Fate of the Lir-Brood…

*

Finnola, once my pride and joy

Dark Aedh, of adventures bold

Bright Fiachra, gentle, playful boy

Little Conn, with curls of gold.

*

The Crafty-Ones met to choose their Chieftain.

Five there were in the running…

Red-Bove, Angus-Ever-Young, Ilbrec of Assaroe,

Lir of Finnaha and Midyir Bright-Mane.

Red-Bove won it at Lir’s displeasure.

Lir left the meet in anger without acknowledgment.

The Crafty-Folk swore retribution on him for this insult

but Red-Bove would have none of it:

“I am yet your king whether or not Lir chooses to recognise it.”

*

So things stood for a long while until Lir’s wife died after a three day travail.

Heart-rent was Lir, with the loss, and the ill-news spread across Erin

like wild-fire with many-a-soul suspecting witchery.

Red-Bove called the Crafty-Folk to meet.

“In the wake of this passing my friendship to Lir would be of service

for I foster in my house-hold Aillel-of-Aran’s three daughters.

Eve, Eva and Alva are the cleverest and prettiest maidens in Erin.”

*

The Crafty-Ones agreed the wisdom of this saying.

Messengers were sent to Lir at Finnaha…

*

*

to be continued…