“Now, dear heart, do you still claim tribute and lordship of Ireland?” said he.
“Let me go home,” groaned Cael, “I want to go home.”
“Swear by the sun and moon, if I let you go home, that you will send to Fionn, yearly and every year, the rent of the land of Thessaly.”
“I swear that,” said Cael, “and I would swear anything to get home.”
The Carl lifted him then and put him sitting into his ship. Then he raised his big boot and gave the boat a kick that drove it seven leagues out into the sea, and that was how the adventure of Cael of the Iron finished.
“Who are you, sir?” said Fionn to the Carl.
But before answering the Carl’s shape changed into one of splendour and delight.
“I am ruler of the Shi’ of Rath Cruachan,” he said.
Then Fionn mac Uail made a feast and a banquet for the jovial god, and with that the tale is ended of the King of Thessaly’s son and the Carl of the Drab Coat.