The three best, fairest, and noblest of any name,
Are they all to be slain because of a woman’s fame?
Alas! it were better far there were dust upon my head,
And that I, and I only, bore the heavy crown of shame.
At that Nathos was silent awhile. He knew now that Darthool was right. He looked at his brothers: Ailne frowned against the floor, Ardan stared at the door, with a proud and perilous smile. He looked at Illann the Fair and at Buine the Fiery: Buine drank heavily from a horn of ale, with sidelong eyes, Illann muttered between his set teeth.
“This only I will say, Darthool,” Nathos uttered at last, “that it were better to die for thee, because of thy deathless beauty, than to live for aught else. As for what else may betide, what has to be will be.”
“I will go now,” said Lavarcam, “for Concobar awaits me. But, sons of Usna and sons of Fergus, see ye that the doors and windows be closed, and if Concobar come against ye treacherously may ye win victory, and that with life to ye all.”
With that Lavarcam left. Swiftly she sought Concobar, and told the king that it was for joy she knew now that the three heroes, the sons of Usna, had come back to Erin to dwell in fellowship with the Ardree and the Red Branch, but that it was for sorrow she had to tell that Darthool the Beautiful was no longer fair and comely in form and face, but had lost her exceeding loveliness, and was now no more than any other woman.
At first Concobar laughed at that; then as his jealousy waned he thought with sorrow of the loss of so great beauty; and then again his spirit was perturbed. So he sent yet another messenger on the same errand.
This was a man named Treandhorn. Before Concobar sent him to the house of the Red Branch he said: