#MythologyMonday #Celtic: `Cuchulain said to Laeg, "let you follow their track now, and count them, and see what number of the men of Ireland are come over the border." Laeg did this, and he came back and told their number, as he had counted them. "There is a mistake in your counting," said #Cuchulain. "I will count them myself this time." Then he told their number. "It is with yourself the mistake is, Cuchulain," said Laeg. "It is not," he said, "but there are eighteen divisions have passed the border, but the eighteenth is broken up and distributed among the others, so that no sure reckoning can be made of it."
This, now, was one of the three best estimates ever made in Ireland, and the other two were made by Lugh of the Long Hand, and by Angus at Brugh na Boinne.`
Source: Cuchulain of Muirthemne by Lady Gregory

#MythologyMonday #Celtic: `All alone, without a single friend, #Cuchulain, the king of Erin's mighty heroes lay, dying upon the plain. …But the Grey of Macha, the King of Erin's steeds, found him where he stood, and came up, dragging the spear that still held in his wound; and it laid its head upon #Cuchulain's breast, weeping great dropping tears of dusky blood. And all about his shoulders hovered carrion birds, yet still the host dared not venture nigh, for the hero's light shone from his forehead, and they knew not whether he were alive or dead.`
Source: Cuchulain, The Hound of Ulster, by Eleanor Hull; Illustrated by Stephen Reid
Here’s the backstory: https://hear-me.social/@NeuKelte/116279693502621146

#MythologyMonday #Celtic: `At the third time, the Wild Women-Goblins of the Blast, who watched the fight, screaming above the slain, swooped down. Into the hands of Luga and young Ere, but late ascended Tara's royal seat, and into the dread hand of dark Curoi, they placed the venomous spears of magic might brought out of fairy-land. "The time is come," said they ; "take these and strike; with each of these three spears a king shall fall."
Together those three foes drew near, and first Curoi threw his weapon, aiming it at #Cuchulain. But from his mantle once again it swerved, missing its mark. But glancing off from him, it pierced the Grey of Macha, pinning the gallant creature to the ground. Cuchulain, when he saw his steed transfixed, without a thought for his own safety, bounded from his chariot, and stooped to draw the weapon from the wound; but for all he tugged and pulled, he could not get it out.`
Source: Gods and Fighting Men by Lady Gregory - Project Gutenberg eBook
Here’s the backstory: https://hear-me.social/@NeuKelte/116279350996926587

#MythologyMonday #Celtic: `Cuchulain’s chariot-steeds, like horses god-possessed, trampled their men to death; the fire breathing from their nostrils consumed all who ventured near. Thus through the hosts from side to side #Cuchulain urged his steeds, and all his way was heaped and piled with dead. Twice seemed it that the victory was his, but at the last, the warriors rallied and held him back.`
Source: Gods and Fighting Men by Lady Gregory
Here’s the backstory: https://hear-me.social/@NeuKelte/116278989557097370

#MythologyMonday #Celtic: `When #Cuchulain saw his chariot standing ready for him, and Laeg therein awaiting him, and the noble steeds pawing the ground, the phantoms of his brain passed away from him, and his warrior strength and joyousness of mind came back, and he donned his armour with good-will and gladness, and made to spring into the chariot. But for the first time since the day when they rose out of the magic lake, the steeds obeyed not his hand, but started from him and turned the chariot round, evading him. And when Laeg drew them back, and Cuchulain prepared to spring again into the chariot, they fled away before him. "How now, how now is this, good steeds?" said Laeg ; "full oft before ye two came bounding at your master's call, nor ever turned away. Ill deed is this of thine, for never upon any former day did he and I need help from you as now we need it. Presage of evil is this freak of thine!" This when the Grey of Macha heard he stood quite still, the Black Steed by his side, and they let Cuchulain mount into the chariot; but even as he sprang to take his seat, his weapons all fell down about his feet; to him a grim foreshadowing of ill. He saw, moreover, that from the horses' eyes and down their cheeks coursed tears of dusky blood.`
Source: Gods and Fighting Men by Lady Gregory - Project Gutenberg eBook
Here’s the backstory: https://hear-me.social/@NeuKelte/116278634286581439

#MythologyMonday #Celtic: `Gloomily and sadly #Cuchulain sat down, nor would he play or listen to the music of the bards, or hold sweet converse with the women, but all that night, till break of day, he tried and proved his weapons, and his spears and sword he polished lovingly, and he sent Laeg out to catch his chariot-steeds and bring them to the green beside the house. And his heart revived within him when he heard without the neigh of the Grey of Macha and the Black Steed of the Glen.`
Source: Gods and Fighting Men by Lady Gregory - Project Gutenberg eBook
Here’s the backstory: https://hear-me.social/@NeuKelte/114138279829683835

#BookologyThursday #Celtic: `For Emer’s sake and theirs #Cuchulain went with her and his friends to the lightsome summer palace, and sat down with the poets and artists and the women-folk to listen to sweet beguiling music and tales of ancient deeds to while away the time.
From that hidden forest glen the sound of joyous revelry and the high, shrill voice of women’s laughter, and the cheerful noise of a great company keeping festival together could be heard.`
Source: Cuchulain, the Hound of Ulster, by Eleanor Hull

#BookologyThursday #Celtic: `The friends of #Cuchulain, and Emer, his dear wife, had taken the hero away with them from his own home at Dun Dalgan to a secret glen in Ulster, that is called the Glen of the Deaf, because no sound of war or tumult reached it, where was a pleasant summer palace retired from mankind. There they entertained him with sweet music and pleasant tales and games of chess, …`
Source: Cuchulain, the Hound of Ulster, by Eleanor Hull

#BookologyThursday #Celtic: "Tell me, O Ferdia, how Shadow herself crosses the bridge when she comes to teach you feats," said #Cuchulain. "Only by two leaps can that bridge be crossed," they all reply; "that is, one leap into the very centre of the bridge, and one upon the firm ground beyond; but if the leap is missed, it is likely that the passer-by will fall into the gulf below, and woe to him if he should fall." Then Cuchulain looked at the bridge and he looked at the foaming gorge below, and at the open-mouthed monsters in the tossing waves, and he waited awhile until his strength was returned. But as evening fell he rose, and gathering all his forces together, he leaped upon the bridge. Three times he tried to cross it, and three times it flung him again upon the bank, so that he fell upon his back; and the young men jeered at him, because he tried to cross the bridge without Scáth's help. Then Cuehulain grew mad with anger, and he leaped at one bound upon the very centre and ridge of the bridge. Here he rested a moment, and then he leaped again, and he gained the firm ground on the further side, and he strode straight up to the fort of Shadow, and struck three thunderous knocks upon the door.
"Truly," said Scáth, "this must be someone who has achieved valour somewhere else," and she sent Uthach the Fearful, her daughter, to bring him in, and welcome him to the fort.
For a year and a day he remained with Scáth, and learned all that she could teach him, and he became the most renowned warrior of his time, or of any other time.`
Source: Cuchulain, The Hound of Ulster, by Eleanor Hull; Illustrated by Stephen Reid

#BookologyThursday #Celtic: `Messengers and envoys were sent from Medb and Ailill to Ferdiad. #Ferdiad denied them their will, and dismissed and sent back the messengers, and he went not with them, for he knew wherefore they would have him, to fight and combat with his friend, with his comrade and foster-brother, #Cuchulain.
Then did Medb despatch the druids and the poets of the camp, the lampoonists and hard-attackers, for Ferdiad, to the end that they might make three satires to stay him and three scoffing speeches against him, to mock at him and revile and disgrace him, that they might raise three blisters on his face, Blame, Blemish and Disgrace, that he might not find a place in the world to lay his head, if he came not with them to the tent of Medb and Ailill on the foray.
Ferdiad came with them for the sake of his own honour and for fear of their bringing shame on him, forasmuch as he deemed it better to fall by the shafts of valour and bravery and skill, than to fall by the shafts of satire, abuse and reproach.`
Source: Táin Bó Cúalnge, The Ancient Irish Epic Tale_Project Gutenberg
Here`s the backstory: https://hear-me.social/@NeuKelte/115622170522393404