“Swift are the wolves that have hunted thee, my son,” said his father.
“'Tis this that has wounded us, old hero, an evil conflict with warriors,” Conall replied.
“Is thy lord alive?” asked Amorgin.
“He is not alive,” says Conall.
“I swear to God what the great tribes of Ulster swear: he is a coward who goes out of a fight alive having left his lord with his foes in death.”
“My wounds are not white, old hero,” says Conall. He showed him his shield-arm, whereon were thrice fifty spear-wounds. The sword-arm, which the shield had not guarded, was mangled and maimed and wounded and pierced, save that the sinews kept it to the body without separation.
“That arm fought to-night, my son,” says Amorgin.
“True is that, old hero,” says Conall of the Victories. “Many are they to whom it gave drinks of death to-night in front of the Hostel.”
So ends the story of Etain, and of the overthrow of Fairyland and the fairy vengeance wrought on the great-grandson of Eochy the High King.