Cathbadh said, «In America there may be none to deal with such a matter, but inIreland there is a man both bold and clever enough to lift the spell.»
«Who’s he?» asked Shea.
«That will be Ollgaeth of Cruachan, at the Court of Ailill and Maev, who put the geas on Uath.»
Brodsky, from beside Shea spoke up. «He’s the guy that’s going to put one on Cuchulainn before the big mob takes him.»
«Wurra!» said Cathbadh to Shea. «Your slave must have a second mind to go with his second sight. The last time he spoke, it would only be a spell that Ollgaeth would be putting on the Little Hound.»
«Listen, punk,» said Brodsky in a tone of exasperation, «getthe stones out of your head. This is the pitch: this Maev and Ailill are mobbing up everybody that owes Cuchulainn here a score, and when they get them all together, they’re going to put a geas on him that will make him fight them all at once, and it’s too bad.»
Cathbadh combed his beard with his fingers. «If this be true.» he began.
«It’s the McCoy. Think I’m on the con?»
«I was going to say that if it be true, it is high tidings from a low source. Nor do I see precisely how it may be dealt with. If it were a matter of spells only.»
Cuchulainn said with mournful and slightly alcoholic gravity, «I would fight them all without the geas, but if I am fated to fall, then that is an end of me.»