And so our people were taken by the barbarians, and made their slaves. We laboured long under their cruel dominion, and powerless we were to prevent their continued crimes. Many were killed outright, or driven to death by the harsh penalties of our captors, and the harsher work they loaded on our shoulders. Some tried to escape, but all failed. In such a way did Tuka and Deon fall, and Caelas, Beroen and Mallach lay beside them in the grave.
Others were not so fortunate; they rose up, and died, and were not laid to rest. Rather, the barbarians left their bodies outside their camps, covered only by leaves and light snow. Wailing, we begged our enslavers to allow us to bury the dead, but were refused. At last Fingeahil was moved to approach the men who were not men. He approached, and was granted an audience with the lord. And Fingeahil spoke to him, saying, "Our people are dead, and yet you do not give them proper burial. You leave them above the ground, and they are carrion. Why do you act so against the law? Nothing good can come of such desecration, and the gods will punish it. Allow us to give their bodies properly to the earth; in such a way you will prove yourselves pious."
But the lord was obstinate, and refused again any burial for the dead. The corpses lay uncovered, and their pollution grew great. The people were anxious at what might befall them, though they had committed no crime. With winter came more snow, and for a time the bodies of the slain were out of sight, and their smell was suppressed. But where the snow touched the fallen, its pure colour grew tainted, and a stain spread over it. Still we wailed, but our keening made the lord only more obstinate, and he had his guards beat us with sticks for our grief. Neobyth spoke then of the gods, and told us that they would release us from this prison, so that we might come once more into freedom.
When Kolino returned to shine upon the world again, as Dagyd played endlessly in his hut, the snows melted. Immediately the stench that had but slumbered during the winter time returned more powerful than ever, and sickness spread. None dare approach the corpses, not man or carrion-beast. Darkness hung in the air, and the winds remained away. Once more Fingeahil approached the lord, and spoke: "This pollution you are causing. Let us bury our dead, and the anger of the gods may be averted. Grant us this, for it is law."
But the lord was stubborn. He would allow no such burial. The miasma grew, until it almost blocked out the sun, though the land grew hotter. Many fell ill and died, of both captives and masters. When Fingeahil approached the lord a third time, the lord was angry. Before our leader could speak, guards seized and bound him. The lord then commanded his execution, and this was done. His corpse was offered to us, and we were allowed to bury him, and this also was done.
But now the pollution had grown great, and covered much of the land. The gods noticed, and were angry that their laws had been contravened. Tir determined to punish all those who lived on the earth, and summoned Belisama to destroy. But Baelis checked her, for he had truly seen that the people were not to blame, but were restrained from acting as was right. Then Tir grew gentle, and looked with kindness of her kin, and stopped the fires. But transgressions must be punished. Starry Yael then stepped down from her castle and brought with her the cold of the north: white snow and frost, and solid ice. With these following behind her, she passed over the land of the barbarians, and they quickly held it in their grip. Where she crossed over mountains, avalanches of snow-boulders tumbled down to the land below; where she crossed rivers, the water became ice, forming moving islands; and where she walked on the plains, the snow fell heavily, and the wind lashed it over the world.
Soon she came to the place where her people were held, and where their captors enjoyed their freedom. And Yael stood among the buildings, and the snow swirled about her white robes, so that she was unseen by all. And there she spoke, telling that a crime had been committed against the gods, and sin was now being purged from the stained land. So it was, for the snow covered the ground, and buildings, and the trees were shrouded in clear ice, and there was no food for any animal, and no heat for any plant; all would fall victim to Yael's icy touch. Then Tir showed the way to her descendants, and they left the white land. Over bare wastes they travelled, and their only food was the birds that Caerogion sent to them in his kindness.
At last they came to a great river, which marked the edge of their captors' lands. Here they stopped, for they could not cross such a mighty flow. Seeing this, Yael breathed on the water, and swiftly ice covered the surface, and the current slowed. Our people gave thanks to the goddess and went onto the ice, which bore their weight with mighty groans, yielding up great sheets of mist which obscured the way. As they crossed, cracks appeared, and some were stranded on the floating ice, which dwindled until, unsupported, they fell into the river; and all of those who died in this way were young, the unmarried sons of great fathers.
Now there arose a dispute among the families. Magh Doach wished to remain near the river, so that when the ice receeded, they might reoccupy the land that they had formerly lived on as slaves. For he thought this the best vengeance for the long suffering, and delighted to see his enemies perish. But Ciuleagharan dissented, for he believed that the gods would not have led them all this way to turn back after such a dangerous crossing. The debate was long, and it was clear that neither speaker was the more eloquent. So Neobyth arose, and requested silence. She said that where there was such disagreement, and when the mind of god was unknown, an answer must be sought by the wise. And Neobyth left the people, and wandered alone into the wilderness, so that she might learn what course was best for her people.
When she had been gone for many days, the people were preparing to divide themselves among the two groups; those who would stay and wait for the ice to recede, and those who would go forward to a new land. There was much disagreement, for some of Ciuleagharan's family wished to remain by the river, and some of Magh Doach's family wished to travel further. Suddenly Ciuleagharan saw a tall horse beyond the light of the evening fires, watching him. The man was much surprised, for they had brought no horses with them on their flight. He went to the horse, and saw that it was indeed a powerful creature, marked by a white ring on its head. But the horse would not let him mount it, and instead trotted some distance away, still watching him. Ciuleagharan went after it, and again it retreated, further away from the light of the fires. Once more he followed, and once more it moved away. Then Ciuleagharan returned to the camp and said to his people, "I have seen a sign from the gods, and it will lead us to a new land. There need be no kin-strife, and we shall all be free. Let us now depart, for it is not by chance that this aid has arrived now."
Therefore our people collected their belongings and extinguished the fires. Led by Ciuleagharan, they followed the divine horse throughout the night, and for many days and nights after. Invigorated by the thought of freedom, and a land of their own, they barely needed rest, and covered much ground in their journeying.
On their way they passed through many different lands, but all of them seemed dead, as if ravished, though plants and animals lived there. Other humans they saw there too, but they were rough and wild, and of small stature. They held the people in awe, and rarely approached; some left them gifts, but the old woman Rialla told the people not to touch this food.
After much time, they came to a high place in the mountains. Here they stopped, tired at last. And like this it was: behind them they see the place they had left: still the cold white covers all. Ahead is a dangerous track around high peaks. The people make their camp; when Kolino the sun arrives again they prepare to continue their journey over the mountains. But when they have arisen, the horse does not move forward along the path. Rather it enters a dark cave in the cliff, and the people follow. The air is black, and there seems to be no end to the cave, for the horse has moved ahead until almost out of sight. And many now begin to fear this passage, and ask why they should go this way when they already have a path to follow. Then the horse vanishes in the darkness, and many are disheartened. They start to leave the cave, but Ciuleagharan calls to them, asking them why they did not wish to go on as they had been shown.
These reply that they do not undertake a journey which would take them away from their gods, the sun, moon, and the living earth. Even the divine horse, they say, has gone, and no longer leads us. And Ciuleagharan tells them that the horse has helped them as much as it can, and that the people must now be strong and brave, and go forth without a present guide.
To which they say that it is not brave to do such a thing, but foolish; and further that they are the brave ones, who will now go and vie with the mountain path and strike out to a land where they can return to the old ways.
The people are once again divided, and for a long while the families align themselves with the two factions. Some are loyal to Ciuleagharan, while others decid to take the mountain way with Magh Doach. But among them are also those who grieve at this parting, and say that only evil will come of it. These ones decide to remain at this cave, and await the return of both groups, so that later they may be reunited and journey on together.
And so with many tears, for the families were sundered, the followers of Magh Doach took their leave of Ciuleagharan and the Du Maid (meaning "those who remain"), and went out into the light, to journey over the mountains. And when they reached the track, Magh Doach cried out, saying that he saw a mighty bear ahead, and that here was a sign that all would be well. But the Tualfehn (meaning the followers of the horse) could not see this vision, and turned to face the darkness. Thus did the Tualfehn and the Auinfehn (meaning the followers of the bear) parted ways, and they have not met again.
Ciuleagharan led his people further into the cave, and as he walked out ahead, he became obscured from the rest, and as all continued forward, so those behind could not see those in front. Each was left alone with the darkness. The sounds of others they could hear, the footsteps of their companions, but distorted by echoes and seeming often to come from strange directions. The Tualfehn continued thus, and they had no leader and no followers, and none - even Ciuleagharan - could see the horse.
For a long time they travelled thus, alone except for the hazy sound of each one's fellows. Some became dispirited, and stopped walking; and when they could no longer hear anything but their own breathing, they could not move even if they wished, and perished. Most, however, were steadfast, and did whatever they could to keep up, and believed. Even then the road was a hard one, and its length made all weak and breathless.
When all but the most stout-hearted were flagging, the blackness lifted from their eyes; they had left the tunnel, and its mouth was closed behind them. They saw ahead of them down-sloping hills, covered for many miles around by thick forest. All rejoiced, for here they saw the land promised to them. The Tualfehn started forward, seeking places suitable for staying. They sought out streams, and flat ground; the women set about finding food, and the men began the task of building homes. All was activity and excitement. For some time it continued in this manner: homes were built, the land around explored, and crafts were revived. The people were glad that they had found such a beautiful land, for so it was. The trees were tall and strong, the land green, and the rivers clear and swift. Here too they had the blessing of the gods, for many spirits they met, and they were not hostile.
When the people were settled, and children had been born that had never known slavery, Ciuleagharan felt content, and he gave his thanks to the gods, and especially to that one which had led them to this place. And from this time all children born free are made known of this gift; when a child becomes useful, the hands are bound together then cut free during the ceremony. And Ciuleagaharan presided with joy over the marriages of his three eldest sons, who had taken as their brides the daughters of a mighty spirit who dwelt in a mighty river; and this river was called Muanna, which means fortunate.
At this time a figure approached their homes from beneath the trees. The people gathered around, and they saw that it was Neobyth, who had wandered into the wilderness so long ago. Raising a cry, they gave her food and a place by the fire, and waited to hear her tale. But Neobyth immediately began to talk in a loud voice, so that even the heavens might hear her.
"Why have you stayed on your path? What disaster has struck that you no longer go forward on the appointed road? Have your leaders been killed, so that you no longer know the way? That is not enough; it is required that all must walk, for only so might any of you reach the land kept for you."
The people were astounded by these words, and started to cry out, but Neobyth continued in a louder voice, and did not allow them to speak. "You may not remain here, though your houses are built on its ground. It is not intended for any to live here, unless it be that they have always dwelt within this land's borders. I know this, who led you to this place, and it is against my will that you have dallied here this long."
Now she fell quiet, and the people clamoured, speaking without order against Neobyth. For they were happy in this land, and had settled here; the thought of leaving their new homeland was difficult, for they were still weary from their journeying, and glad to be at rest. Neobyth listened to their complaints without expression, and when the voices had died down she called out once more.
"Ciuleagharan, Ciuleagharan, rise up and stand before your people! For they are your children, and you are their father. It is your place to lead them onwards, as you have done before, and to take them from here. Stand, Ciuleagharan, and provide your example to these others!"
But Ciuleagharan was also weary, and he was pleased with this land. He had his own home, and could sleep in comfort and safety. So he did not stand, and remained hidden. For a long while Neobyth waited in silence; then she called out again.
"Ciuleagharan, Ciuleagharan, rise up and stand before your people! You are their leader, and they are your followers. Take them onwards, and they will follow you, and the road will be known to you. Stand, Ciuleagharan, and provide your example to these others!"
But Ciuleagharan thought of his married sons, and how happy they were with their wives. They would soon have their own children, and they would not wish to leave to go on any far journey. So he did not stand, and remained hidden. For a long while Neobyth waited in silence; then she called out again.
"Ciuleagharan, Ciuleagharan, rise up and stand before your people! You are their hope, and they are your people. Lead them on the right road, and they will reach a new land with you. There you shall be able to rest, and there you will be in accord with the gods. Stand, Ciuleagharan, and provide your example to these others!"
And Ciuleagharan was filled with purpose, and he saw that Neobyth was wise. He wished to pay due reverence to the gods, and obey their commands. So he stood, and called out to Neobyth, "I am here, Neobyth, and I will take my people on this road, wherever it may lead us. But I shall not force those who do not wish to follow; I am a leader but not a herder."
And Neobyth grew grave, and replied, "It is not given to me to see the future, but I think you act unwisely in this matter. There are those who will not be swayed by your departure, and will remain here. This shall be the cause of great sadness; this requires no prophesy, for any separation is a reason for grief, and its consequences more so. For look upon this world, and see its ways, how it was and is. But I cannot change your mind." And Neobyth was silent.
The wise woman's words were true enough, for some of the people did refuse to leave their new homes; and among them were Ciuleagharan's eldest sons. This parting was no less sad than when the Auinfehn went their separate way, for once more families were sundered.