The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends by Peter Berresford Ellis Page B

am Cian the enduring, the son of Cainte, and the father of Lugh
of the Long Hand, the punishment that shall be exacted will be great. Even the weapons with which you kill me shall cry out in horror at this deed.”
    Brían thought for a while, for it was true that Cian was one of the Children of Danu. Then he smiled sneeringly at Cian. “Then it shall not be with weapons you will be killed, but
with stones of the earth.”
    So saying, he threw aside his weapons and picked up some stones and hurled them in hate at Cian. He was joined by his brothers and stone after stone flew until Cian was a
disfigured and unrecognisable mess of a man. Then the brothers dug a grave and buried the battered body. But six times the earth refused to cover the corpse before, at the seventh time of burying,
the earth accepted the body.
    Yet as Brían and his brothers rode away, they heard a voice calling from beneath the earth: “The blood is on your hands, sons of Tuirenn, and there it will remain until we meet
again.”
    The sons of Tuirenn distinguished themselves in the great Battle of the Plain of Towers, in which Bres and the Fomorii were defeated. But everyone remarked that Cian was absent
from the battle, which was strange, as it was Cian’s own son who had taken over the leadership of the Children of Danu when Nuada had been killed by the Fomorii, Balor of the Evil Eye. So,
after a fruitless search, Lugh Lámhfada finally came to the Plain of Muirthemne and, as he was travelling across it, the stones of the earth started to speak.
    “Here lies the body of your father Cian! Killed by the sons of Tuirenn. Blood on their hands, until they meet with Cian again!”
    Lugh had his father’s body disinterred and he called his companions together, that they might see how the deed was done. And Lugh swore vengeance. Lugh sang a lament over the body:
    Cian’s death, death of a great champion,
    Has left me as a walking corpse
    Without a soul,
    Without strength, without power,
    Without a feeling for life.
    The Sons of Tuirenn have killed him
    Now my hatred will come against them
    And follow them to the ends of the world.
    And Lugh buried his father’s body with all pomp and ceremony and went back to the great hall of Tara, wherehe summoned all the people. Even the sons
of Tuirenn were among them but Lugh kept his counsel. Instead, he asked those among the gods what they would do to take vengeance on those who had, with malice, slaughtered their fathers.
    Each of the gods suggested ways, increasingly more horrible and more bloody, as a means of punishment. And when the last of them had spoken, the assembly roared its approval. Lugh saw that the
sons of Tuirenn, not wishing to be conspicuous in the throng, were also applauding.
    Then Lugh, with a scowl on his usually sunny countenance, spoke up. “The murderers of Cian have condemned themselves, for they have joined in the agreement of you all as to their
punishment. But I am merciful. I will not spill blood in Tara. I claim the right to put an eric fine on the murderers. If they refuse to accept it, then they must meet me, one after the
other, in bloody single combat at the door of Tara’s Hall.”
    All the while he spoke he was looking at the sons of Tuirenn.
    Then Brían moved forward. “It is known there was enmity between us and your father and his brothers Cú and Céthen. Your words seem addressed to us, but Cian was not
killed by any weapons of the sons of Tuirenn. Nevertheless, to show that we are honourable, each one of us will accept your eric fine.”
    Lugh smiled grimly. “You will not find it difficult. I wish for three apples, the skin of a pig, a spear, two horses and a chariot, seven swine, a hound-pup, a cooking spit and three
shouts to be delivered on a hill.”
    Not only the sons of Tuirenn stood amazed but the entire assembly could not believe their ears at the little Lugh demanded in compensation for his father’s death. The sons of Tuirenn were
visibly