The Hound of Culaain

Foreword: Apologies to any student of Irish History as I have taken more than one Gaelic legend and mashed them together to get what I wanted the plot to be. Some of what you read is based on ancient stories and some come from my head. The settings are real enough and a quick look at the map of Ireland will give you the locations. If you want to know which is which, then I hope you enjoy the research, otherwise hope you enjoy the tale.

 

Acknowledgement: The song referred to in the early part of the story is called the "Wolves of Ossory" by Barry Barnes and can be found on YouTube.

 

The poem is mine.

 

*****

 

 

"Gather round children, draw close to the fire and let me tell you of a legend from our ancestors." The crowd groaned in mock disappointment as the old woman spoke, as they had heard her tales every year at the Newry Carnival.

 

No one really knew why she appeared every year as all she seemed to do was tell tales that would frighten the children. She would recount the same old legends of ancient warriors and their tales of heroic battles of good against evil. She always ended with the same song though she would change some of the words ever so slightly.

 

A couple of times she had been challenged as to why she played that song as everyone knew that Ossory was in the South of Ireland but she would dismiss them with a curse muttering about how the hounds of the North drove them South.

 

The words to the song ran

 

"Son I've got to save a soul tonight,

yes I'm afraid but I've just got to put this right

for even a man who says his prayers by night,

can become a wolf when the wolfbain blooms and the moon is full and bright.

 

Instead, she would twist the word wolf to wolfhound and add blood moon instead of just moon, and when she got to the verse that ran

 

I can't find you or your clan,

I want to help you if I can,

are you a beast or will you be a man someday?..."

 

She would always add... 'my sweet child.'

 

Sensing she may be losing the crowd she shushed them with a hissed curse as she went on.

 

"This is not the tale of Scáthach who instructed CuChalian in warrior skills. Nor is it the story of Aife who fought CuChalian, and after losing to him, was forced into bearing him a son." The old woman paused and muttered to herself, then spat on the fire before she continued, "It is not even the story of Neasa, who was forced into marriage by that cursed monk Cathbad. Yes, the very same Neasa who later became the mother to our founding father Conchobhar."

 

The crowd had quietened a little at the mention of their founding father, a name they knew rather than the ones of myths and legends.

 

The old woman tried to draw herself upright but failed as her back wouldn't straighten, but despite the pain, she said firmly. "This is the story of Fionna as a child and how she learnt at the knee of Liath Luachra. Now Liath was a true warrior princess who ruled these forests along with her companion Anluan, the first hound of Culaain."

 

Although she had called the gathered throng 'children' most of them, to her, were of warrior age, though perhaps to her advanced years they were just children. Some were spellbound as not only was this a story they had not heard before, but the old crone had referred to Fionn as a female, yet legend had it Fionn was a boy.

 

Sensing she had her audience's attention back she lowered her voice to make them strain forward to hear her every word.

 

"Hah, I see that look on your faces, surely Fionn was a boy I hear you say and you have called her Fionna, the woman must be mad," The old woman snorted which turned into a cough. Once she had stopped spluttering she went on, "This is the story of Fionn's grandmother, how she met and married her true love. The tale of how she gave birth to Fionn's mother Muirne who later bore her son Delmne who became the one we know as Fionn mac Cumhaill."

 

The gathered group in the corner of the fairground fell silent as the old woman went on.

 

"But first we must travel back in time. Back to before the English came and captured our lands, even back to before the time when the Vikings first started to raid. Back to the middle of the seventh century when we ruled ourselves, even back then there was a conflict between the North and the South. This was the time when men who became wolves first started to appear and crept up from the South like a plague. It was here the resistance started, it was here that the hound to fight the wolves was born of a demoness and a werewolf."

 

She went on waving her hands around, her voice taking on an almost melodic tone that seemed to belie her years.

 

"We must transport ourselves to Silent Valley that back then split the great forest that stretched from the coast at Ballymartin to where Rostrevor Forest ends today. Through those dark depths, every traveller who landed at Greencastle on the coast had to cross to travel through the Mourne mountains to reach Castlewellan. It's in those gloomy dense depths where robbers and thieves lurked preying on travellers but also where legend has it where creatures far worse had started to invade... that is where our story begins..."

 

*****

 

The slight child was sobbing with fear and desperation as she tried to lift the heavy sword she had picked up from her father's inert body. Trying to avert her gaze from his ruined face she turned slowly, the point of the sword dragging in the dirt as the two men circled her. Her head twisted around as she attempted to keep each one in her sight at the same time, a task she realised was hopeless.

 

You might as well give in wee missy," snarled one of the men who drooled as he watched her movements with beady eyes waiting for his partner to get behind the girl so they could take her in a pincer movement. Their plans involved capturing her alive, though it was unlikely she would live the day out after they had finished with her.

 

"If you entertain us well, we may even let you live," leered the other, a brute of a man whose stench filled the wooded glade. "After all, I am sure your young pussy is still untouched and will be tight around my cock, unlike your mother's." As he spoke, he indicated with his head towards an older woman who was being fucked by a man a few yards away. Her cries had long been silenced, though the man grunting as he thrust into her didn't seem to care that she was already dead.

 

"Leave me alone you bastards," the girl sobbed knowing that perhaps her final moments had come. "Leave me alone or may Liath Luachra take your souls." The curse to invoke the ancient Gaelic warrior witch was delivered with such strength and passion it almost denied her weakened state.

 

The two men threw back their heads and roared with laughter as one spat out, "You think to frighten us with your tales of a legend you stupid child. Everyone knows Liath Luachra is just a made-up ghost story to frighten children and keep them from this forest."

 

The other man snorted with derision as he said, "I spit on your Liath Luachra. In fact, if she was here I would fuck her, she would probably like a nice portion of cock." The man cupped his genitalia and wiggled his hand to emphasise his point.

 

Those were the last words he uttered on this earth as a sword point appeared out of his mouth having been driven with force through the back of his skull. The young girl dropped the sword she was trying to lift and tried to stifle a scream while the other man just looked on in shock as his partner crumpled to the floor dead.

 

"Did someone call my name?" said a voice that seemed to twinkle in the moonlight as a pale woman appeared in the gloom holding a sword that dripped blood from its point to the grass below. Her ice blonde hair was pulled back from her face into a tight french plait. Her high cheekbones gave her face a regal look and her two glittering blue eyes on either side of her button nose seemed to twinkle like jewels. Her face seemed to glimmer in the moonlight and with a shrug, she divested herself of the heavy cloak around her shoulders to reveal an almost naked body with bindings around her breasts and nether regions, but very little else.

 

The woman looked at the young girl and smiled, her pearly white teeth glowing in her mouth, "And who might you be young girl?" she said in a kindly voice.

 

"Fionna," stammered the girl, her voice close to breaking as she looked deep into the pools of sapphire blue that regarded her coldly as if appraising her soul.

 

"Well I am...," but before the woman could reply the man from the other side had jerked himself from his shock and cut across her words.

 

"Your name doesn't matter bitch as you are about to die," he snarled as he raised his sword and charged across the clearing with murderous intent.

 

"How fucking rude," the woman laughed and winked at Fionna before she moved to face the man in a fluid motion. Fionna watched in awe as the woman didn't cease in her movement, nor did she turn away from the charge, instead she seemed to almost flow under the clumsy sword stroke and with a flick of her wrist opened the man's throat sending blood spurting in a red geyser. The man stumbled to a halt, clasped his hands to the severed arteries as he collapsed to his knees before falling flat on his face.

 

The third man having heard the commotion turned away from Fionna's mother, his cock still hanging from his coverings as he picked up his sword and swung it through the air menacingly. Covering the ground in the blink of an eye the strange woman moved like a striking dart in and out of range. The man dropped his sword and clutched his hands to his groin as his severed penis fell to the ground with a meaty thump. Blood gushed through his fingers as he curled in a ball whimpering as he tried to stem the flow.

 

The woman raised her eyebrow at Fionna as she said, "My name by the way is..." then she paused as she considered her response before continuing, "Actually my real name doesn't matter... for now... so you can call me Sheela." Then as she moved away from the whimpering man cupping his genitals as if he could stop the seeping of blood. Sheela looked at Fionna as she said, "The life of this piece of dirt is yours, do as you wish."

 

Fionna just stood shivering, rooted to the spot with fear as her eyes flicked between the inert bodies of her parents. Her brain wanted to propel her across the clearing and finish the man but the thought of taking a life seemed evil to her.

 

The woman sighed almost in resigned amusement, "One of the good ones I see," and with that moved across the clearing, lifting the sword and plunging it into the body of the man who gurgled once before he died.

 

Fionna staggered a few steps towards the woman but as she moved, her path was blocked by a huge shaggy beast with eyes that glowed like coals and pearls of slaver that dripped from its jaws. It stood stock still, panting as it eyed her with what she feared was a look that meant he was about to devour her and all that could emerge from her mouth was a tiny squeak of fear.

 

Sheela spun around and spying the beast roared with laughter, "So there you are you lazy fat hound, nice of you to turn up eventually." Then seeing the look of petrified fear on Fionna's face she smiled as she said, "Fionna meet Anluan, the hound of Culaain."

That was a preview of The Hound of Culaain. To read the rest purchase the book.

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