CHAPTER
FIVE
King Conor's Secret Adviser
 
King Conor reached into
his desk and produced two silver goblets. He poured a
measure of mead into each and pushed one over towards the
jester as he raised his goblet.
I know my secrets are safe with you Farbeg dear friend,
and yours with me. That includes the greatest secret of
all, that you are my secret adviser and chief counsellor.
Indeed I often suspect you can tell what my problems are
before I confide them to you."
Farbeg, paused to blow his nose noisily in a bright
yellow handkerchief.
"Yes, I know you have two difficult decisions to
make right now. "Bricriú's invitation, for a start.
You know he will have at least one ulterior motive for
that; and you know what a consummate mischief-maker he
is."

Conor, reached his more
comfortable crown from a table nearby, pulled it onto his
head and regarded the jester shrewdly.
"Correct. I must accept or decline evil-tongued
Bricriú's invitation. Therein I am placed on the horns
of a whatchamacallit. If I accept, he will use the feast
to sow seeds of enmity among my knights and my courtiers.
If I refuse, he will have his revenge in some subtle
way."

Farbeg stood up on his
chair and stepped lightly up on to Conor's oaken desk.
"A shrewd analysis,
majestic Con. And my advice: better to fight him in
public at an appointed time than fall foul of a surprise
attack in the dark."
"And the second problem?"
He sat down on the desk and crossed his stumpy legs
tailor fashion on the desk as he answered gravely:
"The second problem is this, you have to decide soon
which of your three favourites is to receive the honour
of The Champion's Portion."
"And that is a problem because .... ?"
"It is a problem because your decision will make one
firm friend and two disgruntled knights, even, perhaps,
two undeclared enemies."
"How perspicacious you are my wee friend. Neither
must I forget that Cúchulainn is my foster-son and my
nephew. That raises monumental difficulties in the
context of vested interests and impartiality and charges
of nepotism. But of course you will go away and dream up
a solution."
"I have the solution now, dear Con."
"Then come on then, don't hold out on me. Give me
reason to sleep soundly tonight."
"First of all, be assured that Bricriú is much more
than the tawdry, shallow egotist a cursory analysis might
lead one to believe he is. He is that and much more. He
is immensely intelligent, resourceful and he wields power
over people which might well suggest that Bricriú is far
mightier than the sum of his parts."
Conor stared into the middle distance
"Are you saying that there may be magic
involved?"
"Call it that if you will. I prefer to say that he
is in possession of some arcane knowledge, skills not yet
universally available."

The King leaned forward in
his chair, one eye half closed.
"Tell me Farbeg, how and where could one come by
such revelatory data as these?"
The jester tapped the side of his nose and grinned
roguishly.
"Someone small enough and nimble enough to move
freely in and out of places not accessible to men of
stature, places such as under the dining tables of
Ulster's great halls."
Conor picked up a walnut and bounced it off the dwarf's
head.
"I'm glad you're on my side, you unmitigated
scoundrel! Now predict for me how this logic of
Bricriú's will work against me. I know full well that
the invitation to his lavish feast is only part of his
scheme to upstage me, to diminish and demoralise my
people."
The dwarf's face lit up with delight.
"Ah, I see you are aware that this is not his
scheme, that petty vanity is not his major motive. His
plan is to set your three invaluable champions and their
wives at each others' throats."
"How?"
"First of all he will dupe your three would-be
champions. His henchmen will go to each of the three
knights in turn with what purports to be a leak from
Bricriú's court to the effect that he is to be served
the Champion's Portion at Bricriú's feast. As you can
expect, the three men and their retinues will clash with
a ferocious argument in the dining hall that could well
lead to violence. Each champion will insist that the
honour is meant for him."
Conor threw off his crown and began, flapping his spread
hands as though flagging down a galloping horseman.
"Whoa there! Whoa! Rein in a minute, how can
Bricriú have thought up such an elaborate plan before
I've accepted his invitation to the feast? And by whose
authority will he adjudicate between my knights?"

Farbeg executed another
brief headstand on the desk. A back-flip landed him in a
hunkered position. Gesturing to the King he said softly:
"Just listen until I've finished.
"In the same fashion Bricriú will dupe the wives of
the three champions. Each will have heard through their
ladies-in-waiting grapevine that she is to be honoured as
foremost lady of Ulster at Bricriú's feast. Each lady
will believe that she must be the first to re-enter the
hall and when she does there will be a fanfare of
trumpets and an announcement that she has been judged
First Lady of Ulster. You can imagine what a spectacle
that will cause. Hell could not sustain the fury of three
women so ignominiously scorned."
The King leaned forward slowly, placed his elbows on the
desk, his hands under his jaws, and brought his face
close up to Farbeg's. but before he could speak, Farbeg
cut in:
"How does Bricriú know I will accept his
invitation?"
"He doesn't. You are going to send him a note of
acceptance first thing tomorrow."
"By whose authority will he adjudicate between the
three champions?"
"Yours. You will ask him to act as neutral
arbitrator because, Cúchulainn being your nephew and
your foster son there is a serious conflict of interests.
Right Con?"
Conor nodded slowly, his eyes burning with questions.
"How do you know about his plan to set the knights
and their wives at loggerheads?"
"That is the way Bricriú's mind works," said
Farbeg with a hint of exasperation.
The King, perplexed, shook his head.
"Why should I help Bricriú to cause division in my
own camp?"

Farbeg stretched his legs
and recrossed them.
"Bear with me Con, you can turn Bricriú's treachery
to your own advantage. After the feast you will have a
clearer assessment of the integrity and purity of motive
of your three champions and their ladies. They will
either have vindicated or condemned themselves, saving
you the anguish of doing it. They will have learned the
lesson that The Champion's Portion itself is not the goal
but rather what it symbolises, a heroic commitment to all
the knightly virtues. At the cost of a little public
embarrassment you will have, in effect, a whole new and
contrite court."
"But Bricriú's judgment .... "
"You will pre-empt his judgement by publicly
denouncing the shameful behaviour of your knights and
their ladies and by disqualifying them all. By so doing
you will have nullified Bricriú's judgement without any
breach of diplomacy and Bricriú will also have exposed
himself more publicly than ever before as the vindictive
and ambitious villain he is."
After a lengthy silence, Conor threw back his head and
laughed loudly.
"Oh, Farbeg my friend! What a king you would make
but, I do confess, I'm at a loss. What must I do
next?"
"If you accept his invitation without conditions
he'll smell a rat. So you will accept his invitation on
one special condition: that he and Gráinne, that foxy
wife of his, must not breathe the same air as the court
of Conor Mac Nessa, King of Ulster, during the
feast!"
"But will he not take offence? Won't the whole of
Erin learn how ungracious Conor Mac Nessa has been
towards the great Chieftain of Dunrodraige?"
"Bricriú will laugh at the gesture, thinking that
you think his potential for mischief has been
neutralised. Besides, Bricriú knows the price of
everything. He will willingly pay, even in the coin of
diminished esteem, to get his way."
Back at the Asylum in
Ossageel '''
Cúchulainn awoke to the
sound of strange music. When he opened his eyes he
thought he was still in close contact with the bulrushes
of his bed in the cavern. Instead, on drawing back his
head, he was looking at a dark green fabric with an
intricate floral pattern. On sitting up, one eye open, he
saw that he was in a small, low-slung, luxuriously padded
throne.

Laeg and Amtashtalee, and
a couple of dozen other men, were similarly accommodated.
He opened both eyes and surveyed his mysteriously
transformed surroundings more closely. Gone was the high
vault of the cavern. In its place was a smooth, white
ceiling with several rectangular panes of translucent
glass that emitted a ghostly white light. He saw that he
was in a large chamber with three tall windows along the
far side. The smooth, highly polished floor was paved
with bright quadrilaterals of light from the windows.

Through those windows he
could see a grassy space enclosed by tight rows of yew
trees; beside the trees was a woman with red hair and a
long white coat.
He tested the air like a deer or a hare, his nostrils
twitching delicately. There was a whole cocktail of alien
odours and scents. There was the faint, after-stink of
cooked vegetables competing with a sweet scent he could
not know was wax floor polish. As well as the miasma of
body gases usually present among a crowd of sleeping
human bodies there was another not unpleasant odour
competing valiantly with the others. A twentieth century
man could have told him it was disinfectant.
All along the walls of the chamber there were padded
thrones like his own, each holding a sprawled figure more
strangely garbed than he'd ever seen before. Although
they were all dressed in a colourful variety of striped
tunics and trews, they all wore the same blank, bemused
expression on deathly pale faces. Strangest of all these
strange characters was a tall, muscular man with a
battered face who rose from his place suddenly and began
to waltz around the polished wooden floor in time to the
music.

An enraptured, gap-toothed
smile fractured his chipped granite features. He was
dressed in a floor-length, scarlet garment, which
revealing most of his hairy chest, had no visible means
of support. As he danced he held his arms outstretched at
shoulder height, hands drooping from the wrists, his
scarred, shaven head swaying from side to side in time
with music that seemed to come out of the air.
When Cúchulainn stood up he felt momentarily dizzy, as
though the floor had lurched. His head throbbed slightly.
Before he could steady himself, the dancer smiled at him
and glided towards him, arms outstretched.
"Come, my dear," he said huskily, "let's
dance."
Not sure how to react, Cúchulainn held his hands out
defensively in front of him.
"Glory be! Our mystery man has arisen,
Alleluia!" exclaimed the dancer. "We thought
you were out for the full count. But now you are up and
ready for the next round. Come now, sweetheart, relax. Go
with the flow. Listen to the music. Dance."
The dancing man promptly took one of the Ulsterman's
hands and gently guided the other around his waist.
Deciding that the big man, he was as tall and as muscular
as himself, meant no harm, and that he was 'As go bráth
leis na sidheoga' (Away with the fairies), he tried to
dance in unison with him.
  
As they glided and
sometimes stumbled around the floor Cúchulainn noticed
that the music came from a small black box on a table in
the corner. It had dancing, winking coloured lights in
the front and two strange boxes on either side.
The recumbent, semicomatose men began to take a muted
interest in the dancing couple.

"I see your colour is
red," said the battered man. "Same as me. I
simply adore red dresses. I have red shoes too, with high
heels. I'll show you when we've finished dancing. I'm
wearing other nice red things too," he said,
fluttering his lashless eyelids. "I'll show you if
you like."
The dance was interrupted by a loud guffaw from Laeg,
seemingly more amused than amazed at his surroundings.
Cúchulainn, with ill-disguised petulance, broke free
from his partner and scowled. The big man recoiled, a
hurt expression on his punished face. Cúchulainn,
turning to Laeg, demanded:
"All right then, how would you have dealt with
him?"
Before Laeg could answer, Amtashtalee was on his feet and
walking towards the couple on the floor.
"Come now, we're all friends here."
Stepping between the two large men in red he took each
gently by the hand.
"Cúchulainn, meet my friend, and everybody's
friend, Ginger. His real name is Matt Rogers, former
Irish and European heavyweight champion. We call him
Ginger because .... well because his name is Rogers and
he loves to dance."
In response to Cúchulainn's uncomprehending stare, he
added:
"I'll have to explain that more fully, but some
other time. Now shake hands."
"And come out fighting," croaked one of the
onlookers with a snigger.
Everyone laughed loudly at that, except the mystified
Cúchulainn and Laeg.

The big man took
Cúchulainn's hand in a gentle grip and, smiling
toothlessly, pumped it up and down vigorously.
"Ginger," said Amtashtalee, continuing the
introductions, "this is Cúchulainn. And that man in
the yellow dress is his charioteer, Laeg."
"Yeah," said Ginger, soothingly, "you can
be anyone you like in this place. Nobody will laugh at
you. Here we have Adolf Hitler, Napoleon Bonaparte, Brian
Boru, Fionn Mac Cumhail, Oisín, Oliver Cromwell ....
"
Cúchulainn continuing absently to dance, in a lumbering
way, with the ecstatic Ginger. The old fighter, eyes
closed, lapsed into a state of reverie, muttering
incoherently, a fatuous grin on his scarred face.
"A dear lady came visiting us here one day," he
said, his eyes still closed, that beatific smirk still on
his scarred face. "Told me she was the President of
Ireland! She was so beautiful, so gentle and so charming
that I almost believed her."
Ginger gave a long, open-mouthed chortle before
continuing:
"Quick as a flash I told her I was a first cousin of
the Austro-Hungarian Emperor!"
Ginger broke into howls of tearful, snorting laughter,
showing off the gaps in his stumps of black teeth. They
had danced on in silence for another round of the room
when the boxer suddenly stopped, eyes wide open, his face
transformed momentarily by a transient blaze of
intelligence, due, perhaps, to a brief, adventitious
surge of blood to the damaged part of his punch-punished
brain. He fixed Cúchulainn with an arresting, imperious
gaze.
"I was lying, of course, but then, so was she."
Before Cúchulainn could think of a suitably neutral
response, Ginger added:
"So if truth were a quantifiable commodity my claim
to kinship with personages in high office was equally
true!"
While the Ulsterman was still puzzling over Ginger's
uncharacteristic profundity, the boxer closed his eyes,
smiled and resumed both his waltzing and his less than
coherent monologue.
Only half listening to his
ramblings and looking past him into the grounds,
Cúchulainn caught a fleeting glimpse of the woman in a
long white coat coming towards the window. As she came
into view again nearer this time, passing the second
window, she tossed her hair away from her face and looked
in towards him.

Cúchulainn started in
astonishment, pointing dumbly in the direction of the
third window in anticipation of seeing her again.
"That woman, Ginger, who is she?"
Following the pointing finger, Ginger turned his head
just in time to see the woman passing the third window,
leaning back against the wind, hair once more fluttering
around her face.
"Doctor Emer," said Ginger, smiling brightly,
"Emer Farrell. She's the nice doctor. We all love
her 'cos she's kind."
"Emer," repeated Cúchulainn, almost inaudibly.
"Emer Farrell, Farrell, why, Forghal. Forghal the
Wiley, of the Tuatha de Danaan is Emer's father!"
Ginger's eyes lit up and he gave Cúchulainn one of his
gap-toothed smiles.
"De Danaan! They're a fabulous Irish trad group.
Emer's Dad, is he the fiddle player? Or is he the one
that .... ?"
Cúchulainn shook Ginger by the shoulders.
"Why? How did she? What is she doing here?"
Ginger had opened his mouth to reply when Amtashtalee
placed a hand on the fighter's arm.
"Sorry to interrupt you Ginger, but Cúchulainn and
Laeg are in a great hurry to get home. Besides, I've got
to get them out of here before the morning medicine
trolley arrives."
"Oh, well, OK Cúchulainn and Laeg," said
Ginger agreeably, raising his hand shyly and wiggling his
fingers in a child's bye-bye gesture. "Hope to see
you soon again. Safe journey home."
Suddenly the door opened and a tall, sharp-featured,
authoritative looking man in a long white coat strode
through the door. He had receding red hair slicked down
with oil and severely back-combed. He paused to sweep the
room with a penetrating, imperious gaze. Ginger cowered
in the face of the withering glare and sank meekly into a
chair. Cúchulainn's mouth fell open and his eyes popped
in amazement as he studied the man.
"Laeg," he whispered, nudging the charioteer.
"It can't be! It's, it's .... "
"It's Bricriú!" gasped Laeg, "Bricriú of
the venomous tongue!"
"Bricriú, Taoiseach of Dún Rodhraighe," added
Cúchulainn, staring in disbelief."
Amtashtalee gave a knowing nod.
"Indeed, the
Chieftain of Dunrory."
"It's the Head Doctor, Doctor Brick," whispered
Ginger, "I see you've learned his nickname already.
We call him Brick Rua on account of his red hair."
The doctor caught Cúchulainn's eye, as far as
Cúchulainn was concerned it was no other than the
cynical Ulster chieftain. Brick Rua smiled, his eyebrows
raised in an expression of mock surprise. He strode
quickly across the room, his hand outstretched in
greeting.
Cúchulainn, by now had guessed the meaning of the
gesture, strangers, enemies or rivals took hold of each
others' weapon hands in a gesture of mutual distrust so
that there could be no sudden drawing of a dagger or a
sword. He took the doctor's hand and held it tightly.
"Can it really be you? What are you doing
here?"

Doctor Brick roughly
extricated his hand from Cúchulainn's grip with a
supercilious leer, tapping the side of his nose with his
forefinger and winking slyly.
"I was about to ask you the same question, but since
you are here and I am here, a word in your ear, brave
Cúchulainn: I have invited King Conor and all his court
to a feast in my new banqueting hall at Dún Rodhraighe
to celebrate Baal Teine. That, you realise, is
tonight!"
Cúchulainn, realised with alarm that he should be back
in Eamhain Macha in time for the observance of the feast.
"Bealtaine! I must get there at all costs, you must
help me .... "
Ignoring Cúchulainn's concern, Brick Rua went on:
"Not alone has King Conor accepted my invitation but
he has asked me to use the occasion to adjudicate,
arbitrate, if you like, and nominate the recipient of the
Champion's Portion."
Bricriú, or Brick Rua whichever he was, moved to
Cúchulainn's side and placed his arm around the
warrior's shoulders. Turning him gently they moved away
from the others. He continued to talk softly as the pair
paced slowly away from Ginger, Laeg and Amtashtalee.
"The said Champion's Portion which I shall
prepare," he said in his unctuous tone, "will
be much more than a miserly slice of roast pig. Oh, yes.
It will be the most lavish portion ever seen, a feast
sufficient to feed an army."
He turned his head, thrusting his narrow, bony face close
to Cúchulainn's.
"Be sure and be there, try to look surprised and
delighted on learning that the prize is yours. You should
waste no time in preparing your modest, self-effacing
acceptance speech. You know, you being only part of a
wonderful team; how you owe everything to your tutors.
All the usual platitudes."
Brick Rua withdrew his face, and hunching his shoulders,
raised an admonishing finger.
"This very moment, in your time-frame of course,
King Conor and his élite Red Branch Knights and their
retinues are already in procession to the feast."
Taking Cúchulainn's arm and placing his lips close to
his ear, he whispered.
"Beware of your friends, the knights Conal and
Laoghaire. They are hell-bent on thwarting each other,
and you no less, in their ruthless scramble for The
Champion's Portion. Be assertive. Assertiveness, that's
the key to success."
Cúchulainn was looking around frantically for Laeg. And
he needed Amtashtalee, his only hope of getting home in
time. In time?
"Now, you must take your special medicine to get
back to the real world," Doctor Brick whispered.

"Your medicinal mode
of transportation is, even as I speak, coming down the
corridor."
Before Cúchulainn could reply, Brick Rua gave him
another of his sardonic grins, accompanied by a sly wink.
Then, turning abruptly with a squeak of his rubber heels
on the polished floor, he retreated swiftly across the
room. Pausing for a moment, stroking his chin as though
struck by an important afterthought. Half turning, he
regarded Cúchulainn over his shoulder.
"Oh, about your speech, you will of course make some
suitably laudatory references to me, won't you?"
Then the door clicked shut behind his swishing white
coattails and the rapid squeak-squeak of rubber-soles
faded as he disappeared down the corridor. Ginger rose
and hurried to Cúchulainn. Placing his scarred lips
close to the Ulsterman's ear, he whispered.
"Watch out for him. He's a nasty piece of goods.
Needle-happy sod. Keeps us cock-eyed with shots and
pills. Evil-tongued trouble maker. On the other hand you
can be sure of oul' Amtashtalee there. He's a batty oul'
goat but he's a sound friend. He may be eccentric but
he's a clever man y'know. Used to be a Professor of
Celtic Studies. Nowadays," he added with a giggle,
"he's a Tuatha de Danaan Druid and a special
consultant to Ossageel. But as I said, you can be
anything you want to be in here."
Ginger's rocky face lit up, his small eyes, framed in
globs of scar tissue, glittered with innocent fun.
Cúchulainn kept silent, smiling approvingly at the
fighter. There was information on tap here. He wanted to
hear more that might enlighten him as to the nature of
his strange experience of the unnatural pink tunnel and
these odd people.
"So you are who you say you are," Ginger said
with a wink. "Right? You are Cúchulainn, great
warrior of the Red Branch. It was the Christian Brothers
that nurtured me ambition to be a fighter with their
tales of yourself and yer other man, Fionn Mac
Cumhaill."
Ginger gave a strangled chortle.
"No offence me oul' son," he croaked through
his suppressed laughter.
Seeing Cúchulainn did not seem to share his amusement,
Ginger's gaze shifted to the floor for a moment, his grin
dissolving. Coughing to hide his discomfort, he leaned
forward again and resumed whispering in Cúchulainn's
ear.
"Amtashtalee may be as crazy as the rest of us, but
I'll tell you one thing, he has that bitter oul' Head
Doctor well sussed out. We all think the Doc is crazier
than any of us. He's really the only dangerous man among
us. Thinks he's a powerful Ulster Chieftain. In his
better moods he tells us of his plans to become High King
of Ireland, then Emperor of Europe, and finally Monarch
of the whole world. Even our Adolf over there."

He nodded in the direction
of a morose little man, with a paintbrush moustache and a
dark, cowlick fringe, seated in a corner between the door
and a window.
"Even he's not nearly as power-hungry as oul'
Brick."
Then, abruptly, patting Cúchulainn gently on the cheek,
he hissed:
"I hear the pill wagon in the corridor, here they
come."

"You'd better get
goin' if you don't want to go on the same trip as the
rest of us."
Ginger winked again and shuffled back to his seat. Before
they could make their exit a tall, cadaverous,
middle-aged man plucked at Laeg's sleeve with large bony
fingers, eyebrows raised in astonishment.
"Legs?' he said in a hoarse whisper, "I thought
it was you! And be the hokey frost, it is you! Legs
Diamond!"
"I'm sure you must be mistaken," said Laeg,
politely.
"No, I don't think so. Legs Diamond wasn't your real
name of course. It was a nickname you had in Donegal
town."
Laeg frowned quizzically at the strange, corpselike man.
His large, dark, sunken eyes open wide, the pupils
glittering wetly and alarmingly dilated. The conviction
in his cracked voice filled Laeg with a niggling,
inexplicable unease. Yet something about the man provoked
his curiosity. Perhaps it was the way he pronounced
'Legs' as 'Laegs' the northern way.
"Laegs Diamond?" asked Laeg, by way of
encouraging the man.
"Aye, after the famous Chicago gangster, y'see. Not
that you were ever anything but a decent, hard-working
man of course. Your real name is, was, Legg. Jimmy Legg.
At school the other kids used to call you Peg-leg to
annoy you. In later years you used to station yourself
with your pony and trap in the Diamond in Donegal town,
offering to take visitors on a tour of local places of
interest. You always wore that scanty yalla kilt and the
greeny-blue cloak. That's why we used to call you 'Legs.'
Clever, eh? Legs Diamond. It was better than that other
name they gave you, Betty, wasn't it?"

The man nudged Laeg in the
ribs and looked down at his legs as though he shared some
embarrassing intelligence.
"Betty?" Prompted Laeg. "I don't seem to
recall .... "
"Sure, I understand. You'd rather forget that. It
was your legs again, y'see. You know, the fillum star
Betty Grable and her million dollar legs? Not really a
compliment to a fully accredited young male like
yourself."
Laeg was too busy trying to make sense of the bony man's
reminiscences to formulate a reply. But there was no
need. The man was talking again.
"Often wondered what became of you, just
disappeared. And what ever became of the pony and trap? I
remember you painted it gold to attract the
customers."
The man stopped talking and stared out of the window.
"That was all a wee while before I had to come
here." He added abstractedly.
The introspective digression seemed to act like a
post-hypnotic trigger, because his eyes suddenly went out
of focus and began to flit sightlessly from ceiling to
floor. Without another word he shuffled away, muttering
incoherently. Laeg stood staring open-mouthed after him
as he shuffled across the room to join the others by the
medicine trolley, what he'd heard them refer to as the
'Nirvana Express'.
A chorus of farewells brought Laeg out of his confused
reverie.

Amtashtalee hurried the
two Ulstermen to a door in the corner of the room
wrenched the door open and urgently ushered them into a
tiny room crowded with mops, brooms, bottles, jars and
buckets.
"We mustn't let those pill slingers see us."
The door closed behind them they were enveloped in almost
total darkness. They heard Amtashtalee pop the cork from
the silver flask.
"Quickly," he urged, "you must drink some
more of this."
"What diabolical ingredients are in that
stuff?" Cúchulainn demanded.
The old man thrusting the flask into the warrior's hand.
"If I told you that you might not want to drink
it."
"Then I'll not drink it this time," growled
Cúchulainn sulkily.
"But you must. We must. It's our only chance to ....
"
"Tell me one of the ingredients and I'll drink
it."
The old man sighed.
"All right then. I use mushrooms. Now, drink it
before we're dragged out of here and chemically
castrated."
"Tell me what you call it then," urged
Cúchulainn.
"Bottled Lightning?" Laeg commented, curling
his lips sourly.
Amtashtalee nodded vigorously.
"Bottled Lightning, you must drink, please!"
Each man in turn drank the
fiery liquid. Then, eyes closed tightly as it seared
their vitals, they felt themselves being pushed gently
through what felt like a rough, rocky crevice in the wall
of the broom cupboard.
When they opened their
eyes again they were back in the pink ante cavern. The
horse, his nosebag in place, was contentedly munching his
breakfast of stone-crushed oats. There was no trace of
Amtashtalee.
"Let's get out of this place, fast, we have little
time to make it to Bricriú's feast and I must claim The
Champion's Portion." said Cúchulainn through
clenched teeth.

Taking the horse by the
bridle he interrupted the animal's meal and, followed by
a bewildered Laeg, he made for the cleft that opened out
into the main tunnel.
"Cúchulainn," said Laeg in a frightened tone,
as he hurriedly harnessed the horse to the chariot,
"I saw him in there"
"You mean Bricriú?"

"No, no! I mean
HIM," he said pointing with a shaking finger to one
of the severed heads swinging from the chariot rail.

Has Cúchulainn
finally broken the curse and wrenched his ownself from
the asylum, back to ancient Ireland? Will he make it to
Bricriú's feast and if he does, will he find out about
the treachery afoot before it is too late? Log on every
Sunday for further chapters.
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