Rolan Fáthach (Person)

**Narrative**

In the narrative – father of Findchoem. High King of Airthialla.

Marries Rosella

Story Excerpt - Death of Fachtna

Fachtna's army, forty thousand men strong, reached the battle ground before noon. The opposing armies of Fergus and the High King of Laigin, Eochu, were already spread across the opposite hillside. Scounts estimated their numbers at close to eighty-six thousand. Three hundred feet of no man's land stretched between them.

Fergus and his army planned to wait for Conchobar's force to arrive. They did not want to fight a protracted battle. They knew if Fachtna's force charged now they would be victorious against the smaller force, however, if Conchobar's forces arrived shortly after they would not be able to properly pivot to the second force, and victory would not be guaranteed. It suited them to wait and fight the full force. The better coordination of their single army would win out against the split forces of the Conchobar and Fachtna.

A cool wind blew across the face of Fachtna and his army, though it did nothing to diminish his boiling blood. The man who had orchestrated the murder of his wife and children was almost in reach. A bloody rage had been building in the man all day and the sight of the Bright Scarlet and Jet Black Banners mixed in with Eochu's Rapeseed Yellow and Vibrant Blue colors was pushing the man past sanity.

"Rorke! RORKE!" He bellowed for his second in command Logan O'Rorke. "Where is that bastard child King? When should he arrive?"

Behind King Fachtna, Rorke was stooping over a map of the battlefield they had stretched over a folding table inside an open air battle tent that had been erected earlier that day. He was flanked on either side by the other captains of the army.

"Sir, the tremendous pace we set in coming to the field put us ahead of Conchobar's army. They are not expected until early afternoon at the earliest. Their scouts have been delivering us detailed information on their whereabouts at regular intervals, there should not be much of a wait."

Fachtna clenched his teeth. "What is preventing Fergus from charging us now and attempting to overwhelm us before Conchobar's lagging forces arrive? That conniving mongrel surely has some plan up his sleeve."

Rorke nodded. "Indeed, if Eochu and Fergus were to charge us we would be at a significant number disadvantage, but open battlefields are where the War Bulls of the Ulaid excel. Fergus and Eochu's forces would be decimated on the flanks if they were to engage us in battle the army of Conchobar arrived. From our viewing of their front lines, they are bristling with pike men. They plan on having the charging bulls break upon their spikes before they engage."

"And what if we were to take the fight to them? What if we were to charge, and have our own forces break upon their pikes. Those pikes would not be much use against our footmen. We would tie them up in battle, and Conchobar's forces could sweep in."

Rorke looked uneasy. "Sir, that is extremely risky and unadvised. We have no way of knowing if Conchobar would arrive before we were surrounded. We would have to draw out the conflict as long as possible, and the chances of them arriving *before* most of our force is slaughtered are very low. When they do arrive it would be too late for us. The battle would no doubt be won by Conchobar's forces, but at a massive cost to our own forces. We would be no more than fodder. I advise we wait for them to join us. We can use their superior mounted units to initiate the battle, and then we can follow behind and clean up."

Fachtna swore, "if that *boy* does not turn up soon we charge. I will not wait another day to slay the man who took my children from me."

Just as he spoke, a fresh faced you man ran up to the Rorke and stood at attention, "Sir, the opposing force are preparing to advance. They have pulled their pikemen back and are readying footmen." The man turned and saw the king, "You.. your majesty," He stammered,  "My apologies for not addressing you directly." The man said and gave a deep bow.

"Stand up straight man," Fachtna barked, "did you say the forces of Fergus and Eochu are approaching?" The man nodded emphatially, "Yes sir, we are preparing our own line for the oncoming charge."

Rorke looked taken aback. He had not expected the Laigin to push forward.

"What are they up to?" He murmured, but King Fachtna spoke over him and addressed the man.

"Well then, assemble the spearmen. Following them will be the cavalry shall ride." Fachtna, looked towards Rorke and his waiting Captains, they had not moved.

Rorke spoke up, "Sir, we should not engage. I do not trust this. There is no battle sense in them engaging so early unless they believe they can defeat us with minimal loses to their own forces. We should retreat."

"I've had enough of your cowardice Rorke," Fachta spat venemously, and he wheeled on his second in command. . "You would try to take my revenge from me? You've been trying to avoid this battle all day. Trying to get Conchobar to fight *my* battle for me! I will not hand the glory of this day to a child. No, fate has conspired to bring this fight to us, it is a sign that we must meet it head on a do our ancestors and our gods proud. Now, *move* before I have the lot of you executed."

. . .

The footmen of the Laigin army marched to the center of the field and, lining their shields up in a defensive formation, with gaps in between for their short swords, they stopped.

The Cloud White and Deep Blue banners of Fachtna's army streamed as his force charged down the slight incline. White and Blue clashed with Yellow and Blue and Black and Red. The spearman of Fachtna's army reached through the gaps in the shields of Eochu's men, and they began to fall. Arrows flew overhead from both sides and the din of battle was deafening. The line of Eochu held fast, but little but little it was pushed back by the spears of Fachtna. The grass and mud was churned by the hooves of Fachtna's cavalry as they waited for a break in the line into which they would stream, swords swinging, and Fachtna would cut a line straight to Fergus, who he could see sitting on a black horse on the other side of the swathe of men.

It seemed that the ferocity of Fachtna's men was too much, after what seemed like no time at all Fergus and Eochu were calling for a retreat, the footmen were falling back further and further and some were already tuning and running.

Fachtna could feel the tide of the battel turning. He swelled with pride at the strength of his men and they pushed the Laigin line back. Suddenly, all of the men of Laigin seemed to be running back, and Fachtna's men streamed after them, Fachtna lead the charge, his cavalry running between the spears of his men to run down the fleeing Laigin men.

Rorke, tied to a pole back at the camp watched in horror. The retreat was a fake. The middle of Eochu's line was falling back and Fachnta's force was pushing forward far too zealously. They did not see that the sides of the army of Eochu were not retreating but were instead pushing forward. What had started out as a convex line was turning concave. If Fachtna did not halt his charge he would be surrounded in no time. Rorke wept as he watched his men ride to their death. Fachtna, fueled by rage would not have the sense to slow his men's assault. Through the chaos of men fighting Rorke could see hooked pikes rise and begin to make their way towards the still charging cavalry. They were designed for pulling men off their horses.

Inside the maelstrom Fachtna was elated. His men pushed deeper and deeper and he was getting closer and closer to Fergus. He lay about him with his sword as his horse sped past the retreating footmen. Suddenly though, it seemed like his force's momentum had stopped.

Fachtna's cavalry circled him protectively as he looked around. When had his army been surrounded? The Laigin men were retreating. It was then that Fachtna understood the trick he had fallen into, and he fell deeper into the dark and murderous rage that had followed him all morning. He did not care how many of his men died, he *would* reach Fergus.

He was falling into their trap perfectly. Out of the mass of Eochu's army Rorke could see wickedly hooked pikes already beginning to pull Fachtna's cavalry from their horses.

Fachtna spurred his horse forward, straight towards Fergus, but at his side he felt the hard iron tug of a hooked pike. He fell from his horse heavily and awkwardly, the wind totally knocked from him. All around him the rest of his cavalry met similar fates. Their own men were being pushed back into each other. Restricting the movements of the horses. His men were being slaughtered from all sides.

His men saw their king fall and formed a circle around him. Fachtna struggled to his feet and looked around for Fergus. All around him his men fell. Pikes had been turned inward and were being used to press the men of Fachtna into a tighter and tighter group. They were so cramped that they couldn't swing their swords or axes and they were jostling each other into the paths of the spears. It was already a massacre.

"Fachtna!" A voice could be heard calling. The push of the pike men halted, and a silence feel over Eochu's men. "Fachtna? Where are you?" Fachtna wheeled to find the source of the voice.

"Fergus, you bastard. Fight me man on man. Stop hiding behind your men!" Fachtna yelled, his voice already hoarse from the cheering he had been doing during his jubilant charge.

The men of the Laigin and Fergus's forced were parting. Fachtna could see Fergus, dressed in his Dark red and black **Aos Si** crafted armor, standing  and waiting for him in a clearing of men.

Fachtna strolled into the clearing, sword pointed at Fergus. "Let us finish this like men. I will finish you right here in front of your dogs, so they may see the fate of men who send assasins to slaughter children in their beds!"

"I see you have been speaking with Neasca." Fergus responded conversationally. "And she had played you like a fine harp, just like she played me. But I will crush you, like the pawn of her will that you are, and then I will cut the throat of her and her bastard child, just like I had the throats of yours cut." Then Fergus then spat on the ground, and his men jeered.

Fachtna let loose and mighty roar, and charged at Fergus then. Their swords clashed as Fachtna hacked viciously at Fergus. So ferocious was Fachnta's onslaught that it seemed like Fergus might crumble under his blows, but like on the field it was a ploy. Fachtna over committed on his swing and Fergus neatly side stepped him and then sliced his blade across the back of Fachtna's kneecap. Fachtna fell to the ground, but Fergus did not go for the killing blow. He put some distance between him and the man and looked up toward the small crest where Fachtna's army had approached from. The Tarbhlaoc of Conchobar's army were positioned there. The reinforcements had arrived, too late.

. . .

King Conchobar stood beside Rorke, and was watching the fight between Fachtna and Fergus. He and Rorke saw Fachtna fall from Fergus's slice to his knee, and the man looked away.

The army of Eochu had consolidated around the meagre remaining forces of Fachtna's army. Halberds bristled on all sides of it, ready for the approaching Tarbhlaoc, the armored bull riders of Conchobar's army. They had once been Fergus' pride and joy, and indeed, a small faction of them who were still loyal to the old King, and stood to the rear of the clearing where Fergus and Fachtna fought.

. . .

Fachtna, struggled to his feet, and faced Fergus again, hopping on his one good leg. "Come at me you bastard, and let us finish this," he yelled in challenge, tearing off his helmet and throwing it to the ground. Fergus strode forward, and Fachtna swung at him but Fegus deflected it easily, and side stepped again, this time kneecaping Factna's remaining leg. The High King of the Murthialla fell to his knees. And Fergus, no wanting to waste any more time, beheaded him in one smooth stroke. Then he looked up towards where Conchobar stood, and pointed his sword at him.

. . .

Conchobar raised his arm to the old King of the Ulaid. And watched him return to his horse. The rest of Fachtna's men were the slaughtered like pigs.

The child King then turned to his guards. "Ensure that this man Rorke survives this battle. I want to know what happened here, in detail. Begin recording his account as soon as possible." The men nodded, and lead Rorke away.

Conchobar looked to the druid Cathbad, who always travelled close to him. "Bannermen, signal the Tarbhlaoc." He said, then to Cathbad, "my mother was correct that Fachtna would not wait for us. We will continue forward with our same plan of attack."

Cathbad smiled and nodded. The bannermen around Conchobar then raised their flags and rotated them 180 degrees. The signal was received and the true battle had begun.

Clipped from: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fachtna\_F%C3%A1thach

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**Fachtna Fáthach** ("the wise"),[1] son of Cas (or Ross), son of Rudraige, was, according to medieval Irish legend and historical tradition, a High King of Ireland. He came to power when he defeated the previous High King, Dui Dallta Dedad, in the battle of Árd Brestine. According to some stories he was the lover of Ness, daughter of Eochaid Sálbuide, king of Ulster, and the father of her son, Conchobar mac Nessa, the king of Ulster in the stories of the Ulster Cycle.[2]

After he had reigned for sixteen or twenty-five years, he paid a visit to Ulster. While he was there, Eochu Feidlech, king of Connacht, raised an army and marched on Tara. With the support of the Ulstermen, Fachtna challenged him to battle. Eochu agreed, and named the battlefield as Leitir Ruad in the Corann, Connacht. During the battle Eochu surrounded and beheaded Fachtna, and became High King in his place.[3]

Time frame

The *Lebor Gabála Érenn synchronises Fachtna's reign with the Roman civil war between Caesar and Pompey (49 BC) and the reign of Cleopatra (51–30 BC).*[4] The chronology of Geoffrey Keating's *Foras Feasa ar Éirinn dates his reign to 110–94 BC,*[5] that of the *Annals of the Four Masters to 159–143 BC;*[6]

Issue

* Conchobar mac Nessa
* Findchóem (wife of Amergin mac Eccit)

References

1. *Dictionary of the Irish Language Compact Edition, Royal Irish Academy, 1990, p. 295*
2. Kuno Meyer, "Anecdota from the Stowe MS. No. 992", *Revue Celtique 6, 1884, pp. 173-186*
3. Margaret C. Dobs (ed. & trans.), "La Bataille de Leitir Ruibhe", *Revue Celtique* 39, 1922, pp. 1-32
4. R. A. Stewart MacAlister (ed. & trans.), *Lebor Gabála Érenn Part V*, Irish Texts Society, 1956, pp. 296-299
5. Geoffrey Keating, *Foras Feasa ar Éirinn* 1.31
6. *Annals of the Four Masters M5041-5057*

Dui Dallta Dedad
LGE 1st century BC
FFE 110–94 BC
AFM 159–143 BC
Eochu Feidlech