“Kindly hast thou spoken,” said the lad, “nor do I doubt that thou dost mean me well; yet, not to seek protection of Conall the Victorious, nor of Amergin your poet, nor even of the king himself, did I seek out this land; nor yet to hear myself dubbed, ‘an unripe beardless boy,’ did I come hither. If therefore thou wilt don thy arms, and come to meet me in single combat at the Bridge, thou there wilt get thy answer; though the might of a hundred were in thy arms, no tribute will I pay, unless in fair fight I first be overthrown.”
But when Condere saw the spirit of the lad, he grew afraid, for though he was an orator and spoke brave words, he had no mind to face the boy in fight. “Well, well, my boy,” thought he, “I will let some better warrior than myself go and speak with thee in words of war, since words of peace do not suffice thee.”
Then the King commanded that warriors of good renown should go down and speak to the boy in the battle-speech of arms and combat. And a goodly company of men went down to withstand the stranger. When the little lad saw that, the power of a full-grown fighting-man came upon him, and he donned his arms, and one after another as they came to the waterside, he fell upon them, and stretched them, dead or dying, on the beach.
“This must not be,” exclaimed the King, “fetch Conall Cernach here and let him make an end of this presumptuous youth.”
While they went for Conall Cernach, the little lad, instead of sitting down to rest, betook himself straight to his games again. One would have thought he had no other end in life but to perfect himself in games of skill, and that to bring a hundred foes into the agonies of death was but an interruption to his game. When Conall came above the cliff that over-looked the water’s edge, and saw the boy practising his feats, he stopped awhile and watched him; but when he saw his cleverness, and how the balls rose in the air upon his singing voice: “One only other than this boy,” he said, “can do a trick like that, even Cuchulain, Ulster’s Hound; and indeed, I know not whether he can do it quite so well.” And Conall was astonished, but he would not let the lad perceive his admiration or his fears.
“Thy play is pretty, my good boy,” said Conall, as he came down to meet him on the beach. “Dost thou find it so?” said the child; “then I play now against thee.” With that he put a stone, larger than all the others, in his sling, and shot it up into the air with the force of a great thunder-bolt and with the noise of thunder; and Conall was taken unawares and fell upon his back with the suddenness of the commotion, as though he had been dead. Before he could rise again, the boy had leapt ashore and with the strap of his shield he bound him where he lay, so that he could not move.
When the host of the Ulstermen saw Conall bound, a wail went up from them, for never since the day that Conall the Victorious first took arms had any man been able to overthrow him, though he had fought with the most famous warriors of the world. With one voice they cried, “Send for Cuchulain here, for the honour of Ulster is at stake before this child. Now that Conall lies bound in fetters, Cuchulain alone can retrieve our honour.” And the King said: “It is well; send now for Cuchulain.”
Cuchulain was in his own fort at Dundalgan when the messengers arrived. But he refused to go with them, saying, “Where Conall Cernach falls there is no hope for me; bravest and best of all the warriors of Ulster is Conall the Victorious, and skilled in every feat of championship. Who then is this stranger who has come, and what is his name and lineage? where has he learned arts to fright the men of Ulster?” For in his own mind Cuchulain thought, “There is but one who can have learned those feats which Scáth teaches only to her most valiant pupils; what if it be my son who comes?” So, on that account, he was unwilling to go with the men.
But the messengers urged him, saying, “The honour of Ulster is at stake; the king also commands thee and thy people wait for thee. Wilt thou that Ulster be put to shame before her foes?”
When Cuchulain heard that the honour of Ulster was at stake, he said, “Go on before me, I will but don my fighting-gear, and I will come.” For he thought on Conall Cernach lying bound upon the beach, and he remembered their old love and pledge of ancient friendship; for they had sworn in youth that if either of the twain were in any trouble or peril, the other should go forth to his aid, wherever he might be, and thinking on this, he put on his fighting array, and took his massive broad-sword in his hand, and the terrible spear, the Gae Bolga, which no man could withstand, and that moved like a living thing upon the water to find its enemy.