Long and long ago, the Tuatha de Dannan, the Shining People, were at war. For seven years they had fought back the Formori, the dark ones, more beast than men, and stopped them laying waste to the land. And for seven years, the Tuatha de Dannan had planned. Now it was their time to act. They had gathered together the four great treasures of their people. With these treasures, the Tuatha Dé Danann were ready to beat back the Formori once and for all, to end their evil on the land. Lugh Lamfadda, the brightest of the shining people, began to gather the Tuatha clans to oppose the Formorian army. Soon the Formori had found out their work. They rose like a wave to put down the Tuatha. The two armies agreed to meet on the field of Moytura.
On the night before the battle, the Tuatha de Dannan made camp and readied themselves for the fighting. Gobhinu their great smith checked and made ready the weapons. And the king of the Tuatha de Dannan, Nuada Argetlam, saw to his men. Moving from tent to tent, his silver corenet shining in his dark hair, Nuada buoyed spirits and gave better weapons to the young men. Then he entered a tent where a young man with hair like gold was just lifting his sword from among the maps laid on his bed.
“Put your sword down, Lugh. You will not fight tomorrow.”
Now Lugh was a brave man, and he grew angry at the words of his king. But Nuada held up a hand.
“Lugh, you are our best strategist and our greatest mage. I cannot afford to use you in the fray. You will stay in this tent, and as assurance you will have nine companions to guard you.”
Lugh argued and stormed, but his king had given an order.
In the morning, the Tuatha De Danann marched forth, and Lugh was left his nine companions. On the other side of the field, the Fomoire marched out of their encampment. To attack the Fomorian host that day was was to put your hand in a serpent's nest. At the head of their battalion marched Bres mac Elathan the traitor, Goll and Irgoll who had killed their father and eaten him, Omna and Bagna, sisters whose voices brought death. And the worst of them all was Balor of the Evil Eye, whose gaze brought death to all.
Sitting in his tent, Lugh heard the great cry as the battle began, and he tried not to think of his friends and kinsmen on the field. But his ears could not lock out the sound of the screams as warriors died, of the clash of armor and the singing of the lady Moriagan.
Lugh ground his teeth.
“Look out the tent and tell me how the fighting goes.”
One young man looked out of the tent. “Their fighting so close that their feet are near touching, Lugh.”
“But are we still holding?”
“We are.”
Spears clattered as runners carried them to the fighting men. The sound of rattling chariot wheels rattled on the ground.
“Look out the tent and tell me how the fighting goes.”
Another warrior looked out the tent.
“Oh, the battle’s keen and sharp. The spears are red up to the buts, and our well of healing is filled with wounded men.”
“But are we still holding?”
“Yes.”
The battle raged on, the sound of it screaming through the air. And then there was a scream and a roar. Lugh jumped to his feet.
“Look out the tent and tell me how the fighting goes.”
A young warrior looked out the tent, and turned back white faced.
“Oh Lugh, Balor has opened his eye! Our men are falling!”
Lugh’s hands curled into fists.
“And I will not sit while my kin fall.”
Quick as a flash, he became a hare, and slipped out from under the tent flap, leaving the nine guards calling after him. He changed to his own form on the run, leaping into a waiting chariot. He rode into a battle with a charioteer’s weapons; a spear, a bow and a sling. What he saw was terrible. Blood soaked the grass. Formori creatures ate from the bodies of the felled. The Tuatha men were few and far between. And here and there great circles of men lay groaning and dying. Wherever Balor had been.
Lugh rode on. His arrows flew like sunbeams into the shadows, until they were gone. His spear flashed like lightning.
“Tuatha de Dannan! To me!!!” he called. The men came together behind his chariot.
The Tuatha swept forward once more. Through the melee, Lugh rode, striking like lightning in all directions. He struck at every enemy, but his eyes were searching for the greatest foe.
And there, on the brow of the hill, he saw Balor with his aids. Two of them used sticks to raise the great eyelid of his one eye. Before him, men fell dead.
A wheel of the chariot was speared and cracked. Lugh cut the horses loose and ran on. His spear cut and skewered. He had nearly reached the foot of the hill, when his spear shaft snapped. But Lugh fought on, entering the empty circle beneath the hill. He was facing Balor.
“Hi!” he called, “Fat old man! There’s been enough of you on this field!!”
A rumble of laughter came from the thing on the hill.
“And who are you?” the vile creature asked.
“A man who does not fear you.” Lugh replied.
Balor laughed again "Lift up my eyelid, lads." He said, "So I may see the talkative fellow who is conversing with me." The lid was raised from Balor's eye. And that was when Lugh cast a stone from his sling. The stone flew so strongly that Balor’s eye was pushed through Balor’s brain and out the back of its skull. Now it was his own host that the dead eye looked upon, and their lines were falling as hundreds of Formori died. In that moment, the battle broke.
“Tuatha de Dannan!” Nuada called out, “Let’s have an end to it!”
And the Tuatha swept forward like a wave of clean water, and the Formorii were driven back and out of the land of Erin.
