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Cúchulainn War Dog
The Legendary Cúchulainn
In the ancient land of Ireland, a prophecy foretold the birth of a great warrior whose deeds would grant him everlasting fame, though his life would be brief. This warrior, known for his terrifying battle frenzy, would become unrecognizable in the heat of battle, striking fear in both friend and foe alike. This is the story of Setanta, the boy destined to become the legendary Cúchulainn.
Setanta was born in a time when King Conor MacNessa ruled over Ulster, with his loyal warriors, the Red Branch Knights, defending the land. It was a time of war, magic, and the supernatural. In Dundalk, then known as the Plains of Muirthemne, Setanta grew up with extraordinary abilities in wisdom, warfare, magic, and poetry. From a young age, he dreamt of joining the Red Branch Knights, inspired by their strength and bravery.
Despite his youth, Setanta's prowess in hurling—a traditional Irish sport—was unmatched, and his team always emerged victorious. At just ten years old, he pleaded with his parents to let him join the Red Branch Knights. Though they deemed him too young, Setanta was determined to fulfill his destiny. One night, armed with his hurling stick and ball, he set off for King Conor MacNessa's castle at Emain Macha.
Upon arriving, Setanta joined a hurling match despite the other boys' reluctance due to his superior skills. King Conor, impressed by the boy's talent and determination, allowed him to stay. Setanta's journey to becoming a Red Branch Knight began with joining the boys' army, the Macra.
One day, King Conor invited Setanta to a feast at the fort of Culann, the blacksmith. Setanta, engrossed in a hurling match, promised to arrive later. When he finally reached the fort, the gates were locked, and an enormous wolfhound guarded it. Undeterred, Setanta killed the hound by striking a hurling ball down its throat. To atone, he pledged to guard the fort himself, earning the name "CúChulainn," or "Hound of Culann."
Cúchulainn quickly became the best guard and eventually joined the ranks of the Red Branch Knights. He earned his place as the greatest of them all, famously defending Ulster singlehandedly when the rest of the knights were incapacitated by a magical curse. His legendary status was cemented in the epic tale "Táin Bó Cuailnge" (The Cattle Raid of Cooley).
The Táin Bó Cuailnge is among the oldest and most celebrated legends in European folklore. It tells of Queen Medb of Connacht's attempt to steal the prized Brown Bull of Cooley and Cúchulainn's valiant efforts to repel her army. This epic culminates in Cúchulainn's poignant battle with his foster-brother and best friend, Ferdia, and ultimately, his death while tied to a standing stone.
Cúchulainn is perhaps best remembered for his berserker battle-rage. In this state, he transformed into a fearsome figure: his body contorted, his eyes shifted unnaturally, and sparks flew from his mouth. His heart thundered, and his hair stood on end, each strand tipped with a fiery spark. This terrifying transformation sent a cloud of gloom across the battlefield, embodying both his unmatched strength and the tragic curse of his short life.
The tale of Setanta, who became the legendary Cúchulainn, continues to inspire awe, symbolizing the valor and tumultuous spirit of ancient Irish warriors.
Cúchulainn, although still a young man, had made many powerful enemies, but none more bitter and dark than Queen Medb of Connaught, whose armies he had routed and whose ambitions he'd thwarted. Long into the dark nights of winter, year after year she brooded on the humiliations visited upon her, for undying is the wrath of a Queen.
She held council with the families of those slain by the youthful hero, nodded and commiserated with their tears, but the only ones that were of any use to her schemes were the three daughters of Calatin, who between them had three eyes and a terrible hunger for vengeance. For it was their father who had been slain by Cúchulainn along with twenty seven of their brothers, even though Calatin had been a powerful sorcerer and druid with many foul shades at his beck and call.
Seeing that their blood ran true, Medb took them into her household and sent them to Alba and Babylon that was of old to learn the arts of magic, and this task they fulfilled well, returning with the lore of Old Night at their command.
Medb felt the time was right for her revenge, so she waited until the men of Ulster fell ill with the birth pangs of Macha, a curse laid upon them by a Sidhe woman they had wronged, and set out with her armies to invade Ulster yet again.
King Conchobar of Ulster heard about her schemes though, and knew he had to keep his champion away from the battle, for if his mightiest warrior fell, Emain Macha was sure to fall with him. As the daughters of Calatin approached, he bid his court, groaning with agony as they were, to make merry and sing loud songs and let the mead flow freely.
From thistles and bushes outside the fortress the daughters of Calatin conjured up the form of a mighty and fell-handed army, fierce of aspect and heavily armed, and made the glamour bellow and shriek to drown out the feasting within. Cúchulainn started at the noise and made ready to ride out and fight, but the King's druids and women convinced him that it was but an illusion.
Knowing he'd had a close call, King Conchobar declared that the best place for the carousing would not be at Emain Macha, but rather in a valley nearby called Glenn na Bodhar, which meant the valley of the deaf, for no noise from outside could penetrate it - so strangely was it formed that sound itself was reflected back.
But this didn't deter the three witches, who wrought mightily their evil spells and made long-lasting pacts with the Other world, and soon an even more powerful illusion was raised, with fire and smoke and the sounds of shrieking women passing tormented down the high winds.
Seeing the smoke and flame and the flights of arrows, Cúchulainn was incensed and filled with rage, but Cathbad the druid again managed to calm him down before the furies could take hold of him, and he relaxed even less comfortably than the last time, casting many dark gazes at the land beyond the valley walls.
Baffled, the daughters of Calatin conferred among themselves but it was Medb who showed them the way, and they worked their magics one more time to bestow the appearance of Niamh, a close friend of Cúchulainn, upon one of their number. She went to Cúchulainn and entreated with him to come forth and save the land, for darkness was all about and the innocent were being slaughtered.
Well, after that nothing could hold the hero back, and he went straight away to his mighty horse, Lia Macha, the Grey of Macha, and tried to yoke it to his chariot, but it refused and wept tears of red blood, shying away from him. He cried out that his horse should not betray him, and so the lordly beast agreed to be yoked and his charioteer Laeg, best in all the lands, took the reins before him.
His mother Deichtre came to him then and offered him wine to drink, but as it touched his lips he spat it out, for it had turned to blood! She washed the cup and twice more offered it to him, but twice more the same thing happened, and he could not taste the wine.
Riding forth from Emain Macha, he saw a Badb, an old woman of the Sidhe, washing clothes in the river, keening quietly to herself.
“Whose gore-stained garments are those?” demanded Cúchulainn, and she answered, “Why my lord, they are yours!”
Shaking his head he rode towards the banners of Medb's army which he could see in the distance, but before he could get there he was hailed by three old crones roasting a dog over an open fire. They invited him to take a bite, but he was repulsed, for not only was the meat foul but it was against his geas, or sacred forbidding, to partake of dog flesh.
The hags reminded him then that there was also a geas against refusing hospitality, even more powerful than his own geases, and they mocked him for his weakness, saying he was too used to the fancy fare served in the King's hall.
Stung and bewildered, he took a bite of the meat, and half his strength fell from him in that moment. The old women cackled and ran away with surprising vigour, for they were none other than the Morrigan, taking her revenge for Cúchulainn's spurning of her advances earlier!
And now before Medb's army he stood, and beheld their banners flapping in the wind. He bore with him three spears, each fated to slay a king, so his enemies had decided they needed to get the weapons away from him. A druid came forth and asked him for a spear, as it was forbidden to refuse the request of a druid, and so Cúchulainn agreed.
“Let none say that I want for generosity!” he said, and threw the spear clean through the druid, killing him on the spot. Lugaid Cú Roí, the Hound of the King, whose long rivalry with Cúchulainn lent strength to his arm, cast the spear back instantly – but shaking with wrath, he missed and instead killed Laeg the charioteer, king among horsemen, to Cúchulainn's great grief.
Another druid stepped forward and asked for a spear, saying that if he didn't get it he'd compose ballads and tales to mock the whole of Ulster for their miserly ways, but Cúchulainn
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