The magician indeed had come.
“What has set you raging, Conachúr?” he asked.
“Father,” said Conachúr, “if you do not assist me I am lost.”
The old, old man looked at him.
“Tell me your tale, son. Whom have you locked up in fire?”
“The sons of Uisneac are there,” said Conachúr. “They will escape me,” he said.
“They are my grandchildren,” said Cathfa.
“It is the woman with them,—it is Deirdre I want. She was mine. She was stolen from me. I am not myself without her. I am a dead man while she is with Naoise.”
“What do you fear from boys roared round by flame?”