The Death of Cu Chulainn

Queen Medb never forgot her defeat in the Cattle Raid, nor forgave the man who had held the ford against all her armies. For years she gathered the children of those Cu Chulainn had slain, training them in war and magic, waiting for her vengeance.

Chief among these were Lugaid, son of Cu Roi whom Cu Chulainn had betrayed and killed, and Erc, son of Cairpre, and the three daughters of Calatin, whom Cu Chulainn had slain along with their father and twenty-seven brothers. The daughters had studied sorcery in Alba and Babylon, and they hated the Hound of Ulster with a hatred beyond death.

When they were ready, they raised an army and marched on Ulster.

Cu Chulainn lived bound by sacred geasa, magical prohibitions that gave him power but demanded obedience. He could not eat dog meat, for the dog was his namesake animal. He could not pass a cooking-fire without eating what was offered. He could not refuse hospitality from a woman. He could not retreat from battle once begun.

The daughters of Calatin knew these geasa, and they wove illusions to trap him.

King Conchobar and the men of Ulster knew the danger. They tried to keep Cu Chulainn at Emain Macha, surrounded by women and poets who were to distract him while the army fought without him. But the daughters of Calatin raised visions of battles and burning, screams and slaughter, and Cu Chulainn's honor would not let him stay while others died.

"Better to fall in battle than to live in shame," Cu Chulainn said. "I will go out and meet them."

As Cu Chulainn drove toward the enemy with his charioteer Laeg, they passed three old crones cooking at a fire by the roadside. The women called out to him, offering food.

"What do you cook?" Cu Chulainn asked.

"Dog meat," they replied. "Will you share our meal, champion?"

Cu Chulainn's geasa trapped him. He could not eat dog meat, but he could not refuse hospitality from women, nor pass a cooking-fire without eating. Whatever he chose, he would break a taboo.

He took the meat with his left hand and ate it, and the strength went out of his left side forever.

The army of Medb's vengeance met Cu Chulainn on the plain of Muirthemne. The first cast of Lugaid's spear killed Laeg, the charioteer who had served Cu Chulainn since boyhood. The second cast killed the Grey of Macha, one of the magical horses that had pulled Cu Chulainn's chariot.

The third cast struck Cu Chulainn in the belly, and his guts spilled out.

Cu Chulainn looked around the battlefield and saw a pillar-stone nearby. "I would not die lying down," he said. "Grant me leave to bind myself to that stone, that I might die standing."

His enemies granted it, fearing some trick but too proud to refuse a dying man's wish.

Cu Chulainn bound himself to the stone with his own belt, holding his guts in with his shield. For three days he stood there, and none dared approach, for even in death the hero-light burned above his brow and the terror of his battle-rage kept them at bay.

The Grey of Macha, though dying, returned to defend his master's body, killing fifty men with his teeth and hooves.

At last the Morrigan, goddess of war, alighted on Cu Chulainn's shoulder in the form of a crow. This was the sign that his life had truly fled. Lugaid approached and cut off Cu Chulainn's head and right hand, the hand that had wielded the gae bolga and slain so many.

But as the blade fell, Cu Chulainn's sword dropped from his nerveless fingers and severed Lugaid's right hand in turn. The hero had his last revenge even in death.

Conall Cernach, Cu Chulainn's foster-brother, had been away from Ulster during the battle. When he returned and found the body, he tracked down the killers one by one. Lugaid, one-handed, could not properly bind his shield and was cut down. The daughters of Calatin were hunted and killed. The vengeance of Ulster did not end for a generation.

Cu Chulainn's head was ransomed back and buried with honor. They say his ghost appeared to King Conchobar one last time, driving his phantom chariot across the sky, singing of the glory that would never fade.

"The heroes pass," the ghost sang, "but their names endure. I was the Hound of Ulster, and I held the ford alone."