ‘till ‘ye give yer allegiance.”

​​

“I’ll choose to remain with my folks, I will, and the littles.”

​​

She smiled. “Now ye listen for the history ye must know. Tuatha Dé Danann lives at the brink of the Otherworld. A magical race feared by the tribes of man. For a while, in the youth of them, the Fairy Folk chose Kings and there was war in the folk. Danu put a stop to that and now they're no Kings of the Fey. They are equals. Ye will hear a’ many a tale of the Fey Folk, for there was a time the Kings were cruel and used magic against menfolk and each other. Some of it is true, and some is malarkey,” she smiled. The arrival of Tuatha Dé Danann to Ire’lan and the building of this city is the story of protection of the Fey and the Otherworld. We do our best to leave the menfolk alone, but now the Carmun and her sons’ll kill them all if we don’ stop them. It is us they challenge, but men they harm.”

​​

“Why?” he asked.

​​

“They want the Isle o’ the Skye and the Isle of Ire’lan for their own, they do. And they’ll kill every man, woman an’ child... If we allow it.”

​​

“How’ll you stop it?” he asked.

​​

“It has begun. Four have volunteered to challenge them and, with luck, by the time yer training is finished. They’ll be long gone.”

​​

“Will the littles be safe here while I’m away?”

​​

“They will,” she answered.

​​

“May I say goodbye to me Ma and Da?”

​​

“I am sorry, Cao. They're gone a’ ready with the four. I will pass along yer goodbye if ye like.”

​​

“Nah, they told me last evening they might be gone, a ‘fore I left. I’m ready,” he said.

​​

A warrior strode to the goddess. His chestnut hair, done in numerous braids, lay neatly down his back. He had a mustache and full beard, but Caolan knew this was his father’s father. He looked just like his Da except with all that hair. He held a sword on a leather scabbard atop a fine satin sheathing.

​​

He nodded to the goddess, and she nodded in return. “Caolan McDaugh, please make the acquaintance of Caolan McDaugh, yer Daideó, and namesake.”

​​

Cao stood smiling, “I can see me Da in you, I can.”

​​

The man’s shining eyes smiled back at him as he clasped his shoulder. “I see my son in you, Caolan McDaugh... but ye have a look of ‘yer mother as well.”

​​

His expression changed, and he held the sword before him. “A man’s sword is always passed by his Daideó. This is yer sword Caolan. Many brave and courageous McDaugh before you have lent their spirit to this weapon. May ye carry it with reverence and pride until it is time to pass it to ‘yer own grandson. The next Caolan McDaugh.”

​​

“I’ve never held a sword...” he said. He never took his eyes off the weapon. It was almost like he could hear it. He could smell it, and it carried a scent of peace and tranquility.

​​

His grandfather smiled. “Ye hear the calling?”

​​

Caolan’s mouth dropped open. “I do.”

​​

“Take the hilt...”

​​

The littles ran out as Cao grasped the hilt of the sword and Brea grabbed her big brother ‘round his legs. “Cao... Cao...” she shouted. He knelt and hugged her. Brea was six, Thomas was ten, and Andolin was twelve.

​​

Caolan looked around. “Mother is here...” he said.

​​

“Where? Where is she?” Brea asked.

​​

His grandfather smiled at Brea. “She is not here, child. Yer brother is mistaken.”

 

“I’ll not question ye sir... but Cao is never wrong about Mother.” She spoke point blank, and they all laughed, even Caolan.

​​

“I could have sworn...” A woman followed a carrier from the direction the children had come. “You... Who are you?” Caolan called.

​​

“I am yer Móraí,” she answered, smiling. The littles will stay with me until yer parents return. When you come to visit, you are welcome in my home.” She glanced at his grandfather. “We live near each other and we will share the schooling and training of the children.”

​​

He nodded. “Ye are me Ma’s mother... she smells like you. That’s why I thought she was here.”

​​

“Ah, ye have inherited that sense from yer Ma. She’s had it the whole of her life.”

​​

“As have I,” he said.

​​

“Caolan,” the goddess Eéfah called to him. “It is time to go.”

​​

The goddess touched his arm and the next moment Caolan stood among a group of warriors and a woman who looked exactly like Eéfah, only larger in stature was striding toward them. “Aye, Sister. It is good to see ye!” she bellowed, taking her arm in the blessing and then hugging her ferociously.

​​

“I have brought the McDaugh lad. Em’ly and Collin have gone to the field for me. Cao, this is Scathbach, my sister and yer trainer.”

​​

“It is good to meet you, Caolan McDaugh,” she said and motioned to a young man. “I see yer Daideó has passed the sword. It is an honor and privilege. I see yer sweet mother in yer eyes. It is a good tiding.”

​​

“Jenster, take Caolan McDaugh and get him outfitted and assigned a room. Show him around and introduce him to the others in his class.”

​​

“Yes, Mam,” the young man said and nodded to the goddess.

 

“Come on, Cao. You’re going to love it here,” Jenster told him. The two, in fact, became close friends. While Caolan trained and learned of the Fey and the magic on the Isle o’ the Skye, the littles learned and grew, and his parents hunted the Carmun and her sons.

​​

***

 

The fair goddess Anyáh called her sisters. She and her Fey were under attack by the Dain of Carmun. He had struck the weakest first and slaughtered many of her Fey. He was hunting her. Scathbach and her Fey met Eéfah and her army at Anyáh’s lodgings. Her entire city was wrecked and reeking of blood and fear. The warriors spread out and soon encountered the Sluagh and other Fey warriors.

​​

Caolan McDaugh sensed the fear. He could smell the gentle Fey in their hiding. He had split from the group and cantered at a trot toward the outskirts of the city. Soon followed by Lugh and his mother with a small contingent, she also smelled the goddess. The first sounds of battle came from their left. He drew his sword but continued forward. He could now sense Dain’s rage and intention for the goddess.

​​

A Sluagh appeared before him but never touched him as Cao swung the sword expertly and lopped off the head. Then there were many. He, his mother, and Lugh were surrounded. They lost warriors as they were driven back before a cry sounded around them and his father, at the head of a mighty contingent, ran into their midst with the goddesses.

​

Cao felt Dain leave, and he ran. He knew the goddess Anyáh would be slain if he didn’t find her. He felt Lugh beside him, but continued moving forward. He stopped as he felt Dain yield with the death of his armies and retreat.

​​

I know she is here... he thought. Anyáh, he sent the name into the ether. “I cannot see ye, but I sense ye, and yer Fey. I have come to take ye to yer sisters,” he said aloud. An invisible shield fell away, and Anyáh lay prostrate before a multitude of Fey.

​

Cao scooped her into his arms and called out to the army. Lugh brought up the rear of the Fey as he trotted to the central city carrying the goddess Anyáh. Her face was cut and bruised, and her gown torn. She was barely conscious, exhausted from holding the barrier that had saved their lives, and Cao held her tightly, crooning to her as she wept.

​​

“Cao has her,” Eéfah said with relief. “Thank ye, Cao...” she was interrupted as a subtle light began to glow around them, and the goddesses hit their knees as did their Fey except for Caolan McDaugh. It was their Mother, the Goddess Danu.

​​

“Rise, my Daughters and my valiant Fey. Well done. I’ll have yer sister, but she is well in shock. You have my gratitude, Caolan McDaugh,” she touched her daughter in his arms, and Anyáh shimmered away.

​​

The Goddess was furious as she paced. In a thunderous voice that echoed ‘round them in the bleak city, she called, “This is the end. Ye’ll find and stop this murdering horde and then ye’ll come home. The dark sons may leave, but the witch Carmun is to be locked up, for she’ll just return when ye’re gone. Ye may bring yer people that wish to come and leave the rest to this world. The time has moved on as I told each of ye it would. This world is no longer for us.”

​​

“Yes, Mother,” they said in unison, and Danu disappeared.

​​

Scathbach looked at her sister and said, “Well, let’s get to it!”

​​

It was a battle, the countryside suffered, and the menfolk died. Carmun was merciless in her poisoning of the land and the suffering of the people. She kept her sons separated, knowing the four were on their trail. Even the babes had not enough to eat until the Tuatha Dé Danann four forced a showdown. The Sidhe was first. She approached Lugh who was one of the four to try to beguile him and he lopped off her head, warned by Em’ly who caught the scent of her true intention. It was a striking blow to the Carmun who became careless in her fury.

​​

The god of poetry Ai Mac Ollamain could utter a verse to change the wind and the weather. His limerick could still the storm and hypnotize the evil. He sang a chorus all the day, “Bring the brothers who sour the land, bring the cruel and smiting hands. Bring them here, so the land be done, with the evil sons of the witch, Carmun.” He sang it as they marched and as they sat and even as they rested. He never stopped his chorus until Cao was repeating it in his mind as well. He sensed many of the Fey were reciting with Ai Mac.

​

The satirist Cridhinbheal joined him in the late afternoon and by evening, a great horde of Sluagh and the three brothers appeared before them.

​​

The beguiling white sorceress Bé Chuille rose above them, trapping the brothers together with a great net of air from which they could not escape, and the angry and hysterical Carmun could not breach.

​

The satirist Cridhinbheal, and the mighty warrior and magician Lugh, held them together as the Fey warriors surrounded them, and they were an awesome sight indeed.

 

The four wore them down, each of them Dub of darkness, Dother who was evil incarnate and the mighty Dain of violence and ferocity.

​

Using their powers inside the circle of magical Fey, they banished each of them from Ireland for as long as the land was surrounded by water. They forced them to leave without their Mother and in a fit of rage, the witch Carmun used her black magic to destroy all the fruit of Ireland. The green land was barren.

​​

A magical spell cast by Bé Chuille and powered by the other three subdued her magic and restored the land, but it took some time. Cao and his mother sought her out, and the Fey surrounded her. Subdued by the four, they captured her at last. The Fey chained and imprisoned Carmun. She died of grief, but before she succumbed, she requested a fair be held in her honor at her burial place.

​​

“That is their affair,” the goddess Eéfah said. “To Skerrabra,” and the gathered horde appeared on the shores of the Bay o’ Skaill and made the short march to the underground city at the brink of the Otherworld...

​​

Caolan McDaugh stood with his parents and the littles who weren’t so little anymore. The family would move on to the Otherworld with their goddess. They scuttled the city as they did the castle on the Isle o’ the Skye. The Fey time upon the earth was done and the vast majority moved on to the Otherworld with their goddesses, each into their own cities.

 

They left the smallest remnant of themselves on the earth.

​

Anyáh stood waiting for Caolan as the army made their last march into the Otherworld.

He thought her the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon as she reached for

his hand.

​​

The End