Then turning wrathfully to the Irla, he asked—
"Knowest thou to whom thou hast given the young warrior's head?"
And the Irla replied, "Hast thou not come from the Palace of the Island, and dost thou not belong to the host of the King of the World?"
"I am not one of his knights," answered Ficna; "and neither shalt thou be, after this hour!"
Whereupon they drew their swords, and fought where they stood; and the foreign Irla fell by the avenging sword of Ficna, the son of Finn. Ficna beheaded him and returned to the ford, bringing the head, and also the head of Innsa. And when he had come to the ford, he made a grave of green sods on the bank, in which he laid the body and the head of Innsa, sometimes grieving for the youth, and sometimes rejoicing that his death had been avenged.
Then he went on to the Palace of the Quicken Trees, bringing the Irla's head; and when he had come nigh the door, he called aloud to Finn, who, impatient and full of anxious thoughts, asked—
"Tell us, Ficna, who fought the battle at the ford, and how it has ended."
"Thine own foster son, Innsa, defended the ford against many foes, whose bodies now encumber the stream."
"And how is it now with my foster son?" asked Finn.
"He died where he fought," replied Ficna; "for at the end, when he was weary and sore wounded, the foreign Irla attacked him, and slew him."