The Essential Celtic Folklore Collection. Lady Gregory

had been entitled from them.

      In Conaire's reign there was perfect peace in Erin, save that in Thomond there was a joining of battle between the two Carbres. Two foster-brothers of his were they. And until Conaire came it was impossible to make peace between them. 'Twas a tabu of his to go to separate them before they had repaired to him. He went, however, although to do so was one of his tabus, and he made peace between them. He remained five nights with each of the two. That also was a tabu of his.

      After settling the two quarrels, he was travelling to Tara. This is the way they took to Tara, past Usnech of Meath; and they saw the raiding from east and west, and from south and north, and they saw the warbands and the hosts, and the men stark-naked; and the land of the southern O'Neills was a cloud of fire around him.

      "What is this?" asked Conaire. "Easy to say," his people answer. "Easy to know that the king's law has broken down therein, since the country has begun to burn."

      "Whither shall we betake ourselves?" says Conaire.

      "To the Northeast," says his people.

      So then they went righthandwise round Tara, and lefthandwise round Bregia, and the evil beasts of Cerna were hunted by him. But he saw it not till the chase had ended.

      They that made of the world that smoky mist of magic were elves, and they did so because Conaire's tabus had been violated.

      Great fear then fell on Conaire because they had no way to wend save upon the Road of Midluachair and the Road of Cuálu.

      So they took their way by the coast of Ireland southward.

      Then said Conaire on the Road of Cuálu: "whither shall we go tonight?"

      "May I succeed in telling thee! my fosterling Conaire," says Mac cecht, son of Snade Teiched, the champion of Conaire, son of Eterscél. "Oftener have the men of Erin been contending for thee every night than thou hast been wandering about for a guesthouse."

      "Judgment goes with good times," says Conaire. "I had a friend in this country, if only we knew the way to his house!"

      "What is his name?" asked Mac cecht.

      "Dá Derga of Leinster," answered Conaire. "He came unto me to seek a gift from me, and he did not come with a refusal. I gave him a hundred kine of the drove. I gave him a hundred fatted swine. I gave him a hundred mantles made of close cloth. I gave him a hundred blue-coloured weapons of battle. I gave him ten red, gilded brooches. I gave him ten vats good and brown. I gave him ten thralls. I gave him ten querns. I gave him thrice nine hounds all-white in their silvern chains. I gave him a hundred race-horses in the herds of deer. There would be no abatement in his case though he should come again. He would make return. It is strange if he is surly to me tonight when reaching his abode."

      "When I was acquainted with his house," says Mac cecht, "the road whereon thou art going towards him was the boundary of his abode. It continues till it enters his house, for through the house passes the road. There are seven doorways into the house, and seven bedrooms between every two doorways; but there is only one doorvalve on it, and that valve is turned to every doorway to which the wind blows."

      "With all that thou hast here," says Conaire, "thou shalt go in thy great multitude until thou alight in the midst of the house."

      "If so be," answers Mac cecht, "that thou goest thither, I go on that I may strike fire there ahead of thee."

      When Conaire after this was journeying along the Road of Cuálu, he marked before him three horsemen riding towards the house. Three red frocks had they, and three red mantles: three red bucklers they bore, and three red spears were in their hands: three red steeds they bestrode, and three red heads of hair were on them. Red were they all, both body and hair and raiment, both steeds and men.

      "Who is it that fares before us?" asked Conaire. "It was a tabu of mine for those Three to go before me--the three Reds to the house of Red. Who will follow them and tell them to come towards me in my track?"

      "I will follow them," says Lé fri flaith, Conaire's son.

      He goes after them, lashing his horse, and overtook them not. There was the length of a spearcast between them: but they did not gain upon him and he did not gain upon them.

      He told them not to go before the king. He overtook them not; but one of the three men sang a lay to him over his shoulder:

      "Lo, my son, great the news, news from a hostel . . . Lo, my son!"

      They go away from him then: he could not detain them.

      The boy waited for the host. He told his father what was said to him. Conaire liked it not. "After them, thou!" says Conaire, "and offer them three oxen and three bacon-pigs, and so long as they shall be in my household, no one shall be among them from fire to wall."

      So the lad goes after them, and offers them that, and overtook them not. But one of the three men sang a lay to him over his shoulder:

      "Lo, my son, great the news! A generous king's great ardour whets thee, burns thee. Through ancient men's enchantments a company of nine yields. Lo, my son!"

      The boy turns back and repeated the lay to Conaire.

      "Go after them," says Conaire, "and offer them six oxen and six bacon pigs, and my leavings, and gifts tomorrow, and so long as they shall be in my household no one to be among them from fire to wall."

      The lad then went after them, and overtook them not; but one of the three men answered and said:

      "Lo, my son, great the news. Weary are the steeds we ride. We ride the steeds of Donn Tetscorach from the elfmounds. Though we are alive we are dead. Great are the signs: destruction of life: sating of ravens: feeding of crows, strife of slaughter: wetting of sword-edge, shields with broken bosses in hours after sundown. Lo, my son!"

      Then they go from him.

      "I see that thou hast not detained the men," says Conaire.

      "Indeed it is not I that betrayed it," says Lé fri flaith.

      He recited the last answer that they gave him. Conaire and his retainers were not blithe thereat: and afterwards evil forebodings of terror were on them.

      "All my tabus have seized me tonight," says Conaire, "since those Three Reds are the banished folks."[4]

      [4. They had been banished from the elfmounds, and for them to precede Conaire was to violate one of his taboos.--W.S.]

      They went forward to the house and took their seats therein, and fastened their red steeds to the door of the house.

      That is the Forefaring of the Three Reds in the Bruden Dá Derga.

      This is the way that Conaire took with his troops, to Dublin.

      CONAIRE AND HIS TROOPS TO DUBLIN

      'Tis then the man of the black, cropt hair, with his one hand and one eye and one foot, overtook them. Rough cropt hair upon him. Though a sackful of wild apples were flung on his crown, not an apple would fall on the ground, but each of them would stick on his hair. Though his snout were flung on a branch they would remain together. Long and thick as an outer yoke was each of his two shins. Each of his buttocks was the size of a cheese on a withe. A forked pole of iron black-pointed was in his hand. A swine, black-bristled, singed, was on his back, squealing continually, and a woman big-mouthed, huge, dark, sorry, hideous, was behind him. Though her snout were flung on a branch, the branch would support it. Her lower lip would reach her knee.

      He starts forward to meet Conaire, and made him welcome. "Welcome to thee, O master Conaire! Long hath thy coming hither been known."

      "Who gives the welcome?" asks Conaire.

      "Fer