Clan Cormac

Chapter 1

Ireland 908 AD

Saint Cormac

In the year 908AD, Ireland found itself separated into a handful of kingdoms, each of which is loosely comprised of many smaller ones. These smaller kingdoms number nearly one hundred and fifty and, on average, are composed of roughly three thousand people. The various kings and tribal clan leaders are frequently at war with their neighbors. Alliances and pacts are made, then broken, and then reconstructed regularly.

Cormac mac Cuilennian was an Irish Bishop named King of Munster, thus becoming the first religious and temporal leader of Ireland. He was known as a scholarly man, reading and writing in English, Greek, Hebrew, and Latin. He was a devoutly pious man, sworn to a life of celibacy and revered by all who encountered him.

He led his army of several thousand men onto the battlefield at Bellaghmoon against King Flan of Meath. During the battle, he was thrown from his horse, and his neck was broken. His enemies lopped off his head from his body and paraded it around the battlefield atop a ten-foot pike, and the battle was lost.

As the wounded were tended to and the dead carted off for burial in the aftermath of the conflict, a small child wandered amid the carnage. The boy, not yet at the age of three, stopped at each body he came upon. Kneeling, he brushed dirt, mud, and blood from the faces of the dead men studying each for a moment before moving on to the next.

Hours later, the boy sat atop the still-warm body of a mighty brown horse just recently dead from wounds it had suffered during the battle. The boy surveyed the scene before him with an uncomprehending stare and watched as the sun darkened over him.

A nobleman wearing a blood-spattered cloak about his body slid off of his mount and, with one hand, plucked the child up in the air. Holding him at arm’s length, he turned him to and fro for a good look. The child, as it had all day, made no cry as it stared into the man’s black eyes. The boy was passed to an older woman for keeping until another two days had passed, and the nobleman returned.

The man now wore a fine outfit of bright shiny light chainmail. A large plume of bright red feathers adorned his helmet, and a matching red sash was draped across his chest. He asked the older woman about the child and was only mildly surprised to find out that no parents could be found neither alive nor dead. The woman shared that the boy seemed normal, perhaps a bit underfed and not very talkative but healthy enough. Since the boy had no known name and could not or would not communicate any information about the matter, the nobleman decided to give the lad a new name.

He knelt on one knee, his left hand grasping the hilt of his broadsword, and his right hand made the sign of the cross as he lifted his face in silent prayer. He stood up and stated, “I shall name him in honor of our beloved King. Henceforth this lad shall be known as Angus Cormac, and he shall live under my protection.”

Young Angus grew up stout and true with a thick trunk and massive arms; soon he would find work in a small forge working iron. At fifteen, he married a young lassie, and they soon welcomed a son, Aidan MacCormac, the Mac indicating son of Cormac. In all, the couple would bring six male and two female offspring into the world. One of the boys and both of the girls would be taken in infancy by illness and disease.

The five remaining sons named Aidan, Aidrian, Niall, Ronan, and Rodnan would each leave home to find their separate ways out in the world. Each would leave a legacy that would last long after their earthly departure.

“You’ve got to do your own growing, no matter how tall your grandfather was.”