Here is the story of the violent death of Aifé's only son, of red branch of the mythology Irish.
The Violent Death of Aifé's Only Son
Why did Cuchulainn kill his son?
It's not difficult.
Cûchulainn had gone to learn weapons from Scathach Uanaind, daughter of Ardgeimm, in Letha, until he had acquired mastery of fencing with her.
Aifé, daughter of Ardgeimm, came to find him; he made her pregnant, and told her that she would bear a son. » Keep this ring, he said, until it goes to your son. When it comes to him, let him come and get me Ireland; May no one divert him from his path, may he not make himself known to anyone and may he refuse single combat to no one! “
The child, on his seventh birthday, went to look for his father.
The Ulates were holding an assembly at Tracht Eisi when they saw the son coming to them across the sea on a bronze boat, golden oars in his hands. He had a pile of stones in the boat; he put a stone in his sling and threw it back at the birds; he took them alive, and released them into the air. He walked around with his palace in his hands, so that the eye could not follow him; he matched his voice to theirs and made them fall a second time, then he revived them once again.
» Well, said Conor, woe to the country where that boy comes! If it were the grown men of the island he came from who came to us, they would grind us to dust, since it is a little boy who is doing these tricks. Let us go to meet him and let him not approach here!
– Who will go to meet him?
- Who ? said Conor, otherwise Condéré son of Echu?
– Why Condéré? said everyone.
“It’s not difficult,” said Conor. If it is a question of reason and eloquence, it is Condéré who is appropriate there.
– I will go to meet him,” said Condéré.
Condéré left and, at the same time, the boy approached the shore. "You are far enough away, my boy," said Condéré, "to tell us where you come from and what your race is.
– I don’t make myself known to anyone, said the young man, and I don’t avoid anyone.
“You will not approach,” said Condéré, “until you have made yourself known.
– I'm going to go back to where I left. » said the young man.
The boy turned around. Then Condéré said to him: “Turn to me, my son: there are great deeds, there are minor goods, pride of the warriors of the Ulates, for you. For Conor protects you... Turn to Conor, the valiant son of Ness; towards Sencha son of Cosera; towards Cethern with the red blade, son of Fintan, fire which damages weapons; towards Amergin the scholar; towards Cumscraid to the large troops. Happy is he whom Conall the Victorious protects... I boast, said Condéré, of going to meet a beardless, immature boy, unless the Ulates do not allow it.
“You did well to come to us,” said the boy; you will have the conversation you want... Go back, said the boy, because even if you had the strength of a hundred men, you are not capable of opposing me.
– It’s good, said Condéré, that someone else should come and talk to you! “
Condéré went to find the Ulates and told them his story. » It will not be said, said Conall the Victorious, that the honor of the Ulates be taken away, as long as I live! » He then went towards the boy. "Your game is pretty, my boy," said Conall.
– It is not against you that he will be uglier. “, said the boy.
He put a stone in his sling. He threw it into the air with a return blow, so that the noise and thunder it made as it rose reached Conall and threw him onto his back. Before he got up, the boy had tied his hands with the strap of his shield. – »Let another go against him! » said Conall. This is how the boy made fun of the army.
However, Cûchulainn was present at this game and he went towards the boy. Emer daughter of Forgall put her arm around his neck: “Don’t go down there,” she said. It's a son of yours who's down there. Do not avenge us on your only son!… It is neither fair nor wise to rise up against your valiant son… Turn to me! Listen to my voice! My opinion is good. May Cûchulainn hear it! I know what name he is going to say, if it is Conla, the only son of Aifé, who is the boy over there,” said the woman.
Then Cûchulainn replied: “Hold on, O woman!… Even if it were he who was there, O woman,” he said, “I would kill him for the honor of the Ulates. “
So he went down himself. "It's pretty, my boy, the game you're playing," he said.
– Your game is not such, said the little boy, that two of you did not come so that I could make myself known to them.
“Should a young boy have come with me?” said Cûchulainn. You'll die if you don't make yourself known. – Well, so be it! » said the boy.
The son throws himself at him. They hit each other. The boy cuts her hair with his sword with a well-delivered blow. » Enough jokes! said Cuchulainn. Let's finally fight.
– I won’t reach for your belt. » said the son.
He climbed on two stones and placed Cuchulainn between two stone pillars three times and the son did not move either of his feet until they were ankle-deep in the stones. The traces of his feet are still there. This is why we say the Shore of the Trace among the Ulates. They entered the sea to drown each other, and the son made him dive twice. Cûchulainn went to him out of the water and treacherously attacked him with the sack javelin (gae bolga – lightning javelin). Scathach had only taught the use of this weapon to Cûchulainn. He throws it against the son, in the water, so that the entrails fall on his feet.
» This, then, said he, is what Scathach did not teach me! Woe to you who hurt me! said the son.
- It's true. » said Cuchulainn.
He takes his son in his arms, takes him from there and carries him until he arrives before the Ulates.
Here is my son before you, O Ulates, he said.
– Alas! replied the Ulates.
“It’s true,” said the son. If I had been among you in five years, I would have conquered the men of the earth in your presence on each side, and you would have had the empire as far as Rome. Since this is so, show me the famous men who are here, so that I can say goodbye to them! “
Then he put his arms around the necks of each of them one after the other; he said goodbye to his father and died immediately.
The funeral lamentation, the grave and the stone were made, and for three days no calves were left to the cows in Ulster as a result of this.
