“I will tell you. But will you tell me? Every evening there are two carrying a dead man, and three go away alive in the morning.”
“I will tell you that, young queen, and welcome. When my father and mother were living my father was a king, and when he died, there came Fawgawns and Blue-men on us, and banished us out of two islands; and we are on the top of the third island with them, and as many of them as we kill are alive to fight us again in the morning; and every day they kill one of us, and we bring him to life again with the healing water.”
“With me is a champion, the best that ever struck blow with sword; and I promise you his help for a day if you bring him to life.”
The man went in, and brought the healing water, and rubbed it to the wound; and Kaytuch arose alive again; and he rubbed his eyes with his hands and said “Great was the sleep that was on me”; and she laughed and told him everything from the time the young king cut his head off. “I took you on board ship, and we were sailing for nine months before we came here; and I promised your help for a day to this man if he would bring you to life; but you will not go for a month until you grow strong.”
So he and she spent the night together—a third in talking, a third in story-telling, and a third in soft rest and deep slumber, till the whiteness of the day came upon the morrow.
Then he arose and washed his hands and face and ate his breakfast, and went out on the island and came to the house, and asked where they gave battle. Said they to him: “If you were a good champion you would have searched the place, and you would know in what place they give battle.”
That made him angry, and he went away and followed the little path that led from the house. He did not go far when he saw the blackness of the hill with people coming towards him. He ran through them as runs a hawk through flocks of wild birds, or a hound through flocks of sheep, till he made a heap of their heads, a heap of their feet, and a heap of their arms and clothes. They would be a prize for him if he thought them any good.
He stretched himself among the dead to see who else was coming. He was not long stretched before he saw an old man and an old woman coming, and a pot and a feather with them; and they threw a dash on the men on this side and that, and they (were) rising alive like midges. He told them to make no more alive till he killed those they had brought to life. He killed every one of them, and the old man and the old woman; and the old woman put him under bond to tell the hag of the church that he had killed the Hag of Slaughter and Slaughter himself. He went with himself along the road till he met with a tall, toothless, rusty hag. He asked her if she was the hag of the church; she said it was she. “I give you notice that I have killed the Hag of Slaughter and Slaughter himself.” She gave him a hundred welcomes, and she told him she had been three years in hell to learn druidism and devilscraft; for it was foretold her that he would come against them that way.
“Go home, and I forgive you.” He said he would not go. Said she to him, “Use your sword.” He drew a blow of the sword at her and struck her, and there was a dint in the sword that spoiled it for striking, and he put it up in the sheath.