Part 12

“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.

THE KING OF THE LAND OF MIST

I

The King of Ireland’s Son came to the place where the river that he followed takes the name of the River of the Broken Towers. It is called by that name because the men of the old days tried to build towers across its course. The towers were built a little way across the river that at this place was tremendously wide.

“The Glashan will carry you across the River of the Broken Towers to the shore of the Land of Mist,” the Gobaun Saor had said to the King of Ireland’s Son. And now he was at the River of the Broken Towers but the Glashan-creature was not to be seen.

Then he saw the Glashan. He was leaning his back against one of the Towers and smoking a short pipe. The water of the river was up to his knees. He was covered with hair and had a big head with horse’s ears. And the Glashan twitched his horse’s ears as he smoked in great contentment.

“Glashan, come here,” said the King of Ireland’s Son.

But the Glashan gave him no heed at all.

“I want you to carry me across the River of the Broken Towers,” shouted the King of Ireland’s Son. The Glashan went on smoking and twisting his ears.

And the King of Ireland’s Son might have known that the whole clan of the Gruagachs and Glashans are fond of their own ease and will do nothing if they can help it. He twitched his ears more sharply when the King’s Son threw a pebble at him. Then after about three hours he came slowly across the river. From his big knees down he had horse’s feet.

“Take me on your big shoulders, Glashan,” said the King of Ireland’s Son, “and carry me across to the shore of the Land of Mist.”

“Not carrying any more across,” said the Glashan. The King of Ireland’s Son drew the Sword of Light and flashed it.

“Oh, if you have that, you’ll have to be carried across,” said the Glashan. “But wait until I rest myself.”

“What did you do that you should rest?” said the King of Ireland’s Son. “Take me on your shoulders and start off.”

“Musha,” said the Glashan, “aren’t you very anxious to lose your life?”

“Take me on your shoulders.” “Well, come then. You’re not the first living dead man I carried across.” The Glashan put his pipe into his ear. The King of Ireland’s Son mounted his shoulders and laid hold of his thick mane. Then the Glashan put his horse’s legs into the water and started to cross the River of the Broken Towers.

“The Land of Mist has a King,” said the Glashan, when they were in the middle of the river.

“That, Glashan, I know,” said the King of Ireland’s Son.

“All right,” said the Glashan.

Then said he when they were three-quarters of the way across, “Maybe you don’t know that the King of the Land of Mist will kill you?”

“Maybe ‘tis I who will kill him,” said the King of Ireland’s Son.

“You’d be a hardy little fellow if you did that,” said the Glashan. “But you won’t do it.”

They went on. The water was up to the Glashan’s waist but that gave him no trouble. So broad was the river that they were traveling across it all day. The Glashan threw the King’s Son in once when he stooped to pick up an eel. Said the King of Ireland’s Son, “What way is the Castle of the King of the Land of Mist guarded, Glashan?”

“It has seven gates,” said the Glashan.

“And how are the gates guarded?”

“I’m tired,” said the Glashan, “and I can’t talk.”

“Tell me, or I’ll twist the horse’s ears off your head.”

“Well, the first gate is guarded by a plover only. It sits on the third pinnacle over the gate, and when anyone comes near it rises up and flies round the Castle crying until its sharp cries put the other guards on the watch.”

“And what other guards are there?”

“Oh, I’m tired, and I can talk no more.”

The King of Ireland’s Son twisted his horse’s ears, and then the Glashan said

“The second gate is guarded by five spear-men.”

“And how is the third gate guarded?”

“The third gate is guarded by seven swordsmen.”

“And how is the fourth gate guarded?”

“The fourth gate is guarded by the King of the Land of Mist himself.”

“And the fifth gate?”

“The fifth gate is guarded by the King of the Land of Mist himself.”

“And the sixth gate?”

“The sixth gate is guarded by the King of the Land of Mist.”

“And how is the seventh gate guarded?”

“The seventh gate is guarded by a Hag.”

“By a Hag only?” “By a Hag with poisoned nails. But I’m tired now, and I’ll talk no more to you. If I could strike a light now I’d smoke a pipe.”

Still they went on, and just at the screech of the day they came to the other shore of the River of the Broken Towers. The King of Ireland’s Son sprang from the shoulders of the Glashan and went into the mist.

II