Blood-gloom
I began me next story time for me grandkids thusly...
'The journey to their next destination were at least two day's ride by regular pony but, as I'm sure you're all aware by now, Mac Énbarr were no regular pony. For Beannaithe's fleet-footed steed the ride took a mere moment.
He slowed his pace as he approached a place that were called "Blood-gloom".'
'Oo!' me grandkids eerily said.
'Blood-gloom were a vast swamp filled with the crumblin' ruins of fortresses haunted by the restless spirits of the Big Folk that had once lived there. Makin' her home there were Naruhel, the sister of Goldberry and Willowsong, only Naruhel weren't so friendly as they. Naruhel the Blood-maid she were called.'
'What happened to her?' asked Darwova.
'She were cursed!' I replied.
'Oo!' me grandkids said again.
'I fancy this story already!' said Daibhidh with the sound of perhaps too much delight in his voice.
'Why were the place called "Blood-gloom"?' asked Dooli.
'I were just comin' to that, lad,' I told him. 'It were called "Blood-gloom" because the water were stained red.'
'Were it red from the blood spilt by all the Big Folk that died there?' asked Diolun.
'Aye,' Daibhidh interjected, 'it were the blood that poured out from the bodies of the river-maid's victims as she...'
'That's enough, Daibhidt,' I said. 'We don't want to hear the unpleasant details of the unfortunate folk that died there.'
'Sorry, Granda,' he says, 'I merely...'
'I know what you were "merely" tryin' to do,' I sternly told him. 'Don't!'
'Aye, Granda,' he says.
I waited a moment for everyone, especially meself, to become calm before I continued on with me story.
'Nay, lads,' I continued, 'the water were red because of the algaí dearga that grew there.'
'What's that?' asked Diolun.
'Algai are wee plants,' I replied. 'Some are green, some are brown, some are blue-green while others, as in this case, are red.'
'How do you know so much about plants?' asks Dooli.
'Lad,' I answers him, 'when you're as old as Daidí Beag, and spent as much time as I have tendin' gardens, ye learn a thing or two about plants and other things.'
'Was your Da a farmer like ye?' asks Diolun.
'Aye, and his Da before him and his before him and so on,' I tells him.
'And they passed their knowledge about farmin' to ye?' asks Darowva.
'Aye, lass, they did. That's how I know so much about it!' I says with a laugh.
'Grand!' says Darowva. 'Did they write it all down?'
'Nay, they kept it all right here,' I tells her while pointin' to me noggin.
Diolun gets to his feet then walks over to peak in me ear. 'I don't see anythin',' he innocently says.
Me grandkids all laughed.
'You can't see it, lad,' I tells him. 'That's why some folks write it down.'
'Will you be leavin' a written record for us?' Darowva asks me.
'Hmm,' I said while thinkin'. 'I hadn't thought of that but perhaps I ought. Will you all learn to read it?'
The lads looked away as they mumbled 'Nay'. In contrast, Darowva enthusiastically answers, 'Aye!'
'Well, at least that's one of ye,' I said with a wee bit o' chagrin.
'That's enough about haunted swamps for one evenin',' says me daughter Banba. 'Aye,' agreed me daughters Ériu and Fódla.
'Aw!' me grandkids groaned. 'The story were only beginnin'!' complains Diolun.
'Well, perhaps if ye wee ones remained quiet while Granda told his story ye'd hear more of it in one sittin',' suggested Fódla.
'What fun is that!' said Daibhidh with a laugh.
'Oíche mhaith, me wee darlin's!' I said to me grandkids as their mothers led them away to their beds.
'Good night, Granda!' they replied.
