Piet Ceanadach - The Daughters of Danu

Aodh = Hugh

Banbha = Ban-vah

Ban-Dubh = Ban-Doov

Branan = Bran-an

Brighde = Breed

Brugh Na Binne = Broo-na-boyn (New Grange)

Caiseal = Cash-el (Castle)

Cathal = Kat-al

Ceana = Kee-na

Ciaran = Kear-ran

Coinneach = Kenneth

Donnan = Doh-nan

irinn = Air-in (Ireland)

Eghann = You-an

Fearghas = Fergus

Fionn = Fin

Fionntan = Fin-tan

Francach = Fran-kak

Gabhran - Gav-ran

Lulach = Loo-lak

Mr = More

Morag = Mr-ag

Mordag = Mr-dag

Niall = Nile

Niamh = Neeve

Oenghus Mac Og = Angus Mac Og

Oisian = O-sheen

Orla = Awl-la

Raven = Rayven

Ridh = Roy

Rnan = Roh-nan

Sen-Dubh = Shaun-doov

Sionn = Shaun (meaning Fox)

Sorcha = Shork-eh

Taran = Tar-ran

Teamhair = Tara

Una = Oona

Many thanks must be given to Nina Falaise for her wonderful Artwork and to Caiseal Mor for encouraging me to write this book.

My name is Orla. I have lived in this village from the day I was born, fifteen summers ago.

Ive just been woken by the constant sound of rain. It feels like its been raining for months but in reality its probably only been a few weeks. Its not very light outside, in fact, its a miserable grey colour so I reckon its still fairly early, but its hard to tell when the clouds above are so black and heavy with rain, even the animals are quiet. The bad weather is getting to everyone even the beasts.

My father, Branan the village black smith, is worried that the village crops will be ruined if this awful weather doesnt improve. He says that if it goes on much longer, every man, woman and child will have to go out into the fields and gather in what we can save. He says that if the weather doesnt get any better there wont be enough food to carry us through the winter. In the blessed name of Danu I hope he is wrong.

Its nice and warm under this fur snuggled in with my little sister Sorcha, warming my back. Still, I am aware of my responsibilities and must get up and help my mother make something to eat. Its still hard to get up though. My father, normally the first to rise, will soon return from tending the smithy fire and he will be hungry. Sorcha stirs as I gently slide from under the furs, she groans at being disturbed but soon settles down again, slipping back into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Grinne, my father whispered as he entered dripping into the house shaking the rain from his cloak, I think the village animals are more depressed than we are. My father was always one for a joke, but this time even she found it difficult to force even a wry smile.

Come Branan, sit and have some breakfast, Ill wake little Sorcha, its time she was up. Orla dear, build up the hearth, lets keep the damp out or well all be ill.

Thats my mother, always the practical one, I said inwardly. She looked over at me, winked, ran her fingers through her auburn curls and went to wake Sorcha.

Over breakfast my father announced that all the villagers would be meeting in the great hall to consider what is to be done before all of our harvest is ruined.

Are we all going father, I asked inquisitively.

Yes, he said, If we work together we will achieve more.

I nodded showing I understood. He looked up from his breakfast bowl and smiled approvingly.

Do I have to go father, chirped Sorcha, I dont like the rain and its cold.

Oh, Ill carry you under my cloak, that way you wont get your lovely red hair wet, father laughed, but I could see in his eyes he was worried.

We quickly tidied up and dressed into our waterproof sealskins. I ran a bone comb through my long chestnut coloured hair, and as a family we crossed the small village of seventeen round houses to the larger meetinghouse as the rain continued to fall.

Once inside I naturally looked around to see who was there. The hearth had been built up, it was cosy but a little smoky, old men coughed and children rubbed their irritated eyes. My father sat at the head of the circle with the other village elders, Fionn and Rnan, the druid Cathal sat nearby and I peeped out nosily watching the rain through the crack in the door cover. At first I thought I saw someone across the clearing, but when I looked again they were gone. I put it down to the blur of the smoke and the persistent rain falling. My attention was drawn back to the gathering as Cathal hushed everybody to silence, and then in his usual orderly way, he invited all the men and women in turn to voice their opinions as to what was to be done. Cathal briefly emphasised the urgency of the situation and turning to his left nodded to indicate that Una, Nialls wife should start the discussion. After Niall in came Mrag, followed by her man Taran. And so one after the other all had their say.

Orla my dear, do you have any thoughts? Enquired Cathal.

Lord Druid, I nervously replied, being surprised at being included I am only 15 summers old.

Cathal looked me in the eye and said, You have grown so quickly Orla, and I do not think that any who are here would not value your opinion. Speak and tell us what your thoughts are?

I could see my mother and father looking startled at me, and it made me nervous.

I think, I stuttered, Danu will help us, Perhaps if we wait a few more days the rain will stop and that will give us the opportunity to bring in our crops, I enthused unconvincingly.

Niall shook his head, and looking directly at me said,

If we wait too long we will lose everything Orla.

Taran, Morag and Rnan all nodded in agreement. There was a great murmur in the hall and even the children felt the unrest that had been stirred.

Cathal, why ask the opinion of a child, sneered Fionn, looking over at me, and obviously frustrated by what he considered to be a complete waste of time.

Cathal feeling a rise in the temperature rose to his feet and held his arms open wide, palms open. Peace my people, this is not a time for anger, but a time to cooperate.

If we continue to wait for the intervention of the Gods, well probably all starve to death in our houses, tell me, who has seen or felt the touch of the old ones in our lifetime? Snapped Fionn, with a great deal of frustration in his voice. Theyre just stories we tell our children, he mumbled as he rose to his feet to leave.

Some nodded in agreement; others let it go as the frustrations of a worried man. When Fionn realised that the Druid had not closed the meeting, he sat back down again, not wishing to insult those present, for in our times it was considered good manners to remain seated during a meeting. Cathal stepped closer to the hearth fire; the lines on his face could be clearly seen. He spoke of togetherness and cooperation, looking at each person including the little ones as he spoke in a vain attempt to hide his concern. Letting out a deep breath, he thanked everyone for their solidarity, even Fionn who was still shaking his head and muttering through his teeth, and ended the meeting of the villagers. Only my father Branan, Rnan and a rather vexed Fionn stayed behind to plan the ingathering.

As the sun dipped down low in the watery sky my father came home.

It is agreed that we should wait until the third daybreak from today, which will allow us time to plan who does what and when, Grinne, do we have any mead left, my bones are like ice? My father said suddenly.

Er, I think so Branan, are you feeling ill?

Father looked across at Grinne and said, No, just cold, but I think its time for a toast. Orla, I was proud of you today, Cathal agreed with you that we should wait a short while, lets hope its to our advantage.