The Tain

In Part 9 Cúchulainn attempts to honor multiple truces and negotiations, but Medb and Ailill demonstrate their dishonesty and render a truce impossible. They are desperate to try to shore up their resources against him, for he is decimating their army. But their dishonesty is always punished with more deaths and more losses. Cúchulainn himself enters into these agreements in good faith but not naively; he can always see through their tricks. In a notable contrast to the other men, while Cúchulainn is tempted by the offer of Finnabair, he is shrewd enough to use caution and approach the “exchange” with skepticism.

This section is the first where Cúchulainn accepts much-needed help, in this case it comes from being from the síde. His “father” from the síde nurtures him well, singing him into a deep, three-day sleep and caring for his wounds. While the apparition does not fight in his place or alongside him, it allows him to rest and rejuvenate while the boys of the boy troop, who are too young to suffer from the “pangs,” come to fill in for Cúchulainn. They fight nobly and are thrice as effective as their enemies, but they are lost in battle and give Cúchulainn an even stronger drive for revenge.

These two events—Cúchulainn’s supernatural healing and the loss of the boy troop—culminate in his first “warp-spasm.” The narrative prepares the audience for this moment with a detailed description of his armor and his charioteer’s armor, which is characterized by hyperbole as he prepares for battle. He wears “twenty-seven tunics of waxed skin” and a belt made of the “hides of seven yearlings” (148), for example, and he is shrouded by a magical cloak given to him by his síde foster father. Described in great, grotesque detail, he undergoes a transformation that only he could withstand, for the spasm that twists his body and causes him to spout a mist of black blood would clearly destroy a normal man. In his newly energized body, Cúchulainn accomplishes the slaughter he is truly capable of, an act again hyperbolized in its efficacy and destruction, while he emerges completely unscathed.

Part 10 opens with a hyperbolic description of Cúchulainn, who is essentially basking in the glory of his feats and letting all the women among the attacking army admire him. The moment is not without humor, as women are climbing on their men’s backs to see him; bards and poets find new inspiration from his figure; and Medb, who is dying to see what he looks like, hides behind her men at first to risk exposing herself to another attack. This moment leads into some tension between Ailill, Fergus, and Medb, who are all under the pressure of facing such an impressive warrior.

The subsequent battles tug on this tension in the alliance between the exiled men of Ulster and Medb and Ailill’s forces. It begins with insults between Fergus, representing the exiled Ulstermen, and Medb and Ailill, who question his usefulness to their mission. Throughout The Táin Fergus walks a fine line between being helpful and undermining their mission, sometimes figuring as a neutral go-between for Cúchulainn and the armies, but more often than not seeking to preserve the life of all Ulstermen. While he is allied to the Connacht armies, he is still fiercely loyal to his tribesmen and severely reprimands Dubthach for wishing ill on their own people.

Fergus has been helping Cúchulainn throughout the journey, and he acts more as an imbedded agent for Ulster than a true ally to the four armies of Ireland. Battles between cousins and warriors trying to come to an agreement end in bloodshed and death, except the brief meeting between Fergus and Cúchulainn. For Fergus, who was tricked into agreeing to fight, Cúchulainn accepts a small defeat, yielding to his foster father and letting the army pass. Their connection as Ulstermen and family takes precedence over the politics of their kings, and this yield will be returned at a crucial moment in the final battle.

This loyalty helps again when further trickery from Medb and Ailill’s allies threaten to destroy Cúchulainn. Even when he is largely outnumbered, Cúchulainn survives. But he is not infallible, and Fergus sends aid when he knows the attack will be too much. While the army attempts to overwhelm him, Fergus finds a way to help from afar, sending Fiacha to help Cúchulainn in the nick of time. These machinations behind the scenes give Cúchulainn the advantage he needs to hold off an enormous army and “unfair fight” by himself (167).

Cúchulainn’s fight with Ferdia in Part 11 marks a turning point in The Táin, for it is his last single-combat battle before the Ulstermen rise from their pangs. It is also the most emotionally difficult battle for Cúchulainn, for he is driven by honor and obligation to fight Ferdia, and he regrets it deeply. The wounds he sustains, both physically and emotionally, keep him from fighting until the end of the tale, when he finally puts an end to the conflict.

Kinship is a central conflict in this part of The Táin, where both men forget and remember their bond of brotherhood. Both men trained with Scáthach and formed a blood bond, which Laeg reminds Cúchulainn of after it is too late to avoid combat. If Cúchulainn’s weakness is forgetting, Ferdia’s is pride, for the strength of their bond is undermined by Medb’s trickery when she convinces Ferdia to fight his foster brother by threatening his honor, twice. First, she threatens to send bards and poets to mock him, and then she falsely claims Cúchulainn mocked Ferdia’s cowardice. He accepts the challenge and heads into battle against Cúchulainn. Through Fergus’s eyes, the outcome of this battle is a toss-up, with both men perfectly matched opponents.

At the beginning of the combat, they are like two sides of the same coin; Ferdia is Cúchulainn’s equal in talent and strength, except for one feat that is crucial for his defeat (the gae bolga). Indeed, Ferdia performs “a thousand thrilling feats on high” (193) just at the thought of his opponent, and this is answered by Cúchulainn at the thought of Ferdia. As they continue to fight, they get closer and closer, until they seem so close that they could physically merge. However, as their combat continues, their friendship and physical strength deteriorates. This can be seen in their post-combat rituals, which begin with shared resources among their servants and the combatants but ends with each camp distancing itself from the other.

Their proximity ultimately ends their fight, as Ferdia’s blow to Cúchulainn’s chest leaves him with no choice but to use the gae bolga. Their reproaches to one another reflect their profound sadness to fight one another, as Cúchulainn says, “My bosom friend / and heart’s blood, / dear above all, / I am going to miss you” (184). These laments continue after Ferdia’s death, as Cúchulainn remembers their time together and their blood pact. But it is too late, and his repeated refrain—“All play, all sport, / until Ferdia came to the ford” (204)—marks the shift for Cúchulainn. The battle was personal, and his victory barely a victory at all.