A medium shot shows Cuchulainn, fully armed, pacing slowly in Conor's hall, looking straight over the camera at one after another of the Red Branch warriors who are in the room with him. Half his right ear is missing from a fresh self inflicted wound. As he walks, the camera passes the backs of other armed men in the foreground, variously mutilated, all a bit out of focus and some of them also moving in restless anger. Cuchulainn's face could be made of stone, except for the piercing grey eyes which dart from face to face as his fellow warriors speak. Today those eyes are predatory.
A warrior's voice (from out of frame): "So we've lost three brothers at arms and Fergus has lost both his young sons. And now Deirdre is gone as well. Conor taunted her, saying 'Deirdre will have no trouble going from one man to another,' as she rode in Naise's chariot. And suddenly the horses seemed to go wild, and she flung herself down between them and was dashed to pieces. And I have no wish to stay with Conor from this day forward."
There are murmurs of assent. The shot ends in a fade.
We fade in to Conor sitting on a bale of hay against the back wall of the same room. He is slumped dejectedly with his head lolling to his right, and does not care to move. We look slightly down at him from Cuchulainn's point of view.
Cuchulainn's voice (out of frame, harsh with contempt): "You know the law. When you betray a Red Branch warrior you free us all from our oath. I am the one exception, and I wish that I were not."
There is a pause.
"I must protect Uillaid. It is my geise, and sorry I am that it is. Every other has gone to Maeve of the West Country and is sworn into her service. And if she sends them against the north they have to come. I'm thinking they'll be glad enough to war against you, and it's sick that my heart feels at the thought of defending you."
We see Maeve, the Queen of Connaught, in the hall of her own castle, a wall of red cedar logs behind her. The fire in the centre of the room is blazing. On either side are her new henchmen in a line, picked from the Red Branch warriors who have joined her army. They are the same ones we saw before beside Conor, and Fergus is among them, directly to Maeve's right. Each warrior has a long spear in his right hand, held in the same manner as in Conor’s hall.
We look up at the queen. She is strikingly beautiful, with long straight dark brown hair and a cruel expression.
Maeve: "Well, since the Red Branch warriors have sworn fealty to me, we might as well do something with it, mightn't we." This is not a question. "After the outrages that have been committed I say invade the place, and BRING BACK THE RED BULL OF UILLAID!"
She rises with these last words and bellows them across the room, and the warriors give three brief shouts in unison. There is a second between each shout, and with each shout all the warriors raise their spears overhead to the right, point up, and then bang the blunt ends down on the floor again.
A timid grey haired man steps into the frame. He is Maeve's consort Aillil.
Aillil (hesitantly): "My love, would it be wise–"
Maeve (in a terrible voice): "Silence!" Her voice becomes poisonous. "Little king." She returns to her previous tone. "The decision has been made. We leave tomorrow."
It is night, deep in the old growth rainforest. The camera tracks along with a woman's footsteps, looking directly down at her feet as she walks among the ferns. The feet are clad in Faery shoes with buckles, and the whole is a translucent pale grey. Beside a moss covered mother log we see some amanita muscaria mushrooms, and along the top of the log we see some more.
A wider angle shot shows the woman's back as she examines the forest floor, then crouches down among the lush ferns and undergrowth. We are slightly to her left, twenty feet away. Her entire figure, clothes and all, is a translucent pale grey. We see that she is putting something into a basket. A closeup shows atropa belladonna, with some henbane and mandrake growing nearby. The camera pans right to a Eurasian common toad hopping past a small pool containing a European green toad and a crested newt. A translucent pale grey woman's hand picks the belladonna.
Then we see the woman from twenty feet away, through the foliage, crouching at her work, and we see that she is Morigan. The music for this scene is the tune of ‘Lord Randal’.
A chilling monotone with low pitched brass ending in a suggestion of cymbals accompanies each of four disturbing shots, and there is no ambient sound. First we see King Conor in closeup on the floor in a corner of his hall, crouched up in sick misery. He is gleaming with sweat, panting in huge audible gasps, and shaking from head to toe. His eyes stare beyond the camera in stark terror, as though he sees a monster there.
Next we see the kitchen of his castle. A kitchen boy is draped over one of the huge iron cauldrons, hanging onto the rim of it by his fingertips. He is in convulsions, and his body jerks spasmodically. He flaps his bent arms like a goose. Behind him another male kitchen helper is crawling on the floor, moaning like some strange animal and reaching out in front of him with one clawlike hand, eyes open in horror, neck and mouth reaching like a goose eating grass.
Now we see a man, probably a farmer, in the bedroom of his cottage. His trousered legs are still in bed, but the top half of him, unclothed, has slid out so that his head is on the floor. He is on the side of the bed nearest the camera, and we see clearly that he is clawing the air in a fit. He is obviously howling several times, but there is no sound.
Next we look straight down upon Conor, fully dressed on his bed. He is splayed out, arms and legs apart, and there is no fur cover on him. His hands are wide open and his ankles are flexed, he has an unchanging expression of total shock, and his entire body is vibrating like some machine gone wrong.
There is plenty of ambient sound in the following scene. We see Cuchulainn stride through the two large rough hewn doors to Conor's dining and reception hall, straight toward the camera, with Laeg right behind him. Cuchulainn looks determined, and Laeg alarmed and worried. Laeg glances around him while Cuchulainn stares ahead, but both are equally vigorous in their stormy entrance.
Next we hear the men's footsteps and armour as through the doorway to his bedchamber we see Conor lying on his bed vibrating –this time with a fur on the bed– undressed to the waist and foaming at the mouth. A middle aged woman is wiping his brow. Cuchulainn's back comes into frame as he looks at Conor through the doorway.
A closeup shows Cuchulainn's determined face as he storms out through Conor's unused dining and reception hall, his cloak flaring behind him. Laeg follows, and we see his face behind Cuchulainn's. He is moving equally quickly and with equal vigour, but looks around him agitatedly.
Cuchulainn (mutters): "They'll be fine, I know what it is." His voice becomes louder. "And every man in Uillaid is like this?"
Laeg: "So they told me. They say it's because a king of Uillaid once harassed a pregnant mother. It's a curse."
Cuchulainn: "This is what happens when you take a vacation." The camera moves to his left side, turning to its left to keep him in frame, and he passes it. Laeg stays back, out of frame, as the camera follows Cuchulainn out the doorway and through the courtyard. "There will always be one who seeks and abuses power, and then others must have it to check that one. It's part of being human."
An establishing shot shows Cuchulainn and Laeg on dark brown horses looking slightly down at us from a hilltop. Laeg carries a flag hanging on a crossbar. A red bull's head is the design on the flag. The standard is decorated with bull's horns. Then we see the two men from behind. There is ambient sound but no music.
The two men are looking down at Maeve's army setting up camp for the night. A wide angle shot shows the camp from their point of view. Almost all the white yurts have been raised, and furs are being put inside them. Dusk is approaching and the campfires are started. We see Maeve's standard, its flag hanging on a crossbar, its design a white bull's head. The pole of the crossbar has been stuck in the ground. We see cattle in the distance, large wheeled wagons and chariots, and people hauling black iron cauldrons. Then we return to a shot of the two men from behind. Their horses are agitated.
Cuchulainn: "There are five thousand of them." He pauses for two seconds. "Against you and me. Seems like good odds." As he speaks he turns his head a bit toward Laeg, and we see that side of his face is painted with woad. It is painted in a zig zag diagonally across his face, and will be for all the battle scenes. Laeg also is painted, with a chevron pattern running across his face. Cuchulainn grins with fierce joy. His eyes are gleaming.
Cuchulainn (through his teeth): "So, my friend, are you ready to die!"
Laeg looks into his eyes, gasping with fear but determined.
Laeg (also through his teeth): "Yes!"
Cuchulainn (still through his teeth): "Good! Because you and I are going to win! Come with me."
The two move their horses out of frame.
The camera is twenty feet away from the nearest tents of Maeve's army, at ground level. We hear the ambient sound of the men and women of the army settling down, tending their horses, and supping soup. For this last they use large wooden spoons which they dip into shared black iron cauldrons. The cauldrons hang from tripods made of branches over campfires.
Suddenly a war cry rends the air, coming from Cuchulainn's chariot sweeping in from the right, with its black horse and white horse. It has even more heads on it than last time. The chariot is bristling with spears, which Cuchulainn throws one by one with unerring accuracy. Next we see the chariot in the same charge, coming straight at the camera with the camp on the attackers' left. Laeg is at the reins, and we see Cuchulainn behind him throwing spears at the same pace, always hitting his mark.
Cuchulainn: "Ayayayayayayayayayayayayayayayayayayayayay!"
This call continues through the entire raid. Next we see the chariot raging through the left of the frame across to the right, even though the camera is tracking along with it. The horses are outrunning the camera. The chariot storms past more campers, and spears fly above it as Cuchulainn throws at a furious pace. Next we see the same thing from the other side, taking the point of view of one of the campers behind the first targets of assault. Maeve's people are still too stunned to reach for their weapons. The onslaught has been so fast that only some of the warrior rank are starting to run toward the camera.
The raid is over, and a fairly wide angle shot shows us the enemy camp in the gathering twilight. Survivors are pulling away the bodies. There are no wounded. Maeve's army has suffered heavy losses.
The camera is on a level with the top of a rocky cliff, and we are looking over at a promontory ten feet away on the right side of the frame. We are also looking at a similar cliff the same height near the left side of the frame, at a distance of another ten feet. A deep gorge separates the two cliffs. The shimmering ribbon of water extending to the right into the distance, cutting through dark furry forest, tells us that this is a river gorge.
On the nearer cliff at the right stands Maeve, her long hair whipped by the wind. On the farther cliff stands Cuchulainn. He is wearing a coat made from the scalps of his enemies, most with red hair, but some with brown, black and blond. Maeve waves a red cedar branch at Cuchulainn, and he waves a red cedar branch back. There is no music, but we hear the wind and see its effect. Then we look across at Cuchulainn, from Maeve's point of view.
Cuchulainn (calls): "Thought I'd wear my new coat. Human hair. See here..."
He looks toward one side of his coat front, pulling on one of the long tassels, then looks up again to call out.
"Your father!"
He is grinning. He pulls on another tassel.
"Your uncle!"
With savage glee he turns to the other side of the coat, glancing at the queen, and pulls several times on a third tassel. Still hanging onto it, he raises his head to call out.
"Your mother!"
We return to the previous camera location. Maeve stands silent for a couple of seconds.
Maeve (calls): "Cuchulainn! I have an offer for you!"
Cuchulainn (calls from a distance): "Ready to surrender?"
Maeve (after an offended pause): "Promise to give up the night attacks on my camp, and you can take on my warriors one by one!"
There is a pause while Cuchulainn considers.
Cuchulainn: "At the pass?"
Maeve: "Yes!"
Cuchulainn: "If I see one of your men leave to seek another route, the raids will double!"
Maeve: "Understood! My first warrior will meet you at the pass tomorrow!"
Cuchulainn: "We fight from sunrise to sunset! If your man is alive at sunset, he and I lay down our weapons in peace! Agreed?"
Maeve: "Agreed!"
Cuchulainn: "Every day!"
Maeve: "Agreed!"
Cuchulainn: "And I will count your men each evening! They'd better all be there!"
From the point of view of the first warrior sent to the pass, we see Cuchulainn's figure standing fourteen paces away between the high walls of two rocky cliffs. His feet are apart and his sword is drawn. It is sunrise, and the light is behind Cuchulainn. There is space between the cliffs for only one man, and Cuchulainn is it.
The camera approaches, a bit shakily, at walking pace. The suspense grows accordingly. We hear ambient sound of the man's breathing and walking, and we can count the paces. When we get to an arm's length away, suddenly Cuchulainn raises his sword. The shot ends as he begins to bring it down. After this we see a re-enactment of the same thing, only we begin about five paces away. Then we see yet another re-enactment, only beginning about three paces away.
Then we see, from Cuchulainn's point of view at the pass, Fergus standing about ten paces away, feet apart and sword in hand. High rocky cliffsides rise on either side of the frame.
Fergus (in a voice that carries): "I was like a father to you, and now we must fight. This thing is wrong. Parry my blows now and I will repay you. Give up your victory and one day I will return the favour. We can fight till sundown and part with this understanding. Have I your word on it?"
We see Cuchulainn from behind Fergus's back, over his left shoulder. The red rising sun is behind Cuchulainn. The back of Fergus’s top half takes up the right third of the frame. Cuchulainn takes his time to answer.
Cuchulainn: "You have my word."
Fergus lunges at Cuchulainn, who parries with his shield. The shot ends during the action.
We see Maeve in the camp. She is furious, and glares over the top of the camera at her consort, who is out of frame.
Maeve: "Treachery! Fergus could never have survived! That's it, we're leaving. The last four warriors can remain behind to keep Cuchulainn occupied. We'll slip away tomorrow morning, and I don't care if he mows us down. Our agreement is off!"
It is dusk in the forest. An alarming closeup shows the severed head of one of Cuchulainn's opponents hanging by its hair on a rack made of branches above his campfire. Next we see the campfire in centre frame from about ten feet away. There are five heads smoking on the rack. Laeg is taking furs from behind the fire and laying them out on the ground one by one for the night.
Meanwhile Cuchulainn is bringing in the already smoked severed head of his latest adversary. He holds it by the hair with one hand, a knife in the other. He removes the scalp with expert ease, respectfully puts the head down on a hemp cloth, and sits crosslegged by the fire. As he speaks he turns the scalp inside out with the ease of long experience, and rubs it between his hands to remove the flesh.
Cuchulainn: "This single combat thing is getting tired. Laeg... ride to Emain Macha and see whether you can round up an army. Some of them must be getting better by now."
Laeg nods, with a grunt. The shot ends in a fade.
A wide angle shot shows Maeve's army on the move. Most of the men are on foot, and some of the horses pull carts carrying tents and cooking supplies, so their progress is not fast. Everyone looks discouraged. Then we see a man on horseback over the heads of the longhorned cattle he is herding, and hear his casual 'Yee-hah!'
We see Cuchulainn in closeup, peering down past the camera between two giant boulders. He is haggard and worn, and angry in his desperation.
Cuchulainn: "What a time to break her word, just when my charioteer's gone." A frown creases his forehead, and he is breathless in his exasperation. With a sigh, he bends his head and brushes his forehead with his left hand.
Light's voice (out of frame): "Champion of Eireaan."
From the other side of the two boulders we see Cuchulainn spin around to look straight into the camera lens.
Light's voice (softly): "Need some sleep?"
There is a pause.
"I know, I know. I'll take your place. No one will guess it's not you at the pass. As for Maeve, there's plenty of time before she gets to Emain Macha, and you'll wake refreshed. Maeve has only four warriors left. Her other men are conscripts. Sleep for three days until Laeg gets back, take care of that last warrior, and you can descend on her army like a guard hound on a rat."
From above we see a man in closeup on a bed, tended by a female wizard. She is gently wiping his forehead, but it does no good. His head is back as if in rigor mortis. The irises of his eyes are only barely visible, a thin crescent just under his open eyelids, so that he appears walleyed. His mouth is open. A terrible sort of hoarse groan comes from him. It is high, not low in pitch, and has no force behind it.
Next we see Conor in his bed, propped up by furs against the wall, waited on by three flustered and concerned wizards. His eyes appear the same as the other man's, but instead of being stiff he is limp. His face sags, his jaw hangs slack and he is slumped over, supported by two of the wizards, who are wagging their heads as they mutter to each other. The third wizard looks helplessly above the camera.
Third wizard: "They're all still like this. We're doing what we can."
We see Laeg in closeup, sitting on a log near the Boys' House, his head in his hands. We see him from his right side.
Boy's voice (out of frame): "We'll help you."
Laeg turns his head toward the camera, and glances behind him.
Boy's voice: "We know the men are all sick, and the women are tending to them. We want to help Cuchulainn. We can do it, really we can."
Laeg (smiling thinly): "No. Thank you, but no."
Second boy's voice: "Why?"
Several other boys (not in unison): "Yes, why?"
Laeg (looking ahead of him): "You're not ready. You can do more by training here."
He sinks his head back into his hands.
In closeup we see two boys hiding in tall grass by a roadside, parting the grass to see, their faces gleefully excited and full of mischief. They are part of a group, and we see the heads of many boys hiding behind them, equally excited. Then we see Laeg's face in closeup as he rides along the road to rejoin Cuchulainn. The next shot shows his horse's legs crossing the frame, past the hidden boys. As soon as the legs are out of frame, the boys part the grasses as before and gaze after the departed rider.
Discordant strings in the background, without ambient sound, accompany four disturbing shots delivered at an unhurried pace. First we see, from directly above, the body of a little five year old boy with chubby cheeks and a cowlick curling around a vulnerable little neck. The rosebud lips are parted and the eyes are closed. He is lying curled up on his right side and looks for all the world as though he just fell asleep, with his fat little hands curled into fists and his bony little knees pulled up in front of him.
Secondly we see two round cheeked dead boys from ground level. The tops of their heads touch each other in mid-frame and the rest of the bodies extend on either side, but reach the sides of the frame just beyond shoulder level. Their eyes stare upward blankly.
Thirdly we see, from directly above, the thin young body of a ten year old boy lying on his back with head slightly turned to his right and eyes closed. On his stomach rests the round little head of a six year old boy, the rest of whose body extends to the lower right of the frame. This body also is on its back, the stout short arms and legs splayed out, but with the eyes open, horribly staring, the life long gone out of it.
Last we see the angelic upturned face of a seven year old boy, the eyes staring vacantly in death over the little round chin. We see it in profile in the left foreground, very close, from ground level. The top of the head is at the left side of the frame. The nose is upturned, the mouth pouting. It is unquestionably a child's face. In the background we see the battlefield strewn with children's bodies. In all these images the bodies are intact, but covered with blood. Each has a spear hole through the chest.
We look up at Cuchulainn's horrified face in extreme closeup as he gazes down at the carnage, gradually becoming more and more outraged. His lips are parted, speechless. The faint sound of strings in the background becomes louder, bit by bit, as his face begins to work, gradually increasing in volume. The sound of Uillean pipes joins in, then a heartbeat rhythm from a drum. All three sounds become louder and louder until the strings and bagpipes become literally screams and the drumbeat pounds in our ears mercilessly. There is no fluctuation in the increasing intensity. It just gets more and more. There is no pause for breath. A symphonic background sound is added, and it seems that the fever pitch cannot become higher. The music for this scene must be a powerful, rhythmical chant. The introductory bars of music accompany Cuchulainn's building rage. The next moment the explosion will begin and the musical theme will start in earnest.
With the next shot, a rhythmic drumbeat is added. The screams of the strings and bagpipes become suddenly more highly pitched and even louder. We see Cuchulainn charging through the battlefield on a large, heavy dark brown horse, a claymore held upward in his left hand. The horse is at a full run. It comes in at our left and veers to its right just after it reaches centre frame. It is not heading straight for the camera, but takes the curve without slackening its pace and exits just to the right of the camera by going past it. The camera is close to ground level, and we see the horse's hooves not far away as it leaves the frame. Their thunder is added to the din, and with it a fast series of sixteenth notes beaten onto a hard surface, unrelentingly constant, never letting up. All of these sounds persist at this incredible level throughout the whole scene, with the only variety provided by the music, and one other thing which I am about to mention.
That other thing begins with the next shot, in which the horse literally leaps ahead as horses will at a full run with a burst of energy. That other thing is Cuchulainn's battle cry. It is a high pitched scream with a sound not unlike that of a horse's scream, and even louder than the cacophony which already fills our ears. Cuchulainn charges in a frenzy at the chariots of Maeve. The horses, harnessed in pairs, are retreating at a walk and unevenly start to run as he comes into the frame from the left. We see the whole thing from near ground level in a wide angle pan toward the right which follows Cuchulainn's progress past the nearest line of alarmed soldiers in the chariots, who are just a step farther from the camera than he is.
Cuchulainn: "AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!"
I trust I need not continue. You get the idea. This truly amazing sound continues without a pause for breath for the entire scene, so just imagine it in the other shots I describe until I tell you it's over. As Cuchulainn sweeps past the soldiers his claymore cuts a swath through them as it is held aloft in his hand. It chops off the head of each soldier in the line at an impossible pace. A head flies through the air, blood spurting out of the neck each time, at a rate of four per second. The heads fly like bullets coming out of a machine gun. We see a closeup of a head flying into the air, blood gushing up under it through the bottom of the frame. We see another closeup of the same with a different head. Then we return to the wider angle shot for a continuation of the mowing. Both Cuchulainn and his horse never cease their forward moving frenzy.
From below we see Cuchulainn charging almost directly at the camera, his eyes mad, his mouth contorted. The horse's hooves thunder by just barely to the right of the camera. This is the shot in which the blood starts spurting out of Cuchulainn's head, and when this happens a roar like that of a lion and an even louder one like that of the sea are added to the din, to continue unchanged until the end of the onslaught. A vein running vertically up the middle of his forehead splits open. A gush of blood shoots straight up like a geyser and keeps on shooting. For the rest of the scene it will continue as relentlessly and unchangingly as the ongoing din in our eardrums. The blood drenches the ground right in front of us, spattering the entire frame.
The wide angle shot –the one with the flying heads– is repeated with three major differences. The camera is static and the angle is much wider. The action must be seen from a distance in order for us to see the third difference. The third difference is the blood. It is like a tidal wave. It streams out of Cuchulainn's head, bounces off the ground and rises behind him in two walls as high as a three storey building. Blood follows him like the wake of a water skier, only so high that it makes both him and his horse appear tiny in comparison. Just so you know how far away we are, I'll tell you that the blood comprises nine tenths of the frame by the time he has reached the right side of it. Because of this, we can't see the heads fly this time.
We see Laeg with Cuchulainn's chariot, simply plastered with trophy heads now, pulled by the black and white pair, and laden with spears that stick up like a porcupine's quills. Laeg is starting up the horses, following the line of Cuchulainn's first charge of four shots ago, and we get the same effect of almost being trampled on when the chariot rushes past the camera on the way out of frame. Then from behind Laeg, in the chariot, we approach the wall of blood being drawn in front of us with Cuchulainn before it. He is entering at the left of the frame, as we progress at a breakneck speed as though with the intention of cutting him off. We swerve to the right. This means that the wall of blood suddenly disappears out the left side of the screen, and we get a momentary glimpse of the terrified army on rampant horses as the shot ends.
Tracking backward in front of Laeg at shoulder level, we see Cuchulainn perform the famous 'salmon leap' onto the chariot, a genuine stunt and NOT a camera trick, from his horse onto the chariot behind Laeg. This is done at the same pace as everything else in the scene. Don't even think about using slow motion. As Laeg thunders toward the camera, Cuchulainn approaches the chariot from behind and does the jump. I think he should be bent almost double in the air, to make the jump more noticeable. In order that the blood will not obscure our view, Cuchulainn must approach not from directly behind Laeg but from his left, which is on the right side of the frame.
As soon as Cuchulainn is in the chariot we see his head rise above and behind Laeg's flanked by two tidal waves of blood, one on either side. Over his head, in his right hand he twirls an iron ball on a chain. He throws the ball through the left side of the frame, and the horses visibly spring forward in a frenzy. The exit is again just to the right of the camera and beyond it, with the usual effect of our feeling we've almost been killed.
All of this has taken no more than twelve bars of four. Please note that the wide angle shots have taken more time than the others, with the extreme wide angle pan as long as four bars.
Eight bars left, during which we have three quick closeups and a wide angle shot. Please note that the warriors being killed in the closeups are all painted with woad. First we see the ball descend from the upper left side of the frame to crash into the side of someone's head. Then we see three men leaning over the right side of their still moving chariot, impaled by the same spear. They have been impaled from the front and are leaning backward from the inside. The camera is tracking alongside the right side of the chariot. Then we see a man just beginning to topple off his horse, a battle axe in his neck. We see him from in front of his horse, toppling toward the right of the frame as the horse slows its pace. These shots take up four bars, but the editing must NOT be done evenly with each shot taking up a bar. Counterpoint is essential here.
The last four bars are taken up by a static wide angle shot from ground level. In the first two of these bars, Cuchulainn's chariot is exiting at a full run from mid-frame out through the left side, and during this time all the sounds except the music fade out. That means the ayayayes, the horses' hooves, the drumbeats, the roars, the symphony orchestra, the bagpipes and the screaming strings. You may have noticed that there never was any ambient sound except for the horses' hooves. In the last two bars the music ends as we see the battlefield without a living soul on it. That image persists for the next four seconds after the music has died away so the whole thing can sink in nicely. Then it goes into a slow fade.
To the tender, haunting strains of 'Smaointe' we see a series of images without ambient sound. First we see the last image from before Cuchulainn's battle frenzy, that of the battlefield strewn with children's bodies from ground level with the sweet profile of a seven year old boy in the immediate left foreground. Two pairs of women's arms enter, one pair through the left side of the frame, the other through the right side, and gently begin to lift the body. The pair on the left side has the boy's head cupped in its hands.
Then we see the second to last image from before the battle frenzy, that of a ten year old boy seen from straight above, a six year old lying with head cushioned on the older boy's stomach. From above, the arms of several women gently enter through all edges of the frame and begin to lift the bodies.
Next we see the third to last image, that of two boys lying head to head from ground level, with the rest of the bodies continuing to the sides of the frame, one on one side, the other on the other, just to beyond the shoulders. Two pairs of women's arms enter, one pair through the left side of the frame, the other through the right side, and place their hands on the boys' heads, one on each side.
After this we see the fourth to last image, that of a five year old seen from straight above, lying on his right side curled up as if he were in bed. Several pairs of women's arms are gently placed under the tender little body and begin to lift it. The shots are unhurried, and take up a full stanza. The movements must not be regular in rhythm. They must be in counterpoint to the music. They must not occur predictably on the beginning of phrases, and must not coincide with notes –not more than once, anyway.
Three shots are accompanied by the refrain of 'Smaointe'. First, a sideways tracking shot accompanies Cuchulainn's two arms as they carry one of the bodies, head toward the camera, held with the utmost care. It is being carried slowly toward the audience's left, though the camera keeps it always in centre frame. Then we see Laeg's arms carrying another body in the same manner and shot in the same way but slightly less in profile. After this a tracking shot to the left shows another of the bodies being passed gently from Cuchulainn's arms to those of a woman, and from hers to another woman, who holds it.
The music for a stanza of 'Smaointe' is repeated during the following sequence. This time, each shot does coincide rhythmically with a phrase of the music. First we see one of the bodies cradled in a woman's sleeved arms like a baby, on her left arm. The camera is straight ahead of the woman's arms.
Secondly, we see another of the bodies similarly cradled in another woman's arms, only cradled on her right arm and shot from her left side. She rocks it from side to side, then from side to side again like a baby, to the end of the musical phrase.
Thirdly, we see the head and shoulders of a very small dead boy in yet another woman's arms, cradled on the left arm, seen from beside the woman so that we are looking straight into the chubby face. The woman's right hand comes into frame as her fingertips caress the child's left temple with exquisite tenderness, smoothing back his hair.
Last, the camera pans upward from the same woman's other side, her left side, over her shoulder to look up at her face, very close, full of a mother's undying love, a mother's fond half smile on her lips just beginning to form a kiss, the eyes huge with love and grief, shining bright with endless tears, and the whole face seeming to revolve around those eyes which hold us riveted.
The camera slowly pans to the left at a wide angle across the still bloodied field, now dotted with low cairns, and visited by countless women in dark cloaks kneeling at the gravesites or passing between them to comfort each other.
We see Ferdia from Cuchulainn's point of view facing him at the pass, exactly as we saw Fergus, about ten paces away. Ferdia is standing motionless, legs apart, his shield on his left arm, two spears in his left hand and one in his right.
Cuchulainn's voice (out of frame): "Ferdia."
Ferdia: "When you kill me you can go after Maeve. I'm the last man."
Cuchulainn's voice: "The last man I'd ever want to kill, and the only one I probably cannot."
Ferdia: "I know. But it can't be as it was with Fergus."
Cuchulainn's voice: "Before we fight, I must know. What did Maeve say to you?"
Ferdia: "She offered me land if I killed you, and I refused. She offered me her daughter's hand, that I might be King of the West Country after her, but still I refused."
He looks down, ashamed.
Cuchulainn's voice: "And what then?"
Ferdia (his head still down): "I'm ashamed to say it, but still I must give in."
His mouth contorts. "She told me that she would dishonour my name throughout Eireaan for all time and say that Ferdia was a coward. And that I could not bear, to stand up as a coward before all men's eyes. I'm not brave enough for that. So..."
He looks up in a gesture of defiance that fails to disguise his true feelings, and gets a new grip on his spear.
"I heard that the men of Uillaid are afraid of their own shadows."
The camera tracks forward behind Ferdia's left shoulder. We can hear and count his ten paces as he walks toward his adversary. We see the motionless Cuchulainn, spear in hand, at closer and closer range. Two other spears lean against the rock face to Cuchulainn's right. One is the Gae Bolg. A medium shot shows these two spears. Then we see Ferdia in closeup leaning two of his three spears on the rock face to his right. His face is impassive.
From the cliff edge above we see the two men, small in the distance, square off and lunge at each other. They wield their spears rather like Kendo masters. The shot ends in a fade, to indicate the passing of time. We fade into a shot from behind Ferdia's shoulder as the battle continues, then fade out. A closeup shows Ferdia's hand taking his second spear from the cliffside to his right. This fades out too. We fade into a shot from behind Cuchulainn's shoulder at another point in the battle, then fade out. Then we see the Gae Bolg alone against the cliffside to Cuchulainn's right, and Cuchulainn's hand reaches out to grasp it.
From behind Ferdia, in slow motion, we see Cuchulainn slash with the spear below the frame. In slow motion the back of Ferdia's head sinks through the bottom of the frame, blood spatters the camera lens, and through the blood we see Cuchulainn's face screaming in grief. We see the scream turn to a stare of pure horror as he looks down upon the effect of the Gae Bolg. The shot ends in a fade.
We see, from slightly above and to one side, fifteen feet away, Cuchulainn sobbing over the body of his dead friend. The body is drenched in blood and Cuchulainn is on his knees with the upper half of his body lying over Ferdia's, his head buried in his arms beside Ferdia's head. The camera lingers over this image for eight seconds during which Cuchulainn's shoulders shake with sobs, his head buried.
An establishing wide angle shot shows what is left of Maeve's army, perhaps fifteen men, leading a magnificent red bull past Conor's fortress. Then we see Cuchulainn approaching a group from Maeve's army. In the foreground we see the back of Fergus's head. He is in the middle of the group, with people on either side of him, and beyond them we see Cuchulainn walking toward the camera. He holds up a red cedar branch. Cuchulainn walks right up to Fergus and looks him in the eyes.
Cuchulainn: "So, Fergus, while I was grieving over Ferdia's body it seems your army took the liberty of invading."
There is a pause.
"Have they got the red bull of Uillaid?" After a second he looks down, though his head does not move. Obviously he has received the answer in Fergus's eyes and it's not good.
"The time has come, Fergus, to remind you of our pact at the pass." He looks straight into Fergus's eyes. "I let you go then. Time to pay me back."
We see Fergus in closeup, looking at Cuchulainn over the camera.
Fergus: "It was the evil Conor did to Deirdre that brought out Maeve's ambition by driving away his warriors. And it was the evil of the Gae Bolg that gave her victory, for the Gae Bolg is a curse. And curse or no curse, it was an evil done in Uillaid in days long past that brought about the sickness here and drew out this war. For many are the strands we weave. And now it's the love I have borne for you and the virtue in the pact you made with me that will at least keep this tragedy from getting worse."
Next we see the backs of the two men, Fergus on the right, Cuchulainn on the left. Both are looking down thoughtfully, and Fergus is putting his left arm around Cuchulainn's shoulders. They are walking away from the group of warriors, toward the forest.
Fergus: "Whatever my duty to Maeve, I'm bound to you to lead her army home –what's left of it– if that's what you want me to do, and my own feeling has nothing to do with it."
He looks into Cuchulainn's eyes, and Cuchulainn looks into his, and his voice lowers as we see the two faces in profile.
"But between you and me, it's my feeling that I'm not sorry to do it, for this Maeve is bent on destroying all of us for some reason."
We see Maeve's face turning toward the camera in fury, against the backdrop of the forest.
Maeve (snaps): "How dare they retreat? I never ordered a retreat!" Beside herself with fury, she looks back and forth as if to search wildly for an answer. "What kind of loyalty is this?"
Cuchulainn's voice (out of frame): "The kind you deserve, Maeve. They know how you operate."
Maeve (looking beyond the camera at Cuchulainn, her eyes full of hatred): "You!" She draws herself up haughtily. "I suppose you're going to kill me, now that I'm in your land without my army."
We see Cuchulainn from Maeve's point of view.
Cuchulainn (laughing fiercely): "That's what you'd like, isn't it?"
There is a pause of four seconds as the wind blows gently on his hair and he looks piercingly just above the camera. When he speaks, it is dispassionately.
"Morigan."
We see Maeve standing with the wind in her long hair, and as she stands she becomes translucent and very pale grey, almost white, against the dark forest behind her. She shrinks to no more than four feet tall, her clothes change to Faery clothes, and her face changes to become Morigan's very different, but equally beautiful and equally defiant face. The strains of 'Lord Randal' begin faintly in the background. Then we return to Cuchulainn in closeup as he speaks.
Cuchulainn (quietly, unmoving): "They're here to stay, Morigan. Time does not stand still."
There is a pause. He looks concerned.
"You so seldom use your true name. I have to speak it if I want to see you, Morigan the shape shifter. Because if people see you as you really are, they'll see you misuse power and magic. They'll see you try to make everyone the same. And they'll want you to change."
He is moved by an inspiration, and he is sincerely trying to get her to understand. His voice is gentle, coaxing.
"People are supposed to get along with each other. They're supposed to learn from each other."
We switch back to Morigan.
"Only you refuse to grow with the changes, to make them good changes. Why can't you do that, Morigan?"
As he speaks, the translucent figure's face becomes deeply sad. The shot ends in a slow fade.
We see the backs of Laeg and Cuchulainn as they stand on a hilltop looking down on the forest below. They are almost in silhouette. We hear their voices, though we do not see their heads move.
Cuchulainn: "So she took the bull by stealth. But no one in the West Country heeds her now?"
Laeg: "That's right."
Cuchulainn: "They learn the hard way. And what of the animal?"
Laeg: "From what I hear, they got nothing from the red bull of the north. As soon as it arrived there the white bull of the west broke loose and charged, and the red charged back. It was a bloody sight, everyone said."
Cuchulainn: "Did they destroy each other?"
Laeg: "Yes."
illustration courtesy of The Tain Experience
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