Myths of Gods and Goddesses in Britain and Ireland by Sharon Jacksties

Author:Sharon Jacksties
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The History Press

FĀSTER THĀN HORSES

There was a widower whose lands were extensive but at a distance from everyone else. There he lived and farmed with his motherless sons. Maybe he was a good farmer, maybe he kept the balance between what his family and the wild places needed – he never knew the reason for his visitor, but there she was.

Silently, one twilight, the woman stood on his threshold. He hadn’t heard her approaching, he hadn’t seen which direction she came from, she was suddenly just there. All he knew about her was that she was not of his world. He was too astonished to be frightened as she stared at him with huge dark eyes. Without knowing, he had risen to his feet and there they stood, two worlds meeting, no time passing until, full of wonder, he stepped aside and that movement was her invitation to enter. No words passed between them as he watched her move about the place, knowing where everything was, how to set things right, how to transform a house into a home. When his sons came in, lantern lit from the deepening dark, it was as though their mother had never left them.

Together they lived as a family as though that was how they had always been – except that now everything they turned a hand to prospered and increased. Their crops were the heaviest in the land, the ewes all produced twin lambs, the cows, twin calves and the mares, twin foals. The woman rarely spoke, so when she did she was listened to. Her voice seemed to come from far away; it had an echo to it, like a voice thrown into a well or speech in a cave.

‘Macha, my name is. Macha, the plain that bears the most fertile land. The plain with the gentle curves where horses can race the wind that blows so freely.’

Time passed without notice but there came a day when there was to be a great fair nearby. It seemed that everyone of any importance from the whole of Ulster would be there. The place would be heaving with stalls and entertainments from blacksmiths to bardic contests and chariot races. Even the king himself would be there. Macha showed no inclination to attend but her husband was eager to be off – he would never have seen such an exciting gathering. As he was about to leave, there she was on the threshold again with that dark look of hers. Her hands moved to her belly, swelling now with new life. She said but one thing to him before she stepped aside to let him pass, ‘Have a guard on your tongue. Don’t let it gallop away with you.’

He left, still listening to the echo of her words. Perhaps they went too deep for him to recall them, for he was soon caught up in the excitement, his head swirling with the new wonders of the day, that stretched into others, each with its different delights. Then

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