The Isle of the Little Cat
This segment from The Voyage of Mael Duin can be found in longer form in Geddes and Grosset’s Celtic Mythology.[1] The hero of this entertaining story is born in a nunnery, the product of rape, and fostered by a queen. Not content to enjoy his comfortable life, Mael Duin pesters his reluctant foster mother to give him the details of his birth. After meeting his biological mother, he pesters her for the name of his father, then goes with his foster brothers to visit his paternal clan, who welcome him but do not tell him the circumstances of his father’s death. Eventually a monk reveals the truth, and Mael Duin is off to a far-flung island to confront his father’s killer. With heretofore uncharacteristic caution, he consults a wizard regarding the most auspicious way to conduct the voyage and learns that he is to take seventeen and only seventeen companions. Naturally this injunction is disregarded. After weeks of hard travel, the tired and hungry crew land for a sojourn on the Isle of the Little Cat.
The men disembarked on the sandy beach with weak knees and unsteady gait. The cool dusk seemed pleasant yet somehow strange.
Rising above the cliffs they saw a great fortress with a white tower. Mael Duin proceeded guardedly, reflecting on the travails encountered on former islands: a giant horse with hound’s paws who threw pebbles, menacing ants the size of foals, fire pigs who made the ground steamy.
They entered the fortress cautiously. Everything seemed deserted. The outside walls of the white houses were decorated with necklaces, torques, brooches, daggers, and swords, fashioned from the finest metals and encrusted with jewels. There seemed to be no craftsmen and no guards. The smell of food wafted from the largest house, but upon entering they found no cook, no lord, and no lady. In the great hall a table had been set, and there were numerous cushions, linens, and sleeping pallets along the walls. The place was deserted save for a small cat leaping between four stone pillars that rose in the center of the room. The cat glanced at the men but seemed untroubled by their presence and continued her play.
The wary men stood in silence while Mael Duin considered the scene carefully. Then he smiled. As unnatural as it seemed after the terrible encounters in recent weeks, this situation might be exactly what it appeared to be: a prosperous village whose inhabitants had left on some errand or mission but had laid preparations for the arrival of guests. Perhaps they had been expecting this very crew. The men relaxed and took advantage of the opportunity to wash and enjoy a decent meal. The clean comfortable bedding was enticing. The cat ignored them and continued to play, wash, stretch, and nap.
A long summer day that ends with a good dinner, a soft bed, and a dreamless sleep is the most wonderful of things, yet also the least remarked upon and the least remembered. This incident was destined to be recorded because of what happened the next morning.
As the men leisurely prepared to resume their journey, they inquired of their leader whether it would be appropriate to carry with them the remainder of the prepared food. “Yes, take that and the ale and mead also,” Mael Duin replied, “but leave the jewelry and the armaments. We will not raid an unguarded house.”
They might or might not have noticed when the youngest of Mael Duin’s foster brothers pilfered a necklace, but a companion they had forgotten about completely had been watching their every move. The cat leaped into the air, changing into a fiery arrow in mid-flight as she sheared into the boy. She incinerated him to ashes. It took all of Mael Duin’s skill to sweet-talk the cat into resuming her harmless shape.
After soothing and reassuring the cat, the chastened crew returned to the beach. The ashes of their comrade they scattered along the pristine shore. They had encountered many perilous and threatening situations before landing on this hospitable island, but this was the first place where Mael Duin lost one of his men, and it was his own foster brother besides. They left without knowing the owners of the treasure, the fortress, and the fairy cat. She no doubt remains on the veiled island, awaiting future guests.
[1] Celtic Mythology (New Lanark, Scotland: Geddes and Grosset, 1999).
