“Now, Conn-eda, listen well and answer truly,” said the steed, “for on what happens next hangs both your fate and my own. So now tell me of a truth, have I served you well?”
“None could have served better,” replied the Prince.
“Have I saved your life, or have I risked it?”
“You have saved it, and except for you I would have lost it far back on the road.”
“And now the time has come to prove whether or no you are grateful. Put your hand in my ear and take out the dagger you will find there. Fear not and shrink not, but drive it into my heart, for thus and thus only can you reward me for what I have done for you.”
When the Prince heard these words from the steed, he was filled with horror. “Never, never will I do such a cruel and wicked thing,” he cried. “Rather would I drive the dagger into my own heart than into yours.”
“If you will not, you will not,” said the shaggy black horse, “but this I tell you plainly; except you do this thing, both you and I must perish.”
Well, the steed talked on and on, and at last Conn-eda consented to do as he was asked, though it seemed to him his hand must wither in the doing.
“That is well,” cried the steed, as soon as he had consented. “And now I will tell you what further you must do. As soon as you have driven the dagger into me, strip off my hide, and get into it yourself. You will then be free to go in and out of the castle as you please, though otherwise you would be slain by the people there the moment you entered. Go through the golden gateway in the center, and the first thing you will see is a leaping silver fountain. Fill the cup you found beneath the stone with this water and bring it back and sprinkle the water over me. Then all will be well. But oh, Conn-eda, haste in your going and coming, for as soon as you have left me, the birds of prey will gather about me, and if they tear me to pieces, there will be no further help for me.”
Conn-eda promised to do in all things as the steed bade him, and he then put his hand in its ear and found the dagger it had told him about. But he trembled so that he had scarce strength to even so much as point the dagger at the steed, let alone strike him. But this was all that was needed, for as soon as the dagger was turned toward him, it flew forward, carrying Conn-eda’s hand with it, and buried itself to the hilt in the steed’s heart, so that he fell dead.