Lugh's Birth

In the time before the Sons of Mil had laid a foot on the shores of Erin, when the Tuatha de Dannan still warred against the Formorii for the soul of the land, there was a lad named Cain. A handsome lad he was, with hair brown as the earth he tilled. He was a farmer by trade, but the farm on which he was born had no need of him. So he set off in search of better prospects.  As  he walked along the roads, he kept a sharp eye out, for these were dangerous times and the Formori were known for their ambushes. But presently he was in better country, away from the sea, and the roads were wider. As he walked, he noted a white cow up ahead of him, with no one to lead it.

Suddenly, a man leapt over the hedge. Such a leap! And landed beside Cain.

“Have you seen a white cow?” asked the stranger.

“Sha, that I have. I’ve been following her.”

“Would that you would lead her.” Said the other. He introduced himself as Elcmar, and offered Cain the work of caring for the Glas, his wife’s pet cow, and look after the beast’s special needs.

“When you tend her, three things you must keep from; never get in her way. Never slow her down. And never sleep by day. For that Formorii swine Balor wants this cow badly, and will steal her soon as winking.”

Cain agreed, and for three times three years he kept his word. The Glas wandered the land, and gave milk to all without calving, for the cow held the wisdom of her kind. And Cain was proud. No Formorii threat came near him and his good spear.

There came a summer’s day that was more perfect than any other, and the breeze blew, and the Glas grazed contented. Cain sat and watched, and smiled…and slowly, slowly, his eyes closed. As his head nodded, the point of his spear pricked him and he woke. The field was empty. The Glas was gone.

When Cain, exhausted from searching, told Elcmar and his wife Boann, the man flew into a rage.

“Get that cow back, lazy sod, or I’ll drink your blood rather than her milk!”

There was only one place the cow would be; Balor’s Isle, called Tory Island in later years. Cloaking himself in all the stealth and lightness of his folk, he went.

On the isle he followed the tracks of the Glas, until he came to a tower tall and dark. There was a garden, and the Glas was in it. All around the garden were young women. Some milked, some gathered honey and some gardened. But Cain drew back, for these were Formorii girls, and while some were comely enough, with only a harelip or ears like a cow, others were truly horrific.

“This,” thought Cain, “must be the worst maiden’s camp in creation.”

And he looked up the tower, wondering how many ugly girls it could hold. His heart smote in his chest. At the highest window stood a vision; a girl with hair like red gold, with such beauty in her, but also such sadness. Cain had to meet her. Throwing off caution, he slipped his way up, and up, amd opened the door. She was there, a beauty for all eyes, but sadness enough to break a stone.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“In looking at you, I’m not sure I remember.”

The lady, Etain by name, was charmed by Cain, and so she hid him as a serving girl and kept him by her side. All day and into the night they talked. She told him that her father Balor had been told if she bore a child, it would be the one to kill him.

“And he trusted the prophecy.” She said bitterly, “So he put me here.”

Cain’s bile rose at the man who could treat a daughter so. To comfort the girl, he told her stories. He made her laugh, and her smile made his heart beat.

He stayed three days with Etain, and then it was time to take back the Glas. He gave the girl a long kiss. And three days later, Cain was back, using skills that Elcmar had taught him. He spent three weeks with her.

“I’m a child of Balor, my love.” She warned.

“I wouldn’t care if you were a child of the Morrigan herself.” He replied,  “I love you.”

The two Handfasted themselves in secret.

A month passed, and Etain was with child.

“My father will find out, and then he will kill us.” She said.

“He won’t touch a hair on you.” Cain said. “I’ll take you and the child away with me.

Nine months passed, ad Cain was Etain’s only handmaid. Cain prepared a boat and provisions. All was ready.

Deep in the night, Etain went into labor. It lasted through the dark, until just before dawn. As the child was born, Etain opened her eyes, and this is what she saw; a shaft of light, a gleam, a flying spear.

“Oh!” she cried, “We shall name him Lugh, for he will dispel the 

darkness!”