“It is a hard thing if I have to wait here till strings and cords are fastened together to raise me,” said he, and, making one bound from where he was lying on the flat of his back, he went up to her window; she snatched at him, and pulled him into the chamber.
There was a magic well in the castle; the Yellow King’s daughter bathed him in the water of it, and he was made whole and sound as before he went to battle. “Now,” said she, “you must fly with me from this castle.”
“I will not go while there is anything that may be cast on my honor in time to come,” answered Conal.
Next day he struck the pole of combat with double the force of the first time, so that the king got a staggering fit from the shock that it gave him.
The Yellow King had no forces now but the deaf, the blind, the cripples, the sensible women, the idiots, and the people of small account. So out went the king in his own person. He and young Conal made the hills, dales, and valleys tremble, and clear spring wells to rise out of hard, gravelly places. Thus they fought for three days and two nights. On the evening of the third day, the king asked Conal for a time to rest and take food and drink.
“I have never begun any work,” said Conal, “without finishing it. Fight to the end, then you can rest as long as you like.”
So they went at it again, and fought seven days and seven nights without food, drink, or rest, and each trying to get the advantage of the other. On the seventh evening, Conal swept the head off the king with one blow.
“’Tis your own skull that will be on the pole in place of mine, and I’ll have the daughter,” said Conal.
The Yellow King’s daughter came down and asked, “Will you go with me now, or will you take the kingdom?”
“I will go,” answered Conal.