The uproar without had been terrific, but now it redoubled, and at times a long scream topped the noise as spray tops a wave.
“We cannot see our brother,” said Deirdre nervously.
“We know his work,” Naoise replied. “He is as safe for five minutes as if he were in bed.”
“Your combat, Naoise!” she breathed.
“It will be the easiest of them all. There will be a rough companion with me. Run all to the other door,” he cried. “Iollann! Deirdre! Ardan! Your slings! The bolts, Buinne! Pull, my soul!”
Far out in the moonlight Ainnle was coursing like a deer. The moon flashed on his blade and on his shield. Men ran from him, and men ran to head him off, and into the middle of these he went diving like a fish. A band from the right came rushing for the open door.
“Out, Buinne, for ten seconds, and back when he is through.”
Naoise and Buinne leaped out with whirling weapons. There was a clatter of shields, a medley of shouts and curses, and in ten seconds they were in again and the door was closed.
“You opened a minute too early,” said Ainnle. “I was all right.”