“I refuse your challenge,” he said, with an attempt to cover his fear with haughtiness. “It would not be fitting that an army leader should meet his king in a single combat.”
“Then I can do no more,” declared Finn. “I must go back and leave the decision to the morrow.”
The High King laughed excitedly. “That you shall not do,” he said. “Our men have been awakened and are between you and your camp. Tonight they will settle your claims for leadership; tomorrow your men will fight without you.”
Finn looked at the forces, now awake and surrounding him. It was the basest kind of treachery. He turned to Gaul of Morna.
“Gaul, you took the vow to be honorable in your dealings. Are you willing that I shall face your army, when I came in peace as a messenger? Are you a party to this treachery?”
“I am not!” cried Gaul. “Never shall it be said that Gaul of Morna knew not how to treat a messenger of the foe. I shall conduct you through our forces, and woe to any man who raises a spear against you!”
“I thank you, Gaul,” said Finn.
Without even glancing at the High King, Finn followed Gaul out into the night. His guide escorted him to the edge of his own camp before turning to go back. Finn made a last appeal to him.
“It grieves me, Gaul, to see this battle take place. I know that the High King but uses you to cause the destruction of the Fenians. I pray you, give up the struggle and come back to us.”
Gaul was deeply moved. “I fear you are right,” he said. “But, right or wrong, I must go on. I have driven my game out into the open. I must capture it or lose the respect of my men.”