When they had finished their task the Fomorians rose and together approached the place where the king sat high among his people.
As they drew near, Nuadh of the Silver Hand and all his lords rose and made humble obeisance.
At this, Lu the Ildanna frowned, and when Lu of the Long Hand frowned his company knew that evil was like to come.
“Tell me, O King,” he said haughtily: “why do you make obeisance to these rude, ungainly folk, and did none to us when we approached, to us who are of the old Dedannan race?”
Thereupon Nuadh of the Silver Hand spake the bitterness of truth, and how it was that in order to save the land from devastation, and his people from rapine and outrage, he submitted to the Fomorian yoke. And for the same reason he had not ventured to pay homage to Lu and the Fairy Host, for the Fomorians would have taken this as an insult to Balor of the Evil Eye, and some great evil would have ensued.
Lu smiled scornfully.
“And at the worst, O Nuadh of the Silver Hand, there is a disastrous end and death. What then? Is not death the sure end of all men, and is not disaster the lot of many a hero as well as of many a slave?”
“That is so, Ildanna.”
“Then why evade that shadow, and all because of fear of these dark pirates out of the north. Is not honour better than safety, and is not shame a worse death than to be slain?”
“Even so, Ildanna. Nevertheless, I wish to avoid vain bloodshed. There can be but one end. Why should I ruin my people?”