Conaire.

"Lo, many are my names besides."

"Which be they?" asks Conaire.

"Easy to say," quoth she. "Samon, Sinand, Seisclend, Sodb, Caill, Coll,
Dichoem, Dichiuil, Dithim, Dichuimne, Dichruidne, Dairne, Darine,
Deruaine, Egem, Agam, Ethamne, Gnim, Cluiche, Cethardam, Nith, Nemain,
Noennen, Badb, Blosc, B[l]oar, Huae, oe Aife la Sruth, Mache,
Mede, Mod."

On one foot, and holding up one hand, and breathing one breath she sang
all that to them from the door of the house.

"I swear by the gods whom I adore," says Conaire, "that I will call thee
by none of these names whether I shall be here a long or a short time."

"What dost thou desire?" says Conaire.

"That which thou, too, desirest," she answered.

"'Tis a tabu of mine," says Conaire, "to receive the company of one
woman after sunset."

"Though it be a tabu," she replied, "I will not go until my guesting
come at once this very night."

"Tell her," says Conaire, "that an ox and a bacon-pig shall be taken out
to her, and my leavings: provided that she stays tonight in some
other place."

"If in sooth," she says, "it has befallen the king not to have room in
his house for the meal and bed of a solitary woman, they will be gotten
apart from him from some one possessing generosity--if the hospitality
of the Prince in the Hostel has departed."

"Savage is the answer!" says Conaire. "Let her in, though it is a tabu
of mine."

Great loathing they felt after that from the woman's converse, and
ill-foreboding; but they knew not the cause thereof.

The reavers afterwards landed, and fared forth till they were at Lecca
cinn slebe. Ever open was the Hostel. Why it was called a _Bruden_ was
because it resembles the lips of a man blowing a fire.

Great was the fire which was kindled by Conaire every night, to wit, a
"Boar of the Wood." Seven outlets it had. When a log was cut out of its
side every flame that used to come forth at each outlet was as big as
the blaze of a burning oratory. There were seventeen of Conaire's
chariots at every door of the house, and by those that were looking from
the vessels that great light was clearly seen through the wheels of
the chariots.

"Canst thou say, O Fer rogain, what that great light yonder resembles?"

"I cannot liken it to aught," answers Fer rogain, "unless it be the fire
of a king. May God not bring that man there tonight! 'Tis a pity to
destroy him!"

"What then deemest thou," says Ingcel, "of that man's reig