Participles and Portents (24)

Salt and Sea

The day dawned clear and bright. Breakfast was wonderful, steel-cut oats with all the trimmings. While it was not the boys' favorite meal, they ate it with relish. Fiona and Lin treated themselves to several cups of strong coffee, bracing for the strong winds that were sure to greet them on the ferry over to the island. Over breakfast Sean regaled them with an old legend that was tied to the islands.

"It seems that roughly 700 years ago there was a King who held sway over the people of the islands. He was descended from Tuatha De Danann, most notably directly from Lir, the Lord of the sea. This King, named after his lineage as was his due, married and had a child, Fionnuala. She was a lovely dark-haired beauty with sapphire eyes like her mother, Eva. A few years after, Lir's wife became with child again; this time she carried twins. During a stormy night at the edge of the sea, she delivered the King's sons, Roarke and Conn. Unfortunately the birth was more than her body could take and while the boys lived, their mother perished. Fionnuala was with her mother at the birthing and protected the new born babes with her small body as the storm raged and the sea challenged her hold over her brothers. The young girl wrapped them in her arms and cradled them to her as she wept over her mother. It is said this is how Lir found them in the cold pure light of dawn, with his daughter's clear voice singing her mother's soul off to the gods. He took what remained of his family home and in due time the boys proved to have voices that were also unmatched in purity, a tenor and a bass. The children became the heart of the people, singing at all the festivals and rituals. In time, Lir determined that he should marry again. He married Aoife, a woman with Faery in her veins. She was a natural beauty with long dark wild tresses and strangely captivating emerald eyes. For awhile the new family flourished. But Aiofe was not content with only a part of the Lir's heart. She grew to resent the time and attention that was lavished on the children and resolved that this should end. Finally, when her jealousy had outgrown her capacity for reason, she took the children down to the same sands where the boys had been born. As they laughed and sang in the water, she cast a spell upon them. A ball of fire hit the sea and surrounded them.  The water burned and singed them and where it touched their form began to change. As the change took place, Aiofe spoke out their fate. For 700 years they would be cast upon the seas able to find shelter only in Lough Derravaragh, along the Straits of Moyle and the Isle of Inish Glora. Some small part of her took pity on the children and she granted that when they were able to come to land, they would still be able to lift their voices in song, but never to utter their true names and never to tell of their plight. When the fire extinguished itself, all that was left were three beautiful swans, silent on the now quiet waters. Aiofe turned and gathered up their belongings, the rings that told of their status, their clothing and the three slips of silk that had been bound to their cradles by their mother and that the children always carried with them. She was sorely tempted to cast it all into the water, but she knew she would have to return these to the King. When Lir learned of the plight of his children, he was sorely grieved. He went to the beach, but all he found were three white feathers. He held these to him and cried, for he knew he had lost his children. In the days that followed, Aiofe soon learned of her error. Lir could not be consoled. He spent all of his time at the sands or searching for a way to bring his children back. In trying to focus the King on her, she had lost him completely. And so it came to pass that eventually Lir was also lost to his people. Some say he returned to the Lord of the sea seeking help. Others say that that his heart shattered and the sea took him gently to join Eva."

Sean looked up, "There's more to the story, but it is pretty long, and we don't want to miss the ferry."

Even Ian had been absorbed in the telling of the tale and had not noticed the time that had slipped by. They all scrambled to get jackets put together and clean up their places. With the luggage properly stowed for the night's drive back to the cottage, they set off for the ferry, all a bit more subdued with the tale of the Children of Lir lingering in their minds.

The ferry was not very commodious, but it did the job of getting them over well enough. Sean and Ian stood at the prow, looking almost like mast-heads pointing the way. Fiona took the opportunity to get a few photographs in and Lin just took in the scenery, lost in the sadness of the story that lingered with her. Disembarking, they made sure to check the time of the return journey and coordinated their itinerary for the day. Sean wanted to go directly to the monastic ruins. It took a bit of bartering for time, but eventually they all agreed and set out. The island seemed deserted. They had taken the earliest ferry and were the only early passengers and, as the North Island was the less visited of the two, it seemed likely that they would not have many people join them over the course of the day. It was rather intriguing to be the sole adventurers wandering about the empty spaces. The macair, or fine white sands of the island, was soon a coating on their legs and in their hair. The ruins proved to be much more exciting for Fiona and Sean than anyone else as they rooted around making observations and hypothesizing about where the dye was processed and what areas were used for various functions. Ian did find what he thought was the old chapel, and here he settled down for a few quick sketches.

Lin opened her jacket and fingered the brooch that Sean had insisted she wear. She took it off and looked at its finely wrought detail. It was a very old piece, she thought. Running through Sean's story in her mind, she wondered if the artist had been thinking of the old legend when it had been wrought. It certainly seemed likely. She carefully fastened it back on and closed up her jacket. Fiona came up beside her to ask if she might like to go and investigate the coast a bit. Checking the time, Lin agreed it would be a good time to go down toward the coast if they wanted to get in as much of that as possible.

Sean and Ian were definitely ready for something more active than the ruins, so they took off ahead of the two women. Lin reminded them to be careful on the rock and to stay well back from the sea edge, as the undertow in the area might not be safe. The boys just rolled their eyes and plunged ahead. Fiona asked Lin what she thought of possibly including this area in the travelogue piece. Lin thought it would only prove worth it if her Mom could tie a famous author to it as that was what the magazine was known for. As Fiona pondered how she might work the tale of the Children of Lir into her next article, Lin wandered over to sit on a flat rock that gave her a spectacular view of the Bay. "Are you coming?" asked Fiona. "I'll be along in a bit," replied Lin. "It is a small place, and from here I think I should be able to find you pretty easy."

Fiona looked a bit uneasy at the separation, wondering what was occupying Lin, but set off after the boys as it appeared her daughter wanted to be alone.

Sitting there Lin thought back on the last few years.  She wound the thoughts around her head and wove through a bit of Lir. What would it have been like if it had been her children who had been lost to her instead of her husband? How could she had survived that? His decision to disappear after what he had done was so different than the absolute and total loss the King had suffered. Her humiliation and inability to console her boys when they did not understand their father's absence seemed like a mere blip on the radar when compared to what Lir had been forced to suffer. She sat there musing on what the story might be able to tell her and letting the lapping of the waves help her absorb a bit more of her past.

Sean had raced out onto the beach just a few paces ahead of Ian. Still, they both heard the faint whisper as the sea beckoned to them. They moved cautiously to the edge and listened as they cocked their heads, staring at each other as the words from the waves became clear:

King’s Lament


Cover me deep in the machair
Dash my heart open
Punished like Prometheus
Bound to his sentence
So bound am I
Staring out at this sea
My only solace the song that whispers back
I strive to hear its low, slight call
Soprano, Tenor, Bass
Fionnuala, Roarke and Conn
Lifting their voices pure again into the wind
Calling to me
Loving still, though I have betrayed ye
I who should have seen the peril
King of this rock, this shell, this empty hollow
I will follow this song, my children
I have nowhere else to tread
My path lies not here, it lies with thee
Come closer so that I might find ye
Closer so that we might fold ourselves again together
I would not abandon ye
Let me support ye on these waves
For all that I have not been
Let me be all that I can
Come to me
Come to me

The boys could feel the rhythm of the sea in the chanting whisper of the waves. It seemed to weave its arms around them, put its chill hands in theirs and pull them forward. Ian and Sean clasped hands without even noticing and began to walk into the waves.

Come to me, Come to me,

The boys heard it over and over again and the pull became stronger.

Almost as one they whispered back, "We're coming Daddy."

A strong hand hit each of the boys square in the back, fingers dug like claws into their jackets and burrowed almost to the skin. A loud and demanding voice shouted their names and the grip that had them began pulling them back. The voice from the sea pleaded more urgently, but the force that had a hold on them would not let go. They stumbled and fell backward, seawater filling their mouths and making them gag. They released their hold on each other and turned on their bellies to stand, surprised that they were in the water. Fiona stood there, thigh deep in the water, looking like a lioness or a gorgon depending on whether or not she had just saved them or was about to eat them. Either way she looked fierce.

Fiona looked at her grandsons. The shock on their faces and the look of total terror was rather unexpected. She had no idea what they were doing wandering out into the waves. She had only known that she could not let them go there. She had felt compelled to pull them back in. She had not thought it would be so hard to get their attention. And here they were, looking at her as if they did not know where they were and as if she were a terrifying vision. Well, perhaps she was at that.  She was furious at them for going into the sea.

It was at that moment that Lin made it to the beach, palms bleeding, knees of her jeans ripped and one shoe missing. She plunged into the waves and wrapped her family in her arms. "I thought you were leaving me," she breathed. "Thank you for keeping them safe, Mom."