As I read this story I couldn't help but think that it is definate, undeniable proof of the cunningness and skill of the Sidhe.  Without a doubt one is well advised to avoid games of skill with them unless you are willing to loose something cherished and dear.  And, it is a testiment to just how many wars have been started over a woman.  It's a beautiful story that I thoroughly enjoyed.  I hope you do, too.
The Wooing of Etain
thoughout Ireland that the feast of Tara was to be celebrated, and that all the men of Ireland should attend it, that their taxes and their levies might be known.  And the one answer made by all the men of Ireland to Eochaid’s summons was that they would not attend the feast of Tara during such time, whether it be long or short, as the king of Ireland was without a wife that was suitable for him, and there was not a king without a queen, and there would not come a man without his wife to the feast of Tara, nor would there come a woman without a husband.
Thereupon, Eochaid sent out from him his horsemen, and his entertainers, and his spies, and his messengers of the border throughout Ireland, and they searched all Ireland for a woman who should be suitable for the king in respect to form and grace and countenance and birth.  And, besides all this, there was one more condition regarding her: the king would never take a wife who had been given to any one else before him.  And the king’s officers sought all Ireland, both south and north, and they found at Inber Cichmany a woman suitable for him: that messengers returned to Eochaid and gave him a description of the maiden to regard to form and grace and countenance.
And Eochaid set forth to take the maiden, and the way that he went was across the fair green of Bri Leith.  And there he saw a maiden upon the brink of a spring.  She held in her hand a comb of silver decorated with gold.  Beside her, as for washing, was a basin of silver whereon was chased four golden birds, and there were little bright gems of carbuncle set in the rim of the basin.  A cloak of pure purple, hanging in folds about her, and beneath it a mantle with silver borders, and a brooch of gold in the garment over her bosom.  A tunic with a long hood about her, and as for it, smooth and glossy.  It was made of greenish silk behind red embroidery of gold, and marvelous bow-pins of silver and gold upon her breasts in the tunic, so that the redness of the gold against the sun in the green silk was clearly visible to the men.  Two tresses of golden hair upon her head, and a plaiting for four strands in each tress, and a ball of gold upon the end of each plait.
And, the maiden was there loosening her hair to wash it, and her two arms out through the armholes of her smock.  As white as the snow of one night was each of her two arms, and as red as the foxglove of the mountain was each of her two cheeks.  As blue as they hyacinth was each of her two eyes, delicately red her lips, very high, soft and white her two shoulders.  Tender, smooth, and white were her two wrists; her fingers long and very white, her nails pink and beautiful.  As white as snow or as the foam of the waves was her side, slender, long, and as soft as silk.  Soft, smooth, and white were her thighs, round and small, firm and white were her two knees; as straight as a rule were her two ankles; slim and foam-white where her two feet.  Fair and very beautiful were her own eyes, her eyebrows blackish blue like the shell of a beetle.  It was she the maiden who was the fairest and the most beautiful that the eyes of men had ever seen; and it seemed probable to the king and his companions that she was out of a fairy mound.  This is the maiden concerning whom is spoken the proverb: ‘Every lovely form must be tested by Etain, every beauty by the standard of Etain.’
A desire for her seized the king immediately, and he sent a man of his company to hold her before him.  Then Eochaid approached the maiden and questioned her.  ‘Whence art thou, o maiden?’ said the king, ‘and whence hast thou come?’
‘Not hard to answer,’ replied the maiden.  ‘Etain, the daughter of the king of Echrad out of the fairy-mounds I am called.’
‘Shall I have an hour of dalliance with thee?’ said Eochaid.
‘It is for that I have come hither under thy protection,’ said she.  ‘I have been here for twenty years since I was born in the fairy-mound, both kings and nobles, have been wooing me, and naught was got by any of them from me, because I have loved thee and given love and affection to thee since I was a little child and since I was capable of speaking.  It was for the noble tales about thee and for thy splendor that I have loved thee, and, although I have never seen thee before, I recognized thee at once by thy description.  It is thou, I know, to whom I have attained,’ said she.
‘That is by no means the invitation of a bad friend,’ replied Eochaid.  ‘Thou shalt be welcomed by me, and all other women shall be left for thy sake, and with thee alone will I live as long as it is pleasing to thee.’
‘Give me my fitting bride-price,’ said the maiden, ‘and thereafter let my desire be fulfilled.’
‘That shall be to thee,’ said the king.
The value of seven bond-slaves was given to her for a bride-price, and after that he took her with him to Tara, and a truly hearty welcome was given to her.
Now there were three brothers of one blood who were the sons of Finn.  Eochaid Airem and Eochaid Fedlech, and Ailill Anglonnach, or Ailill of the One Stain, because the only stain that was upon him was that he loved his brother’s wife.  At that time came the men of Ireland to hold the feast of Tara, and they were there fourteen days before Samain and fourteen days after Samain.  It was at the feast of Tara that Ailill Anglonnach fell in love with Etain the daughter of Etar.  Ailill gazed at the woman as long as he was at the feast of Tara.  Then Ailill’s wife, the daughter of Luchta Red-Hand from the borders of Leinster, said to her husband: ‘Ailill,’ said she, ‘why doest thou keep gazing far off from thee?  For such long-looking is a sign of love.’  Thereupon Ailill became ashamed and blamed himself for that thing, and he did not look at Etain after that.
After the feast of Tara the men of Ireland separated from one another, and then it was that the pains of jealousy and great envy filled Ailill, and a heavy illness came upon him.  As a result he was carried to Dun Fremain in Tethba, the favorite stronghold of his brother, the king.  Ailill remained there to the end of a year in long-sickness and in long-pining, but he did not confess the cause of his sickness to any one.  And thither came Eochaid to enquire after Ailill.  He put his hand upon Ailill’s breast, whereupon Ailill heaved a sigh.
‘Now,’ said Eochaid, ‘the sickness in which thou art does not appear to be serious.  How is everything with thee?’
‘By my word,’ replied Ailill, ‘not easier is it with me, but worse in all respects every day and every night.’
‘What ails thee?’ asked Eochaid.
‘By my true word,’ said Ailill, ‘I do not know.’
‘Let there be brought to me someone who shall make known the cause of this illness,’ said Eochaid.
Then was brought to them Fachtna, the physician of Eochaid.  And Fachtna put his hand upon Ailill’s breast, and Ailill sighed.
‘Now,’ said Fachtna, ‘the matter is not serious.  There is nothing the matter with thee but one of two things; that is, either the pains of jealousy or love which thou hast given, and thou hast found no help till now.’  Thereupon Ailill was ashamed.  He did not confess the cause of his illness to the physician, and the physician went from him.
Now, as regards Eochaid, he went out to make his royal circuit throughout Ireland, and he left Etain in the stronghold of Fremain, and he said to her: ‘Deal gently with Ailill as long as he is alive, and should he die,’ said he, ‘have his grave of sod dug, and leg his pillar-stone be raised, and let his name be written on it in ogham.’  The king then departed on his royal circuit of Ireland, leaving Ailill there in Dun Fremain in expectation of death and dissolution for the space of that year.
Into the house in which Ailill was, Etain used to go each day to consult with and minister him.  One day she asked him: ‘What is the matter with thee?  Thy sickness is indeed great, and if we knew anything that would satisfy thee, thou shouldst get it from us,’ It was thus that she spoke, and she sang a little lay and Ailill answered her…

Etain continued to come every day to Ailill to bathe him and to divide his food for him, and she helped him greatly, for she was sad at seeing him perish because of her.  One day she said to Ailill, ‘Come tomorrow at daybreak to tryst with me in the house that stands outside the stronghold, and there shalt thou have granted thy request and thy desire.’  On that night Ailill lay without sleep until the coming of the morning; and when the time had come that was appointed for his tryst, his sleep lay heavily upon him, so that till the hour of his rising he lay deep in his sleep.  And Etain went to the tryst, nor had she long to wait ere she saw a man coming towards her in the likeness of Ailill, weary and feeble, but she knew that he was not Ailill, and continued there waiting for Ailill.
And the lady came back from her tryst, and Ailill awoke, and thought that he would rather die than live; and he was in great sadness and grief.  And the lady came to speak with him, and when he told her what had befallen him: ‘Come,’ said she, ‘to the same place to meet with me tomorrow.’  And upon the morrow it was the same as upon the first day; each day came the same man to her tryst.  And she came again upon the last day that was appointed for the tryst, and the same man met her.
‘Tis not with thee that I trysted,’ said she, ‘why dost thou come to meet me?  And, for whom I would have met here, neither from desire of his love nor for fear of harm from him had I appointed to meet him, but only to heal him, and to cure him from the sickness which had come upon him for his love of me.’
‘It were more fitting for thee to come to tryst with me,’ said the man, ‘for when thou wast Etain, daughter of the king of Echrad, and when thou wast the daughter of Ailill, I myself was thy first husband.’
“Why,’ said she, ‘what is thy name at all, if it were to be demanded of thee?’
‘It is not hard to answer thee,’ he said.  ‘Mider of Bri Leith is my name.’
‘And what made thee to part from me, if we were as thou sayest?’ said Etain.
‘Easy again is the answer,’ said Mider.  “It was the sorcery of Ruamnach and the spells of Bressal Etarlam that put us apart.’  And Mider said to Etain: ‘Wilt thou come with me?’
‘Nay,’ answered Etain, ‘I will not exchange the king of all Ireland for thee; for a man whose kindred and whose lineage is unknown.’
‘It was I myself indeed,’ said Mider, ‘who filled all the mind of Ailill with love for thee; it was I also who prevented his coming to the tryst with the, and allowed him not to spoil thy honour.’
After all this the lady went back to her house, and she came to speech with Ailill, and she greeted him.  ‘It hath happened well for us both,’ said Ailill, ‘that the man met thee there, for I am cured for ever from my illness, thou art also unhurt in thin honour, and may a blessing rest upon thee!’
‘Thanks be to our gods,’ said Etain, ‘that both of us do indeed deem that all this hath chanced so well.’
And after that, Eochaid came back from his royal progress, and he asked at once for his brother; and the tale was told to him from the beginning to the end, and the king was grateful to Etain, in that she had been gracious to Ailill.  ‘What hath been related in this tale,’ said Eochaid, ‘is well pleasing to ourselves.’

Now upon another time it chanced that Eochaid Airem, the king of Tara, arose upon a certain fair day in the time of summer and he ascended the high ground of Tara to behold the plain of Breg; beautiful was the colour of that plain, and there was upon it excellent blossom, glowing with all hues that are known.  And, as the aforesaid Eochaid looked about and around him, he saw a young strange warrior upon the high ground at his side.  The tunic that the warrior wore was purple in colour, his hair was golden yellow, and of such length that it reached to the edge of his shoulders.  The eyes of the young warrior were lustrous and gray; in the one hand he held a five-pointed spear, in the other a shield with a white central boss, and with gems of gold upon it.  And Eochaid held his peace, for he knew that none such had been in Tara on the night before, and the gate that led into the enclosure had not at that hour been thrown open.
The warrior came, and placed himself under the protection of Eochaid.
‘Welcome do I give,’ said Eochaid, ‘to the hero who is yet unknown.’
‘Thy reception is such as I expected when I came,’ said the warrior.
‘We known thee not,’ answered Eochaid.
‘Yet thee in truth I know well!’ he replied.
‘What is the name by which thou art called?’ said Eochaid.
‘My name is not known to renown,’ said the warrior.  ‘I am Mider of Bri Leith.’
‘And for what purpose art thou come?’ said Eochaid.
‘I have come that I may play a game of chess with thee,’ answered Mider.
‘Truly,’ said Eochaid, ‘I myself am skilful at chess-play.’
‘Let us test that skill!’ said Mider.
‘Nay,’ said Eochaid, ‘the queen is even now in her sleep, and here is the apartment in which the chessboard lies.’
‘I have here with me,’ said Mider, ‘a chessboard which is not inferior to thine.’  It was even as he said, for that chessboard was silver, and the men to play with were gold; and upon that board were costly stones, casting their light on every side, and the bag that held the men was of woven chains of brass.
Mider then set out the chessboard, and he called upon Eochaid to play.  ‘I will not play,’ said Eochaid, ‘unless we play for a stake.’
‘What stake shall we have upon the game then?’ said Mider.
‘It is indifferent to me,’ said Eochaid.
‘Then,’ said Mider, ‘if thou dost obtain the forfeit of my stake, I will bestow on thee fifty steeds of a dark gray, their heads of a blood-red colour, but dappled; their ears pricked high, and their chests broad; their nostrils wide, and their hoofs slender; great is their strength, and they are keen like a whetted edge; eager are they, high-standing and spirited, yet easily stopped in their course.’
Several games were played between Eochaid and Mider, and since Mider did not put forth his whole strength, the victory on all occasions rested with Eochaid.  But instead of the gifts which Mider had offered, Eochaid demanded that Mider and his fold should perform for him services which should be of benefit to his realm: that he should clear away the rocks and stones from the plains of Meath, should remove the rushes which made the land barren around his favorite fort of Tethba, should cut down the forest of Breg, and finally should build a causeway across the moor or bog of Lamrach that men might pass freely across it.
All these things Mider agreed to do, and Eochaid sent his steward to see how that work was done.  And when it came to the time after sunset, the steward looked, and he saw that Mider and his fairy host, together with fairy oxen, were labouring at the causeway over the bog; and thereupon much of the earth and gravel and of stones was poured into it.  Now it had, before that time, always been custom of the men of Ireland to harness their oxen with a strap over their foreheads, so that the pull might be against the foreheads of the oxen; and this custom lasted up to that very nigh, when it was seen that the fairy folk had placed the yoke upon the shoulders of the oxen so that the pull might be there, and in this way were the yokes of the oxen afterwards placed by Eochaid Airem, or Eochaid the Ploughman, for he was the first of all the men of Ireland to put the yokes on the necks of the oxen, and thus it became the custom for all the land of Ireland.  And this is the song that the host of the fairies sang, as they labored at the making of the road.

Thrust it in hand!  Force it in hand!
Noble this night, the troop of oxen:
Hard is the task that is asked, and who
From the bridging of Lamrach shall receive gain or harm?

Not in all the world could a road have been found that should be better than the road that they made, had it not been that the fairy folk were observed as they worked upon it; but for that cause a breach has been made in that causeway.  And the steward of Eochaid thereafter came to him; and he described to him that great laboring band that had come before his eyes, and he said that there was not over the chariot-pole of life a power that could withstand its might.  And, as they spoke thus with each other, they saw Mider standing before them; high was he girt, and ill-favoured was the face that he showed; and Eochaid arose, and he gave welcome to him.
‘Thy welcome is such as I expected when I came,’ said Mider.  ‘Cruel and senseless hast thou been in thy treatment of me, and much hardship and suffering hast thou given me.  All things that seemed good in thy sight have I got for thee, but now anger against thee hath filled my mind!’
‘I return not anger for anger,’ answered Eochaid.  ‘What thou wishest shall be done.’
‘Let it be as thou wishest,’ said Mider.  ‘Shall we play at the chess?’ said he.
‘What stake shall we set upon the game?’ said Eochaid.
‘Even such stake as the winner of it shall demand,’ said Mider.  And in that very place Eochaid was defeated, and he forfeited his stake.
‘My stake is forfeited to thee,’ said Eochaid.
‘Had I wished it, it had been forfeited long ago,’ said Mider.
‘What is it that thou desirest me to grant?’ said Eochaid.
‘That I may hold Etain in my arms and obtain a kiss from her!’ answered Mider.
Eochaid was silent for a while, and then he said: ‘One month from this day thou shalt come, and that very thing that thou hast asked for shall be given to thee.’
Now for a year before that Mider first came to Eochaid for the chess-play, had he been at the wooing of Etain, and he obtained her not; and the name which he gave to Etain was Befind, or Fair-haired Woman, so it was that he said:

     Wilt thou come with me, fair-haired woman?

As has before been recited.  And it was at that time that Etain said: ‘If thou obtainest me from him who is the master of my house, I will go; but if thou art not able to obtain me from him, then I will not go.’  And thereupon Mider came to Eochaid, and allowed him at the first to win the victory over him, in order that Eochaid should stand in his debt; and therefore it was that he paid the great stakes to which he had agreed, and therefore also was it that he had demanded of him that he should play that game in ignorance of what was staked.  And when Mider and his folk were paying those agreed-on stakes, which were paid upon that night; to wit, the making of the road, and the clearing of the stones from Meath, the rushes from around Tethba, and the forest that is over Breg, it is thus that he spoke, as it is written in the Book of Drum Snechta:

Pile on the soil; thrust on the soil;
Red are the oxen who labor;
Heavy the troops that obey my words.
Heavy they seem, and yet men are they.
Strongly, as piles, are the tree-trunks placed:
Red are the wattles bound above them:
Tired are your hands, and your glances slant;
One woman’s winning this toil may yield!
Oxen ye are, but revenge shall see;
Men who are white shall be your servants;
Rushes from Tethba are cleared:
Grief is the price that the man shall pay:
Stones have been cleared from the rough Meath ground;
Whose shall the gain or the harm be?

Now Mider appointed a day at the end of the month when he was to meet Eochaid, and Eochaid called the armies of the heroes of Ireland together, so that they came to Tara; and all the best of the champions of Ireland, ring within ring, were about Tara, and they were in the midst of Tara itself, and they guarded it, both without and within; and the king and the queen were in the midst of the palace, and the outer court thereof come upon them.  And upon the appointed night Etain was dispensing the banquet to the kings, for it was her duty to pour out the wine, when in the midst of their talk they saw Mider standing before them in the center of the palace.  He was always fair, yet fairer than he ever was seemed Mider to be upon that night.  And he brought to amazement all the hosts on which he gazed, and all thereupon were silent, and the kings gave a welcome to him.
‘Thy reception is such as I expected when I came,’ said Mider.  ‘Let that now be given to me that has been promised.  ‘Tis a debt that is due when a promise hath been made, and I for my part have given to thee all that was promised by me.’
‘I have not yet considered the matter,’ said Eochaid.
‘Thou hast promised Etain’s very self to me,’ said Mider.  ‘That is what has come from thee.’
Etain blushed for shame when she heard that word.
‘Blush not,’ said Mider to Etain, ‘for in no wise has thy wedding-feast been disgraced.  I have been seeking thee for a year with the fairest jewels and treasures that can be found in Ireland, and I have not taken thee until the time came when Eochaid might permit it.  ‘Tis not through any will of thine that I have won thee.’
‘I myself told thee,’ said Etain, ‘that until Eochaid should resign me to thee I would grant thee nothing.  Take me then for my part, if Eochaid is willing to resign me to thee.’
‘But I will not resign thee!’ said Eochaid.  ‘Nevertheless, he shall take thee in his arms upon the floor of this house as thou art.’
‘It shall be done!’ said Mider.
He took his weapons in his left hand and the woman beneath his right shoulder; and he carried her off through the smoke-hole of the house.  And the hosts rose up around the king, for they felt that they had been disgraced, and they saw two swans circling around Tara, and the way that they took was the way to the elf-mound of Femen.  And Eochaid with an army of men of Ireland, and he dug up each of the elf-mounds that he might take his wife from thence.  And, Mider and his host opposed them and the war between them was long; again and again the trenches made by Eochaid were destroyed; for nine years, as some say, lasted the strife of the men of Ireland to enter into the fairy place.  And, when at last the armies of Eochaid came by digging to the borders of the fairy-mound of Bri Leith, Mider sent to the side of the palace sixty women all in the shape of Etain, and so like to her that none could tell which was the queen, and Eochaid himself was deceived, and he chose instead of Etain her daughter Mes Buachalla (or, as some say, Esa).  But when he found that he had been deceived, he returned again to sack Bri Leith, and this time Etain made herself known to Eochaid by proofs that he could not mistake, and he bore her away in triumph to Tara, and there she abode with the king.
here was an admirable, noble king in the high-kingship over Ireland; Eochaid Airem.  The first year after he ascended the throne, a proclamation was made
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