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The Hound of Erin
The Hound of Erin
The Hound of Erin
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The Hound of Erin

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The Hound of Erin delves into the ancient history of our world, primarily of Ireland and the Celts and the mystic lore of these people. So many historically-found lore and myths of these ancient people seem complex and hard to follow. This story fills in those gaps and softens the transition to such details in a colorful and epic event.


The characters in this book have a rich mythological history, and this saga is about their greatest hero, Cuchuland, whose name was ever on the lips of the bards and poets, who flamed like a comet through the pages of the ancient manuscripts on Celtic mythology.


This hero of two separate worlds gained his fame and honor in the world of man by fighting great battles and servings the kings of Ireland and those of the sidhe (faerie)realm.


Any fan of Tolkien's popular books - The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, etc. will love The Hound of Erin, and also Cash Bond's other book, The Faerie Bard.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateMar 2, 2011
ISBN9781452034522
The Hound of Erin
Author

Cash Bond

Cash Bond (1/11/26 - 7/14/07) was an accomplished writer, historian, and genealogist.  He was also a poet, philologist, and a tremendous fan of Tolkien's books and movies. The Faerie Bard is one of two celtic books that he wrote before he died.  Share Bond, his daughter who is also an author, wanted to make sure that he lived on in his books, so edited and published them in his legacy.

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    The Hound of Erin - Cash Bond

    Foreword

    Written by Share Bond

    THE HOUND OF ERIN WAS written by my father, Cash Bond (1926 – 2007). After reading the book, I recalled stories he had told me as a child, with my favorite being about Billy Goat Gruff and the Troll under the bridge. I also remember about the wee people in the house of the giants, and one falling into the porridge with a plop, as was in this book. He often talked about the little people around the world.

    Later he told me that he was a faerie in a past life. Laughingly, I said he should be careful when telling that to people or they might think something else.

    Dad was passionate and very knowledgeable when discussing Celtic history, myths and stories. Most of the time he had his nose buried in books, especially history books.

    He started writing his Celtic books in his teens while in the military service. When his son, Timothy Bond, found the mountain of notes, he suggested that dad write them into books, and set him up with a computer in order to do so.

    Dad was a bard in this life, playing the piano since the age of three, and tinkered with the ukulele. Also faerie-like, he was short, witty, and mischievous and was a great story-teller. He would charm women with his music and wit, even my own mother.

    I took care of dad the last couple years of his life in California and he dearly loved our little herd of tiny Nigerian dwarf goats. I named two of the bucklings Celtic Cash and Faerie Bard, knowing that would make him very happy.

    He was an avid reader of Tolkien’s books – the best known being The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings Trilogy - that he might be eligible for the Guinness World Records, since he read those books and watched the videos at least 100 times each. On my last day with dad I brought him an audio book of The Lord of the Rings for him to enjoy, since his eyes and ears had been failing him. This delighted him.

    Months later I sat wondering what to do with dad’s two books, this one and The Faerie Bard, and decided to just leave them, because I was busy writing and promoting my own books, and didn’t know how or where to market them. I had no motivation.

    Then fate led me to meet a druid at a local event, Lore Mordred (Hector’s druidic name). We hit it off immediately and decided to spend a week together doing some projects. It didn’t take long before we realized that dad probably had something to do with our getting together. Lore read this book and was extremely excited and impressed with it. He agreed to design the book covers and knew a lot of places to market the books. It was his excitement that enticed me to proofread and edit the books, get them printed up, and then promote both of them.

    In the words of this book, Usually death comes by our own choice when we tire of it and we then enter the void, I believe that this was dad’s own choice. I felt it on his last day. Dad is now watching from the void and is smiling in his impish grin, happy that the books on which he worked so diligently did not die with him.

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    Preface

    THE GOIDEL HAD PROSPERED AND the wide green hills of Erin were theirs. These early Celtic invaders from Iberia in the southwest of Europe had conquered the faerie Túatha de Danaan at the battle of Teillte, and caused them to flee to the eldrich realm of their sidhe beneath the hills. The Goidel held them in an awe bordering on sanctity with many of the common people worshiping them as Gods. There was some inter-marriage between the ruling class of the Goidel and the people of the Danaan, and their remarkable offspring were among the greatest leaders of the land.

    They had overwhelmed all the native peoples of the country, and for over eight hundred years their kings had ruled.

    These people had abandoned many of the panoply of Gods they had previously worshipped while in Europe, and in this new country embraced the sun, moon, stars and the earth itself as their deities. Rivers, trees, wells and even stones were symbols of the supernatural forces they venerated. They adopted some of the beliefs of the Egyptians with whose country they had previous contact.

    They were deeply interested in their ancestry and, through their genealogists, could trace them back for many hundreds of years. Their history was recited to them regularly at gatherings so that it was deeply imbedded in the minds of all attending.

    In this land the druids would wield even more power than the kings, for they were the judges and the arbiters. Their monarchs sat on the thrones in their great dúnnum and passed them on to their sons. They collected the taxes, made the wars and fought the battles, but every move and every decision was made only after consulting with their druids, whose advice was always heeded. They were the interpreters of the will of the gods and none dared the risk of offending them, for excommunication from the rites of their religion was the worst punishment a person could receive.

    While many of these druids could write in Greek symbols, it was forbidden to put any of their lore in writing. It all had to be memorized and passed along generation by generation, and it took many years of study to learn all of this lore. They had no written language of their own other than primitive markings called ogham for simple messages.

    There were many kings in Erin, each owing fealty to a higher king, and on some occasions there was a high king over all, ruling often parts of Britain and mainland Europe as well, and each had a druid as his councilor. For the most part, these druids were goodly men, wise and dedicated to the service of their kingdoms and their gods. They were exempt from military service and paid no taxes, making membership desired by many, but difficult to achieve. In the druidic schools of medicine, the surgical skill of trepanning the skull was known, and their knowledge of healing herbs was vast.

    Camanachd, or hurley, was a very popular sport and warriors often carried their curved camans, or hurley sticks, along with their spears. It was known that on several occasions opposing armies settled the outcome of their conflict using their hurleys rather than their more fearsome weapons.

    To these vainglorious and boastful people war in itself was sport. Often the outcome of a battle would be decided with each army choosing a single champion to represent them. The losing army would then usually accept the outcome.

    Warriors patrolled their kingdoms constantly on the lookout for raiders, for the stealing of cattle took place all the time. Not because of need, but it was done to harass their enemies, displaying their skill and valour.

    Forays were regularly made by groups called reavers to capture slaves, pillage and bring home loot that they could then brag about. Large numbers of men followed this practice, for it gave them one more outlet for their combative nature.

    In more general battles, often the leader of a number of men would challenge an enemy of equal rank to individual combat. The warriors of the fallen leader would then stay out of the battle. Thus, if the fallen leader led two hundred men, the victor could then boast that he had defeated two hundred men. Their word was sacred and rarely was their honor lost, for guile and deceit were almost completely foreign to them, and they were ever chivalrous.

    They respected their geis, which was a sacred ban, and under no circumstances would willingly violate it. They were straightforward and loved display that was made evident by their colorful clothing and jeweled armament. They would juggle their weapons before the enemy to show their skill and make great and lengthy boasts of their prowess and the champions they had slain in battle. In single combat they took the heads of their foe and carried them home as trophies and proof of victory. They feared not death, for their belief in an afterlife was so sincere that some were even known to make loans to be repaid in another life.

    They rarely rode on horseback in battle, as did their European counterparts, but their champions did battle from chariots with a driver. These machines often had scythes on the hubs of their wheels that wreaked havoc among warriors on foot. When a chariot was wheeled to the left, this meant a challenge to a warrior in another chariot. This move was called giving the ‘jaw.’ They used spears, swords, axes, clubs, javelins, sharp throwing shields, and slings as their weapons. The bow and arrow were strangely unknown to them.

    This land was divided into five provinces known as the coiceda, each with its own high king. They were Ulaid, Mumu, Lagin, Connachta and last was Midhe. Within these provinces were many villages and homesteads, but no cities as such.

    These warrior-led people rarely united, thought only of conflict, raiding and pillaging each other and the lands to the east without rest. If an enemy was not handy, they fought among themselves.

    Their Brehon Laws were as sophisticated as any in the world at the time, and covered every aspect of life in Erin such as fosterage, land transfer, rights of vassals, arbitration, penalties and many other coded laws to protect the rights of their subjects. They practiced justice and righteousness.

    Among the ruling aristocracy, marriages were rarely a love match, but more often made for reasons political. Marital fidelity was not expected and their wives mated with whom they pleased and often produced children by several mates.

    Once chided by a Roman matron about their lack of morals and free love, a Celtic lady replied, We give our love freely to the very best of men and their sons become kings, while your women consort in secret with the worst of men and their sons are merely bastards. Their children were often placed in foster homes. This strengthened the bonds between families, diversified the children’s skills and removed the over-indulgence often practiced by parents.

    They mined salt, copper, iron and tin, with their skilled artisans creating fine works of bronze, silver and gold. Their enameled pieces were unmatched, being greatly desired throughout the world. They traded widely with other nations and their few ships plied all the seas of the known world.

    Their language was beautiful and evocative, much softer and lyrical than the speech of the other Celts, lending itself to a rich alliterative poetry at which they were masters.

    Poets and other men of learning were called fili and were members of a Druidic Order.

    These people had a rich mythic history, and this saga is about their greatest hero, CúChulaind, whose name was ever on the lips of the bards and poets, who flamed like a comet through the pages of the ancient manuscripts on Gaelic mythology.

    A Gaelic pronunciation guide, grammar, lineage charts of the characters, and a map of ancient Ireland showing the arena of action are in the back of this book for the convenience of those who wish to learn more of the these great people.

    May you enjoy reading this book as much as I did researching and writing it.

    Acknowledgements

    Special thanks goes to Cash Bond’s son, Timothy Bond, for proofreading and to his daughter, Share Bond, for making sure that his wonderful written creations didn’t die with her father, as well as proofreading, editing, getting them printed up and promoting his books.

    Thanks also to Lore Mordred for his computer help, input, book cover designs and illustrations. He is a very talented druid.

    Contents

    Foreword

    Preface

    Acknowledgements

    The Gift

    The Early Years

    The Hound

    The Chariots

    The Maiden

    Scathach

    The Wedding

    The Sword

    Rathcroghan

    Derdriu

    The Raid

    The Mor Rioghain

    The Romans

    Crom Cruach

    The Norsemen

    The Ulaid

    Temiur

    The Champion

    The Gruagach

    Jealousy

    Etain

    The Reavers

    The Goblins

    Condlae

    Rosnaree

    The Dilemma

    Bruig na Boine

    The Prophesy

    Revenge

    Conclusion

    Pronunciation of Old Gaelic Words

    Old Gaelic Glossary

    References

    Map of Ancient Ireland

    Chapter 1

    The Gift

    ALL THE NOBLES OF THE province of Ulaid had gathered at Emuin Machae to mourn, for they had lost their awesome king, the giant Fachtnae Fathach. He was the son of the renowned Red Ross of Clan Rory and was a direct descendant of Eimhir, a grandson of Miled and Scota. For many hundreds of years, monarchs of this line of the Scotti had reigned, and would for many more. His half brother, Fergus macRoich, was selected to be made the king, but when he declined to rule, the step-son of Fachtnae, Conchubur macNessa, was chosen to be the new king. His father was Cathbad the druid, who had mated with his mother, Nessa, prior to her marriage to Fachtnae Fathach. She was the daughter of Echid Yellow Heel, a king of the Pictish Cruithne of Dal Riata.

    Conchubur was a tall, graceful man with long yellow hair, a forked beard and an attractive ruddy countenance. His brow was high, broad and noble. He was an administrator of much ability and ruled wisely. His first spouse was Mebd, the daughter of Eochu Feidlich, who was willful and strong. She desired to be master as well as mistress, so they separated, and he found a gentler wife when he wed her sister, Mugain Attenchaitrech. Mebd later became queen of the province of Connachta, and was the constant and most-dreaded enemy of Conchubur.

    During his reign, an event of much importance took place. His half sister, Deichtire, with some of her young maiden friends, disappeared one day, and for three years they were searched for without success. One bright summer morning, a flock of birds appeared, descended upon the fields, and began to destroy the crops and fruit. They were the most beautiful birds that had ever been seen. There were nine flocks of them, linked together two by two with fine chains of gold. Three were unfettered and flew by themselves. The people marveled at these strange and beautiful birds, gathering outside the village to see them. The king, with Fergus macRoich, Celtchar macUthechar, Bricriu Nemthenga and others of his nobles, went out to chase them away with slings, but the birds flew only a little way off each time, luring the mounted party on and on, past Sliebh Fuad, by Ath Lethan, past Garach, the birds before them always, until they found themselves near the sidhe of Oengus Og at Bruig na Boine.

    Dark it is getting, Fergus, and this pelting rain is soaking us, grumbled the king in vexation. See if you can find us a place of shelter where we may build a fire and sleep for the night.

    Not difficult that, replied Fergus. Cold and wet it is, and we are indeed in need of rest and shelter. He scouted about and found an old abandoned hut that would serve the purpose, and brought the party there. While the others feasted by their warming fire, Bricriu Nemthenga explored further, and after a time, came upon a fine house by the river. On entering the mansion, he was met by a handsome young man in shining armour, of pleasant dress and appearance, who addressed him, Welcome to my brugh, O thou man of the Ulaid. What thou seekest may be found within. This young man was Lugh, son of Cian the Danaan, and whose mother was the Fomhóirian Princess Ethliu.

    With him were Deichtire and the missing maidens, who greeted the visitor with joy, and they questioned him about their friends and relatives in Emania.

    After Bricriu had answered all of their questions, Lugh gave him the gift of a purple cloak with golden fringes, and he went back with his tale to Conchubur, who at once sent for Deichtire to come to him. Saying that she was ill, Deichtire requested a delay, and so the night passed.

    In the morning a newborn male infant was found in the hut. This was Deichtire’s gift to the Ulaid, and for this purpose, she had asked Lugh, who was the child’s father, to lure them to the sidhe with the birds.

    All the nobles desired to foster the child, and arguments began to break out among them. Conchubur asked them to recite their qualifications before he judged who would become the guardian.

    Senchae, son of Ailill macMaelchlod, who was the brehon of Conchubur, made his request saying, It is for me to bring him up, for I am able and good at disputes. I speak before any in the presence of the king; I give judgment in the quarrels of the kings; I am the judge of the men of Ulaid; and none but Conchubur has the right to dispute my claim.

    If I am given the child to rear, said Blai Bruigu, another son of Fachtnae, he will not suffer from want of care or forgetfulness. It is my messages that do the will of Conchubur; I call up the fighting men; I settle their business and their disputes; I support their honour.

    You think too much of yourself, interrupted Fergus macRoich. It is I that will bring up the child. I am strong; I have wisdom; no one can stand up to me in honour or riches; I am hardened to battles; I am the most worthy to bring up the child.

    Conchubur heard them all and declared that the druid Morann should decide, for his judgments were known to be wise, and would be accepted by all. Morann withdrew from the group for some time pondering his difficult decision. These were proud men, quick to anger, and given to violence when their will was thwarted. After giving consideration to all the arguments, he said, It is for Conchubur to help the child to a good name, for he is next of kin to him. Let Senchae teach him words and speech; let Fergus hold him on his knees; let Blai teach him gentle manners; let Amorgen Iarnguinach be his tutor; and let his wife Findchóem nurse him, for she is nursing Conall, her own child. He then made a prophecy. The praise of this boy will be in the mouths of all men. Charioteers, warriors, kings and sages will recount his deeds, and he will win the love of many. He will avenge all your wrongs; he will give combat at the fords, and will decide all your quarrels.

    The boy was called Setantaé, which means ‘he who knows the way’, and he was given as his birthright the land of Muirtheimhne from Dún Delga south to Dún Uisliu, which went west to the very borders of Connachta. All the nobles were satisfied with this judgment, and it was a happy troupe that returned to Emuin Machae with the child.

    Findchóem was well pleased when Amorgen brought her the infant fosterling to nurse and care for. She loved children, and had lost so many to disease and miscarriages over the years.

    Chapter 2

    The Early Years

    IN A SECLUDED VALLEY NEAR Taillte was the prosperous farm of Amorgen Iarnguinach, known as Dún Imrith. Each well-tended field was surrounded by trimmed hedges of hawthorn, and neither weed nor stone could be found in them. Cottages of his vassals dotted the landscape and cattle grazed on the lush grasses, while they lowed in their contentment. Oak, alder, elm and ash trees filled the pleasant woodlands around the fields. Spring had come to the fertile valley, and color from the new wild flowers sprinkled the fields.

    A pair of otter frolicked in the nearby stream to satisfy their hunger with a succulent eel, as an ox plodded slowly across a field pulling a plow, and the smell of the newly-turned earth filled the air, while the plowman stopped to wipe his brow as he watched the birds carrying nesting material to the trees. A contented smile came across his face as he prodded the ox, and started plowing again. Wheat, barley and flax would soon be growing in these well-tended fields.

    The round brugh of Amorgen was large and comfortable, constructed of wickerwork walls that had been covered with clay and lime. It was opposite the main gate of the walled compound and was surrounded by domestic buildings, the homes of his kinsmen, and pens for his stock. Around the perimeter were the grain mills, forges, workshops, the domed baking ovens and smoke houses. It sat on the top of a high hill with a view of the entire valley. The roof was of heavy thatching and the interior beams were of fine wood, intricately carved and inlaid with bronze. The floor was earthen, but covered with skins, carpets and fresh rushes. There were no slaves and few servants, for members of the large extended family did most of the work.

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