“You think there is no one absent?” asked Conachúr.
“Not one,” they agreed.
“I am sharper than you all,” he continued, “for I can count three who are not here.”
Again they scrutinized the hall without finding any missing friends. They appealed to the herald who stood by Conachúr’s chair. He, too, was mystified.
“What three are they?” said Fiachra.
“The three sons of Uisneac,” the king replied smilingly. “The three Lights of Valour of the Gael.”
At the words a moment’s silence came on the dais and no person knew exactly what to say or do. Fergus turned his direct gaze on the king.
“They are in Scotland,” he said.
“They went there seven years ago when Naoise ran away with Deirdre,” said Conachúr.
Conall Cearnach turned his harsh forehead to the king: