And so it was. For death and the bitterness of the sword were ever in their way and in their wake. Nevertheless, they unceasingly rejoiced in their possession of the Sweeper of the Waves, and when their eric-quest took them into far eastern lands beyond the reach of great rivers, they hid their precious vessel, or bade it lie till it heard their summoning voice.

And so at the last it happened that the sons of Turenn won the three golden apples out of the guarded close in Isberna; and by craft and daring carried away from Sicily the famous chariot and two steeds which had no peer in all the world; and from Asol of the Golden Pillars, who gave them in ransom for his life, they took the seven deathless swine; and from its cauldron in the heart of a hostile city they snatched the terrible spear of Pisarr; and the far-famed skin of healing they brought away from the palace of Toosh, king of Greece, whose head they left idly rolling upon his marble floor; and in far Irrua they put captivity upon the terrible hound Falinnish; and in the wild seas of Fiancarya they dared the sea-women in their caverns under the waves, and took from them the roasting spit that Lu had demanded.

All this they did, and much else in the doing of these wonders. And now nothing remained but to shout three shouts upon the hill of Mekween; and to this end they sailed blithely and swiftly towards the far north of Lochlin.

But meanwhile, in far-away Erin, Lu Ildanna became aware, by his subtle magic and knowledge, that the sons of Turenn had one by one accomplished all but the last of the bitter tasks of the eric he had set upon them. He had not deemed this fulfilment possible, but while greatly he marvelled that courage and endurance could so bring impossible things to pass, he dreaded lest the sons of Turenn should prevail in the last task also. For if they came back to Erin with all that great eric fulfilled, then would there be a blood-shedding terrible indeed.

Moreover, Lu Ildanna, who saw far ahead of the things of the moment, was even now preparing for that second great battle upon the Plain of Moytura which he knew would come again; and a battle mightier and more desperate than the last, or than ever was seen in Erin before. Great warrior as he was, and lordly as was the war-host of the Dedannans, he feared this final battle unless he had at least half of the eric he had set upon the sons of Turenn—and, above all, the Spear of Pisarr, the Skin of Healing, and the War-chariot of the Sicilian king. Therefore he longed for the return of his foes, the sons of Turenn; yet feared that they should come back having accomplished all.

So on a day of the days he made a deep and potent spell, and sent this spell forth to work its noiseless and invisible way across land and sea and under the flaming sun and the white glister of the stars, till it should find the Sweeper of the Waves.

So forth that subtle spell went, and when it reached at last the Sweeper of the Waves it crawled stealthily into the great boat, and wound itself about the weary bodies of Brian and Ur and Urba, and moved into their brains, filled as they were with dreams of Erin and of home.

The spell was the spell of oblivion, but they knew it not.

And so it chanced that they could no longer understand why it was they sailed northward, nor had they any memory of the last obligation of the eric, and thought neither of Mekween and his sons, nor of the doom put upon them by Lu, nor of the vanity of all their long quest and brave endurance if they returned with the eric unfulfilled in the least part.

It was with joy that they set their prow for green Erin; and with joy that they saw again its green grassy hills above its white shores; and with joy that they recognised Ben Edar and Dun Turenn; and with joy that they kissed once more Turenn their father and Enya of the Dark Eyes, their sister, and knew themselves back at last from all their weary wandering and endless peril and strife.