“Fight bravely, Naoise!” he said, and with that he sank on the floor, and he was dead.
Outside the Red Branch Conachúr ran hither and thither like a man enraged by madness.
CHAPTER XVII
“We are yet three,” said Naoise. “Draw the bolts, Ainnle, for one sortie of friendship. We have no doorman, for Deirdre could not close or open the door by herself. You and I, Ainnle. Be quiet, Ardan! Come, my brother, and put all your arm into the blade. We will come in by the door we go out of. This door! Be ready for our shout, Ardan!”
They went out and returned with red weapons, and for a long time they sat in the dim flare of a torch watching by their dead comrade.
“He was a brave boy,” said Deirdre.
“He did not obey my order,” her husband sighed. “I do not know what he did.”
“I smell—smoke,” said Ainnle suddenly.
“I have smelled something for a long time,” said Deirdre, “but I could not think what it was. I am weary because of the death of this good friend.”