«Give it the business!»
Belphebe reached behind her to unhook her brassiere. Cuchulainn staggered as though he had been struck. He threw one arm across his eyes, reached the table and brought his face down on it, pounding the wood with the other fist.
«Ara!» he shouted. «Take her away! Is it killing me you will be and in my own hall, and me your host that has saved your life?»
«Will you let her alone?» asked Shea.
«I will that for the night.»
«Mac Shea, take his offer,» advised Laeg from the head of the table. He looked rather greenish himself. «If his rage comes on him, none of us will be safe.»
«Okay. Honest,» said Shea and held Belphebe’s dress for her.
There was a universal sigh of relief from the background. Cuchulainn staggered to his feet. «It is not feeling well that I am, darlings,» he said and, picking up the golden ewer of wine, made for his room.
IV
There was a good deal of excited gabble among the retainers as Belphebe walked back to her place without looking to right or left, but they made room for Shea and Brodsky to join her. The druid looked shrewdly at the closed door and said, «If the Little Hound drinks too much by himself, he may be brooding on the wrong you are after doing him, and a sad day that would be. If he comes out with the hero-light playing round his head, run for your lives.»