Chapter X The Death of Dermat
Now when many years had passed, Grania said one day to Dermat—
“It is surely a thing unworthy of us, seeing the greatness of our household and our wealth, and the number of our folk, that we should live in a manner so much removed from the world. And in a special manner it is unbecoming that the two most illustrious men in Erin have never been in our house, namely, my father the king, and Finn the son of Cumal.”
For indeed she had not seen her father since the night she had left Tara with Dermat, and her heart yearned for him.
“Wherefore say you this, Grania?” answered Dermat; “for though there is indeed peace between us, they are both none the less enemies of mine; and for this reason have I removed my dwelling far apart from them.”
And Grania said, “Their enmity has surely softened with length of time: and now I would that you give them a feast: so shall we win back their friendship and love.”
And in an evil hour Dermat consented.
For a full year were they preparing for that great feast, and when it was ready, messengers were sent to invite the king, with his house-folk, and Finn, with the chief men of the seven batallions of the Fena. So they came, with their attendants and followers, their horses and dogs; and they lived for a whole year in Rath-Grania, hunting and feasting.
It chanced one night, at the end of the year, long after all had gone to rest, that Dermat heard, through the silence of the night, the distant yelping of a hound; and he started up from his sleep. But Grania, being scared, started up also, and, throwing her arms round him, asked him what he had seen.
“I have heard the voice of a hound,” answered Dermat; “and I marvel much to hear it at midnight.”
“May all things guard thee from harm!” said Grania. “This is surely a trap laid for thee by the Dedannans, unknown to Angus of the Bruga: and now lie down on thy bed again.”
Dermat lay down, but did not sleep, and again he heard the hound’s voice. He started up, and this time was fain to go and look to the matter; but Grania caught him and kept him back a second time, saying that it was not meet for him to seek a hound whose voice he heard in the night.
A gentle slumber now fell on Dermat, and he slept through a good part of the night. But the yelping of the hound came a third time, and awakened him, so that he started up; and it being now broad day, he told Grania that he would go to seek the hound, and find out why he was abroad in the night.
And though Grania consented, she felt, she knew not why, ill at ease; and she said—
“Bring with you the Morallta, the sword of Mannanan Mac Lir, and the Ga-derg,[CXXXIV.] Angus’s spear; for there may be danger.”
But Dermat, regarding the matter lightly, and forced by fate to the worse choice, answered—
“How can danger arise from such a small affair? I will bring the Begallta and the Ga-boi;[CXXXIV.] and I will also bring my good hound Mac-an-coill, leading him by his chain.”
So Dermat went forth, and he delayed not till he reached the summit of Ben-Gulban,[CXXXV.] where he found Finn; and Dermat, offering him no salute, asked him who it was that held the chase. Finn answered—
“Some of our men came out from Rath-Grania at midnight with their hounds; and one of the hounds coming across the track of a wild boar, both men and dogs have followed it up. I indeed would have held them back, but the men were eager, and left me here alone. For this is the track of the wild boar of Ben-Gulban, and they who follow him are bent on a vain and dangerous pursuit. Often has he been chased; and he has always escaped, after killing many men and dogs. Even now thou canst see in the distance that the Fena are flying before him; and he has slain several this morning. He is coming towards this hillock where we stand; and the sooner we get out of his way the better.”
But Dermat said he would not leave the hillock through fear of any wild boar.
“It is not meet that thou shouldst tarry here,” answered Finn. “Dost thou not know that thou art under gesa12 never to hunt a boar?”
Dermat answered, “I know nothing of these gesa; wherefore were they placed on me?”
And Finn said, “I will tell thee of this matter, for well do I remember it. When thou wert taken to Bruga of the Boyne, to be fostered by Angus, the son of Angus’s steward was fostered with thee, that he might be a companion and playmate to thee. Now the steward, being a man of the common sort, agreed to send each day to Bruga, food and drink for nine men, as a price for having his son fostered with thee—thy father, Donn, being one of the nobles of the Fena. And thy father was accordingly permitted to visit the house of Angus when it pleased him, with eight companions, and claim the food sent by the steward; and when he did not come, it was to be given to Angus’s house-folk.
“It chanced on a certain day that I was at Allen of the broad hill-slopes, with the chief men of the seven battalions of the Fena. And Bran Beg O’Bucan brought to my mind, what indeed I had forgotten, that it was forbidden to me to sleep at Allen more than nine nights one after another, and that the next would be the tenth.
“Now this restriction had not been placed on any of the Fena save myself, and they all went into the hall except thy father and a few others. Then I asked where we should get entertainment for that night. And thy father, Donn, answered that he would give me entertainment at Bruga of the Boyne; where food and drink awaited himself and his companions whenever he visited Angus. Donn said, moreover, that he had not been to see his son for a year, and that we were sure to get a welcome.
“So Donn and I and the few that were with us went to the house of Angus, bringing our hounds; and Angus welcomed us. And thou and the steward’s son were there, two children. After a while we could see that Angus loved thee, Dermat, very much, but that the house-folk loved the son of the steward; and thy father was filled with jealousy, that the people should show fondness for him and not for thee.
“After night had fallen, it chanced that our hounds quarrelled over some broken meat we had thrown to them, and began to fight in the court; and the women and lesser people fled from them hither and thither. The son of the steward happened to run between thy father’s knees, who, calling now to mind how the people favoured him more than thee, gave him a sudden strong squeeze with his knees, and killed him on the spot. And, without being seen by any one, he threw him under the feet of the hounds.
“When at last the dogs were put asunder, the child was found dead; and the steward uttered a long, mournful cry. Then he came to me and said—
“‘Of all the men in Angus’s house to-night, I have come worst out of this uproar; for this boy was my only child. And now, O Finn, I demand eric from thee for his death; for thy hounds have slain him.’
“I told him to examine the body of his son, and that if he found the mark of a hound’s tooth or nail, I would give him eric. So the child was examined, but no hurt—either bite or scratch—was found on him.
“Then the steward laid me under fearful bonds of druidical gesa,12 to find out for him who slew his son. So I called for a chess-board and some water, and, having washed my hands, I put my thumb under my tooth of knowledge;25 and then it was revealed to me that the boy had been slain by thy father. Not wishing to make this known, I now offered to pay eric for the boy; but the steward refused, saying that he should know who killed his son. So I was forced to tell him: whereupon he said—
“‘It is easier for Donn to pay me eric than for any other man in this house. And the eric I demand is that his son be placed between my knees: if the lad gets off safe, then I shall follow up the matter no further.’
“Angus was very wroth at this; and thy father would have struck off the steward’s head if I had not come between and saved him.
“The steward said no more, but went aside and brought forth a druidical magic wand, and, striking his son with it, he turned him into a great bristly wild boar, having neither ears nor tail. And, holding the wand aloft, he chanted this incantation over the boar—
“By this magical wand,
By the wizard’s command,
I appoint and decree,
For Dermat and thee,
The same bitter strife,
The same span of life:
In the pride of his strength,
Thou shalt slay him at length:
Lo, Dermat O’Dyna
Lies stretched in his gore;
Behold my avengers,
The tusks of the boar!
And thus is decreed,
For Donn’s cruel deed,
Sure vengeance to come—
His son’s bloody doom;
By this wand in my hand,
By the wizard’s command!
“The moment he had ended the incantation, the boar rushed out through the open door, and we knew not whither he betook himself.
“When Angus heard the steward’s words, he laid a command on thee never to hunt a wild boar, that so thou mightest avoid the doom foretold for thee.
“That same boar is the wild boar of Binbulbin; and he is now rushing furiously towards us. Come, then, let us leave this hill at once, that we may avoid him in time!”
“I know nothing of these incantations and prohibitions,” replied Dermat; “or if, as thou sayest, they were put on me in my boyhood, I forget them all now. And neither for fear of this wild boar of Ben-Gulban nor of any other wild beast will I leave this hillock. But thou, before thou goest, leave me thy hound, Bran, to help and encourage my dog, Mac-an-coill.”
“I will not leave him,” answered Finn; “for often has Bran chased this boar, and has always barely escaped with his life. And now I leave; for lo, here he comes over yonder hill-shoulder.”
So Finn went his ways, and left Dermat standing alone on the hill. And after he had left Dermat said—
“I fear me, indeed, that thou hast begun this chase hoping that it would lead to my death. But here will I await the event; for if I am fated to die in this spot, I cannot avoid the doom in store for me.”
Immediately the boar came rushing up the face of the hill, with the Fena following far behind. Dermat loosed Mac-an-coill against him, but to no profit; for the hound shied and fled before him at the first glance. Then Dermat said, communing with himself—
“Woe to him who does not follow the advice of a good wife! For this morning Grania bade me bring the Morallta and the Ga-derg; but I brought instead the Begallta and the Ga-boi, disregarding her counsel.”
Then, putting his white taper finger into the silken loop of the Ga-boi, he threw it with careful aim, and struck the boar in the middle of the forehead; but to no purpose, for the spear fell harmless to the ground, having neither wounded nor scratched the boar, nor disturbed even a single bristle.
Seeing this, Dermat, though indeed he knew not fear, felt his courage a little damped. And thereupon drawing the Begallta from its sheath, he dealt a blow on the boar’s neck, with the full strength of his brawny arm. But neither did he fare better this time; for the sword flew in pieces, leaving the hilt in his hand, while not a bristle of the boar was harmed.
And now the boar rushed on him as he stood defenceless, and with furious onset hurled him headlong to the earth; and, turning round, he gashed the hero’s side with his tusk, inflicting a deep and ghastly wound. Turning again, he was about to renew the attack, when Dermat flung the hilt of the sword at him, and drove it through the skull to his brain, so that the brute fell dead on the spot.
Finn and the Fena now came up, and found Dermat lying pale and bleeding, in the pangs of death. And Finn said—
“It likes me well, Dermat, to see thee in this plight; only I am grieved that all the women of Erin cannot see thee also. For now, indeed, the surpassing beauty of thy form, that they loved so well, is gone from thee, and thou art pale and deformed!”
And Dermat answered, “Alas, O Finn! these words surely come from thy lips only, and not from thy heart. And indeed it is in thy power to heal me even now if thou wilt.”
“How should I heal thee?” asked Finn.
“It is not hard for thee to do so,” answered Dermat. “For when, at the Boyne, the noble gift of foreknowledge was given to thee,25 this gift also thou didst receive—that to whomsoever thou shouldst give a drink of water from the closed palms of thy two hands, he should be healed from sickness or wounds, even though he stood at the point of death.”
“Why should I heal thee by giving thee drink from my hands?” replied Finn. “For of a certainty thou of all men dost least deserve it from me.”
“Thou surely speakest hastily, not remembering past services,” answered Dermat. “Well, indeed, do I deserve that thou shouldst heal me. Dost thou forget the day thou didst go with the chiefs and nobles of the Fena, to the house of Derca, the son of Donnara, to a banquet? And even as we sat down, and before the feast began, Carbri of the Liffey, son of Cormac, with the men of Tara, and of Bregia, and of Meath, and of Carmna, surrounded the palace, intent on slaying thee and all thy people. And they uttered three great shouts, and threw firebrands to burn the palace over our heads. Then thou didst arise and prepare to issue forth, but I put thee back and bade thee enjoy thy feast; and, leaving the banquet untasted, I rushed forth with a chosen few of my own men, and quenched the flames. Thrice we made a circuit of the palace, dealing slaughter amongst thy foes, so that we left fifty of them dead after each circuit. And having put Carbri and his men to flight, we returned to join the feast. Had I asked thee for a drink that night, gladly wouldst thou have given it to me. And yet, not more justly was it due to me then than it is now.”
“Ill dost thou deserve a healing drink from me, or any other favour,” said Finn; “for it was thy part to guard Grania the night we came to Tara; but thou didst espouse her secretly, and didst fly with her from Tara, knowing that she was betrothed to me.”
“Lay not the blame of that on me,” said Dermat; “for Grania put me under heavy gesa, which for all the wealth of the world I would not break through—no, not even for life itself. Neither did I rest on my own judgment in the matter; for well thou knowest that Oisin, and Oscar, and Dering, and Mac Luga counselled me to the course I took.
“And now, O Finn, I pray thee let me drink from thy hands, for I feel the weakness of death coming on me. And thou wilt not gainsay that I deserve it, if thou wilt only remember the feast that Midac, the son of Colga, made for thee in the Fairy Palace of the Quicken Trees.[CXXXVI.] To this feast Midac invited thee and thy companions; while to the Palace of the Island he brought secretly the King of the World with a great host, and the three kings of the Island of the Torrent, with intent to slay thee and all thy Fena.
“Now Midac caused some of the clay of the Island of the Torrent to be placed under you, with foul spells, in the Palace of the Quicken Trees, so that your feet and your hands clove to the ground. And it was revealed to thee that the King of the World was about to send a chief with a troop of warriors, to slay you, helpless as you were, and to bring him your heads to the Palace of the Island.
“But at that same time, I came to thee outside the Palace of the Quicken Trees; and thou didst make known to me your deadly strait. Then did I take thee, Finn, and those who were with thee, under the protection of my knighthood and valour; and I went to the ford to defend it against the foreigners.
“And after a little time the three dragon-like kings of the Island of the Torrent came towards the palace: but I defended the ford, and, venturing my life for thee, I bore their attack and slew them all three. And I swept off their heads, and brought them, all gory as they were, in the hollow of my shield, to the palace where you lay miserably bound; and, sprinkling the clay with the blood, I broke the spell and set you free. And had I asked thee for a drink on that night, O Finn, of a surety thou wouldst not have refused me.
“And many another deadly strait did I free you from, since the day I was admitted among the Fena, always putting myself forward to the post of danger, and perilling my life for your safety; and now why dost thou requite me with this foul treachery?
“Moreover, many a king’s son and many a brave warrior hast thou slain; and thou hast earned the enmity of powerful foes: neither is there yet an end of it. For the day will come—I see it even now—a day of direful overthrow and slaughter,[CXXXVII.] when few, alas! of the Fena will be left to tell the tale. Then thou shalt sorely need my help, O Finn, and sorely shalt thou rue this day. I grieve not, indeed, for thee, but for my dear, faithful companions—for Oscar and Mac Luga and Dering, and more than all for Oisin, who shall long outlive the others in sad old age.[CXXXVIII.] Alas! how deadly shall be their strait when I am not near to aid them!”
Then Oscar, moved with pity even to tears, addressing Finn, said, “Although I am nearer akin to thee, O king, than to Dermat, yet I cannot suffer that he die, when a drink from thy hands would heal him. Bring him, then, a drink without delay.”
And Finn answered, “I know of no well on this mountain from which to bring drink.”
“Therein thou speakest not truth,” said Dermat; “for thou knowest that not more than nine paces from thee, hidden under yonder bush, is a well of crystal water.”
Thereupon Finn went to the well, and, holding his two hands tightly together, he brought up some of the water, and came towards Dermat; but after he had walked a little way, he let it spill through his fingers, saying that he was not able to bring water in his hands so far.
“Not so, Finn,” said Dermat. “I saw thee that of thy own will thou didst let it spill. And now, O king, hasten, for death is on me.”
Again he went to the well, and was bringing the water slowly, while Dermat followed the dripping hands with his eyes; but when Finn thought of Grania he let the water spill a second time. And Dermat, seeing this, uttered a piteous sigh of anguish.
And now was Oscar no longer able to contain his grief and rage; and he said, “I swear, O king, if thou dost not bring the water, that only one of us two—thou or I—shall leave this hill alive!”
Hearing Oscar’s words, and seeing the frowning looks of the others, Finn dipped up the water a third time, and was hastening forward; but before he had got half-way, Dermat’s head dropped backwards, and his life departed.
And all the Fena present raised three long loud cries of sorrow for Dermat O’Dyna.
Then Oscar, looking fiercely on Finn, spoke and said, “Would that thou thyself lay dead here instead of Dermat! For now indeed the noblest heart of the Fena is still; and our mainstay in battle and danger is gone. Ah! why did I not foresee this? Why was I not told that Dermat’s life was linked with the life of the wild boar of Ben-Gulban? Then would I have stayed this chase, and put off the evil day!”
And Oscar wept; and Oisin, and Dering, and Mac Luga wept also, for Dermat was much loved by all.
After a time, Finn said, “Let us now leave this hill, lest Angus of the Bruga overtake us. For although we had no hand in Dermat’s death, nevertheless he may not believe us.”
So Finn and the Fena departed from the hill, Finn leading Dermat’s dog, Mac-an-coill. But Oisin, and Oscar, and Dering, and Mac Luga turned back, and with tears, threw their mantles over Dermat; after which they followed the others.
Grania sat that day on the highest rampart of Rath-Grania, watching for Dermat’s return; for a dark fear haunted her mind on account of this chase. And when at last the Fena came in view, she saw Dermat’s dog led by Finn; but not seeing Dermat himself, she said—
“Ah me! what is this I see? Surely if Dermat were alive, it is not by Finn that Mac-an-coill would be led to his home!”
And as she spoke she fell forward off the rampart, and lay long in a swoon as if her spirit had fled, while her handmaid stood over her, weeping and distracted. And when at last she opened her eyes, then indeed they told her that Dermat was dead; and she uttered a long and piteous cry, so that her women and all the people of the court came round her to ask the cause of her sorrow. And when they were told that Dermat had perished by the wild boar of Ben-Gulban, they raised three loud, bitter cries of lamentation, which were heard in the glens and wildernesses around, and which pierced the clouds of heaven.
When at length Grania became calm, she ordered that five hundred of her people should go to Ben-Gulban, to bring home the body of Dermat. Then, turning to Finn, who still held Mac-an-coill in his hand, she asked him to leave her Dermat’s hound; but Finn refused, saying that a hound was a small matter, and that he might be allowed to inherit at least so much of Dermat’s riches. When Oisin heard this, he came forward and took the hound from the hand of Finn and gave him to Grania.
At the time that the men left Rath-Grania to go for the body of Dermat, it was revealed to Angus that the hero was lying dead on Ben-Gulban. And he set out straightway, and travelling on the pure, cool wind, soon reached the mountain; so that when Grania’s people came up, they found him standing over the body, sorrowing, with his people behind him. And they held forward the wrong sides of their shields in token of peace.
Then both companies, having viewed the dead hero, raised three mighty cries of sorrow, so loud and piercing that they were heard in the wastes of the firmament, and over the five provinces of Erin.
And when they had ceased, Angus spoke and said, “Alas! why did I abandon thee, even for once, O my son? For from the day I took thee to Bruga, a tender child, I have watched over thee and guarded thee from thy foes, until last night. Ah! why did I abandon thee to be decoyed to thy doom by the guileful craft of Finn? By my neglect hast thou suffered, O Dermat; and now, indeed, I shall for ever feel the bitter pangs of sorrow!”
Then Angus asked Grania’s people what they had come for. And when they told him that Grania had sent them to bring the body of Dermat to Rath-Grania, he said—
“I will bring the body of Dermat with me to Bruga of the Boyne; and I will keep him on his bier, where he shall be preserved by my power, as if he lived. And though I cannot, indeed, restore him to life, yet I will breathe a spirit into him, so that for a little while each day he shall talk with me.”
Then he caused the body to be placed on a golden bier, with the hero’s javelins fixed one on each side, points upwards. And his people raised the bier and carried it before him; and in this manner they marched slowly to Bruga of the Boyne.
Grania’s people then returned; and when they had told her the whole matter, though she was grieved at first, yet in the end she was content, knowing how Angus loved Dermat.