Read Celtic Tales of Enchantment for Free Online Page A

the cracks in the rock. Halfway up, a shrieking gull flew out of her nest, right in front of his face. Startled, Diarmaid jerked back; his feet slipped from under him and he was left dangling by his fingertips. His friends gasped, as, for what seemed like an eternity, he hung from the vertical drop. Then his desperate feet found a niche and he hauled himself upwards again.
    At last he reached the summit, and, tying the rope securely to a big boulder, he lowered it down to his comrades. ‘I will go ahead,’ he shouted, his voice faint and echoing. ‘You can follow my tracks.’
    Then he set out across the plain that stretched before him. After travelling for a short while he came to a well full of clear spring water. He placed a mark on the side of the well for his comrades to see. On a nearby ledge lay a richly ornamented drinking-horn. Taking the horn, he filled it from the well and had a long refreshing drink.
    Suddenly he heard a furious bellow behind him. Swirling around, he saw a tall, fully armed warrior striding towards him.
    ‘Who gave you permission to drink from my well with my drinking-horn?’ he shouted. ‘I will have satisfaction from you!’
    Drawing his sword, the warrior rushed at Diarmaid. The Fianna warrior immediately drew his own sword to defend himself.
    They fought for hours. Wide cracks appeared on their shields as they slashed at each other with their great weapons. Then Diarmaid’s opponent began to tire. He edged away and was about to jump into the well when Diarmaid managed to get a tight grip on him.
    ‘You will not escape that easily!’ he said. The warrior struggled to free himself. They swayed on the edge of the well and then both toppled in.
    Still grasping each other, they sank deeper and deeper in the water. Just as Diarmaid began to think that there was no bottom to this well, and that he was condemned to a watery grave, his feet touched solid ground. The well-water surged up and away and, to his amazement, Diarmaid found himself standing in beautiful countryside, with fertile valleys, green hills and leafy woods. He let go his grip on the other man, who immediately disappeared.

    In the distance Diarmaid saw a city with a large, imposing palace. He went towards it. When he reached the green in front of the palace he saw that it was occupied by a group of warriors, practising armed combat. Then he spied his enemy from the well, running towards the palace entrance.
    Diarmaid tried to follow him but his way was blocked by the warriors. They menaced him with their weapons, but Diarmaid drew his sword and, with a loud battle-cry, cleaved his way through the group.
    Those who survived his onslaught ran into the palace and barricaded themselves inside. Tired and wounded, Diarmaid lay down behind a hedge to snatch some sleep. He was awakened by a tap on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw a young warrior with sword in hand.
    Instinctively, Diarmaid grabbed his own sword and jumped to his feet. But the stranger gave him a friendly smile and said, ‘I am the Knight of Valour. I mean you no harm. My only wish is to help you. Come with me to a safe place where you can rest and recover your strength.’
    Diarmaid followed his new friend to a large house some miles away. The man brought him into a banqueting hall where a magnificent feast was in progress. Diarmaid was introduced to all the lords and ladies in the hall and sat down with them to enjoy the feast.
    When he had eaten and drunk his fill, Diarmaid thanked his host for his hospitality.
    ‘Tell me the name of this country,’ he said. ‘I would also like to know the name of the warrior who escaped from me at the palace.’
    ‘This country is called Tír Faoi Thoinn, the land beneath the sea,’ his host replied. ‘The warrior is known as the Knight of the Well. He is my brother and is now king of this country. But, although we are brothers, we are sworn enemies. He unfairly deprived me of most of the land and inheritance our late