The Irish myth of Diarmuid’s betrayal - Iseult Gillespie
Gráinne, daughter of King Cormac mac Airt,
princess of Tara, and bride-to-be,
was furious.
Fionn Mac Cumhaill, leader of the Fianna,
Ireland’s most celebrated band
of warriors,
had just arrived at her castle.
Gráinne had believed she was betrothed
to a young soldier,
bold and brilliant enough to be her equal.
Yet upon their arrival, it became clear
she was expected to marry Fionn himself;
who, while once a legend,
was far past his prime.
Gráinne would not suffer this insult.
Before the wedding,
the King held a great banquet.
As the warriors told tales of Fionn’s
strength and magical healing hands,
Gráinne waited to enact her revenge.
But while scanning the room, her eyes
locked on to one of the guests.
Diarmuid, one of Fionn’s bravest soldiers
and foster child
of the God of Love himself,
was renowned for his stunning beauty.
Perhaps this was the bold warrior
the princess had imagined?
Only one way to find out.
Gráinne swept into action,
slipping a sleeping draught
into the partygoers’ goblets.
Soon the hall fell silent—
save for two unenchanted guests.
The pair immediately felt a powerful
connection.
But Diarmuid hesitated.
He’d never put his interests
before the Fianna’s.
Seeing Diarmuid waver
between duty and desire,
Gráinne took the decision
out of his hands.
With a light kiss,
she placed a geas on his brow—
an ancient spell that bound them together,
for better or worse.
As the pair escaped,
Diarmuid’s heart was racing.
Had he really betrayed Fionn
for a woman he’d just met?
To answer his son’s questions,
Angus Óg appeared beside them.
The God of Love blessed their union
and eased his son’s concern.
But he also warned that endless
difficulties lay ahead.
At the palace, Fionn awoke full of wrath.
He rallied an epic war band that quickly
caught up to the lovers.
To buy time, Diarmuid and Gráinne conjured
a massive enclosure with seven doors.
While Gráinne escaped with Angus Óg,
Diarmuid went door to door seeking Fionn.
Some of the Fianna sought peaceful
surrender, others itched for combat.
Diarmuid gave neither.
But when he finally heard his leader’s
voice calling for blood,
he knew there was no turning back.
Launching himself over the barricade,
Diarmuid leapt to Gráinne’s side.
The chase was on.
The pair ventured west, where they soon
encountered the giant Modan.
Eager to help the lovers, he guarded
them at night and carried them by day.
And once the pair had crossed
countless rivers and hills,
their fear began to ease.
They left the forest’s cover, laughing,
flirting, and growing bolder each day.
But Fionn saw their contentment
was an opportunity.
He enlisted three sea chiefs
to capture the wandering lovers.
Diarmuid scared them
off with mystifying sword tricks—
only for Fionn to send poisonous hounds.
Diarmuid and Gráinne fled yet again
into an even more tangled forest—
a sight which filled the Fianna
with exhaustion.
They implored Fionn to give up the hunt,
and at this, their leader grew quiet.
He’d already lost a dear friend—
now it seemed his wrath had cost him
the respect of his men as well.
Swallowing his rage,
he called off the chase.
For years, Gráinne and Diarmuid
lived in peace.
In time, Angus Óg even brokered
an agreement between the warriors,
and their conflict faded into memory.
But Gráinne never forgot
the love god’s warning.
One day, Fionn invited Diarmuid
on a boar hunt high in the mountains.
While the two were riding,
a venomous boar charged them
and mortally wounded Diarmuid.
As he bled, the old warrior begged
his friend for water,
as all the Fianna knew drinking
from the hands of Fionn Mac Cumhaill
could save their lives.
But as Fionn turned to aid Diarmuid,
his old resentments came rushing back.
For just a moment, his fingers parted,
letting the water trickle to the ground.
And by the time Fionn realized
his mistake,
it was too late.
And the embers of rage that long burned
inside him were finally quenched by tears.
