The Conquests of Rí Ánrothán Mac Fechín Ó Niallán: Part I
The Battle of Corcaigh
It was Rí Ánrothán Mac Fechín Ó Niallán who initiated the battle in the wet marshes of Corcaigh. With his grand army counting more than five-thousand veteran men, hardened and tested by their prior victories in Cluain Meala and Dún Garbháin, Rí Ánrothán was more than confident of his ability to secure a quick victory against the disorganized and previously routed armies of Rí Abbán of Corcaigh. Despite his confidence, and the skill of his army, it was a well-known fact that the army of all the lands of Corcaigh numbered over eight-thousand men. Rí Ánrotháns men knew this fact, and they knew it well. Nevertheless, despite being in the heart of enemy territory, despite their impending battle against an army almost twice their size, despite the long months of recent warring, they never lost their fiery drive and passion for battle, and it would be this very same drive and passion that would carry them through to the conquest of Corcaigh.
The battle commenced before the break of dawn, as Rí Ánrothán had given consideration and approval to an ambush attack against the camping armies of Corcaigh, who would likely still be sleeping, or just waking up. The time for planning and discussion was over. The time for battle and conquest, of bloodlust and bloodshed, had now begun. With a fierce and sharp cry, the army of Rí Ánrothán rushed straight into battle, axes drawn and faces red with anger. There was not one face of fear among his men, and it is here that a most peculiar strategy of the armies of Rí Ánrothán arises.
The armies of Rí Ánrothán are taught from the start of their training to work themselves up into a very potent and very fearsome rage. It is this cuthach dearg (red rage) that gives the armies of Rí Ánrothán the strength they need to emerge victorious from any battle they choose.
When dawn broke at the swamps of Corcaigh, red was in every persons eyes. In the eyes of the army of Rí Ánrothán, the cuthach dearg was providing them with all its glory and potency, while in the eyes of the Corcaigh horde, the red came from the blood of their allies, who were being cut down as easily as grasses before a scythe.
No, such an encounter does not deserve to be called a battle. It was a rout.