The Hound of Culaain

This story was written for a contest elsewhere with the theme 'Supernatural'.

It had to include at least three of the following list of 20 words, but me being me, decided I would get all 20 in.

1 - Nightclub

2 -Music Record

3 - Roller Coaster

4 - Mother (monster)-in-law

5 - Paris

6 - Misfit

7 - Song

8 - Carnival

9 - Monk/Nun

10 - Lonely

11 - Elements

12 - Abandoned

13 - Child

14 - Blood Moon

15 - Valley

16 - Creator

17 - Family

18 - Friends

19 - Good/Evil

20 - Zoo

Foreword: Apologies to any student of Irish History as I have taken more than one Gaelic legend and mashed them together to get what I wanted the plot to be. Some of what you read is based on ancient stories and some come from my head. The settings are real enough and a quick look at the map of Ireland will give you the locations. If you want to know which is which then enjoy the research otherwise hope you enjoy the tale.

The song referred to in the early part of the story is called the "Wolves of Ossory" by Barry Barnes, and can be found on YouTube.

*****

"Gather round children, draw close to the fire and let me tell you of a legend from our ancestors." The crowd groaned in mock disappointment as the old woman spoke, as they had heard her tales every year at the Newry Carnival.

No one really knew why she appeared every year as all she seemed to do was tell tales that would frighten the children. She would recount the same old legends of ancient warriors and their tales of heroic battles of good against evil. She always ended with the same song though she would change some of the words ever so slightly.

A couple of times she had been challenged as to why she played that song as everyone knew that Ossory was in the South of Ireland but she would dismiss them with a curse muttering about how the hounds of the North drove them South.

The words to the song ran

"Son I've got to save a soul tonight,

yes I'm afraid but I've just got to put this right

for even a man who says his prayers by night,

can become a wolf when the wolfbain blooms and the moon is full and bright.

Instead, she would twist the word wolf to wolfhound and add blood moon instead of just moon, and when she got to the verse that ran

I can't find you or your clan,

I want to help you if I can,

are you a beast or will you be a man someday?..."

She would always add... 'my sweet child.'

Sensing she may be losing the crowd she shushed them with a hissed curse as she went on.

"This is not the tale of Scáthach who instructed CuChalian in warrior skills. Nor is it the story of Aife who fought CuChalian, and after losing to him, was forced into bearing him a son." The old woman paused and muttered to herself, then spat on the fire before she continued, "It is not even the story of Neasa, who was forced into marriage by that cursed monk Cathbad. Yes, the very same Neasa who later became the mother to our founding father Conchobhar."

The crowd had quietened a little at the mention of their founding father, a name they knew rather than the ones of myths and legends.

The old woman tried to draw herself upright but failed as her back wouldn't straighten, but despite the pain, she said firmly. "This is the story of Fionna as a child and how she learnt at the knee of Liath Luachra. Now Liath was a true warrior princess who ruled these forests along with her companion Anluan, the first hound of Culaain."

Although she had called the gathered throng 'children' most of them, to her, were of warrior age, though perhaps to her advanced years they were just children. Some were spellbound as not only was this a story they had not heard before, but the old crone had referred to Fionn as a female, yet legend had it Fionn was a boy.

Sensing she had her audience's attention back she lowered her voice to make them strain forward to hear her every word.

"Hah, I see that look on your faces, surely Fionn was a boy I hear you say and you have called her Fionna, the woman must be mad," The old woman snorted which turned into a cough. Once she had stopped spluttering she went on, "This is the story of Fionn's grandmother, how she met and married her true love. The tale of how she gave birth to Fionn's mother Muirne who later bore her son Delmne who became the one we know as Fionn mac Cumhaill."

The gathered group in the corner of the fairground fell silent as the old woman went on.

"But first we must travel back in time. Back to before the English came and captured our lands, even back to before the time when the Vikings first started to raid. Back to the middle of the seventh century when we ruled ourselves, but even back then there was conflict between the North and the South. This was the time when men who became wolves first started to appear and crept up from the South like a plague. It was here the resistance started, it was here that the hound to fight the wolves was born of a demoness and a werewolf."

She went on waving her hands around, her voice taking on an almost melodic tone that seemed to belie her years,

"We must transport ourselves to Silent Valley that back then split the great forest that stretched from the coast at Ballymartin to where Rostrevor Forest ends today. Through those dark depths, every traveller who landed at Greencastle on the coast had to cross to travel through the Mourne mountains to reach Castlewellan. It's in those gloomy dense depths where robbers and thieves lurked preying on travellers but also where legend has it where creatures far worse had started to invade... that is where our story begins..."

*****

The slight child was sobbing with fear and desperation as she tried to lift the heavy sword she had picked up from her father's inert body. Trying to avert her gaze from his ruined face she turned slowly, the point of the sword dragging in the dirt as the two men circled her. Her head twisted around as she attempted to keep each one in her sight at the same time, a task she realised was hopeless.

"You might as well give in wee missy," snarled one of the men who drooled as he watched her movements with beady eyes waiting for his partner to get behind the girl so they could take her in a pincer movement. Their plans involved capturing her alive, though it was unlikely she would live the day out after they had finished with her.

"If you entertain us well, we may even let you live," leered the other, a brute of a man whose stench filled the wooded glade. "After all, I am sure your young pussy is still untouched and will be tight around my cock, unlike your mother's." As he spoke, he indicated with his head towards an older woman who was being fucked by a man a few yards away. Her cries had long been silenced, though the man grunting as he thrust into her didn't seem to care that she was already dead.

"Leave me alone you bastards," the girl sobbed knowing that perhaps her final moments had come. "Leave me alone or may Liath Luachra take your souls." The curse to invoke the ancient Gaelic warrior witch was delivered with such strength and passion it almost denied her weakened state.

The two men threw back their heads and roared with laughter as one spat out, "You think to frighten us with your tales of a legend you stupid child. Everyone knows Liath Luachra is just a made-up ghost story to frighten children and keep them from this forest."

The other man snorted with derision as he said, "I spit on your Liath Luachra. In fact, if she was here I would fuck her, she would probably like a nice portion of cock." The man cupped his genitalia and wiggled his hand to emphasise his point.

Those were the last words he uttered on this earth as a sword point appeared out of his mouth having been driven with force through the back of his skull. The young girl dropped the sword she was trying to lift and tried to stifle a scream while the other man just looked on in shock as his partner crumpled to the floor dead.

"Did someone call my name?" said a voice that seemed to twinkle in the moonlight as a pale woman appeared in the gloom holding a sword that dripped blood from its point to the grass below. Her ice blonde hair was pulled back from her face into a tight french plait. Her high cheekbones gave her face a regal look and her two glittering blue eyes on either side of her button nose seemed to twinkle like jewels. Her face seemed to glimmer in the moonlight and with a shrug, she divested herself of the heavy cloak around her shoulders to reveal an almost naked body with bindings around her breasts and nether regions, but very little else.

The woman looked at the young girl and smiled, her pearly white teeth glowing in her mouth, "And who might you be young girl?" she said in a kindly voice.

"Fionna," stammered the girl, her voice close to breaking as she looked deep into the pools of sapphire blue that regarded her coldly as if appraising her soul.

"Well I am...," but before the woman could reply the man from the other side had jerked himself from his shock and cut across her words.

"Your name doesn't matter bitch as you are about to die," he snarled as he raised his sword and charged across the clearing with murderous intent.

"How fucking rude," the woman laughed and winked at Fionna before she moved to face the man in a fluid motion. Fionna watched in awe as the woman didn't cease in her movement, nor did she turn away from the charge, instead she seemed to almost flow under the clumsy sword stroke and with a flick of her wrist opened the man's throat sending blood spurting in a red geyser. The man stumbled to a halt, clasped his hands to the severed arteries as he collapsed to his knees before falling flat on his face.

The third man having heard the commotion turned away from Fionna's mother, his cock still hanging from his coverings as he picked up his sword and swung it through the air menacingly. Covering the ground in the blink of an eye the strange woman moved like a striking dart in and out of range. The man dropped his sword and clutched his hands to his groin as his severed penis fell to the ground with a meaty thump. Blood gushed through his fingers as he curled in a ball whimpering as he tried to stem the flow.

The woman raised her eyebrow at Fionna as she said, "My name by the way is..." then she paused as she considered her response before continuing, "Actually my real name doesn't matter... for now... so you can call me Sheela." Then as she moved away from the whimpering man cupping his genitals as if he could stop the seeping of blood. Sheela looked at Fionna as she said, "The life of this piece of dirt is yours, do as you wish."

Fionna just stood shivering, rooted to the spot with fear as her eyes flicked between the inert bodies of her parents. Her brain wanted to propel her across the clearing and finish the man but the thought of taking a life seemed evil to her.

The woman sighed almost in resigned amusement, "One of the good ones I see," and with that moved across the clearing, lifting the sword and plunging it into the body of the man who gurgled once before he died.

Fionna staggered a few steps towards the woman but as she moved, her path was blocked by a huge shaggy beast with eyes that glowed like coals and pearls of slaver that dripped from its jaws. It stood stock still, panting as it eyed her with what she feared was a look that meant he was about to devour her and all that could emerge from her mouth was a tiny squeak of fear.

Sheela spun around and spying the beast roared with laughter, "So there you are you lazy fat hound, nice of you to turn up eventually." Then seeing the look of petrified fear on Fionna's face she smiled as she said, "Fionna meet Anluan, the hound of Culaain."

At the sound of his Mistress's voice, the dog relaxed and trotted over to Sheela and nuzzled its large shaggy head into her hand. Crouching down Sheela rubbed the dog's head with affection as she said, "Anluan is what you would call an Irish wolfhound and his name means Great Hound, though I think sometimes it should be Great Lump."

The hound snorted almost like it understood her words and turned his head towards Fionna who went to speak but the hundreds of questions she had in her brain wouldn't seem to come out. Then the enormity of what had happened hit her as she gazed again at the shattered bodies of her dead father and mother and with a small squeak crumpled to the ground.

"Oh Anluan," sighed Sheela, "Look what you have done scaring the poor wee one half to death, now we can't just be leaving her here abandoned now can we?"

"She would have been even more confused if she had heard me speak," the wolfhound laughed, though his laugh came out as more of a growl.

"Indeed," Sheela chuckled, "Perhaps we keep that a secret for now along with my real name. She could be the one you know Anluan, she really could be the one."

*****

It was a few hours later when Fionna came round, her mouth was watering as she could smell the meat roasting over a fire that was being tended to by a figure with her back to her.

"So you are awake then child?" Sheela said without moving from her position.

"Yes, Mistress I am awake but wonder why you lied to me."

The woman visibly stiffened but then her shoulders relaxed as she laughed, "This one has spirit Anluan," pausing before she went on, "So what did I lie about little one?"

Fionna suddenly felt a warmth on her back and realised that the beast must have appeared behind her and was very close. The breaths came in shallow pants and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Almost too afraid to speak at first, she swallowed bravely and went on, trying to put some conviction in her voice, "You said your name was Sheela yet we both know that is a lie."

"Pray what is my name then oh wise one whose wisdom belies their years."

"You are Liath Luachra," Fionna said firmly, "The demoness who lay with wolves."

"Well to be fair little one he was technically a man at the time we... as you so quaintly put it... lay together," Liath chuckled to herself as she went on, "Then you should call me Liath."

"Is it true you fight the werewolves?" Fionna asked breathlessly, the hero worship clear in her voice.

Yes indeed I do, along with many other things and like all the legends about me some are true and some are not. For example, legend has it I eat small children." With those words, Liath spun round and towered over Fionna causing her to squeal in fright, but Liath just pealed with laughter, "But if truth be known I much prefer chicken."

Still chuckling to herself she drew a sharp dagger from her belt and beckoned to Fionna to come near. "If you are to stay with me, as it seems your clan have a propensity to do so, then I need to teach you how to handle a sword. After your performance earlier something that is very necessary I think," Liath paused before she went on, "Also, these locks will need to go."

Fionna squealed in horror as her hair was something her mother had loved for as long as she could remember. Many nights her mother would sit and brush Fionna's long dark tresses until they shone like polished ebony, all the time singing her a soft song about love and heartbreak. Fionna was about to protest and pull away but Liath was too fast for her and before she could even blink the small blade had flashed a couple of times and the majority of her hair fell to the forest floor.

"Now sit between my legs child and let me make a proper job as at the moment you look like someone has tried to scalp you... which I guess technically is what I just did."

As she sat between Liath's thighs Fionna listened to the poem that she kept repeating over and over as she worked on Fionna's hair with a pair of shears.

On the day a virgin attains full bloom

They must mate under the bright blood moon.

Upon the rock, when seed and fluids are dispersed

The spell that's cast shall be forever reversed

"What does that mean?" Fionna asked but Liath just chuckled.

"Nothing for you to worry your head about yet princess, your day will come soon enough. Now sleep as tomorrow we start your training for I fear the wolves are rising from the South and wish to extract what they see as their revenge for spurned love."

****

The next year was the toughest that Fionna had ever endured.

"When fighting werewolves you need the four S's...speed, strength, stamina and surprise," Liath said as she regarded the child. "Strength will come in time as you grow and stamina will come from training every day, so for now we will work on speed and surprise."

On stating the last word Liath flowed forward and swept Fionna's legs from under her depositing her on her ass in a muddy puddle.

"So lesson one, always be aware and ready at all times, feel free to try to strike me whenever you wish."

Fionna saw red and swung the stick she had been given as a training sword wildly at Liath who just laughed as she ducked away from the clumsy swings.

"I can see we have a lot of work to do on your sword skills so maybe we should work on speed first and start to develop your stamina." With that, she turned to the wolfhound who had been resting his big shaggy head on his paws watching the two humans fight. "Anluan," At the mention of his name the hound became instantly alert and leapt to his feet quivering to attention.

Turning her head from the dog to the young girl she smiled wickedly before saying,

"You see yonder atop that small hill there is a stone pyre that sits upon a carved rock. Reach there before Anluan and you may eat tonight, fail and you will go hungry."

Fionna stared into the distance and could just about make out the rock formation Liath referred to which must have been at least a mile away.

"But that's madness he has four legs and I have two he will win for sure," then pouting she went on, "I might as well start looking for berries to eat now."

"I am naught but fair child, so as you have half the legs he has, you will get half the distance as a start." As Fionna set off in a run Liath shouted after her, "But if he catches you he has my permission to bite you."

Liath chuckled as she heard the frightened squeal and saw the speed of Fionna increase as she rushed up the trail.

"Don't bite her too hard," Liath said quietly as she knelt beside Anluan and ruffled his head affectionately, "We will teach her more lessons when she returns."

The pair watched the girl reach the halfway point and without being bidden Anluan streaked away, a dark grey blur of fur as he sped through the trees and out of sight.

Fionna was panting with effort when suddenly she saw the stone outcrop was getting closer. Craning her head around without breaking her pace Fionna scanned the undergrowth behind her looking for signs of the pursuing dog. She almost laughed in triumph as the coast was clear but when she turned her head to the front she ran straight into Anluan who was waiting in her path between her and the stone outcrop.

"Good doggie, just sit and let me win I am starving."

Anluan regarded her with his coal-black eyes then bared his teeth and growled, more for effect than anything else. It did have the effect that he thought it might, as a small trickle of urine ran down the girl's leg and her face screwed up as she began to cry. Taking pity he padded forward intent on just nipping her as instructed but when he got close he was suddenly blinded as she threw a handful of sand into his eyes. As he shook his head trying to clear his vision he heard her laugh as she ran down the path towards victory.

The stone outcropping seemed like it was in touching distance when the flying weight of Anluan hit her full in the back sending her tumbling to the ground. She knew better than to move this time and waited as the dog towered over her, her face pressed to the ground. She yelped when she felt the sharp nip to her buttock, not enough to draw blood but enough to know that she had been bitten, Leaving her face down Anluan trotted to the structure where Liath waited for him and lay at her feet.