Queen Maebh has much to prove in this man's world. Will she find a way to lead Ireland to it sovereignty or will she fall to the fate of so many other woman, married and fat with having to share her wealth with her husband.
Maebh face slid along the dirt, the sound of men's laughter hurting more than the skin coming off her face. She gritted her teeth and spun out her leg as she whirled around. Her foot connected with the knee with a satisfactory crunch. The man's face went from mocking laughter to agony as he dropped to the ground. The silence was deafening as Maebh lifted herself of the ground. Her face was turning a bruised purple with raw bloody streaks where she had slid along it. She stood over the fallen man.
"Yield?" She inquired as she watched him whimper beneath her. He sneered at her, so she placed her foot upon the twisted knee. His scream ripped the air. "Yield?" She offered again. This time he nodded desperately wanting release from her cruel foot. "You must speak aloud, for all to hear" Maebh said putting more pressure on his knee. The man turned ashen but choked out "I yield!" loud enough for the company of fighters to hear. Maebh stepped back releasing the pressure on his knee. She turned and collected her weapons, and without saying anything word she left the warriors fighting ring.
Eochaid Feidleach, her mother came to find Maebh at the well. She had heard about the fight at the warrior ring. Her daughter face was still beautiful despite the ugly bruises that marked it. Always so much to prove, her Maebh. She supposed it was what had come from raising her in Rathcroghen, the warriors den. The site of Rathcroghen stretched 8 miles wide and bristled with Ireland's finest army. At the age of 14, her Maebh had been taught by the finest warriors Connaught had to offer. Still though, she had to prove herself daily, pitting her skills against men twice her size. Stroking Maebh's fiery hair, she enticed her daughter to speak to her, "Tell me what happened, a chroi?'.
Maebh looked up at her mother. Her eyes filled with tears, 'He had grabbed me by the hair, and he forced his fingers between my legs. I could do nothing but spit into his face, mother. That is when his fist connected with my face. I wasn't supposed to fight in the warriors ring today. But I began to fight, I lost because I was enraged. I lost because I wanted to hurt him. The anger marred my judgement. Suddenly I found he had thrown me across the ring. It was the laughter mother, that hurt the most. But the laughter reminded me of all my training so I took him at the knees and showed no mercy until he submitted to me." Maebh's voice quivered as she told her mother the details. The softness of her mother's hand stroking her hair allowed her to feel the vulnerability that she felt. Tears dripped down her chin.
Eochaid Feidleach patiently wiped her daughter's tears. "You my girl are meant for the greatest of lives. They will write stories of your deeds and you are to shake this island when you come to rule. These things are your forging, these things are your strength. These things will remind you that you will not show weakness, especially in the face of a man. How I wish for you a softer life, but that is not your path. When you were still in my womb, the mighty druid Cathbad foretold blood painting the picture of your life. This is why you've been raised in Rathcroghen among the fiercest of warriors. It is too make you strong enough to live your life painted in blood. You will fight till the day you die Maebh, and maybe even after death will your fight continue. But know this, I wrap you in a mother's love, and with me you can show your colours of vulnerability." With that, she took her daughter to her bosom and held her as Maebh's sobbing shook them both.