“We come,” said the second lady, “upon another quest. With Labra, called the Swift, the Wielder of the Sword, dwells beauteous Fand, betrothed to old Manannan of the Waves. Above the splendour of all women of this earthly world shines out the noble loveliness of Fand, Manannan’s chosen wife. Like the pure crystal clearness of a tear is the fairness of her face, and for that reason is she named Fand, that is, ‘a tear.’ Now tales of thy renown have come to Fand, the praise of young Cuchulain, Champion of Murthemne’s plain, and sore she longeth with her own eyes to look on thee, and see thy warlike, comely form. Therefore we come, that if thou wilt, we may conduct thee to the Honey-plain, the Land of all Delights. We are the swans that swam upon the lake, and see, with thy rough spear, how thou hast torn and hurt my hand.”
“I am in no fit state to-day to contend with men or demon hosts,” Cuchulain said; “let Laeg go with you, and let him come again and tell me of your land. I am not strong or well to-day, and over and above all this, never would I, with any man or host do battle on the asking of a woman.”
“Come thou, then, Laeg,” she said; “I will take care of thee, and bring thee safely back. But it is woe and alas that thy master will not come.”
“Indeed,” said Laeg, “never in all my life until to-day have I been put under a woman’s guard. This kind of woman’s rule, I vow, pleaseth me not at all.”
“Nevertheless, O master Laeg,” she said, “it is only under my guidance that thou canst reach Moy Mell. Haste then, and come, for Labra waits for us.” Still Laeg protested, and would not have gone, but that Cuchulain urged him; and at the last forward they went, Laeg and the women, walking together a long while, till they perceived an island in the lake, and on the near side lay a skiff of bronze, burnished and very light, waiting, it seemed, to carry them across. It had no oar or sail or men to guide or ferry it along, but as they touched it with their feet, swiftly it moved outward from the bank, and with straight aim across the lake it bore them to the door of the palace that was in the island.
About the palace-gate they beheld a troop of warriors, coming out to meet them. “Where is Labra the Swift-handed?” demanded Liban. “He returns from gathering his troops and armies for the conflict on the morrow,” they replied; and even as they spoke, the rattle of a chariot was heard approaching. “He comes, make way,” they cried; “Labra Swift-handed, Wielder of the Sword, returns from the battle-field.”
Then drew near a dark, stern warrior, whose horses out-stripped the March wind in their swiftness. In his right hand he held his upright long-shafted spear, and at his side hung a terrible two-handled sword, double-bladed, strong. Rugged and full of care was that warrior’s face, and gloom sat on his brow. And Liban said, “The spirit of Labra is depressed to-day; I will go out and greet him.” She went forward to bid him welcome, and when he saw her, his face cleared, and he exclaimed, “Has the Hound of Ulster come?” “The Hound of Ulster cometh not to-day,” she said, “but Laeg is here, and surely he himself will come to-morrow. Fear nothing, Labra, Wielder of the massive sword, King of the Honey-plain, the hosts shall be hewn down before thee, and women shall weep their dead, when once Cuchulain comes.”
Then Labra called Laeg and said, “Welcome, O Laeg; for the sake of him from whom thou comest, for the sake of the lady with whom thou comest, thrice welcome to this land. But now return to thine own home, O Laeg, and set my message before thy master, before the Victorious Hound, and bid him come and help me, for the Plain of Honey is changed to a plain of slaughter and red war, and hosts are gathering to destroy us; seest thou yonder how they come?”
Then Laeg looked, and far off on the plain he saw armies coming up like hosts of demon men, obscure and silently; in bands and troops they ranged themselves across the plain. Afar and farther yet he saw them crowding on, while over them their dusky pennons flew, and their great spears pointed aloft. Yet though so great a host was assembling, never a sound was heard; but like an army of the dead they moved, noiseless and swift; only upon the air there came a sound, low and soft and still, like wailing of the wind in forest trees, and then Laeg knew that they were playing the Dord Fiansa upon the points of their great spears.