“In truth I must leave one or the other,” said Fergus.
Naoise and his brothers stared at the fogged noble.
“Dear champion,” she pleaded, “it would be more fitting to leave the feast, but it would not be right to leave us in the middle of our enemies.”
“But I cannot leave a feast,” Fergus explained, “for that is my compact with the gods. One cannot break his geasa.”
They stared at him and at one another in consternation.
“Whatever is in his mind, this Borach will not release me from the eating of his accursed sharks,” Fergus continued wrathfully. “Eat them I must, but I shall leave my sons with you, and they will protect you on the road to Emain.”
“By my hand,” said Naoise, “you are doing a great deal for us! The protection we seek is that of your name and fame and station. Any other protection we do not value, for we are well used to taking care of ourselves.”
“But——” said Fergus.
“We did not come here under your weapons,” said Naoise, “we came under your guarantee.”
“You mistake me,” said Fergus mildly. “My sons carry my guarantee, and with them you will be as secure as though I were present.”