The rage and agitation into which his suggestion had thrown the queen was so great that she fell ill, and could not accompany her husband to Leinster. So that, as on a previous occasion, he had to travel without her, the understanding being that she would take the road after him, and, travelling more lightly, could perhaps catch on his company before they reached Naas, the court and capital of the King of Leinster.
With his force, but unknown to it, there went a youth—a long-striding, active, bull-like young man with a freckled face and red hair, and than whom there was no more jovial person in all Ireland, for if a man was striking at him with a spear he could make that man laugh so much that he would not be able to hit straight. His name was mac Roth. He was Maeve’s personal servant, her herald. But just as the word “conversation-woman” cloaked another occupation for Lavarcham, so the word “herald” hid the same usefulness in mac Roth. He was Maeve’s personal spy, but he also was her herald, and in after days, because of his knowledge, address, and courage, he was to be the chief herald of all Ireland.
He accompanied Conachúr’s force, but he was not with it. He was a mile in advance, or a perch behind, or he was to the right of it just at a small distance, or he was looking from a hill on the left as the gay cavalcade and silver-shining chariots went by in the valley.
He accompanied them in that manner unseen for two days, and then, murmuring a blessing on them and on their encampment, he left them in the night, taking from them the loan of an unwatched horse, and he rode back by short cuts to Emain.
When he reached the palace he was able to report that the king had gone so far he could not easily turn back; and at that news Maeve’s illness departed from her as suddenly as it had come.
In the morning she called for twenty of the chief men of her bodyguard and gave them careful, separate instruction. Then she informed the domestics that her quarters must be thoroughly cleaned while the king was away, and that everything she owned must be put out on the sunny lawn for airing and counting.
The palace chamberlain came in great haste, but that suave man was soothed by Maeve and sent away with his dignity unhurt, but his mind exercised. He communicated his news to Lavarcham, who had retired to the company of her “babe” outside Emania. Within the hour Lavarcham despatched a flying messenger to Conachúr, but just outside the city mac Roth, who was waiting for him in a hedge, buzzed a spear through that man’s back as he went thundering past. But in the night Lavarcham, who left little to chance, sent other messengers, so that if some miscarried others would not.
But Maeve’s plan was at work, the men she had chosen for a particular part were acting in that part, and inside of ten hours her company was deployed behind her baggage, her march to Connacht had begun, and Conachúr was a bachelor again.
CHAPTER VII
It was as well that the king was in Leinster at the time of Maeve’s flight. Had he been nearer home he would have been obliged to do something, and, in such a situation, to do anything is to be ridiculous. He knew Maeve too well to imagine that she would return for a threat, yet he made the threats which seemed politic, for that was a matter of course.