Aonghus: at Beltaine 1997Muircheartach Mac Murchadh, like his father before him, was a sea raider (in our tongue, a "scot"). While raiding in Albu, his war band set upon a Cruithinach village (some call the Cruithinach "Picts"). The Cruithinach were warned of their approach and matched the Erinach sword for sword, shield for shield, and spear for spear. It was clear that this was to be a fierce battle and no one would escape wounding. Muircheartach, being a clever man, stepped forward and addressed himself to the Cruithin Chieftain but spoke loud enough for all to hear:

"We Erinach, are unafraid to die, and though our wounds will be many, yours will equal ours in number and redness, for every one of us that will not see the morning sun, there shall be one of you. But our deaths bring no profit, our wives shall be carried off, our hearths grow cold, and our children starve. Instead, Grant us this night hospitality, and in the morning send with us these brave men that stand before us. Together, both of our peoples will take from the richest of your enemies, we will face those whom you dared never face before... The choice is yours, O Chieftain, for we will fight and let our women be carried off, let our hearths grow cold, and let our children starve, if only to prove our bravery."

The Cruthin clann had suffered long at the hands of their enemies and wished not to make another one. He also delighted at the chance to break his enemies of their power and seek revenge for many past injuries. Muircheartach and his men were made welcome. As planned, they set out the next morning.

They raided the lowlands, fighting a people who spoke a strange language and had even stranger customs. From these people they carried off gold, silver, and many rare and wondrous goods. The raids were so prosperous and the mood so jubilant, upon their return, the Cruithin granted wives to the unwed Erinach and a pact of friendship was made. To keep this bond strong, the future sons and daughters of some of these unions were promised to be sent back to Albu when they became of age.

Muircheartach himself was unwed and took a Cruithin wife. This amused the Cruthinach considering his words when they first met him. Muircheatach returned to Eriu with his wife as did his men. They lived well with the wealth they had won, and the tales told of battle feats were long counted at the fire.

Muircheartach's wife bore him three sons. One of these sons was Con Mara, and fierce and fiery of temper was he. He and his brothers were all taught the ways of their father... how to handle both sword, and currach. They listened at length to the battle stories of their father with wide eyes and dreamed of the day they too would get the chance to prove themselves in battle.

When the youngest of them became of age, they were sent with the other young wolves of the clann to Albu to claim their wives from the Cruithin. They were received with honor and entertained for three nights. When time came to arrange the marriages, however, the Cruthin chief found it difficult to uphold the pact. The householders would not agree to part with their daughters. The wolves did not bring bride price, thinking themselves exempt on terms of the pact. The Cruithinach protested that the Erinach were rude and ill mannered for neglecting such a basic tenet of honorable conduct and thus not worthy of their daughters.

The Erinach argued that their fathers did not pay bride price, and that the protection that the Cruithinach received was in fact worth a hundred times any bride price. After all, had not they over come their enemies when once they were subject? Did they not now prosper in light of former days? But in truth, the Cruithin suffered many hardships since the great raids of their fathers. They had suffered from the depredations of yet another invasion of their land, and many of their men folk had been killed or taken as slaves. The Cruithinach were unmoved by this argument and said that the fathers of the Erinach did indeed pay bride price with the blood of their enemies, and that the young Erinach must pay something as well.

The wolves, insulted, frustrated, and not wishing to return home empty handed, decided that if it was blood they wanted it would be blood they would get - but it would be Cruithin. The Erinach, shouting of betrayal, pointed their gleaming blue spears and prepared to fight. The Cruithinach prepared themselves as well. But before the first stroke of battle could fall, Donnacha, poet of the Cruithin, stepped between the two hosts and spoke:

These words fell upon the hosts as does the strains of the harp played at slumber. These words were wise, and none disputed the judgment.

The wolves were entertained for three more nights. Then they were provisioned and sent off. Many young Cruithin had joined the war band as well in want of revenge, wealth and glory. It was said that the wheel of war had turned full circle, and it was now time for them to repeat the deeds of their fathers. Con Mara wished to exceed them.

They sailed south along the coast of Albu, traveling by day. They camped along the shore at night and when the plain of Lir grew to angry and when the horses of Manannan thundered too loudly. At the campfires, the Cruithinach told the Erinach the full measure of the pains they had suffered, of the honorless men that inflicted them, and of their want of vengeance. Con Mara's thirst for battle increased, as did many of the Erinachs at the hearing of the foul deeds, and Roman heads were promised as compensation.

After some nights they reached the south lands. They hid their boats and wandered inland. Many villages of this land had little worth taking, and seemed to fair no better than the Cruithins. Deeper inland they traveled, until finally, they reached a village the likes of which none of them had ever seen before. It splendor put a deep hunger on even the most unwanting of men. They camped some distance from the village under the coverage of forest.

Morrigu hear us sing to you
if not victory, glorious death
for never shall we turn to run
whilst our bodies still hold breath

Daybreak
Blow the horn
rattle pointed spears
clash together iron swords

band upon your shields

The Roman warriors answered the call and made a wall of their shields. Con Mara stood forward and offered challenge but was met in the center only by javelins. Surely these were the honorless dogs of Cruithin legend.

With the Romans defeated, the town was looted and burned. The war chief granted Con Mara the sole rights to the plunder of a wealthy looking villa on the outskirts of the town as compensation for his unmet challenge.

Con Mara and his brothers took some horses and rode out to the villa. They were met by the owner of the villa who stood unafraid before them and spoke to them through a slave interpreter. He said his name was Albanus, he was a retired man of some importance among his people. He asked Con Mara and his brothers to spare his family, that he would freely give anything he had, including his own life, in exchange for their safety.

Con Mara was compassionate, and told Albanus, that not only would he spare his life and family, he would personally guarantee the protection of his daughter, Drusilla. At that he rode off with her along with a sizable dowry and the slave interpreter, but he made sure to leave his most prized severed head for the bride price.

The war band collected itself, returned north, and the warriors claimed their wives. Thus was Con Mara to have two wives, one Roman one Cruithin. For nine days they were feasted and honored, but in that time, Drusilla, being or rare blood and dressed in her Roman finery, caught the eye of a noble Cruithin householder. The noble plotted to seperate Con Mara from his prize. In a night of drunken revelry, the noble asked Con Mara his account of the raid. Con Mara, full of mead, highlighted his tale with his own feats, forgetting the deeds of the householder's kinsmen. The noble quickly claimed that Con Mara had insulted his house and demanded his Roman woman as honor price on behalf of his house.

An uneasy silence quickly befell the revelry and hands slowly moved to their sword hilts in waiting for Con Mara's reaction. Con Mara calmly cleared his throat and spoke:

"I regret having slighted your house's honor, I am full of mead and my mind is not at its best. But I will pay you even better than you demand, I give you my Cruithin woman, for surely her blood is worth ten times that of any Romans."

Outwitted and under the eyes of his chieftain and clan, the noble accepted the offer and the revelry resumed for the evening.

With their welcome strained and not wishing for more incident, The Erinach returned home. In time Drusilla bore Con Mara a son. He was given the name Ronan ("little seal") for he was to be of the sea as his father and fathers before him. As Ronan grew, he was taught the ways of the sea, how to handle a sword, and also some of the language of his mother's people. It became clear however that Ronan would make only an average sailor, though he was quite good at the fidchell board. When he had seen ten winters it was decided that he would be sent to Albu to be fostered by Donnacha, the poet of the Cruithin.

In Albu, Ronan was taught the Oghams and the Druidic arts. He made a good, but impatient student. He often became bored with the tedious training and Donnacha would ask the same dull question over and over. Ronan in response, hacked the answer in ogham in a javelin pole and hurled it so that it struck the tree besides the poet. Donnacha then said to Ronan:

"You may be called "little seal" but you answer with a unique vigor - and that of a wild boar!"

Thus did Ronan drop his childhood name. When he earned the bronze branch he returned to his clann in Eriu.

I am Aonghus na hOrc Mor, the son of Con Mara, grandson of Muircheartach Mac Murchadh of the Tuatha de Bhriain. I have served my clann as poet when wise Falgon was chieftain. I was made chieftain after him and led my clann in battle and war. When I retired and went to the forest for solitude, still I was council to fierce Monlia when he was chieftain. And now I serve my clann as chieftain as once I did before.