VII.
The Red Giant greeted them warmly. Never before had he met a man who was stronger than he, so that made him respect Dermot; but he respected him still more for his honesty, when he found that the hound was to be returned to him.
“Are you on another quest, or have you rescued your chief?” asked the giant.
“I am on a most difficult errand,” explained Dermot. “I must get the story of the Sorrowful Knight before I may see Finn MacCool.”
The Red Giant slapped his knee a resounding whack.
“You are right,” he said. “It is difficult! It would be impossible but for the fact that you have been fair with me. I once did a service for the Sorrowful Knight. He swore that nothing I should ever ask him would be refused. Tomorrow I shall go with you, and my request shall be in your interest.”
You may be sure that Dermot was glad he had not taken a thief’s advantage of the giant when he had had the opportunity. That night, with the small chief, he and the Red Giant spent the time eating, drinking and telling stories.
The journey to the land of the Sorrowful Knight, under the guidance of the Red Giant, was a short one. They found the castle set deep in a thick wood. No sound came from it. The branches of the trees drooped in sadness. Even the cattle grazing in the field seemed to crop the grass mournfully.
The guard at the gate wiped the tears from his eyes before he asked them the nature of their errand. When he learned that they wished to see the Sorrowful Knight, he led them through a quiet courtyard into a dark and dismal chamber in the heart of the castle.
At first Dermot could see nothing. When his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he saw that the room was draped in black, and that the furniture was the color of night. At the table in the center of the room sat a man, his head leaning on his hand, his elbow on the table. He appeared to be asleep, nor did he awaken when the three entered the room. He must have been at the table a long time. Where his elbow rested upon it, a deep groove had been worn, and into it, even in his sleep, the tears dropped steadily.
The Red Giant took him by the shoulder and spoke to him. The man straightened up slowly.
“Why do you come here to interrupt my grieving?” he asked.
“You promised many years ago that you would grant any request I would make,” said the Red Giant. “I have come to test your promise.”
The Sorrowful Knight sighed heavily. “What is your request?” he asked.
“You are to tell to Dermot of the Fenians the reason for your sorrow,” said the giant.
Once more the knight sighed, and the tears flowed more freely down his cheeks.
“I feared your request would be that,” he said. “Since I promised you on my honor, I must tell the story, but no other living man has heard it.”
The Sorrowful Knight had dinner served for his guests with a flickering candle for light. Most people would have had a small appetite in such gloomy surroundings, but Dermot and his friends were hungry enough to forget about it. They did full justice to the meal. When each had satisfied his hunger the knight began:
“It was twenty-one years ago that the sorrow came to me. I lived in this castle as happily as any man of the kingdom. Anyone would have been proud of the twelve handsome young men I called my sons. Every place I went my boys were with me.
“On the morning of the first of May it was our custom to hunt the deer together. Of course, we hunted on many days of the spring, but the May day was always our first deer hunt. On the morning of which I speak we started up a deer without horns and gave chase.
“It was a fleeter animal than any we had ever followed before. All day long we kept after her until toward evening we saw her disappear into a cave. We thought we had her trapped and followed swiftly. Imagine our surprise when we found ourselves not in a cave at all, but in a new country, at the gate of a large castle.
“The deer was nowhere in sight. We were too far from home to return that night, so we decided to ask for shelter from the lord of the castle. This was readily granted.
“We were taken into a big banquet hall. Along one side of the room, over huge fires, were twelve kettles of scalding water. In front of each kettle was the carcass of a wild boar. The master of the castle apologized for not having supper cooked and asked if any of us could prepare the boars for roasting. We said we could and set to work.
“But, though we dipped the animals in the scalding water, we could not remove a single bristle. The scalding seemed to make them stick more tightly. We could do nothing toward preparing the meat for supper.
“Then the master called in a small servant and told him to get the animals ready. This man lined up the twelve boars, blew upon them through a small tube, and instantly every bristle disappeared. I knew then that we were in the land of enchantment.
“We had all that we could eat, and after the meal the lord of the castle asked me if my sons would be willing to show their strength for our amusement. I told him they would. He ordered in twelve small men with a long chain and bade my sons pull it away from them. This seemed like an easy task. But when my sons took hold of the chain they could not move the small men an inch. Soon the small men pulled my sons toward them with a quick jerk and threw the slackened part about the necks of my boys. The instant the chain touched my sons they became twelve stones.”
At this point the tears of the Sorrowful Knight stopped his words. His listeners had to wait until he had mastered his grief before he could go on.
“When I saw my twelve noble sons thus changed before my eyes, I was filled with the great grief which has never left me. The lord of the castle had me thrown out into the night, and it was with difficulty that I found my way back to my home. Since then I never have left my castle.
“Each year, on May day, the deer comes to the gate and calls, ‘Here is the deer, but where are the hunters to follow it?’ Tomorrow she will come again, but no one here has heart for the chase.
“That, then, is my story. I ask you if any man could be happy with such a sorrow in his life?”
Dermot had listened with rising pity that soon turned into anger. He rose abruptly to his feet.
“I have but been sent to get your story, but no true Fenian is willing to let wickedness go unpunished. If you will go with me, there will be men to follow the deer tomorrow, and the sun shall not set before I have tried my strength against the enchantment of the lord of that castle.”
For the first time in twenty-one years the Sorrowful Knight no longer wept. He announced that he would go the next morning. The small chief and the Red Giant also promised to take part in the chase of the deer.
In the morning the deer came to the gate and called as was her custom, “Here is the deer, but where are the hunters to follow it?”
The four men had been waiting and now they set after her at full speed. All day long they followed her, and in the evening she approached a cave in the hillside.
“That is where she will disappear!” shouted the knight.
Dermot sped after her. Now, as you know, there was no one in Erin who could equal him in a race. He rapidly caught up with the deer and seized her by the hind leg, just as she reached the mouth of the cave. Instantly the deer disappeared, and in her place was a hideous old witch, with straggly gray hair and long crooked teeth. Dermot was so startled that he let go his hold. The witch ran screaming into the cave.
The men followed and came out at the gate of the castle just as the knight had done years before. When they knocked for admission, they were met by the master, who seemed greatly surprised to see the Sorrowful Knight.
“I thought you had enough of this place when you were here before,” he said.
Dermot did the answering. “He comes with me,” he said. “I could not have enough of your castle, because this is the first time I have ever been here.”
The master invited them into the room where waited the twelve kettles of water and the twelve boars.
“Have you a man among you who can prepare the supper?” asked the master.
“We have,” said Dermot. “And it is a long time since you had one as good. We have also a man who will get the meat.”
Dermot went out into the forest and brought in enough meat for the meal. He knew better than to try to prepare the enchanted boars. The ones he had killed, he dressed with his sword and soon had them cooked. The master made no comments, but ate with the others.
When the meal was over the lord of the castle addressed the knight.
“Have you a man among you who can show us a little action for our amusement?”
Once more Dermot did the answering. “He has. Send in the same twelve small men you used against his sons and we will show you enough action to satisfy you.”
The small men brought in the chain and passed one end to Dermot, who braced his feet against the rocks on the floor. The small men pulled as hard as they could, but not a link of slack chain could they get. All at once Dermot jerked them toward him, looped the chain over their necks and snapped off the twelve heads.
He then held out the end of the chain to the master and said, “Perhaps you would like to show us a little action yourself?”
The lord of the castle was seized with a fit of trembling at the thought of pulling against this terrible Fenian. He dropped to his knees and began to beg for his life.
“Spare me, and I will bring back the knight’s twelve sons,” he cried.
“That is all I could ask of you,” said Dermot.
The frightened enchanter took his rod and touched each of the twelve blocks of stone along the wall. Instantly the twelve sons of the knight were with them, as strong and hearty as ever.
You can imagine how the father felt over this change. He was no longer the Sorrowful Knight.
They wasted no time in leaving the enchanter’s palace and in returning to the castle of the man who was now the Glad Knight. From there Dermot and his friends went on to the home of the Red Giant, and then on to the king of the White Nation. Dermot was happy in being able to rescue the twelve young men, but he was far happier in the thought that he was now to see Finn MacCool.
IX.
On his return Dermot presented himself at the palace. Though the wicked old king was surprised to see him again, he endeavored not to show it.
“Well, have you the story of the Sorrowful Knight?” he asked.
“I have,” said Dermot. “Are you ready to hear it?”
Then he told the king the story, just as it had been told to him. I don’t believe that he mentioned the rescue of the twelve sons, because that was not in his sentence, and he was anxious to be through with the task and rescue Finn. At the end of the story he said:
“Now I have done what you asked. Do I get to see my chief?”
“You do not,” answered the king. “You shall not see him until you get me the story of the Lad of True Tales.”
Dermot’s anger flamed up. For the first time he saw that the king was not honest in his sentences, and that he was merely setting tasks to put him off, until he could find something that would do away with him forever.
“Oh, is that so?” he asked. “You should have spoken about it sooner. I have worn out all the leather I am going to use, tramping over the rocks of your country. I am going to let you find out how sharp some of those stones are.”
He picked up the treacherous king and tossed him out of the upper window of the palace to the rocks below. The king of the White Nation would never set another task for any man.
Then Dermot searched high and low for Finn. Everyone got out of his way, but still he could not find his chief. When he was almost in despair, he met an old woman.
“I will lead you to Finn,” she said. “It is I who have been caring for him.”
She did as she promised. Dermot was so happy on seeing Finn that he wanted to embrace him. Finn pushed him away.
Dermot’s feelings were hurt. “If any man had gone through what I have to rescue me, I would not seem ungrateful,” he said.
“It is not ingratitude,” said Finn. “My thumb tells me that we have little time to lose. The king’s daughter has gone off to enchant another victim. We must get away while she is gone.”
The two friends hastened to the shore, taking what food they could on the way. Then they raised the sails and pointed the boat toward Erin. Finn placed Dermot in the stern to watch, while he managed the boat. Every few minutes he would say, “Do you see anything?” Dermot would answer, “I see nothing but waves and sky.”
They were nearing the shores of Erin when Finn asked the question again.
“I see a bird that looks like an eagle,” said Dermot.
“Then we are lost,” cried Finn. “She is following.”
“Is there no way to release you?” asked Dermot.
“There is,” answered Finn, “but I am in honor bound not to tell you of it.”
The boat sped swiftly on, with the bird ever gaining. When near the land, the two champions sprang ashore, just as the bird turned the boat over and perched upon the hull. She saw them on the land and flew after them. The instant she struck the earth she became a woman. Rushing up to Finn she threw her arms around his neck.
“Come back with me and be my husband,” she begged. “You shall be the king of the White Nation.”
It made Dermot angry to see the actions of the woman who had caused them both so much trouble. He swung his sword against the hillside in anger. So great was the blow that a valley appeared where the sword struck. A great shower of dirt, far more than the seven shovelfuls, fell over Finn and the woman.
Finn put the enchantress from him. “I thank you, Dermot,” he said. “You have released me from her bonds.”
The woman gave a cry of rage, became an eagle once more and flew out over the ocean. Finn and Dermot hastened to join the Fenians.