A River Scene

In the ‘Fionn mac Cumhaill Series’ of books, there’s little love lost between the woman warrior Liath Luachra and Muirne Muncháem, mother of Fionn mac Cumhaill. This little scene from FIONN: The Adversary demonstrates how they have to work to get along to survive the hazards of the Great Wild.


On the southern bank of the river, the warrior Liath Luachra sat contemplating her reflection. The still pool, located to the side of a slow-flowing inlet, mirrored her haggard expression with unsettling accuracy. Her face was gaunt, her eyes framed by black rings, the high cheekbones sharpened by the shaded hollows beneath. The physical evidence from the toll of days of hard running and combat was impossible to ignore. Of more concern however was the worrying sense her internal resilience had also diminished, withered not only by the gruelling journey but the loss of Bodhmhall and Demne.

Her eyes turned to regard the coursing river with a mixture of bitterness and trepidation. A fast-flowing stretch of surging white water, just the sight of it was still enough to make her shiver. Less than a day earlier, she’d barely managed to crawl from its liquid grasp, half-drowned and at the limit of her endurance. Stretched exhausted on the sandy bank, she’d wanted nothing more than to lie there and sleep. Instead, she’d somehow forced herself to her feet and stumbled downriver, combing the bank for Bodhmhall and her nephew.

Several hundred paces later, numb with fatigue, she’d crawled into a cluster of fern inside the treeline, curled into a damp ball and promptly passed out. Later that afternoon, when she’d come to her senses, she felt stiff and cold and far from recovered. Staring up at patches of sky through the breaks in the forest canopy, she could tell from the grey quality of the light that nightfall was closing in. Despite feeling every bruise, every individual cut, scratch and strained muscle, she’d pushed herself off the ground and started searching again.

By the time dusk seeped in, she’d still found no sign of Bodhmhall or Demne although she did locate Muirne Muncháem and Gleor Red Hand. The Lamraighe couple had washed up together on a short mud flat over a thousand paces downriver from where she’d collapsed. Despite the gentle incline up to more solid ground however, they hadn’t progressed beyond the water’s edge.

Gleor, unconscious, had an ashen pallor that matched the hue of his greying beard. The Lamraighe leader’s face bore numerous cuts and bruises and she could see washed out bloodstains on his tunic, although she was unable to tell if they were his.

Muirne – the Flower of Almhu – normally a woman obsessed with her appearance, was sitting dismally in the mud beside him, caked in sludge and filth. Marks in the surface of the mud bank revealed how her attempts to shift her husband towards the bank had been stymied by the stocky weight of his body.

The two women had stared bleakly at one other for several heartbeats, their expressions lacking any warmth. Without a word, the Grey One had abruptly turned her gaze away and started off downriver. Muirne’s despairing pleas had trailed her until, finally, she’d halted and turned sharply to retrace her steps.

Cursing under her breath, she’d helped the Flower of Almhu drag the insensible Gleor up onto the bank and into a small clearing several paces inside the trees. Using her sword – miraculously, still in its scabbard – Liath Luachra had cut some saplings and constructed a rough lean-to in which they’d placed the comatose old man.

Not a single word was exchanged over the entire period the two women worked together. Holding the Lamraighe couple responsible for their predicament, Liath Luachra bore no love for either of them and knew the feeling was mutual. Despite this, when the shelter was complete, she’d crawled inside to sleep beside them, too tired to question why she’d returned to help them.

Too tired to do anything but sleep.

The Hunt

A section from ‘chapter two’ of FIONN: Defence of Ráth Bládhma. In this scene, the woman warrior Liath Luachra is out hunting with her enthusiastic young pupil, Bearach. She’s instructing him in the practicalities of the hunt.

Further detail on the book is available through the link.

—————————

They’d been stalking deer sign for the best part of the morning, following the meandering tracks through the frozen hill country east of Sliabh Bládhma. Liath Luachra estimated that there was one, possibly two, animals. Bearach was convinced there were at least four.

But then he’d always been an optimist.

Liath Luachra relaxed and slowly eased her grip on the javelin. She’d come to a stop in the murky shadow of one of the many trees coating the lower slopes and although she continued to scrutinise the terrain for movement, she was relatively sure the animals were not present.

As sure as she could be.

It was difficult to be certain from the most recent imprints they’d found. The snow cover was inconsistent among the hills and the substance of the previous fall had melted in the unexpected morning sunshine. Adding to the challenge was the fact the tracks alternated between dense wood land where the ground was still soft enough to leave a clear track, and rockier ground where the prints were easy to lose on the rough stone surface.

Liath Luachra exhaled a mouthful of ghost breath into the chilly air and watched the breeze snatch it away. Although she’d never admit to it, she didn’t particularly enjoy hunting in winter. In her experience, the physical effort and the sheer discomfort greatly exceeded the rewards. Certainly, there was no comparison to the hunt in warmer months. In summer, late spring and even early autumn you could simply choose a comfortable hiding site at one of the animals’ favourite feeding grounds, easily identified with experience and patience, and wait for the animals to come to you.

That, of course, was always better.

Training the young Fionn mac Cumhaill

A representation from illustrator Arthur Rackam of Liath Luachra teaching Demne (the young Fionn) at a very early age.

It’s actually a visual representation of a scene from Macgnímartha Finn where Liath Luachra and the young Fionn chase other around a tree with a switch.

You have to love the matching outfits.

Dead Men Standing

One thread that occasionally raises its head throughout Irish mythology is the motif associated with the burial process of some  (a word often mistranslated as ‘king’ but more accurately translated as ‘chieftain’) or mythological celebrities, where the corpse is bound upright or interred in the standing position, usually in defiance of an enemy or rival population group.

The early and medieval Irish literature contains several references in this regard but the most famous is probably linked to that of Cú Chulainn who, in a final act of defiance, ties himself to a standing stone to die on his feet. Facing his enemies, he remains upright for three days after he dies as they’re too terrified to come close (clearly, nobody thought of throwing a stone!).

Another celebrity associated with upright burials was Laoghaire (son of the infamous Niall). Famous for his hostile interactions with Saint Pat, Laoighaire is recorded (by Tíreachán) as being buried on the ridges of Tara, placed upright and facing south in defiance of the Leinster tribes. This follows somewhat in his father’s footsteps, given that Neill’s body was also said to have been held aloft by his tuath as a good-luck token when heading off to battle.

Early Irish literature has a few other references to the bodies of chieftains and heroes being buried upright and although there is a possibility that might have reflected some kind of burial ritual linked to the cult of warriors, it’s very much a literary motif rather than a historical one. As a result, you really have to be careful with its interpretation.

Forthcoming Production

This is a brief update on books that are planned /anticipated for release over the next 3-12 months. There’s further detail available in the September newsletter (Vóg) but I’m sure there’s something in the list below for everyone.

Confirmed Releases:

FIONN: The Betrayal (book six in the Fionn mac Cumhaill Series)

Although it’s still unclear whether this will the final book in the series or not, this follow up to ‘FIONN: The Tightening Trail’ will be available in March/April 2025 (and, hopefully, available free to newsletter supporters for Christmas). There will be A LOT of plot resolutions and revelations in this book.

Potential Releases:

At least one of the following will be released in 2025.

(1) Liath Luachra: The Hungry People (LL5)

The follow up to ‘Liath Luachra: The Metal Men’, this covers Liath Luachra’s deepening relationship with Bodhmhall and her conflict with new and existing enemies.

(2) Liath Luachra: The Quiet One

Another stand-alone novel, this follows on from ‘Liath Luachra: The Great Wild‘ and details another chilling adventure of the young warrior woman before she joins Bressal and Na Cinéaltaí.

(3) ‘Irish Mythology’ 101

‘Irish Mythology’ 101 essentially outlines the fundamentals of how ‘mythology’ works and how you can make sense of it /use it in contemporary life. It’s very much based on the cultural parameters within which I work and operate on a personal basis.

(4) Beara Series

A new adventure from Ireland’s greatest mythological detective (Muiris O’Súilleabháin ) as he deals with the double threat of a murderer and a dangerous banshee.

(5) The Irish Battle Trilogy

A trilogy of books on a famous Irish battle and the somewhat insane characters who took part in it. This is currently the lowest on my list of priorities.

Who was Fiacail mac Codhna

Fiacail mac Codhna is a swaggering and irrepressible warrior from the Fionn mac Cumhaill Series, based on the original Fenian narratives. Handsome, charming, and shrewdly strategic in battle, Fiacail’s potential for tribal greatness is undermined only by an over-sexed libido and a strong weakness for women, particularly where it relates to Bodhmhall ua Baoiscne, sometimes – but not always – portrayed as the aunt of Fionn mac Cumhaill.

Previously bonded to Bodhmhall, Fiacail’s tomcat behaviour eventually led to the dissolution of their relationship, something he still regrets many years later.

Fiacail mac Codhna’s quite a lot of fun as a character. He can be charmingly crass at times – particularly where it relates to sex – but his humour and genuine attraction to Bodhmhall means he’s a credible third player in the love triangle with Bodhmhall and Liath Luachra. His bawdy humour and blunt demeanour, meanwhile, offers welcome relief from some of the more serious and intellectual characters in the series.

When not chasing women, Fiacail likes long walks in the mornings (usually naked), having conversations with Great Father Sun. Much of this involves trying to convince Father Sun not to cause the end of the world but there’s also the occasional attempt to negotiate the gift of a pony.

Fiacail turns up on several occasions over the course of the original Fenian narratives, usually as a kind of foster father/advisor to the young Fionn mac Cumhaill. In some of the manuscripts however, he’s referred to as a ‘reaver’.

In modern Irish, ‘fiacail’ is actually the word for ‘tooth’ so it seems an unusual name for a character. Sadly, the name is so old even the Fenian narratives in the original manuscripts offer little explanation for its origin. As a result, I had to come up with own rationale

Goll mac Morna

Military leader of Clann Morna (not the chieftain), Goll mac Morna takes on a much larger role in Fionn mac Cumhaill’s life as the core Fenian narrative progresses.

Interestingly, you rarely see much about Goll from the English web content publishers (generally, because they don’t really understand how Gaelic culture works in the Fenian narratives) but Goll is actually quite the fascinating character when you get to know him.

All the same, you still wouldn’t want to meet him alone on a dark night.

In Cú Chulainn’s Footsteps

Ireland’s ‘Poc Fada’ (Long Puck) competition was originally inspired by the old Ulster tale of Cú Chulainn travelling across the Cooley Mountains to the territory land of his uncle, Conchubar mac Neasa. Bored by the journey, the young Cú Chulainn (then, Setanta) decided to shorten the road by ‘pucking’ a ball ahead of himself and then running to catch it before it hit the ground.

The more modern version of that is an unusual competition where the participants not only compete with each other across the Cooley Mountain, but compete with nature and the elements as well, all the while traversing a landscape emanating a genuine sense of ancient history and culture.

The first Poc Fada competition was held in 1960 with competitors following a designated trail over the ridge of the Cooley Mountains, pucking the sliotar over a distance of slightly more than three miles. That competition consisted of six young hurlers from the Dundalk region but by 1962, the popularity of the competition meant hurlers from all parts of the country were participating.

In its early days, the course was marked out with temporary flags but as the competition became more established, these were replaced by permanent standing stones. The rules of the competition are quite similar to golf in that the person who can hit the sliotar (the ball) through the outlined trail with as few pucks as possible is the winner.

In the early 1980s, the competition was revised with a new course through the Cooley Mountains (now, approximately 5km in length) and in 2004, camogie players were finally allowed to take part. To date, the record for the Cooley Mountains course stands at an impressive 48 pucks . That basically means the winner slammed the sliotar over an average distance of about 104 metres per puck – quite a remarkable feat – I certainly couldn’t do it.

The competition is still ongoing with the latest taking place last month on August 5th.

An Irish ‘Mythology’ Test

Irish (and other) cultural stories frequently get used in advertising campaigns – particularly where the base story can be linked to an ‘Irish’-related product. A lot of the time however, those advertisements can be misrepresentative or simply get things wrong.

Take this Guinness campaign for the Guinness-sponsored All-Ireland Hurling Championship, for example. If you look closely, you’ll see that one of the three Cú Chulainn images in the advertising campaign got its sources mixed up. Can you tell which one it was?

Photo A (The Bull)

(b) Photo B (The Giant)

Photo C (The Hound)

If you can’t work it out, you’ll find the answer in the original post HERE.

Deirdre Unforgiven

I came across an interesting book – Deirdre Unforgiven – by Eamon Carr during my recent visit home. Sitting in a friend’s bookshelf, I found myself drawn to it by the bleak cover image from Irish artist John Devlin.

A brief flip through it revealed the book was a clever conflation of the ancient Irish tragedy with more contemporary ‘troubles’ in the north of Ireland covered by Eamon Carr during his time as a journalist. As a result, it’s quite powerful and evocative but it’s certainly not light reading.

Certainly interesting for those with a link to/or interest in Northern Ireland and a familiarity with the raw narrative of the original tale, it can be ordered through the usual outlets.

No-one cares if you scream!

This is a tagline I was using recently for ‘The Great Wild’ – an unintended spin on the iconic ‘Alien’ feature film tagline (“In space, no-one one can hear you scream”). I only realised that a day or two after coming up with it.

That said, at the time, I felt my tagline worked in terms of capturing the ‘isolation’ concept of the Great Wild, as well as the callous nature of some of its inhabitants. The ‘Alien’ tagline, however, was exceptionally clever in that it also captured the whole nature of space (the vacuum meaning that you can’t, of course, physically scream).

I don’t really feel this kind of ‘market writing’ is my forte but I guess, you just do what you can and look at other talented people for inspiration.

‘Liath Luachra: The Great Wild’ is currently running at a reduced price ($2:00 instead of $4.99) but I’ll probably be going back to the original price in a few weeks.