So he went with the messengers, and when he came to the Queen’s tent, all who were in the tent, both great lords and nobles, rose up to receive Ferdia, and he was conducted with honour and reverence to the presence of the Queen. Then the Queen greeted him and rose up and placed him at her right hand, and spoke kindly to him. And a great feast was made, and that night Ferdia was entertained with right great dignity, and food and pleasant liquors were served out of the best, so that he became merry and disposed to do all that Meave demanded. Then, when he was forgetful of all but the company in which he was, Meave set before his mind the princely gifts that she would bestow upon him if he would free her from her enemy Cuchulain, the destroyer of her host. These were the great rewards she offered him; a noble chariot with steeds such as befitted a king, and a train of twelve men-at-arms, fully equipped, to accompany him, as princes and great chiefs are accompanied, wherever he moved. Moreover, she promised him lands broad and fertile on the plains of Connaught, free of tribute or rent for ever, and that he should be her own son-in-law and next the throne, for she said that she would give him her daughter Finnabar to wife. Now Finnabar sat next to Ferdia at his left hand, and she was fair to look upon, with ruddy cheeks and hair of gold, and the garments of a princess flowing round her; and Ferdia was dazzled with her beauty, and with the lavish offers made by Meave, until he was ready to promise anything in life she wished. And when, the banquet over, young Finnabar arose and filled a cup brim full with mead, and kissed the cup and handed it to him, he knew not what to say. For still the memory of his youth in Shadow-land, Cuchulain’s love to him and his love to Cuchulain came over him again, and more than half he loathed what he had done. So looking now behind and now before, and loitering in his mind, he said aloud, “Rather, O Meave, than do the thing you ask, and ply my warrior-hand upon my friend, I would pick out six champions of your host, the best and bravest among all your men, and fight with them. With each alone or all together willingly would I contend.”
Then from her queenly robe Meave plucked her brooch, more precious to her than any gift, for all the kings and queens of Connaught had worn that splendid brooch, the sign and symbol of their sovereignty; she stooped, and with her own royal hands, she placed the glittering jewelled pin in Ferdia’s mantle.
“See, warrior,” she said, “I have bestowed on you the princely dignity, so that you now will rank beside the King; and as for those six chosen champions you have named, I give them to you as your sureties that these our promises will be fulfilled; go now and fight Cuchulain.” At that Ferdia looked up, and caught the glance of Finnabar most sweetly smiling down into his face, and close beside her the queen bending over him, and Erin’s chiefs and warriors standing round; and all his mind was lifted up within his breast, and he forgot Cuchulain and their ancient love, and said: “Though in this fight I fall, O Queen, I go to meet the Hound.”
Fergus was standing at the king’s right hand, and when he overheard those words that Ferdia spoke, fear for his foster-son rose in his heart. For well he knew the might of Ferdia’s arms, and that he was of all the chiefs of Meave the bravest and the best, and well he knew that all the feats that Scáth had taught to Cuchulain, save only the “Gae Bolga” or Body Spear, she taught to Ferdia likewise. Ferdia besides was older than Cuchulain, and riper in experience of war, well-built and powerful. So when he heard those words, Fergus went out in haste, and though the night was late he sprang into his chariot, and set forth to find Cuchulain.
“I am rejoiced at thy coming, my good friend Fergus,” said Cuchulain, as the chariot drew up beside him; “too seldom is it that on this Raid of Cooley we twain meet face to face.”
“Gladly I accept thy welcome, O foster-son and pupil,” Fergus said. “I come to tell thee who it is that on the morrow has bound himself to meet thee at the ford, and urge thee to beware of him.”
“I am attentive,” Cuchulain answered. “Who is the man who comes?”
“’Tis thine own friend, thy comrade and fellow-pupil, the great and valiant champion of the west, Ferdia, son of Daman, called of all men the ‘Horn-Skin,’ so tough and strong for fight is he, so hard to pierce or wound with sword or spear. Beware of him, it may be even the Gae Bolga will not avail to harm the flesh of Ferdia.”
“Upon my word and truly,” cried Cuchulain, “this is ill news you bring; never should I have thought my friend would challenge me.”
“We thought as much,” Fergus replied; “we all avowed thou wouldst not relish the coming of Ferdia; for of all warriors that have hitherto come to the combat at the ford, he is most formidable and best prepared. Be wary, therefore, rest well this night, and try and prove thine arms; come to the combat fresh and amply armed.”