He turned to Rough-Red Buinne and Iollann the Fair.
“Is not that so?”
“It is so,” said Buinne.
“The Council of All Ireland would not tolerate the breaking of this notable surety,” said Iollann. “It is known now through the whole country.”
“And what man would dare to break my guarantee?” Fergus inquired.
Naoise bit his lip.
“Let us go on,” said he.
He turned his level gaze on Fergus’ sons.
“You are our guarantors,” he said, “and we accept your protection.”
They returned to where the black-avised chieftain was waiting, and him Fergus stared and out-stared until he was reduced to a mass of unhappiness.