Transcript
Jason Weiser (0:00)
This week on Myths and Legends, we're in Celtic folklore and we'll see why. If a talking fox approaches you on the road with solutions to all of your problems and a lamb's head to eat, you should maybe hit the pause button on both of those things. And how, if five fairy riders invite you to crash a wedding, maybe make sure kidnapping isn't on the agenda first. The creature this time is that water man horse who has not read the Odyssey. This is Myths and Legends, episode 400 the baddies. This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins. Others are stories that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen. Today we're back in Celtic Folklore with two stories of choices. Good choices, bad choices, kidnappy choices. We run the full gamut. This week we'll jump in with Prince Ian, who's out hunting and who just made an amazing discovery. The blue falcon flapped out of the tree. A blue falcon. Ian Dirich knocked an arrow and let it fly. He had done this so many times it was nearly automatic. And as the darker blue falcon soared off into the white sky, it seemed it was too automatic. The bird got away. It was the first time Ian had missed in years, since he learned to hunt. A blue feather fluttered to the ground, and after Ian dug through the autumn leaves on the forest floor to get it, he brought it home. Home had once been a nice place. Once before. His mother's coughs became more and more ragged, until they ceased forever. Until her. My boy, the king clapped, rising from his throne, you've grown to be tall and strong and handsome, and you can run and shoot and swim and dive better than any lad your own age in the country. You know how to sail about and sing songs to the harp and tell tales of the deeds of your fathers. His stepmother grimaced every time. She knew. They all knew. What game did you bring us from your hunts? She sat, barely looking at him. Ian said, none, sadly. Only this. He produced a blue feather from his pack. The court was floored. A blue feather. A blue feather slightly larger than the naturally blue feathers of the kingfisher barn swallow and the Eurasian blue tip, which are all native to Ireland. This was amazing. Astounding. A lie. A lie and a charade. The king was puzzled. How was this a fun game where people guess a word from pantomimed clues? The queen said no. It was an absurd pretense intended to create a pleasant or respectable appearance. And there was nothing about this Boy, that was respectable. The king said, hold up. His son had grown to be tall and strong and handsome and can run and shoot and swim and dive better than any lad his own age in the country. He knows how to sail about and sing songs to the harp and tell tales of the deeds of his fathers. Oh, he's telling tales. The queen said he was lying to his king and that was punishable by death. Probably. But she was magnanimous. She would give him until the end of autumn when the last leaf fell, to find this blue bird. What a ridiculous thing. If he failed to bring it back, he would be turned into a bundle of sticks. She held up a finger. But that's not to say he gets off that easy. Until then, you will always be cold, wet and dirty. And your shoes will always have pools in them. The king said, no, that was the worst. What in the world. Please stop fighting. But Ian ignored him, laughing through a shiver. Oh, so they're cursing now. Fine. He would go get that blue falcon that definitely exists. But until he did, she needed to remain between the house and the castle, and no matter which direction she faced, she would always be looking into the wind. The king said no. Also, how were they literally cursing each other? Were they magic? Was he magic? He looked around for someone to curse and then swore, darn it. He loved everyone and didn't want to curse anyone. Curse is a bulliant and agreeable nature. And then he felt sad and surly. Oh no, it worked. But yes, they could curse each other. And yes, those curses worked. The queen was immediately pulled to where she was standing between their home and the castle, standing outside in the courtyard with the wind always at her face. And Ian. Well, Ian felt miserable, cold and dirty and absolutely the worst of all. As anyone who has a child and a dog come in from playing outside in the winter and has soaked their socks with snow shoes with an unending supply of cold water. The good thing about feeling cold and dirty all the time was that it didn't give Ian any extra incentive to linger in his father's house. He didn't know what life would be like as a sentient bundle of sticks and frankly wasn't keen to find out. He left the following morning. Really, it was one bird he had seen the previous day. It couldn't have gotten far. After day eight or nine of walking, Ian had to admit that he was wrong and he was in trouble. He was surprised to find one evening by the fire, a voice echoing his anxiety. Fortune is against you, Ian Dirich. But I have the cheek and the hoof of a sheep to give you. And with these, you must be content. The voice came from the forest, and he shot up to see a fox. A talking fox. The fox rose with a smile. And as we talked about in the Mighty Miko episode, when foxes smile, it's actually pretty adorable. Oh, hello, talking fox. Ian greeted the talking animal. Because when you and your stepmom curse each other to be bundles of sticks in a month, it's nowhere near outside the realm of possibility that animals can talk. Kilimirtin, the fox corrected. Not just any animal. He was Gille Mairtine. Ian searched his memory of old Celtic stories. Was Gille Mertin something he should know a reference to, like a famous talking fox? No, just the story. Cool. Looking down to the sheep's head and hoof that the fox had with him, Ian said, thanks. He wasn't going to ask where the fox got those things, but he was really hungry. His provisions were running low. I got them from a sheep. The fox looked at the man. Oh, yeah, I could see that. And he did not give them willingly. The fox clarified. Yeah, no, that. That tracks. Ian shifted uncomfortably. Could they eat after a dinner of sheep cheek and hoof, which the Internet assures me is a delicacy? It's not my thing personally, but no judgment here. I think if you have to kill an animal, it's probably best to use as much as you can. And apparently the head contains a good amount of meat. I link to a Reddit thread in the show notes for anyone who wants to see a cooked sheephead. But be warned, it's an actual cooked sheephead. Hey, so I'm on this quest. Ian floated after he finished picking the last of the cheek meat, but the fox cut him off. I know. Oh, then you could help me find the blue falcon. Of course. But after snuggle time. The fox said, curling up at the young man's side. Uh, okay then, Ian said, and went to bed. It was weird that a talking fox wanted to curl up at his side, but he didn't dislike it. The falcon that you seek is in the keeping of the giant of the five heads and the five necks and the five humps. I will show you the way to his house, and I counsel you to do his bidding nimbly and cheerfully, and above all, to treat his birds kindly. For in this manner, he may give you his falcon to feed and care for. And when this happens, wait till the giant is out of his house, then throw a cloth over the falcon and bear her away. With you only see that none of her feathers touches anything within the house or evil will befall you. The young man opened his eyes. Um, what? Sorry, he was just waking up. He needed a coffee before that much exposition. Coffee won't be in Ireland until around the 16th century, the fox said. Fine. Tea then. The man rubbed his eyes. Even later, like 18th century, the fox said. You do have some small beer with you? Beer with a lower alcohol content, typically 0.5 to 2% ABV. Enough to keep the microorganisms from growing. Ian shrugged and guzzled the beer from the skin at his side. Okay, what was that about the giant with the humps? Once Ian was up to speed on what needed to be done, he he stomped out the fire and followed the fox to the giant's lair. Yeah, it's a house. You can just call it a house. The giant with the five heads said when he answered the door. How can I help you? The young man pointed behind him. His his friend said that the giant was in need of some help around the farm and Ian could feed birds, tend to pigs. He could feed and milk a cow and feed birds. He could also feed and milk goats and sheep and feed birds too. Ian was being very subtle, but even though the giant caught that, he said birds three times, the giant really needed help. He threw open his giant door and bade Ian to enter. And there was no trick. Ian worked for the giant and the giant was happy to give him room and board. Ian could leave anytime he wanted and wouldn't be eaten. It did take a few days to work up to the blue falcon, but finally Ian had access. The bird was a brilliant blue and Ian cared for it until its feathers were even brighter than before. I honestly don't know if bird feather colors are indicative of overall health. Please let me know if that's the case. But the bird wasn't the only one who was feeling good. We have like four pets now. It's too many pets. We also love to travel. Finding care for three cats and a dog was by far the most difficult part of traveling. So the five headed giant breathed five successive sighs of relief. He finally had someone here that he could trust to look after his animals. Ian learned that his boss was going to take a night and go visit his brothers that lived just over the mountain. Ian told him not to worry, he would see to everything. And the next morning, just after the giant disappeared over the mountain, Ian stuffed the blue falcon in his cage, covered it and stole out of the house. But as soon as they made it out of the door, the light hit the blanket, the bird shrieked and a single feather drifted down. And when it touched the door frame, the feather began screaming. Now, Ian had the same reaction. I think we all would if a feather drifted down and began shrieking, what is going on? What do you even do in that situation? You apparently stand there and wait to be turned into a nice fine grain paste by the giant. But the giant was a reasonable man giant. He asked what Ian was doing. Ian told him about his stepmother and the curse and the blue Falcon. And the man giant said, well, why didn't Ian just ask for it? Ian said, just ask for it? Really? Yeah. You know that thing that people do when they want something someone else has? The giant said, look, he didn't want to hurt Ian, and he legitimately wanted the best for the kid. If Ian wanted the blue Falcon, he only needed to bring the giant the white sword of light from the big women of Dorad. Ian said, oh, that sounded surprisingly reasonable. Where do the big woman of Dorad live? I mean, probably Jarad, but that's not exactly my problem now, is it? The giant said, regardless, if Ian brought him the white sword, he could have the Blue Falcon. Ian sighed. Okay, he would be back. Unless his boss wanted to go take his vacation to his brother's house, Ian would be happy to stay here and watch. His eyes went to the falcon. Watch everything. Nodding, the giant said, no, he was gonna stay here now. Nice. We'll see Ian definitely not continue to do the same things over and over again. But that will be right after this.