It was a fair voyage, and soon the black barge of Fergus sailed past the isles and headlands of Alba, and came to Loch Etive and the Bay of Selma, where the great fort of Dun Usneachain lay black against the ivy-clad heights beyond.
This was in the first heats of summer, and Nathos and Darthool, with Ailne and Ardan, had left the fort and were among the rocky declivities of the woodland near the sea. There they had three hunting booths: one for Nathos and Darthool, one for Ailne and Ardan, and one wherein to have their eating and drinking. In front of one of these booths Nathos and Darthool sat, on that day of the days, playing on the Cemrcaem (the chessboard), the very chessboard which had belonged to Concobar, but which the king had left in the dun of Ailne and Ardan when hunting near by, on the day before that on which they fled with Nathos. It was all of ivory, and the chessmen were of wrought gold and in the likeness of strange kings and priests and fantastic animals wrought in immemorial years in the Orient.
And while they were playing a great shout was heard, coming upon them from a branch-hid hollow of the sea.
“That is the voice of a man of Erin,” said Nathos, holding in the air a golden knight.
“Not so,” answered Darthool; “it is the voice of a Gael of Alba.” Yet well she knew that Nathos had guessed aright, and that even now were the footsteps of fate drawing close. For none can prevail against destiny.
Once more a loud cry was heard, and a voice called upon Nathos and the sons of Usna.
“Of a surety, that is the voice of a man of Erin,” said Nathos eagerly, for his heart was fain to see an Ultonian again, and to hear of the Red Branch and of the fate of Uladh, and as to whether Concobar reigned still.
“Indeed, it is not so,” answered Darthool, and turning the great glory and beauty of her eyes upon Nathos she bade him play on. Then a third cry, nearer and clearer, was heard; and now all knew that it was the voice of a man of Erin.
“And if there be no cloud upon me,” said Nathos, “that is the voice of no other than Fergus, the son of Rossa the Red, whom I knew well of old, and for whom my heart is fain. Ardan, do ye go down at once to the haven, and bid Fergus welcome, and all who may be with him. It is a good day this for us, when once more we may hear the voices of the Red Branch.”
While Ardan went to the haven, Darthool told Nathos she had known from the first that the newcomer was a man out of Erin, and moreover, that he came from Concobar, and that his coming boded no good.