Conn-Eda

Once upon a time, or below a time, in the time that was not time, that is our time or not, there was in Ireland a King named Conn Mor. He was powerful but just and good, and he was passionately loved by the people. Conn’s wife was the good Queen Eda, equally loved and esteemed for her grace and wisdom. She was the counterpart to the King, and he was the balance to her. Whatever quality was lacking in one was found in abundance in the other. It was clear that heaven approved of the royal couple, for the Earth produced exuberant crops; trees gave nine-fold their usual fruit; waters teemed with choice fish; bees made heaps of honey; and cows yielded such an abundance of rich milk that it rained in torrents on the fields and filled the furrows and ditches. In short, no one lacked for anything, and the people felt the sun of happiness upon them.

Conn Mor and Queen Eda were blessed with an only son,. Druids foretold at his birth that he would inherit the good qualities of both parents; hence, they named him Conn-Eda. As the young Prince grew, he manifested an admirable beauty, a ready strength, a noble bearing, and a bright mind. He became the idol of his family and the boast of the people. For a time things were perfect. But perfection occurs rarely on this Earth, and when it does occur it does not last long. Good Queen Eda came down with a sudden, severe illness. It ran its course, and she died, plunging the King, her son, and the people into sorrow and mourning for a year and a day. During that time, the crops began to decline, there seemed to be fewer fine trees., and people began to suffer lack and loss.

After the mourning period, Conn Mor yielded to the advice of his counselors and took as wife the daughter of the ArchDruid. The new queen appeared to walk in the footsteps of good Queen Eda, until, in the course of time, and having had sons of her own, she perceived that Conn-Eda would always be the favorite of the King and the darling of the people, and that her sons would be excluded. This excited in her a jealousy and hatred for Conn-Eda, and she resolved to effect his exile or death.

She began by circulating evil reports about the Prince. But as Conn-Eda was above suspicion, the King just laughed at the weakness of the queen, and the people supported the Prince, and the Prince himself bore his trials with the utmost patience. He even repaid her malicious acts toward him with benevolent ones toward her. Soon her enmity knew no bounds, and she consulted the hen wife, an old hag who was known to be a witch.

“I cannot help you until I receive a reward,” said the hen wife.

“What reward?” asked the impatient queen.

“That you will fill the cavity I make with my arm with wool, and the hole I bore with red wheat,” said the old one.

“Granted,” said the queen.

The hen wife stood in the door way of her hut and bent her arm to form a circle with her side. Then she directed that the wool be stuffed through her arm into the hut, and she wouldn’t let them stop until the house was full. Next she got on the roof of her brother’s house, drilled a hole in it with her distaff, and directed that red wheat be poured in until her brother’s house was full. When these things had been done, the storage bins of the realm were much depleted of wool and of wheat.

“Now,” said the queen, “tell me how to accomplish my purpose.”

“Take this chess set and invite the Prince to play. Propose that whoever may win can impose any condition on the soul of the loser. Because of the set’s enchantment, you will win the first game. Once you win, order the Prince to go into permanent exile or else procure for you, within a year and a day,

the three golden apples that grow in the garden of Loug in Erne, as well as the great black steed and the extraordinary hound called Samer which live there. All are in the possession of the King who lives in the castle below the surface of the waters of Lough Erne. They are so precious, difficult to find, and so well guarded that Conn-Eda can never attain them through his own power, and he will surely die if he attempts the adventure.”

The queen lost no time inviting Conn-Eda to play. He agreed that the winner could place conditions binding on the soul of the loser. The queen won the fist game as was foretold. But she was so determined to have the Prince completely in her power that she offered to play another game. To her great surprise, the Prince won the second game. The queen announced her condition first: “Go right now into permanent exile, or procure for me within a year and a day the golden apples that grow in the garden of Lough Erne, along with the great black steed, and the supernatural hound of the King of Lough Erne.”

“I bind you to sit on the pinnacle of that tower until my return,” he responded, “and to take no nourishment except what red wheat you can spear with the point of your bodkin. If I don’t return, you are free in a year and a day.”

After playing the game, Conn-Eda had conditions on his soul and trouble in his mind. He wandered about, uncertain of what to do or where to turn, until he happened to recall an old Druid whom he considered a friend and a knowledgeable man. He went to the Druid’s abode. Immediately the Druid asked the cause of the depression in the young man’s spirit. The Prince told him the entire history with the new queen and the chess game, and the laying of conditions on his soul. The Prince asked for help. The Druid invited Conn-Eda into his hut and set before him the oldest of wines and the freshest of foods. The old man said that the morning was wiser than the evening. In the morning, he would go to his “green place” and consider the situation surrounding the Prince.

The following day, the Druid said, “My son, you are under an almost impossible geas, a condition of the soul which seems intended only for your destruction. No one could have advised the queen and provided the chess set except for the Hag of Beara. She is the greatest Druidess in all of Ireland, and sister herself to the King of Lough Erne.

“It is not in my power to directly interfere on your behalf. However, if you can find the ancient bird with the capacity for human speech, it may be able to advise you in this matter. In truth, that bird is difficult to find. It settles in the forest nearby, but does so for only three days during any year. The bird is difficult to find and troublesome to approach, but it knows all things past, present, and future.”

“I cannot give much help in your search, but if you look out back you will find a little shaggy horse. If you are able to locate the ancient bird, present it with this precious stone. Then listen carefully, for it may tell you how to find the treasures you seek. That’s all that I can offer you in this matter. If you do take the little shaggy horse, allow it lead you and follow where it goes.”

Conn-Eda received the stone and thanked the Druid. He mounted the shaggy little horse and turned away from all that he knew. He let the reins hang loose, as he had been instructed, so that the animal could choose its own path.

After some difficulty, the shaggy horse managed to reach the hiding place of the Bird with Human Speech at just the right time. There in the dark forest stood the ancient bird. The Prince placed the stone near the bird and asked how he could accomplish his task. The great bird took the gem, flew to an inaccessible rock, and addressed him in a loud croaking voice. “Remove the stone from under your right foot, take the ball of iron and the cup you find there, mount your horse, cast the ball before you,

follow it, and your horse will tell you everything else you need to know.” Having said this, the Bird with Human Speech flew out of sight.

Conn-Eda took the ball and cup, mounted the horse again, and cast the ball before him. The ball rolled and the horse followed until they came upon the shores of Lough Erne, where the ball disappeared into the water. Suddenly the little horse spoke, “Put your hand in my ear, take out the small bottle of all-heal and the little basket you find there, and remount with speed, for here your difficulties begin.”

Conn-Eda did as he was told, and horse and rider quickly descended into the waters of the lake. The Prince was amazed that they neither drowned nor suffocated. Where he expected to swallow water and lack for air, he found he could still breathe. They had entered the Otherworld. He saw the ball rolling along the bottom of the lake, and he clung tightly to his little steed.

They came upon a river there, a water among waters, guarded by three frightful serpents. A loud hissing filled the ears of the Prince as he gazed into the serpents’ great, yawning mouths with their formidable fangs. The horse spoke again: “Open the basket, and cast a piece of the meat you find there into the mouth of each serpent, then hold on tight. If you cast accurately, I’ll get us past them; if not, we are lost.”

The Prince cast the meat unerringly, and the little horse made a prodigious leap past the serpents and over the river. Once on the other side, the horse asked if the Prince was still mounted, nd the Prince replied that it had taken only half his strength to stay on. The little horse commended him, saying that while one danger was over, two more remained.

Again they followed the ball, until they came to a burning mountain that filled the landscape with flame and fire in all directions. “Prepare yourself for another leap,” said the horse, and he sprang from the Earth and flew like an arrow through the flames and over the mountain. “Are you still alive, Conn-Eda, son of Mor?”

“Just alive, and nothing more,” the Prince said, “for I am greatly scorched.”

“You are a man of destiny after all,” said the horse. “There is hope that we will overcome the last test.”

The horse carried the ailing Prince to a cool valley and told him to apply the all-heal from the bottle to his wounds. The all-heal soothed the wounds of the Prince and healed his burns. In the green glade, the Prince recovered his health and strength; in fact he felt better than he had before. Once recovered, he saw the iron ball rolling into a broad valley. The Prince mounted the little horse once again and they followed the ball down onto the plain below.

The Prince felt renewed and ready as he mounted the little shaggy horse again and followed where the rolling ball entered a broad field. Across the great plain before him, he could see a majestic city surrounded by high walls. There was only one entrance, and it was guarded by two towers from which flames burst forth randomly. Anything passing between those fiery gates would be burnt to ash in a moment. As he watched, the Prince saw the iron ball roll between the towers and disappear into the shining city.

“Stop here,” said the horse, “Take from my ear the small knife, and with it kill and flay me. Then wrap yourself in my skin, and you will pass through that fiery gate unscathed. Once through, you can cross back and forth at your pleasure, entering and leaving as you wish. All I ask in return is that once inside the gates, you remember your little horse, and come back to drive away the birds of prey about my carcass. And if any drop of that all-heal may remain, pour it on my flesh. Then, if you can, dig a pit and bury my remains.”

The Prince was shocked! He said he could never sacrifice friendship for personal gain. He said that what the horse asked went against his bearing as a man, his ethics as a Prince, and his feelings as a friend. It went against all he believed in. Besides, how could he part with the one who had helped him through such great difficulties? The Prince said he would rather face death itself than dishonor their friendship.

“Forget all that,” said the horse. “Unless you follow my advice in this as you have before, we may both perish completely and never meet again. Besides, there are fates in this world worse than death.”

Reluctantly, the Prince took the knife from the ear of the horse and, with faltering hand, he pointed it at the horse’s throat. His eyes were blind with tears. The dagger, as if compelled by Druidic power, leapt to the horse’s throat. Before Conn-Eda knew it, the deed was done, and the horse fell at his feet. The Prince fell, too, and wept until he lost consciousness. When he recovered, and with many misgivings, he flayed the skin off the horse. In the derangement of the moment, he covered himself with the skin and stumbled toward the flaming gate of the magnificent city. In this demented state, he passed through the flames unmolested.

Once inside the shining city the Prince found himself in a busy marketplace filled with wonders and wealth. But Conn-Eda saw no charm there. As he stood in his daze, the last request of his faithful companion forced itself upon him and compelled him to go back. Returning to the plain of sacrifice, he found an appalling scene, for birds of prey were tearing and devouring the flesh of the little horse. The Prince chased them off and poured the all-heal on the body of the shaggy steed.

No sooner had the all-heal touched the inanimate flesh than it changed before his eyes and assumed the form of a noble young man. Conn-Eda, awestruck, reached out, and amid tears of joy and wonder, embraced this fantastic brother. Then the marvelous youth spoke: “You are the best sight my sore eyes have seen, and I am most fortunate for having met you. Behold your shaggy steed, changed to his natural state!” He explained that he was brother to the King of the magnificent city, and that a Druid had enchanted him but was forced to release him by the honest request of the Prince. He could only recover his natural form, however, when the Prince performed the deep sacrifice. He also announced that the Hag of Beara was his sister, and that she had not wished to destroy Conn-Eda, for she could have done that in a stroke. Rather, she wished to free the Prince from future dangers and rescue him from his relentless enemies.

Together the young men entered the magnificent city and were received with great joy by the King of Lough Erne. A joyful feast began at which Conn-Eda received the powerful black steed, the hound of supernatural powers, and the three golden apples from th garden below the waves. By that time the year and a day were coming to a close. After saying many farewells and agreeing to return at regular intervals, Conn-Eda passed out through the flaming towers, over the mountain of fire, and past the three huge serpents. He was not harmed in any way, and his passage was swift on the great black steed.

Eventually the Prince came in sight of his father’s realm. The queen was still on the pinnacle, but she was joyful now because she was sure that this was the last day of her imprisonment. She was full of hope that the Prince would not appear and that she would be done with him forever. Then she saw a movement on the horizon; she squinted her eyes and, after a moment, could make out a shape approaching. She looked as hard as she could and the shape grew into three shapes. Soon she could not deny that she saw the Prince astride the black steed with the magnificent hound beside him. She raged in grief and anger; she cast herself down off the pinnacle and disappeared into a crevice in the ground.

Conn-Eda was welcomed by his father, who had mourned his son as lost forever. The Prince planted the golden apples in the garden at the center of the realm. Instantly they produced a tree bearing similar fruit. The golden apples seemed to draw on all the splendor of the otherworld below, for soon the Earth produced exuberant crops, and the trees gave nine-fold their usual fruit. The waters teemed with choice fish, the beehives overflowed with honey, and the cows yielded such an abundance of rich milk that it rained in torrents on the fields and filled the furrows and ditches of the Earth. No one lacked for anything.

In due time Conn-Eda succeeded his father as King. His reign was long and prosperous, and even now the western province of Ireland is called Connacht after the royal son who descended into the waters of the land below and broke the spells binding both the worlds.