Craftily Fergus wrought upon Queen Meave that she should espouse his cause and lead an army into Ulster’s coasts, to win the kingdom back for him again. And Meave was no way sorry to make war, for Connaught and the North at all times were at strife, and frays and battle-raids were common between them. So with light heart Queen Meave sent heralds out and messengers through Connaught to collect her armed bands, bidding them meet her within three months’ space before her palace-fort of Cruachan. And in three months a goodly host was gathered there, and tents were pitched, and for awhile they tarried round the palace-courts, eating and drinking, so that with good heart and strength they might set forth to march towards Ulster’s borders.
Now, in the dark and dead of night before the break of day when all the host should start their forward march, Meave could not sleep; and stealthily she rose and bid them make her chariot ready, that she might seek a Druid whom she knew, and learn from him the prospects of the expedition and what should be the fate before her hosts.
Queen Meave and the Druid
Far in the depths of a wide-spreading wood the Druid dwelt. An old and reverend man was he, and far and wide men knew him for a prophet and a seer. The “Knowledge that enlightens” he possessed, which opened to his eyes the coming days and all the secret things the future held. Gravely he came out to meet the troubled Queen, and he from her chariot handed her, as proudly she drew up before his door.
“We have come to thee, O Druid and magician,” said the Queen, “to ask of thee the fate and fortune of this expedition against Ulster which we have now in hand, whether we shall return victorious or not.”
“Wait but awhile in patience,” said the aged man, “and I will read the future, if the gods allow.”
For two long hours Meave waited in the hut, while on the hearth the fire of peat burned low, and a strange dimness spread about the house as though a mist had risen between herself and the magician, who, on his palms performed his curious rites, and in a slow and solemn chant sang charms and incantations; by strange and magic arts known to his craft seeking the “Knowledge that enlightens.” And, at the last, when all was still, he rose to his full height, stretched out his arms, and called upon the gods of fire, and air, and wind, and light, to open up and lay before his gaze the future things that were in store for Meave and for her hosts.
Then he made total darkness in his hut, and ate a curious food, concocted by magicians; and when he had eaten, he fell into a sleep, his servant watching over him, his two palms laid upon his cheeks. Then in a minute, or two minutes, he uttered sounds, but like one talking in his sleep, and the servant bade Meave question him, for his sleep of inspiration was upon him. So Meave said: “In mine host this day are many who do part from their own people and their friends, from their country and their lands, from father and from mother. Now, if these all return not safe and sound, upon me will be the anger of their friends, and me they will upbraid. Tell me, then, will these return alive?”