Cuchullain

A great and famous king, Conchobor son of Fachtna Fathach, once ruled in Emain Macha, and his reign was one of peace and prosperity and abundance and order. His house, the Red Branch, built in the likeness of the Tech Midchuarta in Tara, was very impressive, with nine compartments from the fire to the wall, separated by thirty-foot-high bronze partitions. It had a wooden floor and a tiled roof, and inside there were carvings of red yew. Conchobor's own compartment was in the front of the house, and had a silver ceiling, supported by bronze pillars with golden headpieces inlaid with carbuncles. The light from these glittering fittings meant that inside the house, night was as bright as day.

Hanging from the roof was a silver gong. Whenever Conchobor hit the gong with his royal rod, all the men of Ulster fell silent.

There were stalls for twelve chariot-chiefs around the king's compartment. All the bravest warriors were welcome inside at times of feasting, and none would crowd the other. Lavish gatherings were held there of all the splendid warriors of Ulster: games were played, songs were sung, and feats performed.

Once, the men of Ulster were there in Emain Macha, drinking from Conchobor's great vat, the Iern-Gual, 'Iron Chasm' or 'Iron Coal'. It could satisfy all the Ulstermen at one sitting, and it would be filled a hundred times every evening. The chariot-chiefs - including: Conall Cernach, son of Amergin; Fergus mac Róich, bravest of the brave; Lóegaire Búadach, son of Connad; Celtchar, son of Uthechar; Dubthach, son of Lugaid; Cuchullain, son of Súaltam; and Scel, son of Barnene, who was the warder of Emain Macha and a great storyteller - 'a story of Scel's' is proverbial - performed their feats on ropes stretched from door to door. They performed the spear feat, the apple feat and the feat of the sword-edge, and Cuchullain outdid them all at feats of skill and speed.

The women of Ulster loved Cuchullain for these skills, as well as his looks and the sweetness of his speech. In his kingly eyes were seven bright jewels - four in one eye, three in the other. He had seven fingers on each hand, and seven toes on each foot. He had the gift of prudence (until his warrior's flame came upon him), the gift of feats, the gifts of buanfach and fidchell, the gifts of calculating, prophesy, discernment, and beauty. He had only three faults - that he was too young (his beard had not yet grown, and the other youths gave him a bit of stick about that), too daring, and too beautiful.

The men of Ulster got together to discuss Cuchullain, for all their wives and daughters loved him. He didn't have a wife of his own, so they decided to find a maiden whom he would be happy to woo. They figured that a married man would be less likely to ruin their daughters or steal the love of their wives. Besides, they were worried he might die young and leave no son to inherit his unique talents.

Conchobor sent nine men into each province of Ireland, into every city and every stronghold, to find the daughter of a king, a chief or a hospitaller who might please Cuchullain, but a year later, they returned empty handed. So Cuchullain went to woo a maiden he knew in Luglochta Logo, called Emer, daughter of Forgall Monach - the Wily.

He set off in his chariot, driven by Láeg mac Riangabra. It was so fast that none of the horses or chariots of Ulster could catch it. He found on her playing-field, with her foster-sisters, daughters of the landowners who lived around Forgall's stronghold. They were all learning needlework and fine crafts from Emer. Of all the women of Ireland, Cuchullain had chosen to woo Emer because she had the six gifts: beauty, voice, sweet speech, needlework, wisdom and chastity. He said that would only be interested in a maiden who was his equal in age and form and breeding, and with skill and dexterity, and as Emer possessed all those qualities, and was the best handiworker in Ireland, she was the girl for him.

Cuchullain had put on his finest clothes, and went to her to show off his beauty. The maidens, sitting on a bench at the gate of the stronghold, heard the clatter of the horses' hooves, the creaking of the chariot, the cracking of the straps, the grating of the wheels, the rush of the hero, and the clanking of weapons, coming towards them.

'Someone look out,' said Emer, 'and tell us who's coming.'

Fial, Emer's sister, said, 'I see two horses, spirited and strong, equal in size and beauty, fierceness and speed, running side by side, their long manes and tails flowing behind them. On the right side of the chariot-shaft, a grey horse, muscular, fierce, swift and wild; on the left, a black horse, spirited and fiery, whose long, curly mane hangs down over his forehead. The beating of their hard hooves turns the solid ground to flame.

'Behind them, a chariot of fine wood and wickerwork travelling on white-bronze wheels. The shaft is of bright silver, mounted on white-bronze, and the yoke is of gold.

'It's driven by a tall, slender freckled man. His hair is bright red and curly, and it's held out of his eyes with a bronze circlet, and tied back with a golden clasp. He wears a tunic with sleeves to his elbows, and he drives the horses with a red-gold goad.

'In the chariot is a dark, sad man, the most beautiful in Ireland. He wears a crimson, five-folded cloak, fastened on his white chest with a brooch of inlaid gold, and a white, hooded shirt. Seven red dragon-gems in each of his eyes; blue-white sparks flashing from his blood-red cheeks; a shower of pearls in his mouth; eyebrows as black as charcoal. His eyes burn with a look of love.

'A golden-hilted sword rests on his thighs, and a blood-red spear with a formidable blade is fastened to the copper frame of the chariot. On his shoulder, a crimson shield with a rim of silver, ornamented with golden animal designs.

'He leaps the hero's salmon leap, and performs many other amazing feats. This is no ordinary chariot-chief.'

Cuchullain arrived at where the maidens were sitting, and wished a blessing on them. Emer lifted her beautiful face to him, and said, 'May God make smooth the path before you.'

'May you be safe from all harm,' he replied.

'Where have you come from?' said Emer.

'Not hard to tell,' said Cuchullain. 'From the cover of the sea, over the great secret of the Túatha Dé Danann, and the foam of the two steeds of Emain Macha; over the Morrigan's garden, and the great sow's back; over the glen of the great dam, between the god and his prophet; over the marrow of the seeress, between the boar and his dam; over the washing-place of the horses of Dea; between the king of Ana and his servant, to Monnchuile of the four corners of the world; over the great crime and the remnants of the great feast; between the great vat and the little vat, until I came here, to Lug's Gardens, to the daughters of Forgall, nephew of Tethra the king of the Fomóire. But enough about me. Tell me about yourself.'

'Not hard to tell, indeed,' Emer replied. 'Tara among women, fairest of maidens, a paragon of chastity, a prohibition that is not heeded, a watcher who sees no-one. A modest women is a dragon, to whom no-one dares come near. A king's daughter is a hearth of hospitality, a road that cannot be entered. I have champions who watch me and guard me, in case anyone comes to carry me off against their will and my father's.'

'Who are these champions who guard you?' said Cuchullain.

'They are: two Luis, two Luaths - Luath and Lath Goible, son of Tethra; Triath and Trescath, Brian and Bolor, and Bas son of Omnach; eight Connlas; and Conn son of Forgall. Every one of them has the strength of a hundred and the feats of nine.

'And it would be hard to tell you of all the powers of Forgall himself. He is stronger than any labourer, wiser than any druid, and more perceptive than any poet. It'll take more than your fancy feats to fight him, for he is the very epitome of manly deeds.'

'You don't count me among those strong men?' said Cuchullain.

'Have you performed famous deeds?'

'I swear to you,' said Cuchullain, 'my deeds will be recounted among the deeds of the most glorious heroes.'

'How strong are you?'

'I'll tell you,' he said. 'At my weakest, I'm a match for twenty. A third of my strength is enough for thirty. On my own, I can fight off forty. Under my protection, a hundred are safe. Warriors avoid the battlefield for fear of me, and whole armies flee before me.'

'Not bad for a boy,' said Emer, 'But you aren't a fully-fledged chariot-chief yet.'

'I have been well brought up by my foster-father Conchobor, among chariot-chiefs and champions, jesters and druids, poets and learned men, nobles and landlords, and I have learned all their manners and gifts.'

'And who were they, these illustrious foster-fathers of yours?' said Emer.

'Sencha of the Fair Speech taught me to be wise and quick-witted. Blai the Hospitaller brought me up because of his blood ties, and he taught me hospitality. Fergus mac Róich fostered me, and taught me fighting skills and bravery. I learned excellence in speech at the knee of Amergin the poet. His wife Finnchoem reared me, so Conall Cernach is my foster-brother. And my mother's father Cathbad taught me knowledge of the gods. All the men of Ulster have had a hand in my upbringing.

'I was called into being by Lug, son of Conn mac Ethlenn, when my mother Deichtine visited the house of the Mighty One of the Brug na Bóinde. And what about you? How have you been raised here in Lug's Gardens?'

'Not hard to tell, indeed,' Emer replied. 'I was brought up in ancient virtues, in lawful behaviour, chastity, the dignity of a queen. I possess every virtue a woman can possess.'

'And fine virtues they are indeed,' said Cuchullain. 'Isn't it right that we should be together? I've never met a girl before that I can talk to like this.'

'One more question,' said Emer. 'Have you a wife already?'

'No, I don't,' he replied.

'I may not marry before my older sister, Fial, who you see beside me,' said Emer. 'She is excellent in handiwork.'

'But it's not her I've fallen in love with. Besides, I have never accepted a woman who has known a man before, and I have been told she used to belong to Coirpre Niafer.'

While they were talking, Cuchullain saw Emer's breasts over the top of her dress. 'I see a fair plain,' he said. 'I could rest my weapon there.'

'No-one comes to this plain unless he has killed a hundred at every ford from the Ford of Scenn Menn at Ollbuine to Banchuing Arcait, where swift Brea breaks the brow of Fedelm.'

'I see a fair plain,' repeated Cuchullain. 'I could rest my weapon there.'

'No-one comes to this plain unless he has achieved the feat of leaping over three walls; killing three groups of nine men with one blow, yet leaving my three brothers, one of whom is in each group, unharmed; and then, accompanied by them and my foster-sister, bringing my weight in gold out of Forgall's stronghold.'

'I see a fair plain. I could rest my weapon there.'

'No-one comes to this plain unless he has gone without sleep from Samain to Imbolc, from Imbolc to Beltine, and from Beltine to Bron Trogain.'

'Everything you have commanded, I will do,' said Cuchullain.

'Your offer is accepted,' said Emer. 'But one more question: who are you?'

'I am the nephew of the man who disappears in another in the wood of Badb,' he replied. 'I am the hero of the plague that befalls dogs.'

After that, Cuchullain left, and they said nothing more to each other that day. As they were leaving, Láeg asked Cuchullain what they had been talking about, and he explained that he had been wooing Emer. They had had to disguise their words, because if Forgall knew, he wouldn't give his consent. He then related and explained everything that had been said, and this passed the time until they returned to Emain Macha, where they spent the night.

Emer's foster-sisters all told their parents about the young man who had come in his splendid chariot, and the conversation he had with Emer, which they hadn't understood. Their parents all told Forgall that Emer had been talking to Cuchullain.

'It's true,' said Forgall, 'the madman from Emain Macha has been here talking to Emer, and she has fallen in love with him. But it'll do them no good - I'll put a stop to it.'

So Forgall the Wily went to Emain Macha, disguised as an envoy from the king of the Gauls, to talk to Conchobor. He brought him golden treasures, and Gaulish wine, and all sorts of good things. He was given a great welcome. On the third day he sent away his men, and Cuchullain, Conall and the other chariot-chiefs were praised before him. He agreed that the chariot-chiefs performed marvellously, but that if Cuchullain were to go to Domnall the Soldierly in Alba, his skill would be even greater; and that if he went to Scáthach to learn the feats of arms, he would be greater than all the warriors of Europe.

Forgall suggested this in the hope that Cuchullain would never return. If he became Scáthach's friend, he hoped that would lead to his death through her wildness and fierceness. Cuchullain agreed to go, and Forgall bound himself to give Cuchullain whatever assistance he desired, if he left within a certain time. Forgall went home, and the warriors got up in the morning and prepared to do as they had vowed.

Cuchullain, Lóegaire Búadach and Conchobor set out that morning. Some say Conall Cernach went with them as well. But first Cuchullain went agross Mag Breg to visit Emer. He talked to her before getting on board ship, and she told him it had been her father who had suggested the trip in order to stop the two of them meeting. She told him to be on his guard wherever he went, in case Forgall tried to destroy him. They both promised to be faithful to each other until they met again, unless one of them should die in the meantime. They bade each other farewell, and Cuchullain left for Alba.

When they came to Domnall in Alba, he taught them to heat up a flagstone with bellows, and perform on it until their soles were black and livid. He taught them to climb a spear and perform on its point. Domnall's daughter Dornolla fell in love with Cuchullain. She was incredibly ugly, with enormous knees, back-to-front feet, dark grey eyes and a jet-black face. She had a large forehead, and rough, straggly, bright red hair wound round her head. Cuchullain refused her, and she swore revenge.

Domnall said that Cuchullain could not gain complete knowledge of the arts of war until he went to Scáthach, who lived in the east of Alba. So the four Ulstermen set off across Alba, but Dornolla raised a vision of Emain Macha before them, which neither Conchobor nor Conall nor Lóegaire could go past. Dornolla's plan had been to separate Cuchullain from his companions, and it worked. Other versions say that it was Forgall the Wily who raised the vision in the hope that Cuchullain would turn back, and thus be shamed by his failure to fulfil his vow; or, that if he were to proceed to Scáthach alone, he would be more likely to be killed. But Cuchullain's will was strong, and he persevered without his companions.

But when Cuchullain realised his comrades were no longer with him, he stopped from sorrow and fatigue. He didn't know where to find Scáthach, but he had sworn to his comrades that he wouldn't return to Emain Macha until he had found her. He was lost. After a while he saw a terrible beast, like a lion, coming towards him. It kept its eye on him, but didn't attempt to harm him. Whichever way he tried to go, the beast blocked his way, so he took a leap onto its back. He didn't guide it, but let it go where it wanted, and they travelled for four days.

At the end of that time, they came to the limits of the inhabited world, and saw an island where some lads were rowing in a small boat. The lads laughed to see such a fearsome beast doing service to a man. Cuchullain leapt off its back. The beast left him then, and he bade it farewell.

He carried on, and came to a house deep in a glen. Inside was a beautiful maiden. 'Welcome, Cuchullain,' she said.

He asked her how she knew him, and she told him that they had both been foster-children of Wulfkin the Saxon, and had learned sweet speech from him. She gave him food and drink, and he left her and continued his journey.

Then he met a brave youth called Eochaid Bairche, who gave him the same welcome. They talked together, and Cuchullain asked him how to get to Scáthach's stronghold. The young man showed him how to cross the Plain of Ill-Luck that was ahead of him. On the nearer half of the plain, a traveller's feet would freeze to the ground; on the farther half the grass would rise and hold them fast on its blades. The youth gave Cuchullain a wheel, and told him to follow its track across one half of the plain; he also gave him an apple, and told him that its track would lead him across the other half. He warned him that beyond the plain was a glen with a single, narrow path through it. The glen was full of monsters sent by Forgall to destroy him. Beyond that, a terrible mountain stronghold lay between him and Scáthach's house.

Then Cuchullain bade farewell to the youth, and they wished blessings on each other. The youth told him how to win honour at Scáthach's house, and prophesied about his future exploits. Cuchullain took his leave of him and went on. He followed the youth's instructions, and crossed the plain and the perilous glen safely. He arrived at a camp where Scáthach's pupils were, and asked them where she was. 'On that island over there,' he was told.

'How do I get there?' he asked. 'Over the Cliff Bridge, which no-one can cross unless he has trained in arms.' The bridge was low at either end and high in the middle, and whenever anyone stood on one end, it would tip up and throw him off. Some versions say that a crowd of Irish warriors were there, studying under Scáthach, and that they were: Fer Diad son of Daman, Noisiu son of Uisliu, Lóch Mór son of Mofemis, and Fiamain son of Fora; and many others besides. But this version doesn't mention them at this point.

Cuchullain tried to cross the bridge three times, and failed each time. The other pupils jeered at him. His ríastrad came upon him, and he made the hero's salmon leap and landed right in the middle of the bridge. He was then able to reach the other side before the bridge tipped up and threw him off. He went up to the door of the stronghold, and knocked it with the butt of his spear, so hard that it went through it. Scáthach was told. 'This must be someone who has had full training elsewhere,' she said. She sent her daughter Úathach to find out who he was.

When she saw him, she was so moved by desire she was speechless. She went to her mother and sang his praises, and she resolved to sleep with him that night. Scáthach approved of this course of action, so she pretended to be a servant, and served him food and water. But he hurt her, breaking her finger. Hearing her shriek, the army of the stronghold ran to help. Their champion, Cochor Crufe, stood forward to fight Cuchullain, but Cuchullain defeated and killed him. Scáthach was sorrowful at the death of her champion, and told Cuchullain to take his place.

On the third day Úathach advised Cuchullain that, if he had come to achieve a hero's valour, he should make the hero's salmon leap to reach Scáthach, who sat in the great yew tree when teaching her sons, Cuar and Cett. He should set his sword between her breasts and demand three wishes: that she teach him without neglect; that he might marry Úathach without the payment of a bride-price; and that she should foretell his future, for she was a prophet.

Cuchullain did as she said. He went to where Scáthach was, placed his feet on the two edges of the weapons chest, and put the point of his sword to her heart. 'Death hangs over you!' he said.

'Name your demands,' said Scáthach. 'If you can utter three demands in one breath, I will grant them.' Cuchullain made his demands as Úathach had told him. Úathach was given to him, and he was taught skill in arms.

During the time Cuchullain was with Scáthach, and was the husband of Úathach, there was a famous man of Munster called Lugaid mac Nois, a foster-brother of Cuchullain, who was the grandson of the renowned king of Munster, Alamiach. He went east with twelve chariot-chiefs of the kings of Munster, to woo the twelve daughters of Coirpre Niafer. But it turned out all the girls were already betrothed. When Forgall the Wily heard about this, he went to Tara and told Lugaid that the best maiden in Ireland, both in beauty and handiwork, was in his house and unmarried. Lugaid was most pleased, and Forgall betrothed Emer to him. He also betrothed twelve of his foster-daughters to the twelve chariot-chiefs.

Lugaid came to Forgall's stronghold for the wedding. But when Emer was brought to him, she took his cheeks in her hands, and laid it on the truth of his honour and his life that she loved Cuchullain, that her father was against it, and that anyone else who took her as his wife would suffer loss of honour. For fear of Cuchullain, Lugaid didn't dare marry Emer, and returned home.

At that time Scáthach was at war with other tribes, who were ruled by the princess Aífe. Their two armies assembled to fight, but Scáthach had left Cuchullain behind, tied up and under the influence of a sleeping potion. She didn't want him to go into battle, in case anything happened to him. But the sleeping potion, which would knock anyone else out for twenty four hours, only kept Cuchullain out for an hour. He went forth with Scáthach's two sons against three of Aífe's warriors, Cuar, Cett and Cruife, the sons of Ilsuanach, and defeated them single-handed.

The next morning battle was joined again, and the two armies marched forward until they met face to face. The three sons of Eis Enchenn, Cire, Bire and Blaicne, who fought for Aífe, stood forward and began to fight against the two sons of Scáthach. They went on the path of feats. Scáthach sighed. She was worried what might happen to her sons, because they were outnumbered three to two, and also because she was afraid of Aífe, who was the toughest warrior-woman in the world. But Cuchullain stepped in to even the odds, and the sons of Eis Enchenn all fell by his hand.

Aífe then challenged Scáthach to single combat, and Cuchullain went forth as Scáthach's champion. But before he went, he asked what it was Aífe loved most. 'Her horses, her chariot and her charioteer,' replied Scáthach.

So Cuchullain and Aífe met on the path of feats, and began combat. Aífe broke Cuchullain's sword off at the hilt. But Cuchullain cried, 'Oh No! Aífe's chariot, her charioteer and her horses have fallen down the glen and all been killed!'

When Aífe looked round Cuchullain leapt towards her, seized her under her breasts, picked her up and carried her over his shoulder back to his own side. He then threw her to the ground and held his sword's point over her head.

'A life for a life, Cuchullain!' she said.

'Give me my three demands,' said Cuchullain, and she agreed. 'First, give hostages to Scáthach, and never oppose her again,' continued Cuchullain. 'Second, spend the night with me in front of your stronghold. Third, bear me a son.' Aífe promised, and it was done.

Soon, Aífe announced she was pregnant, and that it was a boy. 'On this day, seven years from now, I will send him to Ireland,' she said. 'Leave a name for him.' So Cuchullain left a gold thumb-ring for him, and told Aífe the boy was to come to Ireland to look for him as soon as the ring fitted. He said he was to be called Connla, and charged her that he should not identify himself to any one man, that he shouldn't turn aside for any man, and that he should refuse combat to no-one. Then Cuchullain returned to his own side.

As he went along the road, he met an old woman, blind in one eye. She told him to beware, and not get in her way on the road ahead. There was only room on that narrow cliff path for one, and only a sheer drop to the sea to the side. So he let her have the path, clinging to the cliff face with his toes, and let her past. But as she passed, she hit at his big toe, trying to dislodge him. Cuchullain was expecting this. He leapt his hero's salmon leap back up onto the path, and cut her head off. She was Eis Enchenn, the mother of the last three men he had killed, and she had come to avenge them.

Scáthach's army soon went back to their own land, with the hostages that Aífe had given. Cuchullain stayed with Scáthach until he had recovered from his wounds.

At last, Cuchullain had mastered all the arts of war that Scáthach had taught him. These are the feats he learned: the apple-feat, the thunder-feat, the blade-feat, the supine-feat, the spear-feat, the rope-feat, the body-feat, the cat's-feat, the salmon-feat of a chariot-chief, the throw of the staff, the whirl of a brave chariot-chief, the gae bolga, the wheel-feat, the breath-feat, the hero's holler, the blow, the counter-blow, running up a spear and standing straight on its point, the scythed chariot, and the hero's twisting round spear points. Then there came a message to return to his own land, and he took his leave.

Scáthach then told him what would happen to him in the future, chanting through the imbas forasnai.

'Great peril awaits you, warrior of singular valour. Alone against a great herd, enemies all around you - your slashing blade cuts through their necks. Cattle and hostages carried off from Brega. Sétanta will be bloody in the stream. For a fortnight, a torrent of blood will shower your flesh, dripping from numberless splintered shields, as the cattle stride through passes. Facing a hedge of spears, you will suffer a wound of vengeance. A warrior performing feats faces a bare-handed warrior. Even as you overwhelm Ailill and Medb, A sickbed awaits you. Women-troops mourn the deed. I see Whitehorn fight against the loud-bellowing Brown Bull of Cooley.'

Then Cuchullain boarded the ship for Ireland. The other travellers on board were these: Lugaid and Luan, the two sons of Loch; Fer Báeth; Larin; Fer Diad; and Durst son of Serb.

They came to the house of Ruad, king of the Western Isles, on Samain night. Conall Cernach and Lóegaire Búadach were there, levying tribute, for in those days the Western Isles paid tribute to Ulster. Cuchullain heard sounds of wailing and lamentation in the king's stronghold. 'What is that lamentation for?' he asked.

'It is because Derbforgaill, daughter of Ruad, is being given to the Fomóire as tribute,' he was told.

'Where is she?' he said. 'Down on the shore below.' So Cuchullain went down to the beach, and came close to the maiden. He asked her the meaning of her plight, and she told him everything. 'Where do these men come from?' he asked. 'From that distant island,' she replied. 'Don't stay here where those villains can see you.' But he stayed, and killed three of the Fomóiri in single combat. The last of them wounded him in the wrist, and the maiden gave him a strip of her dress to bind the wound. Then he left without telling her who he was.

The maiden returned to the stronghold, and told her father the whole story. Afterwards, Cuchullain came to the stronghold, like any other guest, and Conall and Lóegaire made him welcome. Many guests boasted that they had killed the Fomóire, but Derbforgaill didn't believe them.

The king had a bath prepared for all his guests, and Derbforgaill was to bathe them. They were all brought to her separately. When Cuchullain came for his bath, she immediately recognised him.

'I will give her to you,' said the king, 'and pay a generous dowry.' Cuchullain declined the offer. 'But if she likes, she can follow me a year from now to Ireland.'

After that, Cuchullain returned to Emain Macha and related his adventures. When he had rested, he set out for Forgall's stronghold to see Emer. But Forgall had placed so many guards around it that, a year later, he was still trying to get in.

At the end of the year he turned to Láeg, his charioteer, and said, 'Today's the day I'm supposed to have my tryst with Ruad's daughter. But we weren't wise - we didn't arrange where we were to meet. Let's go to the coast.'

When they came to the shore of Loch Cuan they saw two birds over the sea. Cuchullain put a stone in his sling and aimed at the birds. He hit one of them, and ran towards where it fell. But when he arrived, he saw two of the most beautiful women in the world - Derbforgaill, daughter of Ruad, and her handmaid. 'You have done an evil thing, Cuchullain,' said the wounded Derbforgaill. 'We came to see you, and you have hurt us.'

Cuchullain sucked the stone from the wound, and a clot of blood came with it. 'I can't marry you now,' he said, 'for I have tasted your blood. But I will give you to my companion, Lugaid of the Red Stripes.' And so it was done.

Cuchullain once again determined to go to Forgall's stronghold, and the scythed chariot (carpat serrda) was prepared for him. It was so called, either because it was covered in iron scythes, or else because it was invented by the Serians. When he arrived at the stronghold, he did the hero's salmon leap across the three walls and landed on the ground inside the stronghold. There, he dealt three blows with his sword, so that eight men fell from each blow, but one was left unharmed. Those three who survived were Emer's three brothers, Scibur, Ibur and Cat. Forgall tried to jump onto the outside wall, fleeing from Cuchullain, but he fell and died. Then Cuchullain carried off Emer and her foster-sister, and their combined weight in gold and silver, and jumped back over the three walls of the stronghold.

Cries were raised from every direction around them. Scenn Menn rushed forward, and Cuchullain killed him at the ford which is now called the Ford of Scenn Menn. They escaped as far as Glondath, where Cuchullain killed a hundred of their pursuers. 'Great is the deed you have done,' said Emer, 'to have killed a hundred armed, able-bodied men.' 'Then its name from now on shall be Glond-ath, the Ford of the Deed,' replied Cuchullain.

Then they came to the hill which is now called Crufoit, but was then called Rae-Ban (white field). He dealt so many vicious blows that streams of blood flowed down each side of it. 'Thanks to you, the hill is covered in blood-stained turf,' said Emer. And so it is now called Cru-foit, Blood Turf.

Their pursuers caught up with them at Ath n-Imfuait on the Boyne. Emer got out of the chariot, and Cuchullain pursued southward them along the banks, clods flying northward from the horses' hooves. Then he turned and pursued them northward, and the clods flew southward. Hence it is called the Ford of the Two Clods.

From Ath Scenn Menn at Ollbine to the Boyne at Breg, Cuchullain killed a hundred at every ford, and so fulfilled every condition Emer had put on him, and came out of it all safely.

They reached Emain Macha shortly before nightfall. Emer was brought before Conchobor and the men of Ulster, and they welcomed her. But there was a sharp-tongued man there called Bricriu mac Carbada, who said, 'Cuchullain's going to find tonight difficult to cope with. The woman he has brought here will have to sleep with Conchobor first - the first forcing of girls in Ulster is always his.'

Cuchullain shook with anger at this, so much that the cushion he was sitting on burst, and the feathers flew around the house. Raging, he ran outside. 'This is a problem,' said Cathbad. 'The king can't refuse to do what Bricriu says - but Cuchullain would surely kill any man who slept with his wife!'

'Call Cuchullain back in,' said Conchobor, 'and we'll try to cool his rage.' When Cuchullain came back in, Conchobor told him to bring him all the herds around Sliab Fuait. So Cuchullain went out and rounded up all the pigs and deer, and all the other animals and birds he could find, and drove them onto the green of Emain Macha. By the time he had done that, his anger had subsided.

The men of Ulster argued, and eventually decided that Emer should sleep in Conchobor's bed that night, but so should Fergus and Cathbad, to protect Cuchullain's honour. They said that the whole of Ulster would bless the couple if Cuchullain accepted this. He did, and so it was done. The next day, Conchobor paid Emer's dowry, and Cuchullain was given his honour price. Cuchullain then took Emer as his wife, and from then on they were never separated until they died.

"Let a message be sent to him," said Ailill, "that Finnabair my daughter will be bestowed on him, and for him to keep away from the hosts." Manè Athramail ('Fatherlike') goes to him. But first he addresses himself to Laeg. "Whose man art thou?" spake Manè. Now Laeg made no answer. Thrice Manè addressed him in this same wise. "Cuchullain's man," Laeg answers, "and provoke me not, lest it happen I strike thy head off thee!" "This man is mad," quoth Manè as he leaves him.

Then he goes to accost Cuchullain. It was there Cuchullain had doffed his tunic, and the deep snow was around him where he sat, up to his belt, and the snow had melted a cubit around him for the greatness of the heat of the hero. And Manè addressed him three times in like manner, whose man he was?" Conchobar's man, and do not provoke me. For if thou provokes me any longer I will strike thy head off thee as one strikes off the head of a blackbird!" "No easy thing," quoth Manè, "to speak to these two." Thereupon Manè leaves them and tells his tale to Ailill and Medb.

"Let Lugaid go to him," said Ailill, "and offer him the girl." Thereupon Lugaid goes and repeats this to Cuchullain. "O master Lugaid," quoth Cuchullain, "it is a snare!" "It is the word of a king; he hath said it," Lugaid answered; "there can be no snare in it." "So be it," said Cuchullain. Forthwith Lugaid leaves him and takes that answer to Ailill and Medb. "Let the fool go forth in my form," said Ailill, "and the king's crown on his head, and let him stand some way off from Cuchullain lest he know him; and let the girl go with him and let the fool promise her to him, and let them depart quickly in this wise. And methinks ye will play a trick on him thus, so that he will not stop you any further till he comes with the Ulstermen to the battle."

Then the fool goes to him and the girl along with him, and from afar he addresses Cuchullain. The Hound comes to meet him. It happened he knew by the man's speech that he was a fool. A clingstone that was in his hand he threw at him so that it entered his head and bore out his brains. He comes up to the maiden, cuts off her two tresses and thrusts a stone under her cloak and her tunic, and plants a standing-stone through the middle of the fool. Their two pillar-stones are there, even the pillar-stone of Finnabair and the pillar-stone of the fool.

Cuchullain left them in this plight. A party was sent out from Ailill and Medb to search for their people, for it was long they thought they were gone, when they saw them in this wise. This thing was noised abroad by all the host in the camp. Thereafter there was no truce for them with Cuchullain.

Then the men of Erin took counsel who would be fit to send to the ford to fight and do battle with Cuchullain, to drive him off from them at the morning hour early on the morrow. With one accord they declared that it should be Ferdiad son of Daman son of Darè, the great and valiant warrior of the men of Dornnann. And fitting it was for him to go thither, for well-matched and alike was their manner of fight and of combat. Under the same instructresses had they done skillful deeds of valour and arms, when learning the art with Scathach ('the Modest') and with Uathach ('the Dreadful') and with Aifè ('the Handsome'). And neither of them overmatched the other, save in the feat of the Gae Bulga ('the Barbed Spear') which Cuchullain possessed. Howbeit, against this, Ferdiad was horn-skinned when fighting and in combat with a warrior on the ford.

Then were messengers and envoys sent to Ferdiad. Ferdiad denied them their will, and sent back the messengers, and he went not with them, for he knew wherefore they would have him, to fight and combat with his friend, with his comrade and foster-brother, Cuchullain. Then did Medb despatch the druids and the poets of the camp, the lampoonists and hard-attackers, for Ferdiad, to the end that they might make three satires to stay him and three scoffing speeches against him, that they might raise three blisters on his face, Blame, Blemish and Disgrace, if he came not with them.
Ferdiad came with them for the sake of his own honour, forasmuch as he deemed it better to fall by the shafts of valour and bravery and skill, than to fall by the shafts of satire, abuse and reproach. And when Ferdiad was come into the camp, he was honoured and waited on, and choice, well-flavoured strong liquor was poured out for him till he became drunken and merry. Great rewards were promised him if he would make the fight and combat, namely a chariot worth four times seven bondmaids, and the apparel of two men and ten men, of cloth of every colour, and the equivalent of the Plain of Murthemne of the rich Plain of Ai, free of tribute, without duress for his son, or for his grandson, or for his great-grandson, till the end of time and existence.

Such were the words of Medb, and she spake them here and Ferdiad responded:

Medb: "Great rewards in arm-rings,
Share of plain and forest
Freedom of thy children
From this day till doom!
Ferdiad son of Daman,
More than thou couldst hope for,
Why shouldst thou refuse it,
That which all would take?"
Ferdiad: "Naught I'll take without bond--
No ill spearman am I--
Hard on me to-morrow:
Great will be the strife!
Hound that's hight of Culann,
How his thrust is grievous!
No soft thing to stand him;
Rude will be the wound!"
Medb: "Champions will be surety,
Thou needst not keep hostings.
Reins and splendid horses
Shall be given as pledge!
Ferdiad, good, of battle,
For that thou art dauntless,
Thou shalt be my lover,
Past all, free of cain !"
Ferdiad: "Without bond I'll go not
To engage in ford-feats;
It will live till doomsday
In full strength and force.
Ne'er I'll yield-- who hears me,
Whoe'er counts upon me--
Without sun- and moon-oath,
Without sea and land!"
Medb: "Why then dost delay it?
Bind it as it please thee,
By kings' hands and princes',
Who will stand for thee!
Lo, I will repay thee,
Thou shalt have thine asking,
For I know thou'lt slaughter
Man that meeteth thee!"
Ferdiad: "Nay, without six sureties--
It shall not be fewer--
Ere I do my exploits
There where hosts will be!
Should my will be granted,
I swear, though unequal,
That I'll meet in combat
Cuchullain the brave!"
Medb: "Domnall, then, or Carbrè,
Niaman famed for slaughter,
Or e'en folk of barddom,
Natheless, thou shalt have.
Bind thyself on Morann,
Wouldst thou its fulfilment
Bind on smooth Man's Carbrè,
And our two sons, bind!"
Ferdiad: "Medb, with wealth of cunning,
Whom no spouse can bridle,
Thou it is that herdest
Cruachan of the mounds!
High thy fame and wild power!
Mine the fine pied satin;
Give thy gold and silver,
Which were proffered me!"
Medb: "To thee, foremost champion,
I will give my ringed brooch.
From this day till Sunday,
Shall thy respite be!
Warrior, mighty, famous,
All the earth's fair treasures
Shall to thee be given;
Everything be thine!
"Finnabair of the champions (?),
Queen of western Erin,
When thou'st slain the Smith's Hound,
Ferdiad, she's thine!"

Then said they, one and all, those gifts were great. "'Tis true, they are great. But though they are," said Ferdiad, "with Medb herself I will leave them, and I will not accept them if it be to do battle or combat with my foster-brother, the man of my alliance and affection, and my equal in skill of arms, namely, with Cuchullain." And he said:

"Greatest toil, this, greatest toil,
Battle with the Hound of gore!
Liefer would I battle twice
With two hundred men of Fal!

"Sad the fight, and sad the fight,
I and Hound of feats shall wage!
We shall hack both flesh and blood;
Skin and body we shall hew!
"Sad, O god, yea, sad, O god,
That a woman should us part!
My heart's half, the blameless Hound;
Half the brave Hound's heart am I!
"By my shield, O by my shield,
If Ath Cliath's brave Hound should fall,
I will drive my slender glaive
Through my heart, my side, my breast!
"By my sword, O by my sword,
If the Hound of Glen Bolg fall!
No man after him I'll slay,
Till I o'er the world's brink spring!
"By my hand, O, by my hand!
Falls the Hound of Glen in Sgail,
Medb with all her host I'll kill
And then no more men of Fal!
"By my spear, O, by my spear!
Should Ath Cro's brave Hound be slain,
I'll be buried in his grave;
May one grave hide me and him!
"Tell him this, O tell him this,
To the Hound of beauteous hue
Fearless Scathach hath foretold
My fall on a ford through him!
"Woe to Medb, yea, woe to Medb,
Who hath used her guile on us;
She hath set me face to face
'Gainst Cuchullain-- hard the toil!"
"Ye men," spake Medb, in the wonted fashion of stirring up disunion and dissension, "true is the word Cuchullain speaks." "What word is that?" asked Ferdiad. "He said, then," replied Medb, "he would not think it too much if thou shouldst fall by his hands in the choicest feat of his skill in arms, in the land whereto he should come." "It was not just for him to speak so," quoth Ferdiad; "for it is not cowardice or lack of boldness that he hath ever seen in me. And I swear by my arms of valour, if it be true that he spoke so, I will be the first man of the men of Erin to contend with him on the morrow!" "A blessing and victory upon thee for that!" said Medb; "it pleaseth me more than for thee to show fear and lack of boldness. For every man loves his own land, and how is it better for him to seek the welfare of Ulster, than for thee to seek the welfare of Connacht?"

Then it was that Medb obtained from Ferdiad the easy surety of a covenant to fight and contend on the morrow with six warriors of the champions of Erin, or to fight and contend with Cuchullain alone, if to him this last seemed lighter. Ferdiad obtained of Medb the easy surety, as he thought, to send the aforesaid six men for the fulfilment of the terms which had been promised him, should Cuchullain fall at his hands.
Then were Fergus' horses fetched for him and his chariot was yoked, and he came forward to the place of combat where Cuchullain was, to inform him of the challenge. Cuchullain bade him welcome. "Welcome is thy coming, O my master Fergus!" cried Cuchullain. "Truly intended, methinks, the welcome, O fosterling," said Fergus. "But, it is for this I am here, to inform thee who comes to fight and contend with thee at the morning hour early on the morrow." "E'en so will we hear it from thee," said Cuchullain. "Thine own friend and comrade and foster-brother, the man thine equal in feats and in skill of arms and in deeds, Ferdiad son of Daman son of Darè, the great and mighty warrior of the men of Domnann."
"As my soul liveth," replied Cuchullain, "it is not to an encounter we wish our friend to come." "It is even for that," answered Fergus, "thou shouldst be on thy guard and prepared. For unlike all to whom it fell to fight and contend with thee on the Cualnge Cattle-raid on this occasion is Ferdiad son of Daman son of Darè." "Truly am I here," said Cuchullain, "checking and staying four of the five grand provinces of Erin from Monday at Summer's end till the beginning of spring. And in all this time, I have not put foot in retreat before any one man nor before a multitude, and methinks just as little will I turn foot in flight before him."
So spake Fergus, putting him on his guard, and he said these words and Cuchullain responded:

Fergus: "O Cuchullain-- splendid deed--
Lo, 'tis time for thee to rise.
Here in rage against thee comes
Ferdiad, red-faced Daman's son!"
Cuchullain: "Here am I-- no easy task--
Holding Erin's men at bay;
Foot I've never turned in flight
In my fight with single foe!"
Fergus: "Dour the man when anger moves,
Owing to his gore-red glaive;
Ferdiad wears a skin of horn,
'Gainst which fight nor might prevails!"
Cuchullain: "Be thou still urge not thy tale,
Fergus of the mighty arms.
On no land and on no ground,
For me is there aught defeat!"
Fergus: "Fierce the man with scores of deeds;
No light thing, him to subdue.
Strong as hundreds-- brave his mien--
Point pricks not, edge cuts him not!"
Cuchullain: "If we clash upon the ford,
I and Ferdiad of known skill,
We'll not part without we know:
Fierce will be our weapon fight!"
Fergus: "More I'd wish it than reward,
O Cuchullain of red sword,
Thou shouldst be the one to bring
Eastward haughty Ferdiad's spoils!"
Cuchullain: "Now I give my word and vow,
Though unskilled in strife of words,
It is I will conquer this
Son of Daman macDarè!"
Fergus: It is I brought east the host,
Thus requiting Ulster's wrong.
With me came they from their lands,
With their heroes and their chiefs!"
Cuchullain: "Were not Conchobar in the 'Pains,'
Hard 'twould be to come near us.
Never Medb of Mag in Scail
On more tearful march had come!"
Fergus: "Greatest deed awaits thy hand:
Fight with Ferdiad, Daman's son.
Hard stern arms with stubborn edge,
Shalt thou have, thou Culann's Hound!"
After that, Fergus returned to the camp and halting-place. As for Ferdiad, he betook himself to his tent and to his people, and imparted to them the easy surety which Medb had obtained from him to do combat and battle with six warriors on the morrow, or to do combat and battle with Cuchullain alone, if he thought it a lighter task. He made known to them also the fair terms he had obtained from Medb of sending the same six warriors for the fulfilment of the covenant she had made with him, should Cuchullain fall by his hands. The folk of Ferdiad were not joyful, blithe, cheerful or merry that night, but they were sad, sorrowful and downcast, for they knew that where the two champions and the two bulwarks in a gap for a hundred met in combat, one or other of them would fall there or both would fall, and if it should be one of them, they believed it would be their king and their own lord that would fall there, for it was not easy to contend and do battle with Cuchullain on the Raid for the Kine of Cualnge.
Ferdiad slept right heavily the first part of the night, but when the end of the night was come, his sleep and his heaviness left him. And the anxiousness of the combat and the battle came upon him. And he charged his charioteer to take his horses and to yoke his chariot. The charioteer sought to dissuade him from that journey. "By our word," said the gilla, "'twould be better for thee to remain than to go thither," said he. And in this manner he spake, and he uttered these words, and the henchman responded:
Ferdiad: "Let's haste to th' encounter,
To battle with this man;
The ford we will come to,
O'er which Badb will shriek!
To meet with Cuchullain,
To wound his slight body,
To thrust the spear through him
So that he may die!"

The Henchman: "To stay it were better;
Your threats are not gentle
Death's sickness will one have,
And sad will ye part!
To meet Ulster's noblest
To meet whence ill cometh;
Long will men speak of it.
Alas, for your course!"
Ferdiad: "Not fair what thou speakest;
No fear hath the warrior;
We owe no one meekness;
We stay not for thee!
Hush, gilla, about us!
The time will bring strong hearts;
More meet strength than weakness;
Let's on to the tryst!"
Ferdiad's horses were now brought forth and his chariot was hitched, and he set out from the camp for the ford of battle when yet day with its full light had not come there for him. "Come, gilla," said Ferdiad, "spread for me the cushions and skins of my chariot under me here, so that I sleep off my heavy fit of sleep and slumber here, for I slept not the last part of the night with the anxiousness of the battle and combat." The gilla unharnessed the horses; he unfastened the chariot under him. He slept off the heavy fit of sleep that was on him.
Now how Cuchullain fared is related here: He arose not till the day with its bright light had come to him, lest the men of Erin might say it was fear or fright of the champion he had, if he should arise early. And when day with its full light had come, he passed his hand over his face and bade his charioteer take his horses and yoke them to his chariot. "Come, gilla," said Cuchullain, "take out our horses for us and harness our chariot, for an early riser is the warrior appointed to meet us, Ferdiad son of Daman son of Darè. "The horses are taken out," said the gilla; "the chariot is harnessed. Mount, and be it no shame to thy valour to go thither!"

Then it was that the cutting, feat-performing, battle-winning, red-sworded hero, Cuchullain son of Sualtaim, mounted his chariot, so that there shrieked around him the goblins and fiends and the sprites of the glens and the demons of the air; for the Tuatha De Danann ('the Folk of the Goddess Danu') were wont to set up their cries around him, to the end that the dread and the fear and the fright and the terror of him might be so much the greater in every battle and on every field, in every fight and in every combat wherein he went.

Not long had Ferdiad's charioteer waited when he heard something: A rush and a crash and a hurtling sound, and a din and a thunder, and a clatter and a clash, namely, the shield-cry of feat-shields, and the jangle of javelins, and the deed-striking of swords, and the thud of the helmet, and the ring of spears, and the striking of arms, the fury of feats, the straining of ropes, and the whirr of wheels, and the creaking of the chariot, and the trampling of horses' hoofs, and the deep voice of the hero and battle-warrior on his way to the ford to attack his opponent. The servant came and touched his master with his hand. "Ferdiad, master," said the youth, "rise up! They are here to meet thee at the ford." And the gilla spake these words:
"The roll of a chariot,
Its fair yoke of silver;
A man great and stalwart
O'ertops the strong car!
O'er Bri Ross, o'er Branè
Their swift path they hasten;
Past Old-tree Town's tree-stump,
Victorious they speed!

"A sly Hound that driveth,
A fair chief that urgeth,
A free hawk that speedeth
His steeds towards the south!
Gore-coloured, the Cua,
'Tis sure he will take us
We know-- vain to hide it--
He brings us defeat!
Woe him on the hillock,
The brave Hound before him;
Last year I foretold it,
That some time he'd come!
Hound from Emain Macha,
Hound formed of all colours,
The Border-hound War-hound,
I hear what I've heard!"

"Come, gilla," said Ferdiad; "for what reason laudest thou this man ever since I am come from my house? And it is almost a cause for strife with thee that thou hast praised him thus highly. But, Ailill and Medb have prophesied to me that this man will fall by my hand. And since it is for a reward, he shall quickly be torn asunder by me, but it is time to fetch help." And he spake these words, and the henchman responded:

Ferdiad: "'Tis time now to help me;
Be silent! cease praising!
'Twas no deed of friendship,
No doom o'er the brink(?)
The Champion of Cualnge,
Thou seest 'midst proud feats,
For that it's for guerdon,
Shall quickly be slain!"

The Henchman: "I see Cualnge's hero,
With feats overweening,
Not fleeing he flees us,
But towards us he comes.
He runneth-- not slowly--
Though cunning-- not sparing--
Like water down high cliff
Or thunderbolt quick!"
Ferdiad: "'Tis cause of a quarrel,
So much thou hast praised him;
And why hast thou chose him,
Since I am from home?
And now they extol him,
They fall to proclaim him;
None come to attack him,
But soft simple men(?)."
Here followeth the Description of Cuchullain's chariot, one of the three chief Chariots of the Tale of the Foray of Cualnge.

It was not long that Ferdiad's charioteer remained there when he saw something: a beautiful, five-pointed chariot, approaching with swiftness, with speed, with perfect skill; with a green shade, with a thin-framed, dry-bodied (?) box surmounted with feats of cunning, straight-poled, as long as a warrior's sword. On this was room for a hero's seven arms, the fair seat for its lord; behind two fleet steeds, large-eared, gaily prancing, with inflated nostrils, broad-chested, quick-hearted, high-flanked, broad-hoofed, slender-limbed, overpowering and resolute. A grey, broad-hipped, small-stepping, long-maned horse was under one of the yokes of the chariot; a black, crisped-maned, swift-moving, broad-backed horse under the other. Like unto a hawk after its prey on a sharp tempestuous day, or to a tearing blast of wind of Spring on a March day over the back of a plain, or unto a startled stag when first roused by the hounds in the first of the chase, were Cuchullain's two horses before the chariot, as if they were on glowing, fiery flags, so that they shook the earth and made it tremble with the fleetness of their course.
And Cuchullain reached the ford. Ferdiad waited on the south side of the ford; Cuchullain stood on the north side. Ferdiad bade welcome to Cuchullain. "Welcome is thy coming, O Cuchullain!" said Ferdiad. "Truly spoken meseemed thy welcome till now," answered Cuchullain; "but to-day I put no more trust in it. And, O Ferdiad," said Cuchullain, "it were fitter for me to bid thee welcome than that thou should'st welcome me; for it is thou that art come to the land and province wherein I dwell, and it is not fitting for thee to come to contend and do battle with me but it were fitter for me to go to contend and do battle with thee. For before thee in flight are my women and my boys and my youths, my steeds and my troops of horses, my droves, my flocks and my herds of cattle."

"Good, O Cuchullain," spake Ferdiad; "what has ever brought thee out to contend and do battle with me? For when we were together with Scathach and with Uathach and with Aifè, thou wast my serving-man, even for arming my spear and dressing my bed." "That was indeed true," answered Cuchullain; "because of my youth and my littleness did I so much for thee, but this is by no means my mood this day. For there is not a warrior in the world I would not drive off this day."

And then it was that each of them cast sharp-cutting reproaches at the other, renouncing his friendship. And Ferdiad spake these words there, and Cuchullain responded:

Ferdiad: "What led thee, O Cua,
To fight a strong champion?
Thy flesh will be gore-red
O'er smoke of thy steeds!
Alas for thy journey,
A kindling of firebrands;
In sore need of healing,
If home thou shouldst reach!"

Cuchullain: "I'm come before warriors
Around the herd's wild Boar,
Before troops and hundreds,
To drown thee in deep
In anger, to prove thee
In hundred-fold battle,
Till on thee come havoc,
Defending thy head!"
Ferdiad: "Here stands one to crush thee,
'Tis I will destroy thee,
. . . . .
From me there shall come
The flight of their warriors
In presence of Ulster,
That long they'll remember
The loss that was theirs!"
Cuchullain: "How then shall we combat?
For wrongs shall we heave sighs?
Despite all, we'll go there,
To fight on the ford!
Or is it with hard swords,
Or e'en with red spear-points,
Before hosts to slay thee,
If thy hour hath come?"
Ferdiad: "'Fore sunset, 'fore nightfall--
If need be, then guard thee--
I'll fight thee at Bairchè,
Not bloodlessly fight!
The Ulstermen call thee,
'He has him!' Oh, hearken!
The sight will distress them
That through them will pass!"
Cuchullain: "In danger's gap fallen,
At hand is thy life's term;
On thee plied be weapons,
Not gentle the skill!
One champion will slay thee;
We both will encounter;
No more shalt lead forays,
From this day till Doom!"
Ferdiad: "Avaunt with thy warnings,
Thou world's greatest braggart;
Nor guerdon nor pardon,
Low warrior for thee!
'Tis I that well know thee,
Thou heart of a cageling--
This lad merely tickles--
Without skill or force!"
Cuchullain: "When we were with Scathach,
For wonted arms' training,
Together we'd fare forth,
To seek every fight.
Thou wast my heart's comrade,
My clan and my kinsman;
Ne'er found I one dearer;
Thy loss would be sad!"
Ferdiad: "Thou wager'st thine honour
Unless we do battle;
Before the cock croweth,
Thy head on a spit!
Cuchullain of Cualnge,
Mad frenzy hath seized thee
All ill we'll wreak on thee,
For thine is the sin!"

"Come now, O Ferdiad," cried Cuchullain, "not meet was it for thee to come to contend and do battle with me, because of the instigation and intermeddling of Ailill and Medb. And all that came because of those promises of deceit, neither profit nor success did it bring them, and they have fallen by me. And none the more, Ferdiad, shall it win victory or increase of fame for thee; and, shalt thou too fall by my hand!" Thus he spake, and he further uttered these words and Ferdiad hearkened to him:--

"Come not nigh me, noble chief,
Ferdiad, comrade, Daman's son.
Worse for thee than 'tis for me;
Thou'lt bring sorrow to a host!

"Come not nigh me 'gainst all right;
Thy last bed is made by me.
Why shouldst thou alone escape
From the prowess of my arms?
"Shall not great feats thee undo,
Though thou'rt purple, horny-skinned?
And the maid thou boastest of,
Shall not, Daman's son, be thine!
"Finnabair, Medb's daughter fair,
Great her charms though they may be,
Fair as is the damsel's form,
She's for thee not to enjoy!
"Finnabair, the king's own child,
Is the lure, if truth be told;
Many they whom she's deceived
And undone as she has thee!
"Break not, weetless, oath with me;
Break not friendship, break not bond;
Break not promise, break not word;
Come not nigh me, noble chief!
"Fifty chiefs obtained in plight
This same maid, a proffer vain.
Through me went they to their graves;
Spear-right all they had from me!
"Though for brave was held Ferbaeth,
With whom was a warriors' train,
In short space I quelled his rage;
Him I slew with one sole blow!
"Srubdarè-- sore sank his might--
Darling of the noblest dames,
Time there was when great his fame--
Gold nor raiment saved him not!
"Were she mine affianced wife,
Smiled on me this fair land's head,
I would not thy body hurt,
Right nor left, in front, behind!"

"Good, O Ferdiad!" cried Cuchullain. "It is not right for thee to come to fight and combat with me; for when we were with Scathach and with Uathach and with Aifè, and it was together we were used to seek out every battle and every battle-field, every combat and every contest, every wood and every desert, every covert and every recess." And thus he spake and he uttered these words:

Cuchullain: "We were heart-companions once;
We were comrades in the woods;
We were men that shared a bed,
When we slept the heavy sleep,
After hard and weary fights.
Into many lands, so strange,
Side by side we sallied forth,
And we ranged the woodlands through,
When with Scathach we learned arms!"

Ferdiad: "O Cuchullain, rich in feats,
Hard the trade we both have learned;
Treason hath o'ercome our love;
Thy first wounding hath been bought;
Think not of our friendship more,
Cua, it avails thee not!"

"Too long are we now in this way," quoth Ferdiad; "and what arms shall we resort to to-day, O Cuchullain?" "With thee is thy choice of weapons this day," answered Cuchullain, "for thou art he that first didst reach the ford." "Rememberest thou at all," asked Ferdiad "the choice deeds of arms we were wont to practise with Scathach and with Uathach and with Aifè?" "Indeed, and I do remember," answered Cuchullain. "If thou rememberest, let us begin with them."

They betook them to their choicest deeds of arms. They took upon them two equally-matched shields for feats, and their eight-edged targes for feats, and their eight small darts, and their eight straightswords with ornaments of walrus-tooth and their eight lesser, ivoried spears which flew from them and to them like bees on a day of fine weather. They cast no weapon that struck not. Each of them was busy casting at the other with those missiles from morning's early twilight till noon at mid-day, the while they overcame their various feats with the bosses and hollows of their feat-shields. However great the excellence of the throwing on either side, equally great was the excellence of the defence, so that during all that time neither of them bled or reddened the other. "Let us cease now from this bout of arms, O Cuchullain," said Ferdiad; "for it is not by such our decision will come." "Yea, surely, let us cease, if the time hath come," answered Cuchullain. Then they ceased. They threw their feat-tackle from them into the hands of their charioteers.

"To what weapons shall we resort next, O Cuchullain?" asked Ferdiad. "Thine is the choice of weapons till nightfall," replied Cuchullain; "for thou art he that didst first reach the ford." "Let us begin, then," said Ferdiad, "with our straight-cut, smooth-hardened throwing-spears, with cords of full-hard flax on them." "Aye, let us begin then," assented Cuchullain. Then they took on them two hard shields, equally strong. They fell to their straight-cut, smooth-hardened spears with cords of full-hard flax on them. Each of them was engaged in casting at the other with the spears from the middle of noon till the hour of evening's sundown. However great the excellence of the defence, equally great was the excellence of the throwing on either side, so that each of them bled and reddened and wounded the other during that time. "Let us leave off from this now, O Cuchullain," said Ferdiad. "Aye, let us leave off, if the time hath come," answered Cuchullain. So they ceased. They threw their arms from them into the hands of their charioteers.

Thereupon each of them went toward the other in the middle of the ford, and each of them put his hand on the other's neck and gave him three kisses. Their horses were in one and the same paddock that night, and their charioteers at one and the same fire; and their charioteers made ready a litter-bed of fresh rushes for them with pillows for wounded men on them. Then came healing and curing folk to heal and to cure them, and they laid healing herbs and grasses and a curing charm on their cuts and stabs, their gashes and many wounds. Of every healing herb and grass and curing charm that was brought and was applied to the cuts and stabs, to the gashes and many wounds of Cuchullain, a like portion thereof he sent across the ford westward to Ferdiad, so that the men of Erin should not have it to say, should Ferdiad fall at his hands, it was more than his share of care had been given to him.

Of every food and of every savoury, soothing and strong drink that was brought by the men of Erin to Ferdiad, a like portion thereof he sent over the ford northwards to Cuchullain; for the purveyors of Ferdiad were more numerous than the purveyors of Cuchullain. All the men of Erin were purveyors to Ferdiad, to the end that he might keep Cuchullain off from them. But only the inhabitants of Mag Breg ('the Plain of Breg') were purveyors to Cuchullain. They were wont to come daily, that is, every night, to converse with him.

They bided there that night. Early on the morrow they arose and went their ways to the ford of combat. "To what weapons shall we resort on this day, O Ferdiad?" asked Cuchullain. "Thine is the choosing of weapons," Ferdiad made answer, "because it was I had my choice of weapons on the day aforegone." "Let us take, then," said Cuchullain, "to our great, well-tempered lances to-day, for we think that the thrusting will bring nearer the decisive battle to-day than did the casting of yesterday. Let our horses be brought to us and our chariots yoked, to the end that we engage in combat over our horses and chariots on this day." "Aye, let us go so," Ferdiad assented.

Thereupon they girded two full-firm broadshields on them for that day. They took to their great, well-tempered lances on that day. Either of them began to pierce and to drive, to throw and to press down the other, from early morning's twilight till the hour of evening's close. If it were the wont for birds in flight to fly through the bodies of men, they could have passed through their bodies on that day and carried away pieces of blood and flesh through their wounds and their sores into the clouds and the air all around. And when the hour of evening's close was come, their horses were spent and their drivers were wearied, and they themselves, the heroes and warriors of valour, were exhausted. "Let us give over now, O Ferdiad," said Cuchullain, "for our horses are spent and our drivers tired, and when they are exhausted, why should we too not be exhausted?" And in this wise he spake, and he uttered these words at that place:

"We need not our chariots break--
This, a struggle fit for giants.
Place the hobbles on the steeds,
Now that din of arms is o'er!"

"Yea, we will cease, if the time hath come," replied Ferdiad. They ceased then. They threw their arms away from them into the hands of their charioteers. Each of them came towards his fellow. Each laid his hand on the other's neck and gave him three kisses. Their horses were in the one pen that night, and their charioteers at the one fire. Their charioteers prepared two litter-beds of fresh rushes for them with pillows for wounded men on them. The curing and healing men came to attend and watch and mark them that night; for naught else could they do, because of the direfulness of their cuts and their stabs, their gashes and their numerous wounds, but apply to them philtres and spells and charms, to staunch their blood and their bleeding and their deadly pains. Of every magic potion and every spell and every charm that was applied to the cuts and stabs of Cuchullain, their like share he sent over the ford westwards to Ferdiad. Of every food and every savoury, soothing and strong drink that was brought by the men of Erin to Ferdiad, an equal portion he sent over the ford northwards to Cuchullain, for the victuallers of Ferdiad were more numerous than the victuallers of Cuchullain. For all the men of Erin were Ferdiad's nourishers, to the end that he might ward off Cuchullain from them. But the indwellers of the Plain of Breg alone were Cuchullain's nourishers. They were wont to come daily, that is, every night, to converse with him.

They abode there that night. Early on the morrow they arose and repaired to the ford of combat. Cuchullain marked an evil mien and a dark mood that day on Ferdiad. "It is evil thou appearest to-day, O Ferdiad," spake Cuchullain; "thy hair has become dark to-day, and thine eye has grown drowsy, and thine upright form and thy features and thy gait have gone from thee!" "Truly not for fear nor for dread of thee is that happened to me to-day," answered Ferdiad; "for there is not in Erin this day a warrior I could not repel!" And Cuchullain lamented and moaned, and he spake these words and Ferdiad responded:

Cuchullain: "Ferdiad, ah, if it be thou,
Well I know thou'rt doomed to die!
To have gone at woman's hest,
Forced to fight thy comrade sworn!"

Ferdiad: "O Cuchullain-- wise decree--
Loyal champion, hero true,
Each man is constrained to go
'Neath the sod that hides his grave!"
Cuchullain: "Finnabair, Medb's daughter fair,
Stately maiden though she be,
Not for love they'll give to thee,
But to prove thy kingly might!"
Ferdiad: "Provèd was my might long since,
Cu of gentle spirit thou.
Of one braver I've not heard;
Till to-day I have not found!"
Cuchullain: "Thou art he provoked this fight,
Son of Daman, Darè's son,
To have gone at woman's word,
Swords to cross with thine old friend!"
Ferdiad: "Should we then unfought depart,
Brothers though we are, bold Hound,
Ill would be my word and fame
With Ailill and Cruachan's Medb!"
Cuchullain: "Food has not yet passed his lips,
Nay nor has he yet been born,
Son of king or blameless queen,
For whom I would work thee harm!"
Ferdiad: "Culann's Hound, with floods of deeds,
Medb, not thou, hath us betrayed;
Fame and victory thou shalt have;
Not on thee we lay our fault!"
Cuchullain: "Clotted gore is my brave heart,
Near I'm parted from my soul;
Wrongful 'tis-- with hosts of deeds--
Ferdiad, dear, to fight with thee!"

"How much soever thou findest fault with me to-day," said Ferdiad, "it will be as an offset to my prowess." And he said, "To what weapons shall we resort to-day?" "With thyself is the choice of weapons to-day," replied Cuchullain, "for it is I that chose on the day gone by." "Let us resort, then," said Ferdiad, "to our heavy, hard-smiting swords this day, for we trow that the smiting each other will bring us nearer to the decision of battle to-day than was our piercing each other on yesterday." "Let us go then, by all means," responded Cuchullain.

Then they took two full-great long-shields upon them for that day. They turned to their heavy, hard-smiting swords. Each of them fell to strike and to hew, to lay low and cut down, to slay and undo his fellow, till as large as the head of a month-old child was each lump and each cut, that each of them took from the shoulders and thighs and shoulder-blades of the other.

Each of them was engaged in smiting the other in this way from the twilight of early morning till the hour of evening's close. "Let us leave off from this now, O Cuchullain!" cried Ferdiad. "Aye, let us leave off, if the hour has come," said Cuchullain. They parted then, and threw their arms away from them into the hands of their charioteers. Though it had been the meeting of two happy, blithe, cheerful, joyful men, their parting that night was of two that were sad, sorrowful and full of suffering. Their horses were not in the same paddock that night. Their charioteers were not at the same fire.

They passed there that night. It was then that Ferdiad arose early on the morrow and went alone to the ford of combat. For he knew that that would be the decisive day of the battle and combat; and he knew that one or other of them would fall there that day, or that they both would fall. It was then he donned his battle-weed of battle and fight and combat, or ever Cuchullain came to meet him. And thus was the manner of this harness of battle and fight and combat: He put his silken, glossy trews with its border of speckled gold, next to his white skin. Over this, outside, he put his brown-leathern, well-sewed kilt. Outside of this he put a huge, goodly flag, the size of a millstone. He put his solid, very deep, iron kilt of twice molten iron over the huge, goodly flag as large as a millstone, through fear and dread of the Gae Bulga on that day.

About his head he put his crested war-cap of battle and fight and combat, whereon were forty carbuncle-gems beautifully adorning it and studded with red-enamel and crystal and rubies and with shining stones of the Eastern world. His angry, fierce-striking spear he seized in his right hand. On his left side he hung his curved battle-falchion, with its golden pommel and its rounded hilt of red gold. On the arch-slope of his back he slung his massive, fine-buffalo shield of a warrior, whereon were fifty bosses, wherein a boar could be shown in each of its bosses, apart from the great central boss of red gold. Ferdiad performed diverse, brilliant, manifold, marvellous feats on high that day, unlearned from any one before, neither from foster-mother nor from foster-father, neither from Scathach nor from Uathach nor from Aifè, but he found them of himself that day in the face of Cuchullain.

Cuchullain likewise came to the ford, and he beheld the various, brilliant, manifold, wonderful feats that Ferdiad performed on high. "Thou seest yonder, O Laeg my master, the divers, bright, numerous, marvellous feats that Ferdiad performs on high, and I shall receive yon feats one after the other. And, therefore, if defeat be my lot this day, do thou prick me on and taunt me and speak evil to me, so that the more my spirit and anger shall rise in me. If, however, before me his defeat takes place, say thou so to me and praise me and speak me fair, to the end that the greater may be my courage!" "It shall surely be done so, if need be, O Cucuc," Laeg answered.

Then Cuchullain, too, girded his war-harness of battle and fight and combat about him, and performed all kinds of splendid, manifold, marvellous feats on high that day which he had not learned from any one before, neither with Scathach nor with Uathach nor with Aifè.

Ferdiad observed those feats, and he knew they would be plied against him in turn. "To what weapons shall we resort to-day, Ferdiad?" asked Cuchullain. "With thee is thy choice of weapons," Ferdiad responded. "Let us go to the 'Feat of the Ford,' then," said Cuchullain. "Aye, let us do so," answered Ferdiad. Albeit Ferdiad spoke that, he deemed it the most grievous thing whereto he could go, for he knew that in that sort Cuchullain used to destroy every hero and every battle-soldier who fought with him in the 'Feat of the Ford.'

Great indeed was the deed that was done on the ford that day. The two heroes, the two champions, the two chariot-fighters of the west of Europe, the two bright torches of valour of the Gael, the two hands of dispensing favour and of giving rewards in the west of the northern world, the two veterans of skill and the two keys of bravery of the Gael, to be brought together in encounter as from afar, through the sowing of dissension and the incitement of Ailill and Medb. Each of them was busy hurling at the other in those deeds of arms from early morning's gloaming till the middle of noon. When mid-day came, the rage of the men became wild, and each drew nearer to the other.

Thereupon Cuchullain gave one spring once from the bank of the ford till he stood upon the boss of Ferdiad macDaman's shield, seeking to reach his head and to strike it from above over the rim of the shield. Straightway Ferdiad gave the shield a blow with his left elbow, so that Cuchullain went from him like a bird onto the brink of the ford. Again Cuchullain sprang from the brink of the ford, so that he alighted upon the boss of Ferdiad macDaman's shield, that he might reach his head and strike it over the rim of the shield from above. Ferdiad gave the shield a thrust with his left knee, so that Cuchullain went from him like an infant onto the bank of the ford.

Laeg espied that. "Woe then, Cuchullain!" cried Laeg; "meseems the battle-warrior that is against thee hath shaken thee as a fond woman shakes her child. He hath washed thee as a cup is washed in a tub. He hath ground thee as a mill grinds soft malt. He hath pierced thee as a tool bores through an oak. He hath bound thee as the bindweed binds the trees. He hath pounced on thee as a hawk pounces on little birds, so that no more hast thou right or title or claim to valour or skill in arms till the very day of doom and of life, thou little imp of an elf-man!" cried Laeg.

Thereat for the third time, Cuchullain arose with the speed of the wind, and the swiftness of a swallow, and the dash of a dragon, and the strength (of a lion) into the clouds of the air, til he alighted on the boss of the shield of Ferdiad son of Daman, so as to reach his head that he might strike it from above over the rim of his shield. Then it was that the battle-warrior gave the shield a violent and powerful shake, so that Cuchullain flew from it into the middle of the ford, the same as if he had not sprung at all.

It was then the first twisting-fit of Cuchullain took place, so that a swelling and inflation filled him like breath in a bladder, until he made a dreadful, terrible, many-coloured, wonderful bow of himself, so that as big as a giant or a man of the sea was the hugely-brave warrior towering directly over Ferdiad.

Such was the closeness of the combat they made, that their heads encountered above and their feet below and their hands in the middle over the rims and bosses of the shields. Such was the closeness of the combat they made, that their shields burst and split from their rims to their centres. Such was the closeness of the combat they made, that their spears bent and turned and shivered from their tips to their rivets.

Such was the closeness of the combat they made, that the boccanach and the bananach and the sprites of the glens and the eldritch beings of the air screamed from the rims of their shields and from the guards of their swords and from the tips of their spears.

Such was the closeness of the combat they made, that they forced the river out of its bed and out of its course, so that there might have been a reclining place for a king or a queen in the middle of the ford, and not a drop of water was in it but what fell there with the trampling and slipping which the two heroes and the two battle-warriors made in the middle of the ford.

Such was the closeness of the combat they made, that the steeds of the Gael broke loose affrighted and plunging with madness and fury, so that their chains and their shackles, their traces and tethers snapped, and the women and children and pygmy-folk, the weak and the madmen among the men of Erin broke out through the camp southwestward.

At that time they were at the edge-feat of swords. It was then Ferdiad caught Cuchullain in an unguarded moment, and he gave him a thrust with his tusk-hilted blade, so that he buried it in his breast, and his blood fell into his belt, till the ford became crimsoned with the clotted blood from the battle-warrior's body. Cuchullain endured it not under Ferdiad's attack, with his death-bringing, heavy blows, and his long strokes and his mighty, middle slashes at him.

Then Cuchullain bethought him of his friends from the Faery land and of his mighty folk who would come to defend him and of his scholars to protect him, what time he would be hard pressed in the combat. It was then that Dolb and Indolb arrived to help and to succour their friend, namely Cuchullain. Then it was that Ferdiad felt the onset of the three together smiting his shield against him, and he gave all his care and attention thereto, and thence he called to mind that, when they were with Scathach and with Uathach [learning together, Dolb and Indolb used to come to help Cuchullain out of every stress wherein he was.]

Ferdiad spake: "Not alike are our foster-brothership and our comradeship O Cuchullain," quoth he. "How so, then?" asked Cuchullain. "Thy friends of the Fairy-folk have succoured thee, and thou didst not disclose them to me before," said Ferdiad. "Not easy for me were that," answered Cuchullain; "for if the magic veil be once revealed to one of the sons of Mile, none of the Tuatha De Danann will have power to practise concealment or magic. And why complainest thou here, Ferdiad?" said Cuchullain. "Thou hast a horn skin whereby to multiply feats and deeds of arms on me, and thou hast not shown me how it is closed or how it is opened." Then it was they displayed all their skill and secret cunning to one another, so that there was not a secret of either of them kept from the other except the Gae Bulga, which was Cuchullain's.

Howbeit, when the Fairy friends found Cuchullain had been wounded, each of them inflicted three great, heavy wounds on him, on Ferdiad, to wit. It was then that Ferdiad made a cast to the right, so that he slew Dolb with that goodly cast. Then followed the two woundings and the two throws that overcame him, till Ferdiad made a second throw towards Cuchullain's left, and with that throw he stretched low and killed Indolb dead on the floor of the ford. Hence it is that the story-teller sang the rann:

"Why is this called Ferdiad's Ford,
E'en though three men on it fell?
None the less it washed their spoils--
It is Dolb's and Indolb's Ford!"

When the devoted equally great sires and champions, and the hard, battle-victorious wild beasts that fought for Cuchullain had fallen, it greatly strengthened the courage of Ferdiad, so that he gave two blows for every blow of Cuchullain's. When Laeg son of Riangabair saw his lord being overcome by the crushing blows of the champion who oppressed him, Laeg began to stir up and rebuke Cuchullain, in such a way that a swelling and an inflation filled Cuchullain from top to ground, as the wind fills a spread, open banner, so that he made a dreadful, wonderful bow of himself like a skybow in a shower of rain, and he made for Ferdiad with the violence of a dragon or the strength of a blood-hound.

And Cuchullain called for the Gae Bulga from Laeg son of Riangabair. This was its nature: With the stream it was made ready, and from between the fork of the foot it was cast; the wound of a single spear it gave when entering the body, and thirty barbs had it when it opened and it could not be drawn out of a man's flesh till the flesh had been cut about it.

Thereupon Laeg came forward to the brink of the river and to the place where the fresh water was dammed, and the Gae Bulga was sharpened and set in position. He filled the pool and stopped the stream and checked the tide of the ford. Ferdiad's charioteer watched the work, for Ferdiad had said to him early in the morning: "Now gilla, do thou hold back Laeg from me to-day, and I will hold back Cuchullain from thee." "This is a pity," quoth the henchman; "no match for him am I; for a man to combat a hundred is he, and that am I not. Still; however slight his help, it shall not come to his lord past me."

He was then watching his brother thus making the dam till he filled the pools and went to set the Gae Bulga downwards. It was then that Id went up and released the stream and opened the dam and undid the fixing of the Gae Bulga. Cuchullain became deep purple and red all over when he saw the setting undone on the Gae Bulga. He sprang from the top of the ground so that he alighted light and quick on the rim of Ferdiad's shield. Ferdiad gave a strong shake to the shield, so that he hurled Cuchullain the measure of nine paces out to the westward over the ford.

Then Cuchullain called and shouted to Laeg to set about preparing the Gae Bulga for him. Laeg hastened to the pool and began the work. Id ran and opened the dam and released it before the stream. Laeg sprang at his brother and they grappled on the spot. Laeg threw Id and handled him sorely, for he was loath to use weapons upon him. Ferdiad pursued Cuchullain westwards over the ford. Cuchullain sprang on the rim of the shield. Ferdiad shook the shield, so that he sent Cuchullain the space of nine paces eastwards over the ford.

Cuchullain called and shouted to Laeg. Laeg attempted to come, but Ferdiad's charioteer let him not, so that Laeg turned on him and left him on the sedgy bottom of the ford. He gave him many a heavy blow with clenched fist on the face and countenance, so that he broke his mouth and his nose and put out his eyes and his sight. And forthwith Laeg left him and filled the pool and checked the stream and stilled the noise of the river's voice, and set in position the Gae Bulga. After some time Ferdiad's charioteer arose from his death-cloud, and set his hand on his face and countenance, and he looked away towards the ford of combat and saw Laeg fixing the Gae Bulga. He ran again to the pool and made a breach in the dike quickly and speedily, so that the river burst out in its booming, bounding, bellying, bank-breaking billows making its own wild course. Cuchullain became purple and red all over when he saw the setting of the Gae Bulga had been disturbed, and for the third time he sprang from the top of the ground and alighted on the edge of Ferdiad's shield, so as to strike him over the shield from above. Ferdiad gave a blow with his left knee against the leather of the bare shield, so that Cuchullain was thrown into the waves of the ford.

Thereupon Ferdiad gave three severe woundings to Cuchullain. Cuchullain cried and shouted loudly to Laeg to make ready the Gae Bulga for him. Laeg attempted to get near it, but Ferdiad's charioteer prevented him. Then Laeg grew very wroth at his brother and he made a spring at him, and he closed his long, full-valiant hands over him, so that he quickly threw him to the ground and straightway bound him. And then he went from him quickly and courageously, so that he filled the pool and stayed the stream and set the Gae Bulga. And he cried out to Cuchullain that it was served, for it was not to be discharged without a quick word of warning before it. Hence it is that Laeg cried out:--

"Ware! beware the Gae Bulga,
Battle-winning Culann's hound!"

Then it was that Cuchullain let fly the white Gae Bulga from the fork of his irresistible right foot. Ferdiad prepared for the feat according to the testimony thereof. He lowered his shield, so that the spear went over its edge into the watery, water-cold river. And he looked at Cuchullain, and he saw all his various, venomous feats made ready, and he knew not to which of them he should first give answer, whether to the 'Fist's breast-spear,' or to the 'Wild shield's broad-spear,' or to the 'Short spear from the middle of the palm,' or to the white Gae Bulga over the fair, watery river.

Ferdiad heard the Gae Bulga called for. He thrust his shield down to protect the lower part of his body. Cuchullain gripped the short spear, cast it off the palm of his hand over the rim of the shield and over the edge of the corselet and horn-skin, so that its farther half was visible after piercing his heart in his bosom. Ferdiad gave a thrust of his shield upwards to protect the upper part of his body, though it was help that came too late. The gilla set the Gae Bulga down the stream, and Cuchullain caught it in the fork of his foot, and threw the Gae Bulga as far as he could cast underneath at Ferdiad, so that it passed through the strong, thick, iron apron of wrought iron, and broke in three parts the huge, goodly stone the size of a millstone, so that it cut its way through the body's protection into him, till every joint and every limb was filled with its barbs.

"Ah, that now sufficeth," sighed Ferdiad: "I am fallen of that! But, yet one thing more: mightily didst thou drive with thy right foot. And 'twas not fair of thee for me to fall by thy hand." And he yet spake and uttered these words:

"O Cu of grand feats,
Unfairly I'm slain!
Thy guilt clings to me;
My blood falls on thee!

"No meed for the wretch
Who treads treason's gap.
Now weak is my voice;
Ah, gone is my bloom!
"My ribs' armour bursts,
My heart is all gore;
I battled not well;
I'm smitten, O Cu!

Thereupon Cuchullain hastened towards Ferdiad and clasped his two arms about him, and bore him with all his arms and his armour and his dress northwards over the ford, that so it should be with his face to the north of the ford the triumph took place and not to the south of the ford with the men of Erin. Cuchullain laid Ferdiad there on the ground, and a cloud and a faint and a swoon came over Cuchullain there by the head of Ferdiad. Laeg espied it, and the men of Erin all arose for the attack upon him. "Come, O Cucuc," cried Laeg; "arise now from thy trance, for the men of Erin will come to attack us, and it is not single combat they will allow us, now that Ferdiad son of Daman son of Darè is fallen by thee." "What availeth it me to arise, O gilla," moaned Cuchullain, "now that this one is fallen by my hand?" In this wise the gilla spake and he uttered these words and Cuchullain responded:

Laeg: "Now arise, O Emain's Hound;
Now most fits thee courage high.
Ferdiad hast thou thrown-- of hosts--
God's fate! How thy fight was hard!"

Cuchullain: What avails me courage now?
I'm oppressed with rage and grief,
For the deed that I have don
On his body sworded sore!"
Laeg: It becomes thee not to weep;
Fitter for thee to exult!
Yon red-speared one thee hath left
Plaintful, wounded, steeped in gore!"
Cuchullain: "Even had he cleaved my leg,
And one hand had severed too;
Woe, that Ferdiad-- who rode steeds--
Shall not ever be in life!"
Laeg: "Liefer far what's come to pass,
To the maidens of Red Branch;
He to die, thou to remain;
They grudge not that ye should part!"
Cuchullain: "From the day I Cualnge left,
Seeking high and splendid Medb,
Carnage has she had-- with fame--
Of her warriors whom I've slain!"
Laeg: "Thou hast had no sleep in peace,
In pursuit of thy great Táin;
Though thy troop was few and small,
Oft thou wouldst rise at early morn!"

Cuchullain began to lament and bemoan Ferdiad, and he spake the words:

"Alas, O Ferdiad," spake he, "'twas thine ill fortune thou didst not take counsel with any of those that knew my real deeds of valour and arms, before we met in clash of battle! Unhappy for thee that Laeg son of Riangabair did not make thee blush in regard to our comradeship! Unhappy for thee that the truly faithful warning of Fergus thou didst not take! Unhappy for thee that dear, trophied, triumphant, battle-victorious Conall counselled thee not in regard to our comradeship! For those men would not have spoken in obedience to the messages or desires or orders or false words of promise of the fair-haired women of Connacht. For well do those men know that there will not be born a being that will perform deeds so tremendous and so great among the Connachtmen as I, till the very day of doom and of everlasting life, whether at plying of spear and sword, at playing at draughts and chess, at driving of steeds and chariots."

"There shall not be found the hand of a hero that will wound warrior's flesh, like cloud-coloured Ferdiad! There shall not be heard from the gap the cry of red-mouthed Badb to the winged, shade-speckled flocks! There shall not be one that will contend for Cruachan that will obtain covenants equal to thine, till the very day of doom and of life henceforward, O red-cheeked son of Daman!" said Cuchullain. Then it was that Cuchullain arose and stood over Ferdiad: "Ah, Ferdiad," spake Cuchullain, "greatly have the men of Erin deceived and abandoned thee, to bring thee to contend and do battle with me. For no easy thing is it to contend and do battle with me on the Raid for the Kine of Cualnge! Thus he spake, and he uttered these words:

"Ah, Ferdiad, betrayed to death.
Our last meeting, oh, how sad!
Thou to die I to remain.
Ever sad our long farewell!

"When we over yonder dwelt
With our Scathach, steadfast, true,
This we thought till end of time,
That our friendship ne'er would end!
"Dear to me thy noble blush;
Dear thy comely, perfect form;
Dear thine eye, blue-grey and clear;
Dear thy wisdom and thy speech!
"Never strode to rending fight,
Never wrath and manhood held,
Nor slung shield across broad back,
One like thee, Daman's red son!
Never have I met till now,
Since I Oenfer Aifè slew,
One thy peer in deeds of arms,
Never have I found, Ferdiad!
Finnabair, Medb's daughter fair,
Beauteous, lovely though she be,
As a gad round sand or stones,
She was shown to thee, Ferdiad!"

Then Cuchullain turned to gaze on Ferdiad. "Ah, my master Laeg," cried Cuchullain, "now strip Ferdiad and take his armour and garments off him, that I may see the brooch for the sake of which he entered on the combat and fight with me." Laeg came up and stripped Ferdiad. He took his armour and garments off him and he saw the brooch and he began to lament and complain over Ferdiad, and he spake these words:

"Alas, golden brooch;
Ferdiad of the hosts,
O good smiter, strong,
Victorious thy hand!

"Thy hair blond and curled,
A wealth fair and grand.
Thy soft, leaf-shaped belt
Around thee till death!
"Our comradeship dear;
Thy noble eye's gleam;
Thy golden-rimmed shield;
Thy sword, treasures worth!
"Thy white-silver torque
Thy noble arm binds.
Thy chess-board worth wealth;
Thy fair, ruddy cheek!
"To fall by my hand,
I own was not just!
'Twas no noble fight.
Alas, golden brooch!

"Come, O Laeg my master," cried Cuchullain; "now cut open Ferdiad and take the Gae Bulga out, because I may not be without my weapons." Laeg came and cut open Ferdiad and he took the Gae Bulga out of him. And Cuchullain saw his weapons bloody and red-stained by the side of Ferdiad, and he uttered these words:

"O Ferdiad, in gloom we meet.
Thee I see both red and pale.
I myself with unwashed arms;
Thou liest in thy bed of gore!

"Were we yonder in the East,
Scathach and our Uathach near,
There would not be pallid lips
Twixt us two, and arms of strife!
"Thus spake Scathach trenchantly (?),
Words of warning, strong and stern.
'Go ye all to furious fight;
German, blue-eyed, fierce will come!'
"Unto Ferdiad then I spake,
And to Lugaid generous,
To the son of fair Baetan,
German we would go to meet!
"We came to the battle-rock,
Over Lake Linn Formait's shore.
And four hundred men we brought
From the Isles of the Athissech!
"As I stood and Ferdiad brave
At the gate of German's fort,
I slew Rinn the son of Nel;
He slew Ruad son of Fornel!
Ferdiad slew upon the slope
Blath, of Colba 'Red-sword' son.
Lugaid, fierce and swift, then slew
Mugairne of the Tyrrhene Sea!
"I slew, after going in,
Four times fifty grim, wild men.
Ferdiad killed-- a furious horde--
Dam Dremenn and Dam Dilenn!
"We laid waste shrewd German's fort
O'er the broad, bespangled sea.
German we brought home alive
To our Scathach of broad shield!
"Then our famous nurse made fast
Our blood-pact of amity,
That our angers should not rise
'Mongst the tribes of noble Elg!
"Sad the morn, a day in March,
Which struck down weak Daman's son.
Woe is me, the friend is fall'n
Whom I pledged in red blood's draught!
"Were it there I saw thy death,
Midst the great Greeks' warrior-bands,
I'd not live on after thee,
But together we would die!
"Woe, what us befel therefrom,
Us, dear Scathach's fosterlings,
Me sore wounded, red with blood,
Thee no more to drive thy car!
"Woe, what us befel therefrom,
Us, dear Scathach's fosterlings,
Me sore wounded, stiff with gore,
Thee to die the death for aye!
"Woe, what us befel therefrom,
Us, dear Scathach's fosterlings,
Thee in death, me, strong, alive.
Valour is an angry strife!"

"Good, O Cucuc," spake Laeg, "let us leave this ford now; too long are we here!" "Aye, let us leave it, O my master Laeg," replied Cuchullain. "But every combat and battle I have fought seems a game and a sport to me compared with the combat and battle of Ferdiad." Thus he spake, and he uttered these words:

All was play, all was sport,
Till came Ferdiad to the ford!
One task for both of us,
Equal our reward.
Our kind, gentle nurse
Chose him over all!

All was play, all was sport,
Till came Ferdiad to the ford!
One our life, one our fear,
One our skill in arms.
Shields gave Scathach twain
To Ferdiad and me!
All was play, all was sport,
Till came Ferdiad to the ford!
Dear the shaft of gold
I smote on the ford.
Bull-chief of the tribes,
Braver he than all!
Only games and only sport,
Till came Ferdiad to the ford!
Lion furious, flaming, fierce;
Swollen wave that wrecks like doom!
Only games and only sport,
Till came Ferdiad to the ford!
Loved Ferdiad seemed to me
After me would live for aye!
Yesterday, a mountain's size--
He is but a shade to-day!
Three things countless on the Táin
Which have fallen by my hand:
Hosts of cattle, men and steeds
I have slaughtered on all sides!
Though the hosts were e'er so great,
That came out of Cruachan wild,
More than third and less than half,
Slew I in my direful sport!
Never trod in battle's ring;
Banba nursed not on her breast;
Never sprang from sea or land,
King's son that had larger fame!"

Calatín Dána, whom Cuchullain had killed along with his twenty-seven sons and his nephew on the Cattle Raid of Cooley, left his wife pregnant. She gave birth to six children, three boys and three girls, and they were brought up to avenge their father.

The sons learned druidry, curses and summoning spells. The daughters learned knowledge and books and witchcraft. All six of them were blinded in the left eye. Great was their longing to avenge their father with the arts they had learned.

They teamed up with Lugaid, son of Cú Roí (whom Cuchullain killed) and Erc, son of Coirpre Nia Fer (whom Cuchullain killed in The Battle of Ros na Rig).

'No, it was no joke for my father to oppose Cuchullain,' said Erc. 'Perhaps it will be no joke for me, if I undertake it.'

'When shall we go against Cuchullain?' said Erc.

'Not hard to tell,' said the sons of Calatín. 'As soon as the three weapons to attack him with are made. It will be the work of a week.'

A week later, Lugaid and Erc said, 'We think it's time to muster the men of Ireland.'

'It's not time yet,' said the sons of Calatín. 'The work of a week is the work of seven years, with one day every year spent making the spears.'

It fell to Maine, a venomous man, to rivet and smooth the spears.

So, seven years later, they mustered their army and marched upon Ulster. Once more, the Ulstermen were struck down with their pangs.

The Ulstermen advised Cuchullain not to go forth to battle until they could accompany him.

'Never before have I had to endure the wails of women and children and not been able to do anything about it!' said Cuchullain.

Fifty queens came forth, and bared their breasts in front of him. They were the same women who first bared their breasts to him, and brought three vats of water to quench his fury. That day he was not allowed to go to battle.

'I see your summoning spells haven't managed to bring Cuchullain to us, sons of Calatín,' said Lugaid. 'The men have come from Dún Cermnai and Belach Con Glais and Temair Luachra andCommar na Trí nUisce, only to wait here at Béoil Menbolg. Your summoning spells are useless - they're taking far too long to draw Cuchullain out.'

'We'll make him come tomorrow.'

The next day the sons of Calatín made it appear that Emain Macha was surrounded by armies, with a cloud of smoke from the fire and devastation over the plain of Macha. It seemed that Emain would fall to the armies, and the weapons fell from their racks. The news was brought to Cuchullain.

Leborcham said, 'Arise, Cuchullain, and turn your skills and feats to defend Muirthemne Plain from the men of Leinster. We beat our hands over the destruction of our lands. Cormac can't help us. Conchobor's mighty household is far off. Conall Cernach is not nearby. Lugaid, the son of a man you killed, will carry out his vengeance, unless you arm yourself and rise to attack!'

'Stop it, girl,' said Cuchullain. 'No matter how dangerous the enemy, I can't defend Conchobor's kingdom alone. It's not wise for me to fight while Ulster is in its pangs. I'm no eager chariot chief, hungry for battle, today.'

Níab, Celtchar's daughter and Conall Cernach's wife, was the next to speak. 'That's all very well for you,' she said. 'Conall, Amergin's mighty son, would mount his chariot, and stand in muddy fords, striking and beheading the enemies of Ulster.'

'Woman,' said Cuchullain, 'I may be doomed, but I will not violate my honour. I have not yet met my match, or lost my prowess. I will not avoid my death.'

Cuchullain leapt for his weapons. He wrapped his cloak around him, but that first cloak tore, and the brooch fell from his hand. 'This cloak is not my enemy,' said Cuchullain. 'Nor is the brooch that pierces my foot. It's giving me a warning. Shields will be shattered, blades broken before my right fist. I will shed proud blood. My contempt will wound the choicest men, south of Muirthemne where women wail.'

He wrapped his cloak around him, and took up his shield with the notched edge. 'Friend Láeg,' he called to his charioteer, 'yoke the chariot for us!'

'I swear by the god my tribe swears by,' said Láeg, 'if the whole of Conchobor's province were surrounding Liath Macha, they couldn't drag him to the chariot. He has never refused you before. That spirit which has always delighted me has deserted him. If you wish, come and call Liath youself.'

So Cuchullain went to him, but three times the horse turned his left flank to him.

'Liath, you beauty, never before have you turned your left side to me in anger. Remember how we drove off horses and armies, smashing chariot-frames, yokes and cushions until your reins were red. But we were safe, and the Badb could never touch us. Our determination never faltered in the face of death.'

At that, Liath Macha came to Cuchullain, letting great round tears of blood fall at his feet.

Cuchullain leapt into the chariot, and raced off southwards along the road to Midluachair. He saw a girl before him. She was Leborcham, daughter of Áe and Adarc, two slaves from Conchobor's household.

'Don't leave us, Cuchullain,' she said. 'Your worthy face, your generous, glowing cheek, your fine scars - your doom will bring us great sorrow. Woe to our women and children! Woe to our hopes! If you continue on this course, to the battle where great men will die, there will be great wailing and keening on Muirthemne Plain.'

She said this in a loud voice, and she was echoed by the three fifties of women in Emain Macha.

'It would be better not to leave them,' said Láeg, 'for you have never violated the command of your mother's line before today.'

'Alas,' said Cuchullain. 'Stick to your own business, Láeg. It's a charioteer's job to take care of a chariot, but it's a chariot-chief's job to defend a territory. A supporter advises, a man does manly deeds, a woman weeps. Take me to the battle, and save your pity. It does you no credit.'

The chariot was turned to the left, and the troop of women gave a cry of lamentation and beat their hands, for they knew Cuchullain would not return to Emain Macha.

Before him on the road was the house of the foster-mother who had raised him. Cuchullain would always pay her a visit whenever he went by southwards or northwards, and she would always have a drink for him. He drank it, said farewell to his foster-mother, and carried on along the Midluachair road, across the Plain of Mugain.

Before him he saw three sorcerous hags, all blind in the left eye. They had cooked a lap-dog with charms and spells on spits of holly. It was geis for Cuchullain to pass a hearth and refuse an invitation to eat there, but it was also geis for him to eat the flesh of his namesake. He hurried past them, because he knew they were not there for his good.

'Come and visit us, Cuchullain,' said one of them.

'I will not,' said Cuchullain.

'Because all we have to eat is a dog?' she replied. 'If we had a great roast, you'd visit us, but since we don't have much, you refuse. Anyone who won't endure humble things does not deserve great things.'

So he visited them, and the hag served him half the dog from her left hand. Cuchullain took it from her and put it under his left thigh. The hand he took it with and the thigh he put it under were seized from end to end, and all the strength went out of them.

They continued southwards along the Midluachair road, around Sliab Fuait. Cuchullain said, 'tell me what you can see, friend Láeg.'

'Many doomed men, and great carnage,' said Láeg.

'Woe, alas!' said Cuchullain.

As Cuchullain continued along the Midluachair road, he saw the army encamped on Muirthemne Plain. They saw him too.

Erc son of Coirpre said, 'I see a fair chariot approaching, drawn by two horses. One, lynx-grey, the other, jet black with a white face. In the chariot is a man with fair, flowing, curly hair, a fiery, red weapon in his hand. His hair is of three colours - dark at the scalp, blood-red in the middle, and a golden corona on the outside. The dullest part of that warrior's hair is like the sun shining on buttercups on a summery day in mid-May.'

'The man who approaches is the man you're waiting for, men of Ireland.'

A mound of cut turf was raised under Erc son of Coirpre, and a hedge of shields built around him. The men of Ireland were drawn up into three equally fine, fierce batallions.

'Arise, men of Ireland, prepare for that man, Cuchullain,' said Erc.

'What preparations shall we make?' they said. 'How can we match his feats?'

'Not hard to tell,' said Erc. 'Here is my plan. Let the four provinces of Ireland come together in a single army, and make an unbroken barrier of shields around you and above you. Station three men on each hill around the army - two of the strongest men, who will trade blows with each other, and a satirist with his hazel rod, to make a disgracing demand for Cuchullain's spear, which is named Blad ar Bladaib, triumph of triumphs. It is prophesied that a king will be slain by his spear, unless it is demanded of him. And give a wail of lamentation and a cry of distress, for then his fury won't come upon him, or upon his horses, and he won't demand single combat with you like he did on the Cattle Raid of Cooley.'

Everything was done as Erc said.

Then Cuchullain came upon the army, and he performed three thunder-feats standing on his chariot: the thunder-feat of a hundred, and the thunder-feat of three hundred, and the thunder-feat of three nines, to clear the army from Muirthemne Plain. He attacked the army, using all his skill in arms against them. He plied his sword and shield and spear and feats equally, so that as many as the sand of the sea, the stars of heaven, the dewdrops of May, snowflakes and hailstones, the leaves on the trees, buttercups on Breg Plain, and the blades of grass under horses hooves on a summer day were the number of split skulls and severed hands and red bones scattered across the plain of Muirthemne. The ground was grey with their brains after Cuchullain's devastating attack on them.

Then he saw two men having a fight. He made no attempt to separate them.

'Shame on you Cuchullain, for not stopping them,' said the satirist.

So Cuchullain leapt at them, and gave them both such a punch in the head that their brains came out their ears and noses.

'Well, you've certainly stopped them now,' said the satirist. 'Neither is harming the other.'

'They wouldn't have stopped if I'd just asked them,' said Cuchullain.

'Give me that spear,' said the satirist.

'I swear by the oath of my people,' said Cuchullain, 'my need of it is greater than yours. The men of Ireland are attacking me here, and I need it to attack them.'

'I will satirise you if you don't hand it over,' said the satirist.

'I have never been satirised for being stingy,' said Cuchullain. And with that he threw the spear at him, butt-end first, and it went straight through his head and killed nine men standing behind him.

Cuchullain went through the army to the far side. Meanwhile, Lugaid son of Cú Roí took one of the three spears prepared by the sons of Calatín.

'What will fall by this spear, sons of Calatín?' said Lugaid.

'A king will fall by that spear,' said the sons of Calatín.

Lugaid threw the spear at the chariot, and it hit Láeg mac Riangabra, spilling his innards over the upholstery of the chariot. 'Bitingly I have been wounded,' said Láeg.

Cuchullain drew out the spear, and bade farewell to Láeg. 'Today I must be both chariot-chief and charioteer,' he said.

When he reached the other side of the army, Cuchullain saw two men figting before him. A satirist, with his hazel rod, was with them.

'Shame on you for not separating us, Cuchullain,' said one of the men.

Cuchullain leapt down towards them, threw them aside, and dashed them to pieces against a nearby rock.

'Give me that spear, Cuchullain,' said the satirist.

'I swear by the oath of my people,' said Cuchullain, 'my need of it is greater than yours. It's down to my hand and my valour and my weapons to clear four of the five provinces of Ireland from Muirthemne Plain.'

'I will satirise you,' said the satirist.

'I only have to yield to one demand in a day, and I have already paid for my honour today.'

'Then I will satirise the Ulstermen on your account,' said the satirist.

'The Ulstermen have never been satirised on account of my stinginess,' said Cuchullain. 'However little of my life remains, they will not by satirised on my account today.' He gave the satirist the spear butt-end first, so that it went straight through his head and killed nine men standing behind him. Then he went through the army as before.

Erc son of Coirpre took one of the spears prepared by the sons of Calatín. 'What will fall by this spear, sons of Calatín?' he said.

'Not hard to tell,' said the sons of Calatín. 'A king will fall by that spear.'

'That's what you said about the spear that Lugaid just threw,' said Erc.

'And it was true,' said the sons of Calatín. 'The king of the charioteers of Ireland fell by it - Cuchullain's charioteer, Láeg mac Riangabra.'

'I swear by the oath of my people, I wont kill the same kind of king Lugaid killed,' said Erc. He let fly his spear at Cuchullain, and hit Liath Macha.

Cuchullain drew the spear out, and bade his horse farewell. Liath Macha went off, with half the yoke around his neck, to Linn Leith, the grey's pool, in Sliab Fuait. Out of this pool he had come to Cuchullain, and to it he returned when he was wounded. 'My chariot must be yoked to a single horse today,' said Cuchullain. He put his foot under one end of the yoke, and made his way through the army as before.

He saw two men fighting in front of him, and a satirist with a hazel rod. He separated them on no less effective manner than he did the previous four.

'Give me that spear, Cuchullain,' said the satirist.

'My need of it is greater than yours.'

'I will satirise you,' said the satirist.

'I only have to yield to one demand in a day, and I have already paid for my honour today.'

'Then I will satirise the Ulstermen on your account,' said the satirist.

'I have paid for their honour too.'

'Then I will satirise your family.'

'However little of my life remains, no land I haven't seen will hear shameful stories about me,' said Cuchullain. He threw the spear at the satirist butt-end first, so that it went straight through his head and killed three times nine men standing behind him.

'That is an angry gift, Cuchullain,' said the satirist.

After that, Cuchullain went through the army to the other side, and Lugaid took the third spear prepared by the sons of Calatín.

'What will fall by this spear, sons of Calatín?' he said.

'A king will fall by it,' said the sons of Calatín.

'That's what you said about the spear that Erc just threw,' said Lugaid.

'And it was true,' said the sons of Calatín. 'The king of the horses of Ireland fell by it - Liath Macha, Cuchullain's horse.'

'I swear by the oath of my people, I wont kill the same kind of king Erc killed,' said Lugaid. He threw the spear at Cuchullain, and hit him, spilling his innards over the chariot's upholstery. Then Dub Sainglenn, his other horse, left him, taking half the yoke with him. He went to Loch Dub, the black lake, in the district of Muscraige. Out of this lake he had come to Cuchullain, and to it he now returned, making the lake boil.

The chariot sat alone on the plain.

'Let me go down to that lake over there,' said Cuchullain, 'so I can have a drink from it.'

'You have our leave, they replied, 'so long as you come back to us.'

'If I can't make it back by myself, be sure to come and get me,' said Cuchullain.

Cuchullain gathered his innards up in his arms and went off to the lake. When he got there he put his arms tightly round his belly to hold his innards in, and took a drink and washed himself. That lake on Muirthemne Plain was named Loch Lámraith, hand-boon lake, because of that. Then he sprang away, and called out for them to come for him.

A wide plain spread west of the lake. Cuchullain cast his eye over it, and headed for a standing stone in the middle of the plain. He put his belt around it, so that he wouldn't die sitting or lying down - he would die standing. The men surrounded him, but didn't dare approach, thinking he was still alive.

'Shame on you,' said Erc son of Coirpre to the men, 'for not taking that man's head in vengeance for my own father's head, which was carried off by Cuchullain and buried with the body of Eochaid Nia Fer, whose head was struck from his body and taken to Síd ar Nenta across the water.'

Then Liath Macha returned to guard Cuchullain while his spirit was still in his body and his hero's light still shone from his brow. Liath Macha made three red charges around him, and fifty men fell by his teeth and thirty by each of his hooves. He killed so many that "Liath Macha's victorious onslaughts when Cuchullain was slain" are proverbial.

A raven alit on Cuchullain's shoulder. 'That stone isn't usually a perch for birds,' said Erc son of Coirpre. So Lugaid gathered Cuchullain's hair up behind his head, and struck his head off. Cuchullain's sword fell from his hand and cut Lugaid's hand off, and Cuchullain's hand was cut off in revenge.

The army set off for Tara, taking Cuchullain's head and right hand with them. That's where his head and hand are buried, together with the gold panelling of his shield.

They marched on southwards until they came to the river Liffey. There, Lugaid said to his charioteer, 'My full belt weighs heavy on me. I want to bathe.' So he set off apart from the army, who carried on the way they were going. Lugaid caught a fish between his calves as he washed himself. He tossed it up to his charioteer, who at once kindled a fire to cook it.

It was then that the army of Ulster, having recovered from their pangs, came southwards from Emain Macha to Sliab Fuait.

Cuchullain and Conall Cernach, in their rivalry and mutual boasting, had made a deal, that whichever of them was killed first would be avenged by the other. 'If I am killed first,' Cuchullain had said, 'how fast will you avenge me?'

'I will avenge you before sunset on the day you are killed,' said Conall. 'If I am killed first, how fast will you avenge me?'

'I will not let your blood grow cold on the ground before I avenge you,' said Cuchullain.

As Conall approached in his chariot in the front of the army, he came upon Liath Macha, bloody and wounded, on his way to Linn Leith. He followed Liath Macha on a circuit of the battlefield, and saw Cuchullain at the stone. Liath Macha went up to Cuchullain's body and put his head upon his breast.

'Liath Macha grieves for that corpse,' said Conall. He kicked the hedge of shields that Lugaid had set up, and said, 'I swear by the oath of my people, this is a great man's hedge!'

'You have named the place,' said a druid. 'It will be called Airrbe Rofir, Great Man's Hedge, forever.'

Then Conall set off in pursuit of the army.

Lugaid was bathing, and said to his charioteer, 'Watch the plain for us, so no-one can come upon us unseen.'

The charioteer kept watch. 'There is a lone rider approaching,' he said. 'He rides so fast, you would think that the ravens of Ireland were above him, and that snowflakes covered the plain before him.'

'The rider approaching is no friend of ours,' said Lugaid. 'That is Conall Cernach on Derg Drúchtach. The birds you saw are the clods that fly up from Derg Drúchtach's hooves, and the snowflakes are the foam from his mouth and bridle. Keep watching, and see which way he comes.'

'He's going towards the ford, the same way the army went,' said the charioteer.

'Let him go,' said Lugaid. 'The last thing we need's a fight with him.'

When Conall Cernach came to the middle of the ford, he looked around. 'There's steam from a salmon over there,' he said. He looked around again. 'There's steam from a charioteer over there,' he said. He looked a third time. 'There's steam from a king over there,' he said. 'I'd better go and have a look.'

Conall went up to Lugaid. 'Welcome is the face of a debtor,' he said. 'The one you owe the debt to demands payment. You owe me a debt for killing my comrade Cuchullain, and I'm calling it in.'

'It would not be right to fight me here,' said Lugaid. 'It would give you greater honour if you were to fight me once I had reached Munster with the spoils of my victory.'

'I'll go along with that,' said Conall, 'so long as we don't travel there together or speak to each other as equals.'

'That won't be difficult to arrange,' said Lugaid. 'I will go this way, along the Gabrán road, past Smechun Gap. You go that way, across Gabor and over Sliab Mairgen in Leinster, and we'll meet in Airgetros Plain.'

Lugaid got there first. Then Conall Cernach arrived, and threw a javelin at him. It hit him in the foot as he stood against a standing stone on Airgetros Plain, and that stone was named Coirthe Lugdach, Lugaid's Pillar, from then on.

After this first wound Lugaid went to Ferta Lugdach, Lugaid's Mound, among the causeways of Ossairge. There he and Conall met.

'I demand fair play from you,' said Lugaid.

'In what way?' said Conall.

'Since I only have one hand, you should fight me with one hand.'

'I'll go along with that,' said Conall, and one hand was tied to his side with cords.

They fought for three hours that day, and neither could get the better of the other. When Conall couldn't get the upper hand, he looked up at his mare, Derg Drúchtach. She had a head like a dog, and she used to kill men in battles and combats. The mare attacked Lugaid. She took a bite from his side, tore out his innards and spilled them at his feet.

'Alas!' said Lugaid. 'That's hardly fair play!'

'I only promised on my own behalf,' said Conall. 'I made no guarantees for dumb animals.'

'I know you won't leave without my head,' said Lugaid, 'since we took Cuchullain's head. Put my head on your head, and add my nobility to your nobility, and my weapons to your weapons. I would prefer it if you were the chief warrior of Ireland.'

Then Conall took Lugaid's head. He set off with it, and met the Ulstermen in Roiriu in the land of Leinster. They left the head on a stone there, and forgot about it.

When they reached Gris, Conall asked, 'Which one of you brought the head?'

'We don't have it,' they all said.

'I swear by the oath of my people,' said Conall, 'this deed is half a crime.' That place was called Midbine, Half-Crime, in Roiriu after that. When they went back for the head, this is what they saw - the head had melted the stone and sunk right through it.

The Ulstermen didn't let anyone bring victory spoils to Emain Macha that week. Cuchullain's spirit appeared to the fifty queens he had dishonoured when he went to battle. They saw him in his ghostly chariot above Emain Macha.

Liath Macha went to bid farewell to Emer. He put his head on her breast, and circled sunwise around her three times, and around Dún Imrith, and Dún Delga.