he fear tonight. A warrior in weaponry, a hospitaller in husbandry. Of the men about him, three are named Dúngus, three Dáelgus and three Dángus, and they are the nine companions of Cormac Cond Longes. Never have they slain men at a disadvantage, and never have they spared men at an advantage. Good the warrior in their midst, that is, Cormac. I swear by what my people swear by, nine tens will fall by Cormac at the first onslaught, and nine tens by his companions; and there will also fall a man for each weapon and a man for each man. Cormac will match the performance of any man at the entrance to the hostel; he will boast of victories over kings and royal heirs and plundering chieftains, and though his companions be wounded, he himself will escape.’
‘Woe to him who carries out this destruction,’ said Lomnae Drúth, ‘if only because of that one man, Cormac Cond Longes. I swear by what my people swear by, if I ruled the council, I would not attempt the destruction, if only because of that one man and because of his gentleness and excellence.’ ‘You do not rule it,’ said Ingcél. ‘Clouds of blood will come to you. Gér’s word will seize the two cheeks of Gabur; it will be brought against him by the oath of an angry Fer Rogain. Your voice has begun to break, Lomnae. They have known you to be an evil warrior. Clouds of blood… An easier death for a house full of hosts death byiron weapons… Neither old man nor storyteller will say that I retreated from this destruction; they will say that it was I who carried it out.’
‘Do not impugn our honour, Ingcél,’ said Gér and Gabur and Fer Rogain. ‘The destruction will be wrought, unless the earth breaks under us and swallows us.’ ‘Indeed, it is yours by right,’ said Lomnae Drúth son of Dond Désa. ‘You will suffer no loss – you will bear off the head of a king from another tribe, and you will cut off another head, and you and your two brothers, Éccell and Dartaid, will escape the destruction. It will be more difficult for me, however. Woe to me before everyone, woe to me after everyone. Afterwards, my head will be tossed about between the chariot shafts, where devilish enemies will meet; it will be thrown into the hostel thrice, and it will be thrown back out thrice. Woe to them that go, woe to them with whom they go, woe to them to whom they go. Doomed they that go, doomed they to whom they go.’
‘Nothing can touch me,’ said Ingcél, ‘not my mother, not my father, not my seven brothers, not the king of my country, whom I slew – there is nothing I will not endure from now on.’ ‘Though blood flow through you, the destruction will be wrought by you tonight,’ said Gér and Gabur and Fer Rogain. ‘Woe to him who delivers the hostel into the hands of its enemies,’ said Lomnae Drúth. ‘After that, what did you see?’
‘I saw an apartment with three men in it,’ said Ingcél, ‘three huge, brown men with brown hair equally long in front and at the back. They wore short black capes that reached to their elbows, and the capes all had long hoods. In their hands they held large, black swords and black shields and broad, dark, glittering spears; and each spear shaft was as thick as the lifting bar of a cauldron. Explain that, Fer Rogain.’
‘Difficult that to explain,’ said Fer Rogain. ‘I know no trio in Ériu like that, unless they are the three Cruithnig who forsook their country and came into Conare’s household: Dub Longes son of Trebúait and Trebúait grandson of Lonsce and Curnach grandson of Fíach. They are the three best warriors to have taken arms among the Cruithnig. Nine tens will fall by them at the first onslaught, and a man for each weapon, and a man for each man. They will match the performance of any trio in the hostel; they will boast of victories over kings and royal heirs and plundering chieftains, and, though wounded, they will escape afterwards. Woe to him who carries out this destruction, if only
‘Woe to him who carries out this destruction,’ said Lomnae Drúth, ‘if only because of that one man, Cormac Cond Longes. I swear by what my people swear by, if I ruled the council, I would not attempt the destruction, if only because of that one man and because of his gentleness and excellence.’ ‘You do not rule it,’ said Ingcél. ‘Clouds of blood will come to you. Gér’s word will seize the two cheeks of Gabur; it will be brought against him by the oath of an angry Fer Rogain. Your voice has begun to break, Lomnae. They have known you to be an evil warrior. Clouds of blood… An easier death for a house full of hosts death byiron weapons… Neither old man nor storyteller will say that I retreated from this destruction; they will say that it was I who carried it out.’
‘Do not impugn our honour, Ingcél,’ said Gér and Gabur and Fer Rogain. ‘The destruction will be wrought, unless the earth breaks under us and swallows us.’ ‘Indeed, it is yours by right,’ said Lomnae Drúth son of Dond Désa. ‘You will suffer no loss – you will bear off the head of a king from another tribe, and you will cut off another head, and you and your two brothers, Éccell and Dartaid, will escape the destruction. It will be more difficult for me, however. Woe to me before everyone, woe to me after everyone. Afterwards, my head will be tossed about between the chariot shafts, where devilish enemies will meet; it will be thrown into the hostel thrice, and it will be thrown back out thrice. Woe to them that go, woe to them with whom they go, woe to them to whom they go. Doomed they that go, doomed they to whom they go.’
‘Nothing can touch me,’ said Ingcél, ‘not my mother, not my father, not my seven brothers, not the king of my country, whom I slew – there is nothing I will not endure from now on.’ ‘Though blood flow through you, the destruction will be wrought by you tonight,’ said Gér and Gabur and Fer Rogain. ‘Woe to him who delivers the hostel into the hands of its enemies,’ said Lomnae Drúth. ‘After that, what did you see?’
‘I saw an apartment with three men in it,’ said Ingcél, ‘three huge, brown men with brown hair equally long in front and at the back. They wore short black capes that reached to their elbows, and the capes all had long hoods. In their hands they held large, black swords and black shields and broad, dark, glittering spears; and each spear shaft was as thick as the lifting bar of a cauldron. Explain that, Fer Rogain.’
‘Difficult that to explain,’ said Fer Rogain. ‘I know no trio in Ériu like that, unless they are the three Cruithnig who forsook their country and came into Conare’s household: Dub Longes son of Trebúait and Trebúait grandson of Lonsce and Curnach grandson of Fíach. They are the three best warriors to have taken arms among the Cruithnig. Nine tens will fall by them at the first onslaught, and a man for each weapon, and a man for each man. They will match the performance of any trio in the hostel; they will boast of victories over kings and royal heirs and plundering chieftains, and, though wounded, they will escape afterwards. Woe to him who carries out this destruction, if only
Similar Books
