Out of the grey mists of an Irish dawn. a woman of the wild whispered to the warrior Cucalain of great adventure...of a majestic queen with flaming red-gold hair...of dew-drenched meadows where war chariots prepared for battle...of obscene incantations chanted by an evil Druid who would turn the blackest magic who would turn the blackest magic against the champions of Ulster. Cuculain knew that only he could stop the bloody slaughter. Only he dared to stand alone against the armies of Eire...alone against the terrible beauty of an angry Irish queen.