Land of the Fae and Fauna (Tales of Eiru Book 2)

Book summary

In a land torn apart by the fall of its heroes, Medb flees a dangerous betrothal to reclaim her birthright in Connacht. Haunted by her past, she faces a reckoning that will reshape her world. Land of the Fae and Fauna is a gripping historical fantasy set in Ireland’s late Iron Age.

Excerpt from Land of the Fae and Fauna (Tales of Eiru Book 2)

1 - First Samhain of the Fall

Medb pulls her head out from under her blankets, face groggy. She emerges from a deep sleep. Her dreams are a foggy memory as the real world takes grip. For a moment she questions if she was still in dreamland as the sounds around her had blended into her mind as she slept. She crawls from her bed, wearing a baggy cotton garment. Her long blond hair extends down to her chest, covering her newly acquired bulge, something she hasn’t climatized to yet, forever fated to abstain from her favourite sleeping position for comfort or fear of bursting her newly acquired traits of womanhood. To her, it's as if overnight she gained two bumps, but to her family, particularly her father, the transition has been slow enough to go somewhat unnoticed. The thought lingers as she glances towards her sheets for fear of her first bleed. It's a bittersweet experience for a girl her age, an emblem of finally growing up, but a painful reminder of her inevitable destiny of which her father will write. He loves her and she idolised him, but the roles of king and princess rip these bonds apart. She knows coming of age is inevitable.

Her infant brother and younger sister are already perked up, observing the commotion outside through a tiny square window in the wooden wall. “What’s going on?” Medb asks, stretching as she yawns. Her infant brother, Aiden, barely able to stick a sentence together, mumbles enough sounds for Medb to figure that the courtyard outside is flooded with farm animals being shunted into their assigned pens. Medb rolls her eyes. “Get ready for the stench of shit and piss until Imbolc’s Day,” she teases as she tickles her little brother. He giggles and shouts.

“Not a very lady-like tongue, our Medb,” Eithne sighs sarcastically. “Do I too dislike the smell.” Eithne always tries to be more ‘grand’ than her tomboy older sister who makes little effort to be ladylike despite nature giving her every advantage in the eyes of Eithne.

“Ze nanams safe fom ghosts.” Aiden mashes his words, trying his best to communicate at a level like his siblings. Eithne repeats his sentence in proper words; “Yes, we have to protect all the animals from the big bad spirits that go boo in the long dark nights.”

“Aiden’s going to find a goat in his bed tonight,” Medb teases affectionately as Aidan's stare turns from horror to giggles, his ability to decipher satire developing with each passing day. He may be an infant, but he’s quickly become streetwise to his sister's pranks.

The cries of animals become louder as they adjust to the confinements of their forced hibernation.

Cattle and sheep are crammed into one area while the highly valued horses, the Draft and Hobby, are placed into their separate thatched holdings. Already climatized to indoor comforts, they certainly have the better deal, even as far as enjoying a higher standard than some humans. The horse's quarters are second only to the highest-ranking members of Cruachan, the court of the human realm Kingdom of Connacht. But it is fitting for such a valuable resource, for the Hobby could navigate through the rough Eiru landscape, making it perfect for hunting and warfare. The Draft was for farming and transport. Both earned their keep. Healthy beasts made for a healthy kingdom. Their living arrangements were envied by many a human, who often chose to sleep among them for warmth. Do it might also have been the convenience next door to the great hall, where many would fill their long nights drinking and feasting, something only going to increase from today, the last of the lighter side of the year, the final day of harvest.

“Ah, Samhain, I can’t wait for the bonfires, the music – oh no, wait, the games… yes, games are the best. Oh my, I almost forgot… the wedding.” Eithne, giddy, hops in front of her siblings as they exit the bedroom. Medb too is restless, but for different reasons.

“Or maybe the spirits will haunt the shit out of us all.” Medb sighs.

“Nonsense… when have you ever seen a ghost?”

“Everyone is on edge this year… somethin’ ‘sup.”

“Oh, our Medb, you’re ever so cynical… everything is perfectly normal.”

Wandering into the great hall for breakfast, they find themselves alone. Plates are abandoned, and as they exit through the main archway they find a deserted courtyard absence of even the dogs. All that remains are the last of the fruits and vegetables gathered from the fields and orchids. A distinct division among the lot: two groups, a larger stockpile ready for winter storage and a smaller batch for the night's ‘shindig’.

Medb turns to her muted sibling. “You were saying?”

There is an eeriness to the morning. The subtle behaviours common for a Samhain Eve just didn’t feel right. As the harsh breeze veers, they hear dogs barking and murmuring coming from behind the gates. It fades as the wind changes direction again. A large gathering has formed at the palace entrance surrounding the king and a stranger on horseback. The siblings dash towards the group, and as they get closer, murmurs become words, words of fury loudening across the commotion of dogs barking. “Outrageous!”

“Scandalous…. You're a disgrace so you are!”

“Go back ta ‘Teamhair’, yea bollox!”

The Hobby horse supporting the well-dressed messenger becomes agitated by the aggression in their direction… Their only defence from an angry mob is Medb’s father, King Eochu, who desperately tries to keep the peace. “People… I agree, but let's not heckle the messenger,” he begs, waving his arms in the air.

“We can’t afford this…” several scream.

“It’s their fault… they started that bloody war.”

Medb pushes her way through the crowd, but it becomes too dense to penetrate so she retreats.

“Medb!” Eithne shouts from the safety of her mom's embrace, Aiden in her arms.

“What’s going on?” Medb demands.

“The high king is demanding more taxes,” barks a grumpy old woman. “Those feckers fucked up the whole thing, now we’re expected to pay for it.”

“Tell… the King of Kings… Connacht has paid her dues,” King Eochu now barks at the messenger firmly. “My people will not suffer for the mistakes of his dead father.”

“Eiru needs defending, man,” cries the messenger arrogantly.

“You bloody fools slaughter Eiru’s defence.”

“LONG LIVE FINN AND HIS FIANNA!” scream the crowd, seconded with cheers.

“Those thugs were a liability… they need quashing,” the messenger shouts sheepishly.

“Yet happily used as mercenaries by King Uilliam’s dynasty for years."

“You must comply.” The messenger sounded desperate. “Your safety—”

“OUR safety… Yous didn’t give two shits about our safety when Daddy goes on a vengeance rampage… killing Eiru’s best defence against enemies foreign and fae. Gets himself slaughtered AND NOW Uilliam expects us to pay more taxes… for what… fund more mercenaries.”

“I’m just saying… don’t expect us to come to your rescue when the fae plays havoc this winter.”

“We never relied upon the help of others, especially from your lot… now get the fuck off my land.”

The messenger nods sullenly then gallops off into the distance.

King Eochu turns to his brother Niall; they both share charming and handsome looks, be it Eochu less boyish than his younger sibling. “Rally our allies… I want to know their thinking.”

Niall hesitantly asks what message should be sent.

“If willing… And only if… We go to war and overthrow that bollox.”

Niall remains hesitant, questioning how urgent his task is.

“Don’t worry, dear bother, your wedding will go ahead as planned, go get yourself ready.”

*

Sunset, and both flora and fauna are safely packed away behind closed walls for the long, miserable Eiru winter. With the last of the harvest chores completed, Niall and Eili’s matrimony can begin unsullied by the morning's drama. A large gathering assembles around an ancient monument close to the court, nestled amidst rolling hills and dense forests. The crisp autumn air is warmed by the sun's rays casting a golden glow upon the crowd. Niall and Eili stand in the heart of the weathered stone circle next to Cathbad, an elderly bearded man dressed in a threadbare white cloak adorned with intricate Celtic symbols, the kingdom's Druid.

Weddings were Cathbad’s favourite ritual, and his eyes gleam with ancestral wisdom. "We gather here on this sacred eve of Samhain, when the veil between worlds is thinnest," his words laced with reverence, "to witness the union of Niall and Eili, who honour the eternal dance of love and the turning of the wheel.”

As Cathbad continues to ramble with his ritualistic words, Medb observes the gathering, the sounding scape, and allows the gentle breeze to flow through her hands. Like Cathbad she too loves weddings, but she never lets on to any one of this truth. She listens to the rustles of the remaining dry grounded leaves blow along with a crinkle.

Cathbad picks up a wooden stave adorned with symbols of the harvest and rebirth and begins to circle Niall and Eili, drawing an invisible boundary that encapsulates their union. "Within this sacred circle, we invoke the blessings of Clíodhna, Aengus Óg, Danu and Dagda. May the gods smile upon this sacred union.” Niall and Eili exchange their vows as Cathbad gathers a bundle of dried herbs in his hand and ignites them from the small bonfire he had smouldering since before the ceremony began. The smoke billows forth, through the couple, and tendrils through the air. "Let these herbs cleanse and bless this union," he chants, his voice a soothing invocation. "May they carry away any remnants of the past, purifying the path for a new journey, filled with love, growth, and infinite possibilities.”

As the smoke dances around the couple, Cathbad raises his hands to the sky, chanting in Gaelic, honouring the spirits of the land, sea, and sky. With a final incantation, Cathbad concludes the ceremony. Niall and Eili embrace before an electrified crowd adorning the newlywed in cheers. Medb couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the sight of Eithne in tears of joy.

Eochu pushes forward before the crowd timidly to not overcast the beauty of the moment. “Now that nightfall is upon us, you’ll all be eager to commence the annual feast of Samhain.”

The crowd cheer even louder and make haste toward the Grand Hall. The honouring of the dead unfolds with the living relishing food and drink spread across the banquet table. The smell of smoked meats fills the air. Musicians are giddy for a ceili setting up their instruments around children bobbing in sheets pretending to be ghosts. “As if spirits couldn’t tell,” joke several of the depressed cynics from the crowd. This year such moods are rampant with many only celebrating despite themselves. Beyond the Grand Hall, treats left by the doors of every hut to appease the spirits are devoured by the voracious dogs never satisfied with their fill, the annual fooling of the residents thinking their hospitality has brought them favour with the wandering spirits. However, older generations take this ritual with great solemnity, going as far as one such lady who ceremonially sets her table with four places: one for herself and one for her husband, who died of a heart attack upon hearing of their son’s death, lost in a past war. His empty seat is accompanied by the fourth, that of her youngest, killed this very year in the Fall of Heroes. On this night when the void between realms is at its thinnest, she hopes for a brief visit.