THE STAR-EYED DEIRDRE 
In olden days, when many Kings reigned throughout the Green Island of Erin, none was greater than the great Concobar. So fair was his realm that poets sang its beauty, and such the wonder of his palace that the sweetest songs of Erin were of its loveliness.
In a castle of this fair realm dwelt Felim, a warrior and harper dear unto the King. And it was told him that Concobar with his chief lords would visit the castle.
Then Felim made a feast, and there was great rejoicing, and all men were glad.
But in the midst of the feast an old magician, who was of those that had come with the King, stood up before the great gathering. Long and white was the hair that fell upon his bent shoulders, black were the eyes that gazed into space from beneath his shaggy eyebrows.
'Speak,' said the King to the old man, 'speak, and tell us that thou seest, for well we know thou piercest the veil that hideth from us the secrets of the morrow.'
Silently and with great awe did all the company look at the wise old man, for those things that he had already foretold had they not come to pass?
The magician, also silent, looked from the face of one to the face of another, but when his eyes fell on Concobar, the King, long did they dwell there, and when he lifted them, on Felim did they rest.
Then the Wise Man spake:
'This night, O Felim the Harper, shall a girl-babe be born to thee within these castle walls. Loveliest among the lovely shall thy star-eyed daughter be; no harp-strings shall yield such music as her voice, no fairy strains pour forth such wonder-stirring sound. Yet, O Felim, in days to come, because of this fair child shall great sorrow come upon our King Concobar and upon all his realm. In those days shall Erin's chief glory perish, for if the House of the Red Branch fall, who shall stand?'
Then did a cry of fear burst from those gathered to the feast, and leaping to their feet, each man laid his hand upon his sword, for the word that the wise man had spoken would it not come to pass?
'Let our swords be in readiness,' they cried, 'to kill the babe that shall be born this night, for better far is it that one child perish than that the blood of a nation be spilt.'
And Felim spake: 'Great sorrow is mine that fear of the child who shall be born this night should be upon you. Therefore, if it please the King, let my daughter die, and so may peace yet reign in the realm. For dear as would be a child to my wife and to me, dearer yet is the common weal.'
But the answer of King Concobar came not for a time. His soul was filled with desire to see the star-eyed maiden and to hear the wonder of her voice. Still was the hand of each upon his sword when the King spake.
'Put far from thee, O Felim, the will to do this thing. Bend not thy mind to the death of thine own child. And ye, my people, sheathe your swords.
Let the babe live. I, Concobar, will be her guardian, and if ill befall, let it be upon me, your King.'
At these words arose a Prince.
'It would be well, O King, but for the word spoken by the Wise Man, for hath he not said, "Because of this fair child shall great sorrow come upon the King Concobar"? If we let the babe live, then must thy people see thee in sore distress, for the word that the Wise Man speaketh, shall it not come to pass?'
'Of that am I not unmindful. Deep within the forest, beyond the Moor of Loneliness, shall her childish days be spent. Gently tended shall she be, but the eye of man shall not behold her, and solitary shall she live as some unmated bird in distant wilderness.'
Then with one accord did the people cry, 'Wilt thou indeed be guardian to this child, knowing the ill that the Wise Man hath foretold?'
'Yea, truly will I be guardian to the child, and when she be a woman then shall she be my wedded wife. And if with the maiden come sorrow, then be that sorrow upon me, and not upon the land.'
'What sayest thou, O Felim the Harper?' cried the people.
'It were better to slay the child than to let that come which hath been foretold.'
'And what sayest thou, O Wise Man?'
'That which shall come, shall come.'
At the same moment there entered the hall a servant of Felim, and loudly did he proclaim that the girl-babe, who had been foretold, was born.
'Right beautiful and strong is the child, most fair to look upon.'
'And Deirdre shall her name be,' said the Wise Man, 'Deirdre the Star-eyed.'
And because of the words that the King Concobar had spoken, the life of the babe was spared, and when the days of feasting were past, Concobar returned to his palace, and with him he took the infant child and her mother. Yet after a month he bade the mother return to Felim her husband, but the babe Deirdre he kept.
And deep within the forest, beyond the Moor of Loneliness, did the King command that a cottage be built, and when Deirdre was one year, thither was she sent with a trusted nurse. But on the trees of the forest and throughout the land was proclaimed the order of the King Concobar, that whosoever should hunt, or for other purpose enter the wood, death should be his portion.
Once each week did the King visit the fair babe, and daily were stores of food and milk brought to the lone dwelling. And Deirdre each year grew more fair, but none beheld her beauty, save her nurse, her tutor, and Lavarcam.
This Lavarcam was a woman well trusted of the King, and she alone went to and fro between the palace and the cottage. It was she who told to Deirdre the old tales of knights and ladies, of dragons and of fairies that dwelt in the Enchanted Land.
When Deirdre was seven years old the King no longer came every week to the forest, but twice in the year only, and that as the Spring put forth her first green shoots, and again when Autumn gleaned her harvest of gold.
And when another seven years had sped, then came not the King thither, either when the earth was green or golden, nor in the blue summer nor the hoary winter, but from Lavarcam he heard that it was well with the maid.
One white winter's morning Deirdre looked from her window, and saw lying in the snow a calf. It had been killed by her nurse to provide food for the little household, and its bright red blood dyed the thick-lying snow.
As Deirdre watched the flow of the scarlet stream, a raven, black as night, flew down and drank of the warm blood. Then Deirdre smiled.
'Where are thy thoughts, fair child?' asked Lavarcam, entering the room.
'Only did I think,' said Deirdre, 'that if a youth could be found whose skin was white as snow, his cheek crimson as that pool of blood, and his hair black as the raven's wing, him could I love right gladly.'
Then Lavarcam spake: 'Such a man have I seen, and one only.'
'His name, Lavarcam, his name?' cried Deirdre. 'Whence comes he, and wherefrom he be found?'
'The fairest of three fair brothers is this Nathos, the son of Usna, and now is he with Concobar the King.'
And Deirdre would thereafter think of none but Nathos, and Lavarcam was much troubled because of the words that she had spoken. And when Deirdre longed grievously by day and night to see this Nathos of whom she had heard, Lavarcam thought of a plan whereby she might end the maiden's dream.
One day, as she came from the palace of the King, she met on the Moor of Loneliness a swineherd and two shepherd lads. And well though she knew that none might enter the forest, she led them to a well in its leafy depths. Then said this woman trusted of the King, 'Wait here by this well until the jay cry and the hill-fox bark. Then move slowly on your way, but speak to none whom ye may meet, and when ye leave the wood let not your lips tell those things ye shall have seen and heard.'
With these words Lavarcam left the three men, and entered the cottage.
'Come, Deirdre,' she cried, 'the crisp snow glistens in the sunshine. Let us wander forth.'
And Deirdre came, and dreamily she trod where Lavarcam led. Of a sudden the older woman left her side, and bent as though she would gather a woodland flower. At the same moment was heard the cry of the jay and the bark of the hill-fox. Then came Lavarcam to the maiden's side.
'Passing strange is it,' said Deirdre, 'to hear the jay cry and the hill-fox bark while yet the snow lies thick.'
'Heed not strange sounds, fair Deirdre, but cast thine eyes toward yonder well.'
And as Deirdre gazed she saw, as in a dream, the forms of three men come slowly through the forest.
'These, Deirdre, are men,' said Lavarcam.
'Yet seem they not as the men I have seen ride by across the Moor of Loneliness, for they were fair to look upon, but mine eyes have no pleasure in beholding these strange forms.'
'Yet you look upon Nathos, for these men are none other than the three sons of Usna.'
Deirdre started. 'Idle are your words, false Lavarcam. Yonder walks not a man with skin white as snow, with cheek crimson as blood, nor with hair black as the raven's wing. You lie!' And the maid made haste, and she reached the men, and stood before them.
Amazed at her exceeding beauty, they gazed in silence. 'Tell me if ye be the sons of Usna. Speak!'
But in wonder at the loveliness of the maiden, and in fear of the anger of Lavarcam, the men were dumb.
'Speak!' she again cried. 'If indeed ye be Nathos and his brothers, then truly hath Concobar the King my pity.'
At these words the swineherd could no longer keep silence.
'It is thy exceeding beauty that telleth us that thou art that Deirdre whom the King hideth in this forest. Why mock us by asking if we are the fairest of Concobar's nobles? Clearly canst thou see we are but men of the hills, I a poor swineherd, and these men shepherds.'
'Then wilt thou, swineherd, for truly do I believe thy words, get thee to the sons of Usna, and say to Nathos the eldest, that in the forest beyond the Moor of Loneliness, Deirdre awaits his coming. Tell him that to-morrow, an hour before the setting of the sun, he will find her by this well.'
'If it be known that I so break the law of the King, I die, yet will I go right gladly.'
Then Deirdre left the men, and walked slowly after Lavarcam. And Lavarcam would fain have known what Deirdre had told the swineherd, but the girl told her nought, and was in a dream all that day and all the morrow.
It was in the wane of the morrow that Lavarcam went forth to take counsel of the King. And Deirdre ran with great speed to the well, but no man was there, and she waited long, but none came.
While Deirdre waited by the well, Lavarcam came near to the King's palace.
And lo! there, on the ground before her, lay the dead body of the swineherd. Thus was it made known to Lavarcam that in some wise Concobar the King had heard that the swineherd had spoken with Deirdre.
Therefore Lavarcam went not to the palace, but turned aside to the camp of the sons of Usna. And Nathos came out to her, and she told him of the loneliness of the fair Deirdre and of her longing to see him.
Then said Nathos, 'But it may not be yet awhile, for Concobar found that the fair Deirdre had spoken with the swineherd, and for that cause lies he yonder, a dead man.'
'Yet tarry not long, for if thou wouldst hunt in the forest, beyond the well, then surely wouldst thou see Deirdre the Star-eyed, and none should know.'
Seven days passed, and Deirdre roamed in the wood dreaming her dream, when of a sudden there came an unknown sound. Ah, could it be the hunting-horn of which Lavarcam had spoken in her tales of chase? The maiden paused. The horn ceased. Nathos had left the hunt and wandered through the glade.
There, against a background of blue haze, encircled by a network of blossoming blackthorn, shone forth the fairest vision mortal eye had beheld.
Speech tarried as Nathos gazed spell-bound.
At length the maiden questioned, 'Nathos, son of Usna, what wouldst thou?'
'Strange is it that thou shouldst know my name, most fair. No mortal art thou. Fain would I enter yonder cottage, did I but dare, and speak with the daughter of Felim the Harper. Yet it is death should the King know of my desire.'
'I am that Deirdre whom thou seekest, and if I be fair in thine eyes, it pleaseth me well. It is for thee I have watched long, for is not thy skin white as snow, thy cheek crimson as blood, and thy hair black as the raven's wing? Lonely are my days in this place, where none dwells save my nurse, my tutor, and Lavarcam.'
Never did harp-strings yield such music as her voice, never did fairy strains pour forth such wonder-stirring sound.
'Art thou indeed Deirdre the Star-eyed, and is it that King Concobar keepeth thee here like some caged bird?'