Erhalten Sie Zugang zu diesem und mehr als 300000 Büchern ab EUR 5,99 monatlich.
- Herausgeber: The O'Brien Press
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012
The most famous Irish legend of all in an exciting and easily understood version. Read about the feats of the famous warrior Cuchulainn who singlehandedly defends Ulster against the army of Queen Maeve. War, peace, love, greed, fate are the stuff of an epic, and in The Táin they are present in full. Illustrated throughout by Donald Teskey.
Sie lesen das E-Book in den Legimi-Apps auf:
Seitenzahl: 87
Das E-Book (TTS) können Sie hören im Abo „Legimi Premium” in Legimi-Apps auf:
Ähnliche
Reviews
‘… this is the answer for those children who think Irish legends are boring.’LESLEY REECE Irish Guide to Children’s Books
‘… the O’Brien Press in its pursuit of excellence has come up with a superb collection …’DES NIX Sunday Press (on the Táin and other titles)
‘… fine illustrations …’ Books Ireland
‘… a sweeping, colourful narrative that grips the interest of all readers.’ Leinster Leader
For Brian, with love
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
HOW THE TÁIN BEGAN
QUEEN MAEVE WAS VERY ANGRY. Her eyes flashed with fury as she strode into the hall of her palace at Cruachan. Her anger swelled when she heard the mocking laughter of her husband Ailill drifting in from the garden. A fierce look of determination came over her face. She, the mighty Warrior Queen of Connacht, would not be mocked by anyone!
‘I will make Ailill regret his challenge!’ she vowed. She clapped her hands and shouted for her servants.
The trouble all began just a short while before when Maeve and Ailill set out on their usual morning walk in the garden. The previous night they had quarrelled over which of them was the wealthier. But when they woke the next morning the quarrel seemed to be forgotten and they went for their stroll together arm-in-arm.
It was a lovely summer morning and the air was full of the sweet singing of birds and the drowsy murmuring of bees. Maeve smiled contentedly and combed away a strand of hair that the playful breeze had tossed into her beautiful face.
But though Maeve was very beautiful she was also very proud. From the time she was a little girl she had been used to getting her own way. Her father, the High King of Ireland, adored her and gave her anything she wanted.
When she reached her twenty-first year he asked her what present she would like.
‘I want a whole province of Ireland to rule over as queen,’ she said.
‘Very well,’ her father said. ‘I will give you the province of Connacht.’
Maeve built a magnificent palace of white gleaming stone at Cruachan. She filled the palace with her many treasures and possessions and put her great herds of animals on the lands around it. She had hundreds of servants to look after her and thousands of soldiers to guard her. If any chieftain displeased her she would jump into her war chariot and lead out her soldiers to teach him a lesson. She was soon known far and wide as ‘The Warrior Queen of Connacht.’
Princes came from all over Ireland hoping to marry the rich and beautiful queen. But none of them attracted her and she sent them all away. Then Ailill, son of the king of Leinster, came to visit her at Cruachan. Perhaps it was his good looks or his haughty bearing – whatever the reason, she fell in love with him immediately. They married a short while later and Ailill brought all his treasures and herds to Cruachan.
But Ailill was every bit as proud of his riches as Maeve was of hers. And this was the cause of the row between them as they walked in the garden that lovely morning.
Noticing the serene way she looked he remarked, ‘You seem very happy today, my dear.’
‘I am very happy indeed,’ she assured him with a warm smile.
‘And you have every reason to be,’ Ailill said. ‘You are, after all, the wife of the richest person in Ireland.’
A frown of annoyance clouded Maeve’s face. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded. ‘Everyone knows I’m far wealthier than you.’
‘Nonsense!’ Ailill retorted. ‘Nobody in the whole land has more treasures and herds than I.’ They stopped and stood there arguing heatedly about their riches.
‘Enough!’ Ailill declared finally. ‘There’s only one way to settle this matter. I challenge you to have everything we own brought here and counted and compared to see who has the most.’
‘I accept your challenge!’ Maeve snapped. ‘And you will be sorry you ever made it.’ She turned on her heel and marched back to the palace.
‘There’s no fear of that,’ Ailill called after her and he burst out laughing at the very idea.
Back in the palace Maeve stamped her foot angrily and shouted again for her servants. They came running from every direction, trembling with fright when they saw the furious expression on her face. She ordered them to collect all her possessions and those of her husband and bring them out to the garden. Then she returned to where Ailill was still laughing. ‘Now I shall prove that I am wealthier than you,’ she said triumphantly.
First, their gleaming goblets and valuable vases were brought out, together with all their precious jewels and shining ornaments of silver and gold. But when they were counted and compared they were found to be equal in value and number.
Next, their great herds of horses and sheep were brought from the fields and counted. Maeve’s herds matched those of Ailill in size and number.
Then all their cattle were collected and brought before them. When they were counted and compared they were found to be equal in number and size except for one animal in Ailill’s herd. This was a magnificent-looking bull called Finnbeannach.
‘I told you,’ Ailill gloated. ‘I am wealthier than you.’
Maeve did not reply. She was almost crying with anger. She could not believe that she owned no animal to equal Finnbeannach. She stormed back into the palace and shouted for Mac Roth, her Chief Messenger.
Mac Roth rushed into the hall and stood before her, leaning on his staff as he tried to catch his breath.
‘Do you know of any place in Ireland where a bull the equal of Finnbeannach can be found?’ Maeve asked.
‘Yes, I do,’ Mac Roth replied. ‘There’s a much finer bull in Cooley in Ulster. It’s known as the Brown Bull of Cooley.’
‘Who owns it?’
‘A man named Daire Mac Fiachna.’
‘Will he sell it to me?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Will he lend it then?’
‘He might be prepared to oblige the great Queen of Connacht.’
‘Go to him immediately,’ Maeve commanded. ‘Ask him to lend me the bull for one year. Tell him I’ll pay him handsomely. I’ll give him fifty of my finest heifers and the Brown Bull back at the end of the year.’
The Chief Messenger hesitated and shook his head doubtfully.
‘Conor, King of Ulster, may not allow it and the people of Ulster may not let Daire part with the bull either,’ he said. ‘It’s a jewel of an animal and they’re very proud of it. There could be trouble if they saw me taking it away.’
Maeve waved her hand dismissively. ‘Tell Daire in that event to bring it here himself,’ she said. ‘As well as the heifers, I’ll give him as much land as he wants and a splendid chariot and my own undying friendship to crown it all.’
So Mac Roth set out for Cooley accompanied by nine other messengers. But he grew more worried with every mile that passed. He wondered anxiously how Daire would receive him. He was pleasantly surprised when he arrived at Daire’s house and was given a warm welcome. Daire was a fat jolly little man who felt flattered by a visit from Maeve’s Chief Messenger. He put Mac Roth sitting on a nice soft cushion and began to chat about this and that. After a while Mac Roth turned the conversation around to the purpose of his visit.
He explained about the rivalry between Maeve and her husband and how the queen wanted a loan of the Brown Bull to match it against Finnbeannach. Then he went on to describe the generous payment that Maeve was prepared to offer.
A broad smile spread over Daire’s face when he heard that. He bounced up and down with joy and suddenly burst the cushion he was sitting on!
‘Of course I’ll lend the Brown Bull to the queen!’ he declared.
Mac Roth was very relieved. The mission has been successful, he thought. Maeve will be very pleased. But later that night something happened that upset all their plans.
Daire had arranged for the messengers from Connacht to be given comfortable quarters and the best of food and drink. During the feast the messengers grew drunk and noisy. One of them stood up and banged on the table with his goblet.
‘Let us drink a toast to Daire,’ he proposed. ‘It was good of him to give us the Brown Bull so willingly.’
Another man stood up and laughed scornfully. ‘If it hadn’t been given willingly we’d have taken it by force!’ he declared.
Shouts of agreement rang out around the table. One of Daire’s servants was infuriated by this and ran out to his master.
‘Did you promise to give our treasure the Brown Bull to those messengers from Connacht?’ he asked.
‘I did,’ replied Daire.
‘What they said then must be true.’
‘What did they say?’
‘They boasted that if you hadn’t given it willingly they would have taken it by force.’
Daire’s eyes blazed suddenly with anger. ‘I swear by the gods that the Brown Bull will never leave Ulster now!’ he vowed, clutching the dagger in his belt.
Unaware of what had happened Mac Roth came to see Daire the next morning. ‘Tell me where the bull is so we can take him away,’ he said.
‘I will not!’ snapped Daire. ‘And only that I’m not in the habit of killing messengers none of you would leave this place alive.’
Mac Roth stared at him in astonishment. ‘Why do you say that?’ he asked.
‘Because your men swore they’d take the bull by force if I didn’t give it willingly.’
Mac Roth shook his head. ‘Don’t mind their silly talk. They must have taken too much drink.’
