But the men of Ireland made no answer, for they knew well that at the sound of the sweet pitiful music made by that comely man of the Sidhe, even women in their pains and men that were wounded would fall asleep.

It is then Finn rose up and spoke to the King of Ireland.  “Who will be your sureties that you will fulfil this?” he said.  “The kings of the provinces of Ireland,” said the king, “and Cithruadh with his Druids.”  So they gave their pledges, and Finn took in hand to keep Teamhair safe till the breaking of day on the morrow.

Now there was a fighting man among the followers of the King of Ireland, Fiacha, son of Conga, that Cumhal, Finn’s father, used to have a great liking for, and he said to Finn:  “Well, boy,” he said, “what reward would you give me if I would bring you a deadly spear, that no false cast was ever made with?” “What reward are you asking of me?” said Finn.  “Whatever your right hand wins at any time, the third of it to be mine,” said Fiacha, “and a third of your trust and your friendship to be mine.”  “I will give you that,” said Finn.  Then Fiacha brought him the spear, unknown to the sons of Morna or to any other person, and he said:  “When you will hear the music of the Sidhe, let you strip the covering off the head of the spear and put it to your forehead, and the power of the spear will not let sleep come upon you.”

Then Finn rose up before all the men of Ireland, and he made a round of the whole of Teamhair.  And it was not long till he heard the sorrowful music, and he stripped the covering from the head of the spear, and he held the power of it to his forehead.  And Aillen went on playing his little harp, till he had put every one in their sleep as he was used; and then he let a flame of fire out from his mouth to burn Teamhair.  And Finn held up his fringed crimson cloak against the flame, and it fell down through the air and went into the ground, bringing the four-folded cloak with it deep into the earth.

And when Aillen saw his spells were destroyed, he went back to Sidhe Finnachaidh on the top of Slieve Fuad; but Finn followed after him there, and as Aillen was going in at the door he made a cast of the spear that went through his heart.  And he struck his head off then, and brought it back to Teamhair, and fixed it on a crooked pole and left it there till the rising of the sun over the heights and invers of the country.

And Aillen’s mother came to where his body was lying, and there was great grief on her, and she made this complaint:—­

“Ochone!  Aillen is fallen, chief of the Sidhe of Beinn Boirche; the slow clouds of death are come on him.  Och! he was pleasant, Och! he was kind.  Aillen, son of Midhna of Slieve Fuad.

“Nine times he burned Teamhair.  It is a great name he was always looking for, Ochone, Ochone, Aillen!”

And at the breaking of day, the king and all the men of Ireland came out upon the lawn at Teamhair where Finn was.  “King,” said Finn, “there is the head of the man that burned Teamhair, and the pipe and the harp that made his music.  And it is what I think,” he said, “that Teamhair and all that is in it is saved.”