# Heroes of the dawn/The House of the Phantoms

illustrator: Beatrice Elvery
THE HOUSE OF THE PHANTOMS
Many strong bands of sea-robbers had landed in different places on the shores of Munster, and were plundering, and sometimes slaying, the inhabitants of the villages they came to. Eoghan, the King of Munster, finding that his own soldiers were unable to cope successfully with the hardy sea-pirates, sent an urgent message to Fionn, imploring him to go with some of his Fians and drive the foreigners out of Munster.
This message pleased Fionn, for he was never happier than when defending his country, or putting an end to injustice and wrong. Without delay he called together a number of his warriors and started off, and before many days had passed they had driven the marauders away. When the fighting was all over the ​king entertained Fionn and his men with hunting and horse-racing, and the evening of each day closed with a great banquet. At the conclusion of the Fians' visit the king gave them presents of gold and silver cups, inset with precious stones, and much gold and silver too; but to Fionn he gave a stately black horse, with bridle and head-piece of golden chain-work, from which hung little musical golden bells.
"There is no horse in Ireland so swift as Black Flame," said the king, stroking the proudly arched neck; "indeed in the whole world, except the wave-stepping steed of Manannan, there is none to surpass him, for he is descended from the horses of the Sidhe. I prize him more than all else I possess, but because of the service you have rendered me, O Fionn, I would not give you less than the best I have."
"The care and love you have given him he shall not lack from me," said Fionn simply. "Will you come with me, Black Flame?" he asked, taking the bridle in his hand, and the horse, as though it understood Fionn's words, ​looked at him for a moment, then rested its head on his shoulder.
But Oisin and Caeilté, who were very proud of their own horses, that were swift as the wind that blew from the Island of Youth and swept down from the mountain heights, doubted whether the black horse would prove himself swifter than theirs. So Fionn said:
"Come now with me to the sands of Berramain on the western coast, and we will race our horses against each other, and decide which is the best."
The Fians went quickly through the woods and plains and over the mountain passes till they came to the strand, and Black Flame won all the races which were run, and at the close still remained untired. Afterwards the Fians broke up into small parties and went hunting in different directions. But Fionn and Caeilté and Oisin proceeded southwards, galloping onwards on their tireless horses, until they were many miles distant from their comrades. Finally they reached a valley near Loch Lein, dark withyew trees and encircled by high mountains. The night was falling, ​they were hungry and tired, and heavy thunderclouds began to gather on the hill-tops, while vivid flashes of lightning illumined the darkening valley they were in.
"We should seek shelter, father," said Oisin. "Our horses are tired and need rest. For my part, I should like some supper and to be out of the storm when it breaks."
Fionn looked round him and said:
"I know this place well, and we shall find no shelter here. But if we cross the hills to the south we shall come to a house, and the man who lives in it will give a hearty welcome to both us and our horses."
As Fionn spoke the valley was tilled with light for a moment, and Caeilté exclaimed:
"There is a house at the end of the valley. I saw the light gleam on it just now. It looks a poor place, but the owner will doubtless be glad to give shelter and food to the great chief of the Fianna. Let us hurry, for our horses do not like the crashes of thunder or the lightning flashes."
They galloped their horses across the glade to the house, and dismounting, opened the ​door without ceremony. As they entered the room—which was dimly lit by a single torch and appeared to be empty—the most dreadful howls and screeches seemed to rise from the floor and fill every corner. Caeilté said:
"Surely this is the abode of demons. Let us go hence. It will be no new thing for us to sleep under the shade of the trees, or go supperless to our rest."
But Fionn turned to Caeilté and said:
"The Fians never yet turned their backs on demons or men, and not now will they begin. It is not like you, son of Ronan, to have fear because of a few little howls."
"It is not the seen I fear to grapple with, but the unseen," said Caeilté. "By my spear, here is something visible at last."
Both he and Oisin pointed with their spears to the middle of the floor, and Fionn turned to look. There, before him, stood three figures: one a tall man, with tangled grey hair and beard—the ugliest man he had ever seen; and by his side stood a grim old woman with three heads, and each of the heads was yelling most horribly. But the third figure
THERE BEFORE HIM STOOD THREE FIGURES
​was more appalling than the other two, for it was the body of a man without a head, and in the middle of his breast a single eye rolled and turned about, and shone with a dull green glare.
Fionn, however, was in no way frightened by these dreadful looking beings, and inquired:
"What manner of people are you who show no pleasure when the chiefs of the Fianna visit you? It is the custom of the houses throughout Ireland to receive us with songs of greeting; with tables laden with venison and the flesh of the wild boar, and great flowing bowls of ale. But you have only howls and wails for us, and an empty board."
The old grey man laughed, and said, as he locked and barred the door:
"It is not sweet songs and feastings you will get here, O Fionn. Many a day we have waited for you, and woven enchantments to get you in our power, and take vengeance for a wrong you, though perhaps unknowingly, did to one of our race. But I remember now one little song we can give you before you die, for we shall certainly kill ​you and your companions before the morning breaks." He stopped for a moment, and then called out: "Ho, my little children of the underworld, rise from your dark places and give greetings to the kingly heroes of the Fianna."
The torch flickered and died out, but the room was filled with strange coloured lights that danced and moved about as though held by invisible hands; and by the aid of this light the astonished Fians beheld nine bodies without heads rise up through the floor on one side of the cottage, and on the other side nine heads without bodies appeared, and vague shadowy forms moved in the air about them. When Fionn saw all these dreadful phantoms he held his shield firmly before him, and drew his magic spear—a weapon forged long ages before by some ancient armourer of the Sidhe, who put a song of war and unfailing death in its shining blade.
"Sing now, my little ones, and put the enchantment of your song on these chiefs of the Fianna," muttered the grey old man.
At his bidding the phantoms began to howl ​and wail and scream, and all the wild animals of the woods and hills hid where the sound could not reach them. The horses broke loose and ran away in terror—all but Black Flame, who, knowing that his master was in peril, beat on the heavily-barred door with his hoofs, splintering it into fragments, and screaming with rage rushed over the threshold to stand by Fionn's side. Fear touched even the heroes' hearts, but they called on their gods to strengthen them, and held their spears and shields ready for the attack of the demons.
Now in the darkness of that enchanted house a fierce fight began. The grey old man wove spells to weaken the heroes' limbs, while the phantoms attacked them on every side with weapons cast in that dark underworld from whence they came. Sometimes the battle would go hardly with the Fians, and then they would call on Lugh Lam-Fada and the Mor Riga, who would strengthen their weary arms, and make their hearts glow with a new courage.
All through the night the battle raged, and the howls of the phantoms, when they were ​struck by Fionn's magic spear, and the screaming of Black Flame, as with teeth and hoofs he tried to tear and trample the weird spirits to death in his endeavours to defend his master, echoed wildly over the hills. Then, to the joy of the Fians, the pale light of dawn shone through the broken door, dispersing the darkness of the hut, and at that moment both house and phantoms disappeared from sight. But over Fionn and his comrades, exhausted and weary, a dense cloud of sleep fell, and they woke only when the sun was high in the heavens, and they heard the birds singing and their horses neighing round them.