ack anger of
Concobar; what passionate fire had gleamed in his eyes as he tossed the
golden locks back from his shoulders and grasped the haft of his spear,
and pledged himself to be avenged on Naisi and all his kin, swearing
that he would have Deirdre back again.

Thus Fergus told the tale, laughingly, as at a danger that was past, a
storm-cloud that had lost its arrows of white hail and was no longer
fearful. For, he said, Concobar had forgotten his anger, had promised a
truce to the sons of Usnac, and most of all to Naisi, and had bidden
them return as his guests to Emain of Maca, where Deirdre should dwell
happy with her beloved. The comrades of Fergus by this time had tied
their boat and come up from the shore, and the sons of Usnac were ready
to depart. Yet Deirdre's heart misgave her as she thought of the days
among those purple hills and granite rocks, by the long green water of
the Loch, and her clear-seeing soul spoke words of doom for them all:
words soon to be fulfilled. Amongst the comrades of Fergus were certain
of the adherents of Concobar, treacherous as he; for he had no thought
of pardoning the sons of Usnac, nor any intent but to draw Deirdre back
within his reach; the image of her bright eyes and the redness of her
lips, and her soft breast and shining hair was ever before him, and his
heart gnawed within him for longing and the bitterness of desire.

Therefore he had designed this embassy; and Fergus, believing all things
and trusting all things, had gladly undertaken to be the messenger of
forgiveness; fated, instead, to be the instrument of betrayal. So they
turned their faces homewards towards Emain, Deirdre full of desponding,
as one whose day of grace is past. They set sail again through the long
Sound of Jura, with the islands now on their right hand and the gray
hills of Cantyre on their left. So they passed Jura, and later Islay,
and came at last under the cliffs of Rathlin and the white Antrim
headlands. Deirdre's heart never lightened, nor did laughter play about
her lips or in her eyes through all the time of her journey, but sadness
lay ever upon her, like the heavy darkness of a winter's night, when a
storm is gathering out of the West. But Fergus made merry, rejoicing at
the reconciling; bidden to a treacherous banquet by the partisans of
Concobar, his heart never misgave him, but giving the charge of Deirdre
and the sons of Usnac to his sons, he went to the banquet, delaying long
in