I write Celtic/Romance novels so along with my brand new release, Queen of Kings, I wanted to write about the current Celtic holiday, Lughnassadh, pronounced Loo-nahs-ah, it is the Celtic Harvest festival, celebrated July 31 or August 1st.
Queen of Kings is set in Bronze Age Ireland. It is the story of Macha of the Red Braids, who is as wild, strong, and as beautiful as the land she rules. All men lust for her, warriors and kings bow to her might and magic, but one champion comes forth to gift her with a white bull and true love. And Queen of Kings begins at a Lughnassadh celebration, when the child Macha marches into the hall with her father and his men.
Men, women, and children in woolen tunics and plaid cloaks sat with legs crossed on soft wolf, deer, and fox pelts while they gazed at Aed, their king. He marched into the hall, tall and as straight as a spruce tree. His bulging, muscular arms and legs glistened from leek oil. Sporting a long, bushy moustache as red as a sundew flower, hair of the same striking hue hanging to his shoulders, and a shiny receding forehead, King Aed lifted his chin and led in his finest warriors to the rousing beat of the bodhran drum. His strongest champion and his seven best spearmen, along with his swiftest charioteers, marched in formation. A small redheaded girl with her hands planted on her hips pranced with quick, well-practiced steps in the center of this parade, with the full aplomb of her father, the king. For such a small child, Aed’s only heir didn’t seem tiny at all. She seemed larger than life.
Games, horse racing, and chariot racing were a big part of the Lughnassadh celebration. And in Queen of kings, when Macha is seven years older than in the above excerpt, she beats all the boys in the Lughnsassadh chariot races.
The druid stood smiling from the contagious zeal and energy of the young girl bounding toward him. Her flame-red braids waved in the wind with her springy gait. Her budding breasts bounced beneath the blue woolen tunic dress and the plaid cloak pinned over it. Her sweet adolescent face beamed with a bright smile as she called out in a tone breathy from running, “Druid Lasair, I beat all the boys my age.”
But before he could reply, a young warrior, his dark hair stiff and spiked like the mane on a racing horse, called out, “Congratulations, Macha. You drive a chariot almost as well as a boy does.”
She came to an abrupt halt and wheeled around to the young warrior. Macha’s anger crackled in the air around her, and her blue eyes blazed with fury. “I raced better than anyone.” She stepped so close to him her breath could be felt on his face. “And how fast or how well someone does something has nothing to do with their sex.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “Here, I’ll show you,” Macha said in a honeyed tone. She drew her arm back and swung with all her might, ramming her fist into his jaw. He dropped to the ground. As he lay in the dirt, gazing up at her with a groggy expression on his face, she said, “You see, even though you are a boy, you fell to the ground just as any girl would have. Even though I’m a girl, I put you there just like any boy could have.”
This Celtic fire festival is named after the sun god Lugh, a tall, muscular warrior with sky blue eyes and a hallo of golden light which blazed around his thick flaxen hair. He was also known as Lugh of the long arm because of his magic spear, which never missed its mark. The Irish earth goddess of Lughnassadh is Tailtiu.
Men, women, and children in woolen tunics and plaid cloaks sat with legs crossed on soft wolf, deer, and fox pelts while they gazed at Aed, their king. He marched into the hall, tall and as straight as a spruce tree. His bulging, muscular arms and legs glistened from leek oil. Sporting a long, bushy moustache as red as a sundew flower, hair of the same striking hue hanging to his shoulders, and a shiny receding forehead, King Aed lifted his chin and led in his finest warriors to the rousing beat of the bodhran drum. His strongest champion and his seven best spearmen, along with his swiftest charioteers, marched in formation. A small redheaded girl with her hands planted on her hips pranced with quick, well-practiced steps in the center of this parade, with the full aplomb of her father, the king. For such a small child, Aed’s only heir didn’t seem tiny at all. She seemed larger than life.
Games, horse racing, and chariot racing were a big part of the Lughnassadh celebration. And in Queen of kings, when Macha is seven years older than in the above excerpt, she beats all the boys in the Lughnsassadh chariot races.
The druid stood smiling from the contagious zeal and energy of the young girl bounding toward him. Her flame-red braids waved in the wind with her springy gait. Her budding breasts bounced beneath the blue woolen tunic dress and the plaid cloak pinned over it. Her sweet adolescent face beamed with a bright smile as she called out in a tone breathy from running, “Druid Lasair, I beat all the boys my age.”
But before he could reply, a young warrior, his dark hair stiff and spiked like the mane on a racing horse, called out, “Congratulations, Macha. You drive a chariot almost as well as a boy does.”
She came to an abrupt halt and wheeled around to the young warrior. Macha’s anger crackled in the air around her, and her blue eyes blazed with fury. “I raced better than anyone.” She stepped so close to him her breath could be felt on his face. “And how fast or how well someone does something has nothing to do with their sex.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “Here, I’ll show you,” Macha said in a honeyed tone. She drew her arm back and swung with all her might, ramming her fist into his jaw. He dropped to the ground. As he lay in the dirt, gazing up at her with a groggy expression on his face, she said, “You see, even though you are a boy, you fell to the ground just as any girl would have. Even though I’m a girl, I put you there just like any boy could have.”
This Celtic fire festival is named after the sun god Lugh, a tall, muscular warrior with sky blue eyes and a hallo of golden light which blazed around his thick flaxen hair. He was also known as Lugh of the long arm because of his magic spear, which never missed its mark. The Irish earth goddess of Lughnassadh is Tailtiu.
The origin of Lughnassadh begin with a forbidden love between Cian, a Tuatha De Dannan and Eithne, a Fomorian. Eithne's father locked her in a high tower. With the help of a druidess, Cian flew on a cloud to the tower and climbed in Eithne'swindow. Nine months later they had twin boys. Eithne's father threw the babies into the sea to waylay the chief druid's prophecy that his grandson would defeat him in battle. Though one baby drowned, the other swam away. The sea god, Mannanann MacLir, found the babe and gave him to a warrior woman, Tailtiu, pronounced tell-shuh.
After Tailtiu taught him everything she knew, the boy, Lugh, went to Tara, the hill fort of the Tuatha De Dannan. The porter asked him what skills he had to offer. When he said he was a warrior the gatekeeper told him they already had warriors. Lugh continued, saying he was a healer, then a smith, and so on. Each time, the porter said they had someone with that skill. Finally Lugh told him if they already had one person who could do all those things, he would leave.
The gatekeeper let him in and Lugh became King of Tara for a year and a day.Leading the Tuatha De Dannan in battle against the Fomorians, Lugh struck the Fomorian's evil eye with his slingshot. When the rock hit the evil eye, it looked at Lugh's grandfather, Baylor. As the evil eye killed all within its sight, Baylor died instantly. Thus the Fomorians were defeated. But Lugh's foster mother, and a royal lady of the Fir Bolog, Tailtiu, had to clear a vast forest to plant grain for her people. She died from the strain and exhaustion. Lugh ordered a fair, with feasting and funeral games, be held each first harvest, in her honor, the Lughnassadh.
As Lughnassadh celebrates the marriage of the earth to the sky, hand fasting marriages were celebrated at this time. Single men lined up on one side and unmarried women on the other. They paired off and married for a year and a day. The couple had to return to the same place the following year to make their marriage permanent. They could also divorce the following year at the festival by simply standing back to back, facing north and south, and walking out. Going their separate ways. Single once more.
An important part of Lughnassadh was the harvest of corn, wheat, oats, and barley, as well as fruits like berries and grapes. A loaf of bread made from the new corn was dedicated to the goddess. The tribe's chieftain or druid may have taken loaves of fresh baked bread, broke off pieces, and handed them to each member of the tribe as they walked sun wise around a large bon fire.
Fruit gathering was also part Lughnassadh. Young men and women paired off to pick bilberries and didn't return until nightfall. The boys thread berries into bracelets for the girls. Before going home, the girls took off their bracelets and left them on the hillside. After climbing back down the hill the young men participated in games such as horse racing.
The White Stead is a common companion of Lugh. The horse is the embodiment of the Goddess of Sovereignty who delivered spirits to Otherworld. In the coastal lands, people drove horses down to the beach and into the sea on Lughnasadh.
To celebrate Lughnassadh at your home, make a centerpiece of dried wheat sheaves, whole grain breads, acorns, hazel nuts, and grapes. Get the whole family involved in baking homemade bread. Say a prayer, thanking god for the harvest or the bounty of food you have year round. Share your Celtic heritage with others at the table by telling them the story of Lugh or Llew.
And read a copy of Queen of Kings or at least an excerpt:
“You may be his heir, but you are still only a woman.” Cimbaeth sneered. “Leave us, Macha of the Red Tresses. Dithorba and I rule Ulster now.”
“Who are you to order me about? Take heed, my kings, for once sworn to rule as a triad, you cannot cast your pledge aside. My father passed through the oaken door to the Otherworld, but I am here.” Grabbing the thick gold band around her neck, she tugged on it. “I wear his torque and claim his throne as my sacred right.” She pivoted toward them, her arm outstretched and the fingers of her hand curled back except for one long digit, its claw like nail pointing at them. “You deny me the crown in my sire’s stead, but it is not in your power to do so. Fate deems I shall rule Erinn.” Her heart pounded. “You cannot stop me.” She flung her arms into the air in a stirring motion, brewing trouble. Anger pounded in her. She wanted to leave at once, and wings were faster than legs.
As Dithorba began to speak, a cold gust swirled inside the hill fort, blasting his hair across his face and rendering him silent.
Macha let out a cackle. “Crow goddess, my patron, great Morrigan, I summon flight from my foes.” She threw her head back. “I shall return to feed on them, as is my due.” Fiery heat blazed through her skin, tingling with magical energy. Twirling a bright auburn braid with her fingers, she transformed it to a midnight hue. All form and texture changed before her. She ruffled the soft feathers cresting her head; they were so dark and beautiful.
Macha watched Cimbaeth’s eyes grow wide in shock. Dithorba gasped.
A shivery thrill spiraled through her. Now that they knew of her magic, the kings would fear what else she might do. She let out a raspy cackle. Clenching her teeth, moaning, the prickling sensation grew to a piercing pain. Quivering, feathers sprouted out of her flesh. Skin and bones stretching, twisting, leaving her small, compressed. Her teeth and tongue vanished. Snapping her beak open, she cawed at the two kings,whose faces grew ashen.
Shaky, she flapped her large wings, fighting to gain balance on short, thin legs with claws where feet had been. Her heart hammered faster than any human’s. Beating her wings hard—more rapidly than arms could move—she bobbed up and down until she soared off the ground. She was free once again. Blessing the dark goddess, Macha swooped down at the two kings, who ducked. Circling them seven times, her croaks pierced the air. She throbbed with breathless pleasure, feeding off the fright glistening in their eyes. Cawing loudly and flapping with all her might, she—now a crow—flew away from the cowering kings.
“You may be his heir, but you are still only a woman.” Cimbaeth sneered. “Leave us, Macha of the Red Tresses. Dithorba and I rule Ulster now.”
“Who are you to order me about? Take heed, my kings, for once sworn to rule as a triad, you cannot cast your pledge aside. My father passed through the oaken door to the Otherworld, but I am here.” Grabbing the thick gold band around her neck, she tugged on it. “I wear his torque and claim his throne as my sacred right.” She pivoted toward them, her arm outstretched and the fingers of her hand curled back except for one long digit, its claw like nail pointing at them. “You deny me the crown in my sire’s stead, but it is not in your power to do so. Fate deems I shall rule Erinn.” Her heart pounded. “You cannot stop me.” She flung her arms into the air in a stirring motion, brewing trouble. Anger pounded in her. She wanted to leave at once, and wings were faster than legs.
As Dithorba began to speak, a cold gust swirled inside the hill fort, blasting his hair across his face and rendering him silent.
Macha let out a cackle. “Crow goddess, my patron, great Morrigan, I summon flight from my foes.” She threw her head back. “I shall return to feed on them, as is my due.” Fiery heat blazed through her skin, tingling with magical energy. Twirling a bright auburn braid with her fingers, she transformed it to a midnight hue. All form and texture changed before her. She ruffled the soft feathers cresting her head; they were so dark and beautiful.
Macha watched Cimbaeth’s eyes grow wide in shock. Dithorba gasped.
A shivery thrill spiraled through her. Now that they knew of her magic, the kings would fear what else she might do. She let out a raspy cackle. Clenching her teeth, moaning, the prickling sensation grew to a piercing pain. Quivering, feathers sprouted out of her flesh. Skin and bones stretching, twisting, leaving her small, compressed. Her teeth and tongue vanished. Snapping her beak open, she cawed at the two kings,whose faces grew ashen.
Shaky, she flapped her large wings, fighting to gain balance on short, thin legs with claws where feet had been. Her heart hammered faster than any human’s. Beating her wings hard—more rapidly than arms could move—she bobbed up and down until she soared off the ground. She was free once again. Blessing the dark goddess, Macha swooped down at the two kings, who ducked. Circling them seven times, her croaks pierced the air. She throbbed with breathless pleasure, feeding off the fright glistening in their eyes. Cawing loudly and flapping with all her might, she—now a crow—flew away from the cowering kings.
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9 comments:
Your books sound great...On my TBR list....LOVE your book covers....Congrats on your success...Tabs
Much success with the book. This book is a little odd I must read it to understand.
lorettaC,
lbcanton@verizon.net
I loved reading the excerpt. This sounds like an interesting story. I don't think i've read anything set in Bronze Age Ireland. I look forward to reading Queen of Kings and I wish you much success.
LORETTA CANTON said...
Much success with the book. This book is a little odd I must read it to understand.
It based on the Irish Legend of , Macha Mong Ruad, the only woman listed among the High Kings of Ireland. My author notes may help it seem less odd, or maybe not. LOL
It’s hard to believe this tale survived, passed down by oral tradition alone, for over a thousand years before it was ever put to paper. Then again, it’s an exciting story. I wanted to let the wonderful readers, who may not be familiar with this legend, know what I kept from the original tale, and what I chose to change and add, and why.
Listed as Milesian High Kings, Macha Mong Ruad, Cimbaeth, Dithorba, and Aed the Red remained constant from time out of mind. In spinning my version, I named the other characters. In the triumvirate of Aed the Red, Dithorba, and Cimbaeth each reigned for seven years in turn. Though usually referred to as brothers or cousins, I made them friends only. When Áed died, his daughter Macha came forward to claim his reign. Cimbaeth and Dithorba opposed her, so she went to war against them. It has been told, she slew Dithorba in that battle, but I thought it best he didn’t die by her hand. I also added a handsome, brawn charioteer, to drool over.
I endowed Macha with the power to shape shift to a crow, adding even more of a morrigan aspect to her. In all versions of the tale, she married Cimbaeth. Then, Dithorba's sons tried to overthrow Macha. Disguised as a leper, she seduced and enslaved them. I slipped a crone and a cauldron of plenty in there, again to emphasize Macha’s morrigan traits. With the pin from her brooch, she drew the boundaries of Emain Macha and then forced Dithorba’s sons to build it. The names and descriptions of the three halls also come from the legend. After Cimbaeth died, she ruled alone, the only female sovereign listed in the High Kings of Ireland.
The second part of Queen of Kings is all my doing. In Nath, I created the great love of Macha’s life, to flesh out her bigger than life character. Making her more approachable to the modern reader, while still remaining goddess like, especially like the goddess morrigan, whom I see as the essence of female power.
I can only hope to one day be as great a writer as the ancient story teller, who over two thousand years ago, sat crouched around a flickering amber peat fire and gazed into the eyes of their tribesman, who held their breath with awe, listening to the first telling of this story. How I envy them. May the legend of Macha Mong Ruad live on for a thousand times a thousand years more. I hope you enjoy my version.
Remember they're two drawings today - so good luck to all those that post comments today - two of you will be winners. Good Luck everyone.
Hi :)
Thanks for a great blog post.
Thank you Cornelia for sharing.
The book sounds amazing.
Also thanks for the indepth response in the comments Cornelia.
Love and best wishes,
twitter.com/RKCharron
Great post, Cornelia! The excerpts gave a wonderful flavor of the book. I don't think I've read any story set in Bronze Age Ireland either, though it sounds very interesting. Congrats and best of luck!
Wishing you every success with this, Cornelia - sounds wonderful! There's a few of yours on my to buy list and this one is being added right now!
Best wishes and Congratulations ~ Gaynor
Love your books! I'm glad you posted this link on FB! New book sounds fascinating!
Marie
Thanks to everyone for the wonderful comments and the interest in my books. I really appreciate it. Happy Lughnasa to all.
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