“You may open the door now,” said he to the Enchanter. He opened the door and the King of Ireland’s Son drew Fedelma to him. “This is the maiden I choose,” said he, “and now give her her dowry.”
“The dowry that should go with me,” said Fedelma, “is the Slight Red Steed.” “What dowry do you want with her, young man?” said the Enchanter.
“No other dowry but the Slight Red Steed.”
“Go round to the stable then and get it. And I hope no well-trained wizard like you will come this way again.”
“No well-trained wizard am I, but the King of Ire-land’s Son. And I have found your dwelling-place within a year and a day. And now I pluck the three hairs out of your heard, Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands.”
The beard of the Enchanter bristled like spikes on a hedgehog, and the balls of his eyes stuck out of his head. The King’s Son plucked the three hairs of his beard before he could lift a hand or say a word. “Mount the Slight Red Steed and be off, the two of you,” said the Enchanter.
The King of Ireland’s Son and Fedelma mounted the Slight Red Steed and rode off, and the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands, and his two daughters, Aefa and Gilveen, in a rage watched them ride away.
IX
They crossed the River of the Ox, and went over the Mountain of the Fox and were in the Glen of the Badger before the sun rose. And there, at the foot of the Hill of Horns, they found an old man gathering dew from the grass.
“Could you tell us where we might find the Little Sage of the Mountain?” Fedelma asked the old man.