In Conaire’s reign there was perfect peace in Erin, save that in Thomond there was a joining of battle between the two Carbres.  Two fosterbrothers of his were they.  And until Conaire came it was impossible to make peace between them.  ’Twas a tabu of his to go to separate them before they had repaired to him.  He went, however, although to do so was one of his tabus, and he made peace between them.  He remained five nights with each of the two.  That also was a tabu of his.

After settling the two quarrels, he was travelling to Tara.  This is the way they took to Tara, past Usnech of Meath; and they saw the raiding from east and west, and from south and north, and they saw the warbands and the hosts and the men stark-naked; and the land of the southern O’Neills was a cloud of fire around him.

“What is this?” asked Conaire.  “Easy to say,” his people answer.  “Easy to know that the king’s law has broken down therein, since the country has begun to burn.”

“Whither shall we betake ourselves?” says Conaire.

“To the Northeast,” says his people.

So then they went righthandwise round Tara, and lefthandwise round Bregia, and the evil beasts of Cerna were hunted by him.  But he saw it not till the chase had ended.

They that made of the world that smoky mist of magic were elves, and they did so because Conaire’s tabus had been violated.

Great fear then fell on Conaire because they had no way to wend save upon the Road of Midluachair and the Road of Cualu.

So they took their way by the coast of Ireland southward.

Then said Conaire on the Road of Cualu:  “whither shall we go tonight?”

“May I succeed in telling thee! my fosterling Conaire,” says Mac cecht, son of Snade Teiched, the champion of Conaire, son of Eterscel.  “Oftener have the men of Erin been contending for thee every night than thou hast been wandering about for a guesthouse.”

“Judgment goes with good times,” says Conaire.  “I had a friend in this country, if only we knew the way to his house!”

“What is his name?” asked Mac cecht.

“Da Derga of Leinster,” answered Conaire.  “He came unto me to seek a gift from me, and he did not come with a refusal.  I gave him a hundred kine of the drove.  I gave him a hundred fatted swine.  I gave him a hundred mantles made of close cloth.  I gave him a hundred blue-coloured weapons of battle.  I gave him ten red, gilded brooches.  I gave him ten vats good and brown.  I gave him ten thralls.  I gave him ten querns.  I gave him thrice nine hounds all-white in their silvern chains.  I gave him a hundred racehorses in the herds of deer.  There would be no abatement in his case though he should come again.  He would make return.  It is strange if he is surly to me tonight when reaching his abode.”

“When I was acquainted with his house,” says Mac cecht, “the road whereon thou art going towards him was the boundary of his abode.  It continues till it enters his house, for through the house passes the road.  There are seven doorways into the house, and seven bedrooms between every two doorways; but there is only one door-valve on it, and that valve is turned to every doorway to which the wind blows.”