She was all that and more, and, as she took the horses through the river and lifted them up the bank, her flying hair and parted lips and all the young strength and grace of her body went into the king’s eye and could not easily come out again.
Nevertheless, it was upon his ward that the lady’s gaze rested, and if the king could scarcely look away from her, she could, but only with an equal effort, look away from Crimthann.
“Halt there!” cried the king.
“Who should I halt for?” the lady demanded, halting all the same, as is the manner of women, who rebel against command and yet receive it.
“Halt for Dermod!”
“There are Dermods and Dermods in this world,” she quoted.
“There is yet but one Ard-Ri’,” the monarch answered.
She then descended from the chariot and made her reverence.
“I wish to know your name?” said he.
But at this demand the lady frowned and answered decidedly: