400: Celtic folklore: The Baddies

This week, on Myths and Legends, we're in Celtic folklore and we'll see why, if a talking fox approaches you on the road with solutions to all of your problems and a lamb's head to eat, you should maybe hit the pause button on both of those things.

And how, if five fairy riders invite you to crash a wedding, maybe make sure kidnapping isn't on the agenda first.

The creature this time is that water man horse, who has not read the Odyssey.

This is Myths and Legends episode 400 The Baddies.

This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore.

Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins.

Others are stories that might be new to you.

but are definitely worth a listen.

Today, we're back in Celtic folklore with two stories of choices.

Good choices, bad choices, kidnappy choices.

We run the full gamut this week.

We'll jump in with Prince Ian, who's out hunting and who just made an amazing discovery.

The blue falcon flapped out of the tree.

A blue falcon.

Ian Darich knocked an arrow and let it fly.

He had done this so many times it was nearly automatic.

And as the darker blue falcon soared off into the white sky, it seemed it was too automatic.

The bird got away.

It was the first time Ian had missed in years, since he learned to hunt.

A blue feather fluttered to the ground and After Ian dug through the autumn leaves on the forest floor to get it, he brought it home.

Home had once been a nice place.

Once, before his mother's coughs became more and more ragged, until they ceased forever.

Until

her.

My boy, the king clapped, rising from his throne, you've grown to be tall and strong and handsome, and you can run and shoot and swim and dive better than any lad your own age in the country.

You know how to sail about and sing songs to the harp and tell tales of the deeds of your fathers.

His stepmother grimaced every time.

She knew.

They all knew.

What game did you bring us from your hunts?

She sat, barely looking at him.

Ian said none, sadly.

Only this.

He produced a blue feather from his pack.

The court was floored.

A blue feather.

A blue feather slightly larger than the naturally blue feathers of the kingfisher, barn swallow, and the Eurasian blue tit, which are all native to Ireland.

This was

amazing, astounding, a

lie, a lie, and a charade.

The king was puzzled.

How was this a fun game where people guess a word from pantomimed clues?

The queen said no, it was an absurd pretense intended to create a pleasant or respectable appearance.

And there was nothing about this boy that was respectable.

The king said, Hold up.

His son had grown to be tall and strong and handsome and can run and shoot and swim and dive better than any lad his own age in the country.

He knows how to sail about and sing songs to the harp and tell tales of the deeds of his fathers.

Oh, he's telling tales, the queen said.

He was lying to his king, and that was punishable by death.

Probably, but she was magnanimous.

She would give him until the end of autumn, when the last leaf fell, to find this blue bird.

What a ridiculous thing.

If he failed to bring it back, he would be turned into a bundle of sticks.

She She held up a finger, but that's not to say he gets off that easy.

Until then, you will always be cold, wet, and dirty, and your shoes will always have pools in them.

The king said, no, that was the worst.

What in the world?

Please stop fighting.

But Ian ignored him, laughing through a shiver.

Oh, so they're cursing now, fine.

He would go get that blue falcon that definitely exists.

But until he did, she needed to remain between the house and the castle, and no matter which direction she faced, she would always be looking into the wind.

The king said no.

Also, how were they literally cursing each other?

Were they magic?

Was he magic?

He looked around for someone to curse and then swore.

Darn it, he loved everyone and didn't want to curse anyone.

Curse is a bulliant and agreeable nature.

And then he felt sad and surly.

Oh no, it worked.

But yes, they could curse each other, and yes, those curses worked.

The queen was immediately pulled to where she was standing between their home and the castle, standing outside in the courtyard with the wind always at her face, and Ian, well, Ian felt miserable.

Cold and dirty, and absolutely the worst of all as anyone who has a child and a dog come in from playing outside in the winter and has soaked their socks with snow.

shoes with an unending supply of cold water.

The good thing about feeling cold and dirty all the time was that it didn't give Ian any extra incentive to linger in his father's house.

He didn't know what life would be like as a sentient bundle of sticks and, frankly, wasn't keen to find out.

He left the following morning.

Really, it was one bird he had seen the previous day.

It couldn't have gotten far.

After day eight or nine of walking, Ian had to admit that he was wrong, and he was in trouble.

He was surprised to find, one evening by the fire, a voice echoing his anxiety.

Fortune is against you, Ian Derich,

but I have the cheek and the hoof of a sheep to give you.

And with these you must be content.

The voice came from the forest, and he shot up to see a

fox.

A talking fox.

The fox rose with a smile, and, as we talked about in the Mighty Miko episode, when foxes smile, it's actually pretty adorable.

Oh, hello, talking fox.

Ian greeted the talking animal, because when you and your stepmom curse each other to be bundles of sticks in a month, it's nowhere near outside the realm of possibility that animals can talk.

Gilimertin, the fox corrected.

Not just any animal.

He was Gilimertin.

Ian searched his memory of old Celtic stories.

Was Gili Mertin something he should know?

A reference to like a famous talking fox?

No, just the story?

Cool.

Looking down to the sheep's head and hoof that the fox had with him, Ian said, thanks.

He wasn't going to ask where the fox got those things, but he was really hungry.

His provisions were running low.

I got them from a sheep, the fox looked at the man.

Oh, yeah, I could see that.

And he did not give them willingly, the fox clarified.

Yeah, no, that tracks.

Ian shifted uncomfortably.

Could they eat?

After a dinner of sheep cheek and hoof, which the internet assures me is a delicacy.

It's not my thing, personally.

But no judgment here.

I think if you have to kill an animal, it's probably probably best to use as much as you can, and apparently the head contains a good amount of meat.

I link to a Reddit thread in the show notes for anyone who wants to see a cooked sheephead.

But be warned, it's an actual cooked sheephead.

Hey, so I'm on this quest, Ian floated after he finished picking the last of the cheek meat.

But the fox cut him off.

I know.

Oh, then you could help me find the blue falcon?

Of course, but

after snuggle time, the fox said, curling up at the young man's side.

Okay then, Ian said and went to bed.

It was weird that a talking fox wanted to curl up at his side, but he didn't dislike it.

The falcon that you seek is in the keeping of the giant of the five heads, and the five necks, and the five humps.

I will show you the way to his house, and I counsel you to do his bidding, nimbly and cheerfully, and, above all, to treat his birds kindly, for in this manner he may give you his falcon to feed and care for.

And when this happens, wait till the giant is out of his house.

Then throw a cloth over the falcon and bear her away with you.

Only see that none of her feathers touches anything within the house or evil will befall you.

The young man opened his eyes.

Um, what?

Sorry, he was just waking up.

He needed a coffee before that much exposition.

Coffee won't be in Ireland until around the sixteenth century, the fox said.

Fine.

Tea, then, the man rubbed his eyes.

Even later, like eighteenth century, the fox said.

You do have some small beer with you, beer with a lower alcohol content, typically point five to two percent ABV, enough to keep the microorganisms from growing.

Ian shrugged and guzzled the beer from the skin at his side.

Okay, what was that about the giant with the humps?

Once Ian was up to speed on what needed to be done, he stomped out the fire and followed the fox to the giant's lair.

Yeah, it's a house.

You can just call it a house, the giant with the five heads said when he answered the door.

How can I help you?

The young man pointed behind him his friend said that the giant was in need of some helper on the farm.

And Ian could feed birds, tend to pigs.

He could feed and milk a cow and feed birds.

He could also feed and milk goats and sheep and feed birds, too.

Ian was being very subtle.

But even though the giant caught that he said birds three times, the giant really needed help.

He threw open his giant door and bade Ian to enter.

And there was no trick.

Ian worked for the giant, and the giant was happy to give him room and board.

Ian could leave anytime he wanted and wouldn't be eaten.

It did take a few days to work up to the blue falcon, but finally, Ian had access.

The bird was a brilliant blue, and Ian cared for it until its feathers were even brighter than before.

I honestly don't know if bird feather colors are indicative of overall health.

Please let me know if that's the case.

But the bird wasn't the only one who was feeling good.

We have like four pets now.

It's too many pets.

We also love to travel.

Finding care for three cats and a dog was by far the most difficult part of traveling.

So the five-headed giant breathed five successive sighs of relief.

He finally had someone here that he could trust to look after his animals.

Ian learned that his boss was going to take a night and go visit his brothers that lived just over the mountain.

Ian told him not to worry, he would see to everything.

And the next morning, just after the giant disappeared over the mountain, Ian stuffed the blue falcon in his cage, covered it, and stole out of the house.

But as soon as they made it out of the door, The light hit the blanket, the bird shrieked, and a single feather drifted down.

And when it touched the door frame, the feather began screaming.

Now, Ian had the same reaction I think we all would if a feather drifted down and began shrieking.

What is going on?

What do you even do in that situation?

You apparently stand there and wait to be turned into a nice, fine-grained paste by the giant.

But the giant was a reasonable man.

giant.

He asked what Ian was doing, and Ian told him about his stepmother and the curse and the blue falcon.

And the man giant said, well, why didn't Ian just ask for it?

Ian said, just ask for it?

Really?

Yeah, you know that thing that people do when they want something someone else has?

The giant said.

Look, he didn't want to hurt Ian, and he legitimately wanted the best for the kid.

If Ian wanted the Blue Falcon, he only needed to bring the giant the white sword of light from the big woman of Darad.

Ian said, Oh, that sounded surprisingly reasonable.

Where do the big woman of Darad live?

I mean, probably Darad, but that's not exactly my problem now, is it?

The giant said.

Regardless, if Ian brought him the white sword, he could have the blue falcon.

Ian sighed, okay, he would be back.

Unless his boss wanted to go take his vacation to his brother's house.

Ian would be happy to stay here and watch, his eyes went to the falcon, watch everything.

Nodding, the giant said, no, he was gonna stay here now.

Nice try, though.

We'll see Ian definitely not continue to do the same things over and over again, but that will be right after this.

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You had one job, the fox said when Ian made it back to camp.

Ian looked down at the fire with the did Gilly Martine make dinner?

I knew you'd fail at your one job, the fox smiled.

Hey, you could have had a little faith in me, Ian shouted.

And where would that have gotten me?

But really, I'll help you find the thing the giants want.

Just have some dinner.

We'll leave it first light.

And they did.

The fox seemed to know exactly where the land of the big women was.

That should come as no surprise to anyone, and it didn't, not even Ian.

But the land wasn't what surprised him.

It was the I land.

Well, that's it.

I need a boat, and I won't be able to get one before winter.

I'm going to get turned into a bundle of sticks.

Then I'll have to work my way back to being human with a whole other story.

At least I already have my animal sidekick, Ian said, squinting desperately for that silver lining.

Oh, no, you'll just be burned alive.

Like, legally, she can't immolate a prince, but kindling?

No jury in the world, because it's it's not a crime, the fox said.

And the prince needed to relax.

Did he not think that a fox could turn into a boat?

Ian blinked, no?

Why would he think that?

Why would anyone think that ever?

Because this fox can turn into a boat, the fox grinned, and turned into a boat.

Now, the story kind of glosses over what the boat looks like.

Is it hairy and fleshy, or is it like the king of red lions, where it's wood, but with a talking foxhead?

head by the way i'm not all the way through wind waker so do not spoil it don't tell me if link defeats gannon and saves the world in this one please let's say it was a big fleshy hairy raft with his little fox paws paddling underneath because that's both the cutest and the most deeply unsettling version of the fox cruise when they made it to the island of the big women gilly martin told him one thing And this is small, but after you offer to work for the seven big women, and after they trust you enough to leave you, and after you steal the sword, make sure the sheath doesn't touch anything in the house as you're leaving, or else they'll return and we'll have to do this whole thing all over again.

Ian winked and pointed.

He heard his fox buddy loud and clear.

One sword coming right up.

A few weeks later he returned to the clearing.

The fox would never believe what happened.

Like the male giant, the seven big women trusted the young man enough to not just hire him, but allow him into their house to cook and clean for them.

They even let him shine the sword and then, like the giant, they left one day and he tried to steal it.

If you've ever been carrying a shovel over your shoulder through a Home Depot, come within a few inches of sending a friend to the hospital with some unpredictable turns, you know how difficult it can be to carry something like a sword 10 feet through a doorway without it hitting the doorway.

The fox said, it's not.

Why didn't you just hold it in front of you, like grasp it like Boromir laying down in his casket or something?

Well, I don't understand that reference.

And spoilers, probably, Ian said.

Regardless, he made a deal with the women to not kill him, and for him to get the white sword legitimately, he just needed the bay colt of the King of Aaron.

Bay being the color of the colt, a brown body with black pointed coloration, Ian pointed out, having definitely not needed to look that up.

I know, the fox said.

And he knew where to find the King of Aaron.

He popped back into his boat form, and as Ian grimaced with the hairy, fleshy form of the fox shifting all around him, he was disappointed when he realized they were going to need to do this at least two more times on their way back.

Okay, so stablehand, what are we going to do?

Gillie Martine the Fox asked after dinner at the camp outside the city.

Be a stablehand, Ian clapped.

And

steal a horse.

And

not let anything but the horse's hooves touch the stable or else it will go ill for me.

Ian stood.

All right, time to go.

Okay, so don't be mad, Ian said, returning a few weeks later.

There must have been a war or something because everybody is looking for work, Ian laughed.

He offered to help in the stables.

He tended the horses.

He brushed and groomed them.

He excelled to the point where he was offered the coveted position of groom for the king's bay horse.

Ian laughed.

More like, bay horse.

The fox looked at him.

Because he loves it so much, B-A-E, it's like, I've heard people say it.

I'm not 100% on the meaning.

I think it means like his precious little baby.

Yeah, no, I get it.

It's a homonym.

the fox said.

Don't try Zoomer slang.

So, since Ian wasn't dead from trying to steal from the king, the fox could assume it went the way the others had gone.

He would get the bay colt if he did something.

Yeah, and this one is a little iffy in info and execution, and well, morals?

The king wanted the daughter of the king of the franks.

Let's hope to marry, but isn't that just like kidnapping?

Also, King of the Franks, like how many franks are there in the world that they need their own king?

And where was this kingdom of guys named Frank?

The fox decided to let that one marinate a bit.

Oh, wait, no, my bad.

That's France.

Okay, well, that solves one problem.

Maybe I can convince the princess to come so that things are a bit less gray, morally speaking.

The only other thing is how to get to France from Ireland.

But Guillé Martine was already transforming.

Oh.

Okay, here we are, France, the fox said, transforming back into an animal as Ian stepped onto the shore.

Presumably they had been in France for days at this point, having gone up the Seine to Paris, because as far as I can tell, that's where anyone calling themselves the King of the Franks would live, even if the story is playing a little fast and loose with the time period.

Okay, go and tell the king and everyone that your grand ship was beached on the shore, the fox commanded Ian, who looked up at the castle by the Seine and then back to Guillimartine, who said, what, it's technically true.

The fox was Ian's boat and he was now on the beach.

Just go, it'll all work out.

Perhaps because of the curse, maybe because he just spent a week on the back of a fox in the middle of the sea, He did actually look like he was shipwrecked.

The king and queen and, when she emerged, Princess of the Franks took pity on him.

The king had to survey the damage though.

Ian said that wasn't necessary.

The king said no, it really was.

The Seine was a major connecting waterway for the rest of continental Europe, and it had to remain clear.

So, as the evening faded to night, the small royal family followed Ian down to the rocks where they found a beautiful, grand ship floating out there in the river.

I thought you said you were shipwrecked.

The king marveled at the the vessel that outmatched any not only of his own fleet, but any he had ever seen.

Ian shook his head.

Yeah, I guess he had been mistaken.

His ship was fine.

Way better than riding a stinky, hairy, fleshy fox over six hundred nautical miles.

The king was confused.

That was an oddly specific comparison, but wait, was that music?

They all stopped talking and listened to the beautiful harp music drifting from the boat.

The king and queen were silence, but the princess was moved to tears.

Wiping her eyes, she said she had to go see the source of that music.

The king called a rowboat over and led his daughter aboard.

Ian followed and rowed her, saying, They'd be they'd be right back.

So you're like, your dad's mean, right?

He's like making you marry an old man or something?

Ian asked as he rowed over.

No, my father's always been kind and always respected my autonomy and wishes.

I'm allowed to choose my suitor when I feel I'm ready to marry.

The princess smiled.

Oh,

got it.

But your mom, though, she's like an actual witch, right?

Ian asked as they made their way up to the boat.

As the princess climbed the ladder, she said, tragically, her mother died in childbirth.

That was her stepmother.

Oh, and she's evil, right?

Like trying to murder you?

Ian breathed.

The princess grimaced.

What?

No, she was the perfect image of love, devotion, and sacrifice.

She said she loved the princess as her daughter, and the princess believed it.

She was truly blessed.

Where was that music coming from?

She began to search the ship.

30 minutes later, deep in the bowels of the ship, looking for the harp player that always seemed to be a room away, Ian was still fishing for that justification.

Okay, but like, your father loves you.

And your mom is perfect, but they promised the princess's hand to anyone who could answer a riddle, and one man did, but he's a violent, smelly ogre, and he's coming to marry you, right?

Gonna take you to his cave,

the prince said, as he followed the princess back up above deck to hear the seagulls and see the

sea.

Right?

What is this?

What have you done?

The princess cried.

How were they in the sea, out of sight of the coast of France?

The trip up the Seine alone should have taken days.

Ian held up his hands.

Don't be mad.

Cool reveal she was gonna be a queen.

So fun, right?

She demanded an explanation.

So Ian sighed.

Okay, he promised to retrieve her for the king of Dublin.

Kidnap, you mean?

Oh, I'm sorry.

Is that French?

I don't speak French.

Ian shook his head and moved on.

He would trade her for a horse.

A nice horse, he emphasized, when the princess began to object to being traded for livestock.

He would trade the horse to the big woman for the sword and the sword to the giant for the blue falcon, so that he wasn't turned to kindling.

I'm not marrying the king of Dublin.

I'd sooner marry you, the princess said, the tone doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence to really convey the meaning, which the prince, Ian, missed when he took the sentence at face value.

Rather marry

him?

He allowed himself a small smile.

She didn't say another word to him, as they sailed in the new and improved fox back to Ireland.

There,

when they made a quick stop at the caves and the cliffs on the way into the city, they told the princess to stay there.

They had some business to handle.

The princess was a little confused why they weren't trading her to the King of Dublin like they said they would, but I guess chose to look for the winds where she could find them.

We're not taking her, though?

Ian whispered to the fox when they were far enough away.

He thought that was the plan with this whole legend of Zelda trading game thing they were doing right now.

The beautiful woman by his side said no.

She was marrying him.

Ian gulped.

Hello, strange lady.

Where did his fox friend go?

Really, Ian?

The woman said in the fox's voice.

Ian nodded.

Got it, caught up.

Okay.

So he would trade the foxy lady, sorry, he couldn't resist, for the bay horse, and then the fox would live as queen?

You rode here in a ship made out of my body, just wait on the shore, the fox said.

And Ian did.

The king was entranced by the young woman Ian brought from beyond the sea.

And since pictures didn't really exist, and the fox threw in a couple of homelet du fromages in their conversation, the king really did believe the woman was the French princess.

The king of Dublin gave Ian the bay colt and told him to scram.

He wanted to spend some time getting to know his wife to be.

Ian was at least glad to not be trading an actual person for a horse, even though he had disembarked with that exact intention, and figured the fox could handle itself.

And, as the animal loped among the pebbles on the beach to come to find Ian, he seemed to be in good enough spirits.

Ian asked how the fox got out.

Gillimertine laughed.

He was a magic fox.

There wasn't much he couldn't get out of.

Ian said, Oh, okay, so magic?

What?

No.

I mauled him until he went unconscious.

Oh,

okay, wait, wait.

Shouldn't we be running then?

Ian looked back to the torches by the castle sparking to life.

Yeah, probably, the fox said, and they rushed off to the water, where the fox was already turning into the boat.

Wait, your ship is a fox?

The princess said when they landed at their next stop, the island of the big women.

Ian looked.

Actually, it seemed their boat was currently a horse.

But yes, he's sometimes a fox.

It's all very confusing.

You know, I really don't mind, he said to the fox.

It's really just, it's a horse.

It's a bay horse, the fox horse neighed,

as if being one of the most common horse colors made a difference.

Regardless, Ian followed the fox's lead.

He traded the fake bay horse to the big woman, got the white sword, and left as they were all, yes, all of them, piling onto the horse to take their new possession out for a spin.

I picture the cursed-looking centa steed from Studson Studio.

a YouTube channel we watch with our son.

I'll link it in the show notes.

Ten minutes later, the fox hopped back to land.

I don't really need to know, Ian said, waiting by the shore.

He saw all the big women cheering as they bounded through the air on the scentesteed.

And now only the fox returned.

Oh, I leapt over a giant cliff and then changed back to a fox.

They all careened to their deaths.

The fox laughed.

Ian said he, once again, didn't need to know.

Nudging the French princess awake, Ian said it was time to go.

They had one more stop before home.

You know, I'm really glad you came.

The five-headed giant smiled at Ian, holding the blue falcon.

Ian said, yep, him too.

No, but really.

The giant's hand clasped the young man's shoulder.

It was rare to find someone who not only did what they said they would do, but when they messed up, like Ian had when he tried to steal the bird initially, did what was necessary to make it right.

Ian was a young man of honor and integrity, and it was important that the giant acknowledge that.

Now you go back home and avoid that curse of yours, the five-headed giant said.

He was going to go full Star Wars kid with the sword he had dreamed about possessing his entire life.

This was just the best day ever.

Thank you so much.

Ian

swallowed hard.

Yep.

He followed the path back to the campsite, where the princess was with the bay colt and the white sword.

Five brief screams were cut short at the cabin behind them, and it wasn't long before the fox scampered to them across the moors.

Well, that was taken care of.

The princess screamed, and Ian pointed.

Um, he had a little bit of

too much blood on his arm.

The fox looked down and laughed.

Whoops.

He said that when he got spinning as a sword, it was hard to control what happened.

He'd take care of it.

Oh, don't, don't lick it, Ian shuddered.

The princess couldn't watch, and the fox took his time.

Ian and the princess rode into the kingdom of the prince's father, well after dark, but as they approached the wall, the fox yipped up to Ian to take out the white sword and hold it against his nose just for a bit.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of the city, the fox said that that was good enough.

Ian might have asked what that was about, but at that moment, he was warm.

For the first time in weeks, his feet were dry.

The curse had been lifted.

Ian and the princess entered the kingdom, and Ian commanded the servants to go wake his father and stepmother.

He had returned.

The French princess shivered in the castle, and just as Ian started to look, the fox finished piling wood at his feet.

From the courtyard.

Ian thanked Gilly Martine and scraped the ash away from the banked fire, piled the kindling on, and blew.

The wood whistled in a weird way, but it must have just been wet,

having been outside.

The king shuffled into the room, his son's presence giving him a brief respite from his surliness and despair.

His wife, the woman he loved, was stuck outside.

His son had been cursed, gone for months.

It had all been terrible.

Well, it's over now.

I have a magical horse, a sword, and a wonderful wife to be, the young man said.

Then he turned to his servants.

Where was his stepmother?

He was losing valuable gloating time.

They shrugged.

They had no idea.

For weeks she had been stuck in the courtyard, and now she was gone.

Oh, no, she's not gone.

She's right here, the fox said with a grin.

Ian actually just put her on the fire.

And yeah, she had turned into a bundle of sticks, per their curses, when he rode back into the kingdom.

The king shrieked and ran to get the kindling from the blaze, but they were mostly charred and ashen now.

Ian had to pull his father from the fireplace and drag his burning coat off of him after he tried to hug what remained of the sticks.

Well, I suppose that would have been me if not for your help, Ian said.

He would give the fox anything he wished, even allowing him to carry off livestock.

The fox laughed.

Yeah, he already did that.

Hey, he was wondering, did Ian know what foxes did in folklore?

We're tricksters.

And these past few weeks have just been so fun.

Enjoy the spoils of your victory.

Ian

looked around, to the burning wooden remains of his stepmother, to his father, catatonic with grief, and the woman he had kidnapped to be his wife, who hated him.

At least I have your friendship.

He turned to the fox, who was gone, leaving him alone, completely alone, his victory already beginning to sour.

Somewhere, as the first winter wind blew, a fox laughed.

I like stories where we need to look back and decide where we stopped rooting for the person.

For me, it was the kidnapping, even though Ian wasn't really an active party in it.

In fact, he was barely the active party in anything.

It was his tacit approval of the fox's actions that allowed them to continue, brought on by the deeper hole he kept digging himself.

By the end, he won the curse war and would be king soon, but it cost him everything.

My head canon was that the fox would end up with a lot to scavenge when the princess of France was able to get a message to her father, leading to a war between the two kingdoms.

The next story today is similar, but different in all the ways that count.

We'll jump in with a farm boy who's been dreaming of something more, but that will, once again, be right after this.

New Year, New You.

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This time of year, every cat is an indoor cat, am I right?

People aren't much different.

It's freezing out, so right now we're all indoor humans.

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Gulish heard the wind whip over the wrath,

the hill fort in the country.

Sometimes, well, sometimes he left his father's farmhouse to come here.

It was one of the few places he could be alone, and he would sit and look at the stars and dream of anywhere.

Anywhere but an Irish hill fort in the country.

In his father, he saw the man he would be in a few short years, and the man his grandfather had been before time wore enough of him away that he could no longer keep his eyes open.

Gulish loved his family and he was grateful, but he wanted more.

Then he clutched his cloak closer to his side.

The wind was very bad tonight.

Then, just as he was about to rise to leave, he thought he heard voices.

voices on the wind.

My horse, my bridle, and my saddle, my horse, my bridle and my saddle.

He froze the the fay folk, the fairies.

They were calling their mounts.

Then a wild idea took hold.

What if

no

Then he took a deep breath.

My horse, my bridle and saddle.

A shape began to take form in the whirlwind.

A horse, a bridle, and a saddle.

A beautiful big horse, a bridle of gold, and a saddle of silver appeared before Goulish.

So he leapt atop it.

The moment he was atop the horse, the wind no longer affected him.

In fact, all around the hill fort, fairy men rode atop mounts of their own.

They spun their horses until they were all facing Goulish.

So, are you coming with us tonight or not?

Goulish thought about it, but only for a moment.

Was he?

Wasn't this this everything he was literally just dreaming about?

He told them to lead on.

So they galloped, and soon they were at the Irish Sea.

Gulish looked at the men.

Well, this had been fun.

But the men, breathing the deep sea air, called out, one by one, high over cap, and their horses leapt into the sea, or would have.

They leapt and they kept leaping.

climbing higher and higher.

Soon, Gulish was alone on the Irish shore.

He knew that this was the point.

A joint ride through the countryside was one thing, but this was a step into an altogether different adventure, a different life.

The Ghoulish that returned might not be the same one that left.

In short, it was everything he had always wanted.

He swallowed hard and called out, High over cap.

Ireland disappeared below him and soon the sea as well, with Goulish springing above even the clouds, his horse rushing to greet its herd.

Each man gripped his cloak close, and they didn't speak until they touched down on land.

Goulish, do you know where you are now?

one of the men asked.

His eyes seemed to spark and smoke.

Goulish, shivering off the last of the cold from the clouds, said no.

The fairies laughed at him, as if that was an unreasonable thing to say.

We're in France, one of the fairies managed when they stopped laughing.

They were going to a wedding.

Goulish blinked.

Okay, cool, let's go to a French wedding.

He was expecting something in a backyard or a church, but as they approached the palace, he learned that it was, apparently, the wedding of the Princess of France, Isabelle.

Okay, I'm not dressed for this.

Goulich wasn't wrong.

We don't know what year this was, but as this is probably said in the early modern period, let's say that the French aristocracy was not known for its...

restraint.

That would lead to some problems a few years down the road.

The Fay Fey men laughed again as they got off their horses and threw another cloak over Ghoulish.

And as they walked up to the men at the door, it was like the men couldn't see them at all, because the men couldn't see them at all.

You see, as they studied the men, the poor Princess Isabel was going to marry the son of a king, a man that she hates.

We're here to rescue her, but we can't put her on our horses, so that's why we need you.

The Fey men laughed again.

They like to do that.

Ghoulish said, well, here he was.

Sure, he would help them.

The lead Feyman grinned, said a word Gouleesh couldn't comprehend, and in a moment, they were in the palace.

Which one is the princess?

Ghoulish whispered.

You don't need to do that.

They can't hear you, the Feyman said over the sounds of the feast.

Also, the princess was the one sitting at the table in the front of the room.

Is this your first royal wedding?

He looked the farm boy up and down.

Oh, yeah, that's right.

She said to marry a prince, and even though she has put it off for three years, she's now eighteen and must marry, the leader said.

Oh, she's gonna marry, marry all five of us, the fairy man snickered to his four fae friends.

He means we're gonna rescue her and she'll like have adventures and fun times in fairyland.

The leader scowled at the one that spoke up.

That's what that meant, not that literal meaning of the sentence.

Gulish laughed nervously.

Oh, okay.

It was about time to dance, and while the whole room readied itself, Goulish looked at the faces of the Fey men as they watched the princess, staring at her like wild dogs.

What had he gotten himself into?

When it was time for the princess to rise, to marry the prince and put on the ring, Goulish saw the Fey man extend a foot, tripping her, and she tumbled forward and vanished into the waiting cloak of the man on the floor.

At least, that's what the room saw.

Goulish saw what the fairies did, the 18-year-old Princess Isabel, kicking and fighting and raging against the cloak that was becoming a bag.

As they dragged her from the hall, they said the words again, and again, the six men were outside.

The men called out, my horse, my bridle, my saddle, and their horses appeared, but Goulish didn't.

The commotion inside the palace behind them was growing.

The Feyman, who had been playful up until this point, turned with a growl.

Gulish was to say the words and take her.

There were fates worse than being left penniless in a foreign country, and the Fae would make sure Gulish experienced every one of them.

So, Gulish called his horse.

The Feyman removed the cloak from the princess and tossed her over the back of it, and they rose into the air.

The whole ride home, the princess shivered, not knowing enough about what was happening to even weep.

Ulish had to think of something.

He hated to think that he had been tricked and, because of him, because he went along with this, she would be left with...

with them.

He could take solace in knowing that they only needed one human, so anyone could have followed them to France.

This part might have been inevitable, but he could be the difference.

Okay, so what did he know?

Presumably the ring fort was the way back to their world.

All the old stories had it so that they had to stay in shadow and work at night, and the sun was already warming the clouds behind them.

He had an idea.

It was risky.

It would be painful.

It would be the only way.

They lowered in the air to approach the hill fort.

Kulish breathed, pulled the princess to his side, and rolled from the horse.

It would take an impressive amount of calculations to hit a thatched roof from 50 feet in the air while you're moving on a super fast horse, and not say the ground around the house or the stone walls.

Gulish didn't do any of those calculations, but it still worked out, and the thatch, though firm, gave enough cushion for their fall.

They rolled from the roof, and Goulish rushed her over to the stables, telling her to stay low.

And they made it.

Gulish heard a shout in the wind and, from the stable, saw the shadows in the morning sky overhead.

They were retracing their trip after the horse arrived without any riders at the Hill Fort.

The Fey Men were shouting that they had to get back.

It was nearly dawn.

The lead one swore and called out one last thing before the morning grew quiet.

She'll be without speech from now on.

There was an extended interchange where Goulish tried to speak to Isabel to reassure her, but couldn't understand why she wasn't talking back to him, despite hearing the Fey Men curse her with exactly that thing.

I don't know what he thought was going to happen anyway.

He doesn't speak French.

Looking at his family's house, he knew that no one there would believe him, that he rode to France in a night with Feymen to kidnap/slash rescue a princess.

So he took her hand and led her to another.

It was his grandma's house.

They arrived as the sun was rising, and she opened the door to her grandson and a young woman dressed for an early modern French wedding.

Hm okay?

He explained, and she believed him.

This was early modern Celtic folklore.

Weird stuff happened all the time, like a king could get in a fight and that's the reason for that mountain over there.

Don't worry about it.

They devised a plan where the princess would stay with the grandmother until they could figure out a way to get her home and when the princess changed into the grandmother's peasant clothes She almost looked the part of a young family member from a faraway land who came to live with the grandmother.

Since, to an Irish peasant boy, the French court might as well have been on the moon, the best he could do was write a letter a week to the French king and hope the merchants he was giving a solid percentage of his wages to weren't just chucking the letters into the ocean.

As the months passed, he stopped in to visit Isabelle and learned that she and the grandmother had developed a language that they used by making signs with their hands and adding tone and context with facial expressions, a sign language, if you will, and that's in the original.

Coulich learned it too, and he and the princess were able to communicate.

They became good friends, and after a few more months, he began to worry that his letters might actually make it to the French king.

But still, he kept writing.

It was the right thing to do.

There really was no worry of that, though.

Imagine trying to contact a world leader today, but you need to transcribe the message because you probably wouldn't have been able to read or write.

And then when you send the email, the service is like, that's great.

I gotta make like five more stops before maybe getting there though.

And when it does get there, the person in the French court probably can't read Irish.

Basically, in the first several months, none of them even made it to French soil, let alone to the hand of the king, which was fine with Goulish and actually Isabel.

She had autonomy in the Irish countryside that she never had as a princess.

She felt like a new person.

And as I'm writing this after being in a room and not watching, never watching Netflix Christmas movies, I realize that this is following the exact rom-com formula of a high-powered woman going to the country and discovering more to life and dare I say love.

This one is a little different though, because she was actually kidnapped.

A fairy tale spin.

But yeah, as the summer faded to fall, the affection between the pair began to grow.

Then, on a blustery November night, Ghoulish remembered last year.

He didn't know why he ran to the hill for it, but as the whirlwind picked up, he shoveled leaves to hide himself.

I just can't get over that guy.

Goulish, right?

That was his name?

Made the whole trip to France last year not worth it, one of the Fey men said as they entered our world.

You really have to let that go, another Fey man commented.

Also, the whole premise was gross.

We shouldn't have done that anyway.

You know what the funny thing is, the man said.

Goulish didn't even realize it, but the curse, it could be undone by the herb growing just outside some farmhouse I saw.

Boil it, boom, she can speak again.

Then the voice paused.

Hey, did they just hear something rustling in the leaves over there?

Oh well, probably nothing.

Let's go do some more messed up stuff.

But Gulesh was already running home where he discovered the herb they described growing from the side of the farmhouse.

He briefly thought it could be a trap, but knew it was worth the risk.

When he asked the princess, she agreed, and they both drank the tea together, and they both dropped to the floor.

It did knock them out, but when they came to the princess in her bed and Ghoulish in a chair, the grandma probably having thrown at her back, dragging both of them there, Ghoulish flew to her side and she said,

Hello.

They embraced.

The pair was married within the week.

The letters did show up with the king.

Traveling took a long time back then, but a few months after the pair was married, ships started showing up, or travelers with missives, salvaged from a shipwreck, stopped by the court to reveal that the princess, after she vanished like Frodo at the Prancing Pony, was in Ireland.

The king followed Gulish's directions until one day, he showed up at a humble farmhouse and his daughter answered the door.

Tears welled in both of their eyes and the princess introduced her father to his son-in-law, the man who had risked his own life to save her and who looked after her for a year while she was a stranger in a strange land.

It's just Ireland, it's not that strange.

Hi!

Gulish introduced himself.

And the king said that, now that they had been found, he would recognize their marriage, and they could come home.

She would be queen, and he king.

But Gulesh and the princess

looked at each other.

No,

no thanks.

There was more to life than riches and fancy parties.

Here was where they had built a life, and here was where they would remain.

Gulesh, who had wished for a life of adventure, had found all he needed in his life with her.

The king smiled, as she wished.

So the pair remained in Ireland.

The king of France dropped in frequently, and they were happy.

So, a long one this week.

Someone on Discord asked if, since we're every two weeks, there were going to be like double long episodes.

Not usually, but I thought the stories today were similar enough, like very similar, with a kidnapped French princess that they fit together well.

In the first, Ian kind of just goes along with the duplicitous fox and murders or cheats literally everyone, kind of getting pulled along until he ultimately benefits.

Goulish doesn't go along.

As soon as he has an opportunity to save the princess, he does so.

He tried to get her home and respects her wishes.

He makes the difference.

These two stories start in a similar way, but the difference is that the future isn't inevitable.

It's the result of our choices.

And doing nothing, going along with the monsters just to save your skin or even worse, benefit, well, that's a choice too.

As I've mentioned, Myths and Legends has moved over to every other week, but if you want to binge ad-free episodes or listen to over 100 bonus episodes, we have the membership at mythpodcast.com slash membership or on Apple Podcasts.

Say hi in Discord via a link in the show notes or connect with us on other social media.

And really, just thanks for listening.

We really appreciate it.

The creature this week is Le Cheval Bayard from France.

Now, For some reason, water horses are a thing in the cultures of Western Europe.

I say for some reason because I've never looked at a horse and thought whoa I'd love to ride that thing but if I do I'll get stuck to it and it'll pull me into the water forever.

Mainly because I've never looked at a horse and wanted to ride one but that's that's a me thing.

The Cheval Bayar is a bit more realistic at least where I'm concerned because while it will run off with you it will just throw you in the water and laugh and not turn sticky and drown you.

But that's just one way it messes with you because while it does enjoy dismantling your self-respect, it really enjoys destroying your marriage.

It can shapeshift and will frequently turn into a good-looking young man to tempt lonely wives in the French countryside while their husbands are out taking things to market or the tavern or just not home.

Given his reputation, you have to imagine it worked, but I can't imagine how.

The Cheval Bayard's tactic was, well, Different strokes for different folks, but he would walk into the woman's house and stare at her intensely.

intensely.

And

that was it.

Extremely low bar.

But one time he tried this with one woman who told her husband about this creepy dude when he returned home.

And the husband had a plan.

And it involved a superheated girdle.

So the next day, when the husband was supposed to be out, he was really in.

In his wife's clothing, that is.

He also had a girdle in the fire and, just as the fake creature was about to enter, set it on the stool the horseman horseman always sat on.

When the horseman arrived and started making very intense eyes at the husband, he sat and burned himself.

He leapt up, screaming, and demanded to know who had done this to him.

Who was this woman?

The husband, who had apparently read the Odyssey, cried out, myself, and the creature ran off vowing revenge.

But when he told his friends about it, they set down their metaphorical but also maybe literal pitchforks, when they asked him who burned him and he said, myself burned me.

Well, yeah, just maybe stop doing that.

So yeah, be glad you've read the Odyssey or at least heard this podcast.

It'll keep a gang of horse monsters from taking terrible vengeance on you for burning their friend.

That's it for this time.

Myths and Legends is by Jason and Carissa Weiser.

Our theme song is by Broke for Free, and the Creature of the Week music is by Steve Colmes.

There are links to even more of of the music we used in the show notes.

Thank you so much for listening and we'll see you next time.

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Today, we're exploring deep in the North American wilderness among nature's wildest plants, animals, and

cows.

Uh, you're actually on an Organic Valley dairy farm where nutritious, delicious, organic food gets its start.

But there's so much nature.

Exactly.

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Extraordinary.

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