Art obeyed the king. But Balor killed that horse as he had the other two, and came nearer killing Art; for he cut a piece of the saddle behind him, and Art came very near falling outside the wall; but he fell in, and escaped with his life.
“Well,” said King Under the Wave, on the fourth day, “no horse that ever lived could escape him the fourth time. Every vein in his body is wide open from thirst for blood; he would use every power that is in him before he would let you escape. But here is where your chance is. Balor has not slept for three nights; he will be sound asleep this time; the sword of light will be hanging above his head near his grasp. Do you slip into the room, and walk without noise; if you can touch the sword, you will have all Balor’s strength, and then he will give you the story.”
Art did as the king directed. He slipped into the room, saw the sword of light hanging just above Balor’s head. He went up without noise till he caught the hilt of the sword; and that moment it let out a screech that was heard throughout the dominions of King Under the Wave, and through all Erin.
Balor woke, and was very weak when he saw Art. The moment Art touched the hilt of the sword, he had all the strength that Balor had before. The screech that the sword gave put Balor in such fear that he fell to the floor, struck his face against the bed-post, and got a great lump on his forehead.
“Be quiet,” said Art; “the sword is mine, and now I want the story.”
“Who are you?” asked Balor, “and what land are you from? It seems that you are a friend of my father-in-law; for he is shielding and aiding you these four nights.”
“I am a friend of his, and also his son-in-law. I wish to be your friend as well.”
“What is your name?” asked Balor.
“Art, son of the King of Leinster, in Erin.”
“I would rather you had the sword than any other man save myself.”