In ancient times in Ireland, among the famous Fitzgeralds there was one great man. His name was simply Gerald. However, the Irish, who treated this family with special respect, called him Herod Jarl, that is, Earl Gerald. He had a large castle near Mallimast itself, or rather, a reliable fortress built inside a hill surrounded by an earthen rampart. And whenever the rulers of England attacked his native Ireland, it was he, the Jarl's Hero, who always came to its defense.
He not only mastered weapons perfectly and always came first in battles, but he was also strong in black magic and could take on anyone’s appearance. His wife knew about this art of his and many times asked her husband to reveal to her at least one of his secrets, but in vain. In particular, she wanted him to appear before her in some outlandish image, but he kept putting it off under one pretext or another.
But she would not be a woman if she had not finally insisted on her own. Only Heroid warned her that if she was at all frightened while he changed his usual appearance, he would not find it again until many, many generations had passed.
What! Is she really worthy of being the wife of Herod Jarl if she is so easily frightened! Let him only fulfill her whim, then he will see what a hero she is!
And then one fine summer evening - they were just sitting in the living room at that time - Heroid turned away from his wife for a moment, muttered a few words, and before she had time to blink an eye, he suddenly disappeared, and a handsome goldfinch circled around the room.
The lady really turned out to be brave, as she said, but she was still a little scared, although she perfectly controlled herself and remained calm, even when the goldfinch flew up to her, sat on her shoulder, shook his wings, touched her lips with his small beak and burst into an enchanting song. The goldfinch circled around the living room, played hide and seek with the lady, flew out into the garden, came back, sat on her lap and pretended to be asleep, then fluttered up again.
And when both were already tired of these amusements, the goldfinch flew out into the open air for the last time, but immediately returned and rushed to his mistress right on the chest - an evil hawk flew after him.
Herod Jarl's wife screamed loudly, although there was no need for it: the hawk flew into the room with such speed that it hit the table very hard and immediately gave up the ghost. The lady took her eyes away from the fluttering hawk and looked to where the goldfinch had just been, but never again in her life did she see either the goldfinch or Herod Jarl himself.
Once every seven years, at night, the earl rides on his horse around the Carr lowlands in County Kildare. On the day he disappeared, the silver shoes of his steed were half an inch thick. When these horseshoes become thin, like a cat's ear, Jarl's Hero will return to life again, win a great battle with the English and will be the High King of Ireland for twenty years - so the legend says.
In the meantime, Jarl's Hero and his warriors are sleeping in a deep cave under the Mallimast rock. In the middle of the cave, along its entire length, there was a table. The count himself sits at the head of the table, and on both sides of him, one after another, in full armor, are all his warriors. Their heads rest on the table. Their war horses are bridled and saddled and stand behind their masters, each in his own stall.
But the day will come when the miller's son, who will be born with six fingers on each hand, will blow the horn, and the horses will beat their hooves and neigh, and the knights will wake up and jump into their saddles to ride to war.
On those nights when Jarl's Hero rides around the lowlands of Carr, a random traveler can see the entrance to this cave. About a hundred years ago, one merchant turned out to be such a belated traveler, and besides, he was tipsy. He noticed a light in the cave and entered. The lighting, complete silence and armed warriors shocked him so much that he immediately sobered up. His hands trembled and he dropped his bridle onto the stone floor. A slight noise echoed throughout the long cave, and one of the warriors - the one who was sitting closest to the dealer - raised his head and asked in a hoarse voice:
- Is it time already?
But the dealer thought of answering:
— Not yet, but soon.
And the heavy helmet fell on the table again.
The dealer tried to get out of the cave as quickly as possible, and since then no one has heard of anyone else having been in it.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru