With his sword in his hand the King of Ireland’s Son chased the ravens. He followed them through the fourth courtyard, the third courtyard, the second and the first. They flew off the rock on which the Castle was built and disappeared in the mist.
He knew he would have to watch by the body of the King of the Land of Mist, so that the head might not be placed upon it. He sat down before the fifth gate. Pain and weariness, hunger and thirst oppressed him.
He longed for something that would allay his hunger and thirst. But he knew that he could not go to the river to get refreshment of water and cresses from the Glashan. Something fell beside him in the courtyard. It was a beautiful, bright-colored apple. He went to pick it up, but it rolled away towards the third courtyard. He followed it. Then, as he looked back he saw that the ravens had lighted near the body of the King of the Land of Mist, holding the head in their beaks and claws. He ran back and the ravens lifted the head up again and flew away.
He watched for another long time, and his hunger and his thirst made him long for the bright-colored apple he had seen.
Another apple fell down. He went to pick it up and it rolled away. But now the King of Ireland’s Son thought of nothing hut that bright-colored apple. He followed it as it rolled.
It roiled through the third courtyard, and the second and the first. It rolled out of the first gate and on to the rock upon which the Castle was built. It rolled off the rock. The King of Ireland’s Son sprang down and he saw the apple become a raven’s head and beak.
He climbed up the rock and ran back. And when he came into the first courtyard he saw that the three ravens had come back again. They had brought the head to the body, and body and head were now joined. The King of the Land of Mist stood up again, and his head was turned towards his left shoulder. He went to the sixth gate and took up a sword that was beside it.
IV
They fought their last battle before the sixth gate. The guard that the King of Ireland’s Son made was weak, and if the King of the Land of Mist could have turned fully upon him, he could have disarmed and killed him. But his head had been so placed upon his body that it looked The King of the Land of Mist 237 over his left shoulder. He was able to draw his sword down the breast of the King of Ireland’s Son, wounding him. The King’s Son whirled his sword around his head and flung it at his wry-headed enemy. It swept his head off, and the King of the Land of Mist fell down.
The King of Ireland’s Son saw on the outstretched neck the mark of the other beheading. He took up the Sword of Light again and prepared to hold the head against all that might come for it.