From her base located on the island of Insi Orc, the Isle of Wild Pigs, under the cover of night in her black-stained, long ship; the Morrigan’s revenge, with her mighty Pictish seamen of the Orcadian, Lugi, and Caledonii tribes at her side, Grainne was able to successfully raid Ulster’s coastline without mercy, day after day, month after month, taking anything of value that she could carry off, and burning what could not be carried off. Grainne was utilizing Ulster’s deep rivers to lay waste to all the coastal and inland villages.

Back at Emain Macha, Conchobar mac Nessa was falling out of favor with the nobles, and the people of Ulster. The Ultonians were fast losing faith in their once strong king, and were now demanding the return of Fergus mac Roich as King of Ulster, so that he could return the Kingdom of Ulster to its glory days.

The Kingdoms of Connacht and Leinster could smell the stench of fear on the winds from Ulster, and were now threatening Ulster with war, seeing that the Ulster king could not defend his coast against a rabble band of sea-raiders, it seem a ripe time to rattle the spears of war against a kingdom that for eons has bragged of its staunch defense against all invaders, be they Erin-born or otherwise.

The king ordered the majority of the Red Branch warriors to patrol the porous borders against the gathering warbands. The remaining detachments were sent to the coastal areas, to attempt to capture the sea queen called the Red Girl. This left Emain Macha with only the Boy’s troop, under the command of Conchobar’s son Follamain, and the king’s champion, Fergus mac Roich, to guard and defend the great fortress of Emain Macha.

Word quickly traveled back to Grainne at Insi Orc, that Conchobar has left his fortress ill-equip to properly defend itself, against an attack, and that only a group of noble-born whelps stood between Grainne and Fergus mac Roich. Grainne chuckled to herself, her debt to the Phantom Queen will be soon be paid in full, when in triumph she is able to hold the head of Fergus mac Roich on high in the air for all to see. His severed head will adorn the black-stain prow of her ship, as an honored trophy of her accomplishment.

Much preparation was to be taken for this dangerous raid upon the hill fortress of Macha. Grainne purchase several more long ships from her contacts within the Saxon Kingdoms, and recruited more Pictish sea-raiders from the Pictish Kingdom of Cait, and Fidach.

She kept the Red Branch occupied by intensifying her raids along Ulster’s eastern coast, laying waste to all the villages and settlements. The few Red Branch assigned to the coast were powerless in stopping or capturing the much hated Red Girl. They were either too late in responding, or too few in numbers to face the Red Girl and her Pictish wild men.

The time was right when a fierce winter storm swept over Ulster, bringing with it dark, ominous clouds, that obstructed the glowing luminescence of the Rowan moon and stars. The howl of the storm’s wind and driving sheets of icy rain left one deaf to the sound of approaching death. For on this night, the ravens of the Battle goddess, with Donn the Dark one, and Cromm Cruaich the Slaughterer of the mound, rode on the storm winds and clouds.

With several ship loads of horses, and warriors from the Pictish houses of the Horse, Eagle, seal, and Boar, Grainne guided her ships against the current of the river Bhanna, entering unnoticed into the enormous lake of Neathach, with its numerous islands. From Neathach, Grainne and her company of warriors rode like demons, through Ulster’s moors and forest, to lay bloody siege upon the defenseless fortress of Conchobar.

The Picts breach the fortress walls with ease, throwing the gates open for Grainne and her savage force. The night was rip asunder with the unnerving war-cries of the Pictish warriors as they rode through the fortress laying torch to anything that could burn, and spilling the blood of any that would dare stand their ground.

Thrice fifty of the Boy’s troop gave their lives on that sad night, in the brave defence of Emain Macha. The youths fought as bravely and valiantly as any Red Branch would have done in their stead.

Grainne had no problem finding the giant warrior called Fergus mac Roich, for he was in the middle of a murderous maelstrom of flashing blades. The ground around his feet was littered with numerous hacked bodies of Grainne’s warriors. Snarling, painted warriors were cut down by Fergus’ heavy two-handed sword; they were but wheat to his sharp blade.

Grainne came to the conclusion that attacking the giant warrior head on was futile and costly. Climbing to the rooftop of a nearby building, Grainne position herself above and behind the red-haired warrior, who was making easy work of her fierce warriors. With a shrill war-cry, Grainne launch herself upon the unaware warrior below. Blade held in both hands, Grainne drove the blade deep into his body, sinking the blade to the hilt. Fergus gave only a short cry of surprise as he sunk to the gore splattered ground, his eyes rolling back inside his head.

Grainne’s victory was short lived as the air was torn asunder by the war-horns of the chariot-chieftains of the Red Branch. The thunderous roar of the horse’s hoofs, chariot wheels, and the blood-curling war cries of the Red Branch added to the night’s confusion. Before Grainne’s Pictish warriors could regroup and turn to battle the new threat, the Red Branch was upon them with a red vengeance. Razor-sharp sickle blade attach to the chariot wheel hubs, cut Grainne’s men down as if they were but a field of meadow grass.

Thrice that night, death came close to Grainne herself, as an iron ball from the sling of a Red Branch shattered her sword; as she attempted to remove the head of Fergus mac Roich, and a light javelin graze her temple, laying her open to her hair line with a nasty gash. The second javelin drove deep into her upper thigh. Grainne cried out in pain as one of her warriors remove the shaft from her flesh.

Making a sound decision, Grainne thought it prudent to make a hasty, retreat from the fortress back to the awaiting ships. Orders from Grainne were passed on; for each warrior to take with him a member of the Boy’s Troop to be held for ransom.

The raiders were fortunate to have escaped the confine of Emain Macha on their swift mounts; the rain soak ground allowed Grainne to out race the chariot warriors of Ulster, losing them in the stormy weather.

Safely back on her ship in open waters once again, Grainne came to realize that she was holding as hostage, several young children of King Conchobar and Fergus mac Roich, children of Ulster’s Red Ross lineage.

Days later an arrangement was made between the chiefs of the Red Branch and the reavers for the safe return of the noble born children. Conchobar and the Ulster nobles were to pay a kingly fee in silver, gold, pearls, jewelry, livestock, with caskets of quality wine to the Red Girl for the safe return of their love ones.

Instructions were given in detail that the ransom was to be left in a marked cave, on the ancient boot-shaped island of Reachlainn. Only after the ransom has been retrieve by Grainne’s warriors, and no scullery was about, then only then would she agree to release the children back to Ulster.

The ransom was delivered as instructed, to the Isle that laid to Ulster’s north east coast. Conchobar kept his word as a man of honor that no trap was to be laid for the capture of the Red Girl and her Pictish warriors. Conchobar soon doubted his decision, as the days turned into weeks, and there was no word or sighting of the kidnapped lads of the Boy’s Troop.

It was a full month past before seven of the children were sighted, crying and wandering aimlessly along the coastline. Tied to each of their waist, was a leather bag made of seal skin.

The warriors who found the children were seasoned, battle-hardened warriors, use to the horrors of the battle field. What they found in the leather sacks that day truly sickened their stomachs. In each sack contain the severed heads of Ulster’s lads of the Boy’s troop, as young as seven.

The heads belong to the young sons of Ulster King Conchobar mac Nessa, and his kinsman and champion, Fergus mac Roich. The boys were well known and loved by all the Red Branch warriors, and the people of Emain Macha.

Grief and sorrow tore at the king’s heart, as he held the heads of his slain boys against his heaving chest. Conchobar spoke some words to each of them and then cried out in a tear-fill voice.

“I Conchobar mac Nessa, son of Fachtna Fathach the giant, swear by the gods by whom my people swear, that I will right this terrible wrong___ this murder committed upon my kin___ my blood. If I fail in my task, may the land open to swallow me, the sea rise to drown me, and the sky fall upon me.” Conchobar threw back his head and gave a great howl of grief, as he curse the day his path cross that of the Red Girl.

Dark terrible days followed the Kingdom of Ulster from that day forth, as the chieftains of the Red Branch tried to defend their boarders from the southern kingdoms of Connacht, Leinster and Munster, as Ulster’s champion Fergus mac Roich, laid on his death bed on the brink of taking his final journey to the land of the dead.

Conchobar mac Nessa, the King of Ulster, overcome with grief and madness, hired a mercenary force, leaving Ulster at her most dire moment, so that he could lead the hunt for the Red Girl and her Pictish reavers.




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