“I give you sound advice,” said Fergus, “and best it were for you to heed my words. Turn round your chariot, and go home again.”
“Why so?” Etarcomal asked. “Because I know full well that if you, with your light-minded insolence, come into contact with this great Hound of War, in all his fierceness and his terrible strength, trouble will befall. You will provoke him with your childishness, and ill will come, before I can prevent it. Go home again, I will not have you come.” “If we fell out, could you not rescue me?” Etarcomal said. “No doubt I should endeavour to succour you; but if you seek a quarrel, or with your foolish words provoke Cuchulain, I make no promises; you must defend yourself, and take your chance.”
“Truly I seek no quarrel with this valiant mighty chief; I will but look upon his powerful form and note his face, and then return with you.” “So be it, then,” said Fergus, “let us on.”
Afar off, Laeg espied them as they came. He and his master sat beneath the trees close on the borders of a little wood, playing a game of chess; but none the less he kept a sharp lookout, watching where lay the distant camp of Meave. A single chariot approaches from the camp, and furiously it drives across the plain: “I think he comes to seek us, Cucuc,” said the man. “What sort is the rider in that chariot?” questioned Cu. “I know him well, and short the time since he was here before. Like to the side of a massive mountain, standing sheer from out the plain, the chariot in which that warrior rides. Mighty as the leafy branching crown of a kingly tree which grows before a chieftain’s door, the bushy, loose, dark-ruddy locks upon that warrior’s head. Around him is a mantle of a noble purple hue, with fringes of bright gold, clasped with a pin of gleaming gold and set with sparkling stones. In his left hand he bears his bossy shield and in his right a polished spear, with rings of metal bound from point to haft. Upon his thigh a sword so long and great, I took it for the rudder of a boat, or for a rainbow arched across the skies. Far-travelled and a man of might, meseems, the guest who cometh here.” “Welcome to me the coming of this hero and old friend,” Cuchulain cried, “my master Fergus, who approaches us.”
“I see behind a second smaller chariot, which seems to accompany the massive chariot of Fergus. Spritely and full of life are the two prancing chariot-steeds, and young and bright the man who sits within.”
“’Tis likely that some one of Erin’s youthful chiefs has ventured out to have a look at me, under the guardianship of Fergus. I hear they all are talking of me in the camp. Perhaps he wants to have a bout with me, good Laeg, but better were it that he stayed at home.”
Up dashed the steeds of Fergus’ chariot, and in an instant he had sprung to earth and stood beside Cuchulain. “Welcome, O Fergus, old familiar friend. Welcome, my foster-master and my guardian,” Cuchulain cried, and warmly he embraced him. “Upon this lonely watch that I am forced to keep all solitary and unaided day by day against the men of Erin, most welcome the dear face of an old friend.”
“Then thou art glad indeed?” Fergus exclaimed, surprised.
“Certainly and indeed, I am right glad! Not much have I to offer in this wild desert place, but all I have is fully at your service. When o’er the plain a flock of wild-duck wings its way, one of them you shall have, with, in good times, the full half of another; if fish come up the estuary, a whole one shall be yours, with all that appertains to it; a handful of fresh cress straight from the brook, a spray of marshwort or of green sorrel shall be yours; ’tis all I have to give. When you are thirsty, from the running stream that trickles through the sand, you’ll get a drink; and if, some fall of day, a hero calls you to come down and wage a single combat at the ford, you shall take rest and sleep, while I will fight your enemy or keep watch.”
“Truly I well believe it,” Fergus said. “Too well I know what straits for food and drink have fallen on thee in this raid, and well I know thy hospitable mind. But at this time we seek not food and drink, nor can we stay for combats or for rest; I come at Ailill’s and at Meave’s command, to tell thee what we think are thy conditions, and that we will hold and keep to them.”