Fate of the Lir-Brood VI…

*

Where are my brothers?

Why have I lived?

This apex of affliction to know

What now is left

But a life of despair

I am unable to bear

Such heart-break of anguish and woe.

*

…And what of the swans?

Miserable their abode on the Sea of Moyle with the dark, wild sea about them.

They began to suffer from cold and hunger.

One night a tempest fell upon the sea.

Finnola saw the sky of threatening clouds approaching.

“Beloved brothers,” she said, “it is certain this storm will separate us. We must appoint a place of meeting.”

“Your words are true and wise,” said Aedh.

“Let us fix on the Rock of One,” said Fiachra.

“It is a crag we are all familiar with,” said Conn.

*

The swans were soon scattered over the waters by the storm but by morn-tide the havoc of the sky abated and Finnola swam to the Rock of One.

There was no sign of her brothers on the crag and no trace of them on the sea though she strained her eyes with looking.

She began to fear that she would never see them again.

Soon after she again looked over the sea and saw Conn swimming towards the rock, his head drooping, his feathers drenched by salt spray.

Not long after, Fiachra appeared, so faint with wet and cold he was scarce able to reach the crag and unable to answer when Finnola greeted him.

She placed her two brothers under each of her wings and said, “If but Aedh were here now all would be well.”

Soon enough, Aedh appeared, his head erect, his feathers dry and radiant. He jumped up onto the rock and nestled against Finnola’s breast.

“You think this a bad night, brothers,” said Finnola, “but we shall have many more like it upon the stormy Sea of Moyle.”…

*

*

to be continued…

 

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