Celts -- Folklore; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- Great Britain; Folklore -- Great Britain; Tales -- Great Britain
"I set off, and reached the cave, the two doors of which opened. The
giant's breath drew me into the cave; and stools, chairs, and pots were
by its action dashing against each other, and like to break my legs. The
door shut when I went in, and was shut as fast as though seven small
bars, and seven large bars, and seven locks were on it; and seven
crowbars could not force it open; and I was a prisoner in the cave. The
giant drew in his breath again, and the doors opened. I gave a look
upwards, and saw the short spear, and laid hold of it. I drew the short
spear, and I warrant you that I dealt him such a blow with it as did not
require to be repeated; I swept the head off him. I took the head down
to the old woman, who was reaping the rushes, and said to her, 'There is
the giant's head for you.' The old woman said, 'Brave man! I knew that
you were a hero. This island had need of your coming to it to-day.
Unless you deceive me, you are Mac Connachar son of the King of
Lochlann.' 'I have never deceived a man. I am he,' said I. 'I am a
soothsayer,' said she, 'and know the object of your journey. You are
going in quest of your mother and sister.' 'Well,' said I, 'I am so far
on the way if I only knew where to go for them.' 'I'll tell you where
they are,' said she; 'they are in the kingdom of the Red Shield, and the
King of the Red Shield is resolved to marry your mother, and his son is
resolved to marry your sister. I'll tell you how the town is situated. A
canal of seven times seven paces breadth surrounds it. On the canal
there is a drawbridge, which is guarded during the day by two creatures
that no weapon can pierce, as they are covered all over with scales,
except two spots below the neck in which their death-wounds lie. Their
names are Roar and Rustle. When night comes the bridge is raised, and
the monsters sleep. A very high and big wall surrounds the king's
palace.'
"Stretch out your leg, Kayn, till I put a salve of herbs and
healing to it. Salve and binding herb and the poultice are
cooling; the worm is channering. Pressure and haste hard bind me,
for I must hear Mass in the great church at Rome, and be in
Norway before I sleep."
Kayn Mac Loy said:
"May it be no foot to Kayn or a foot to any one after one, or I
be Kayn son of Loy, if I stretch out my foot for you to put a
salve of herbs and healing on it, till you tell me if you went
farther in search of your mother and sister, or if you returned
home, or what befell you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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