Word was then sent to Lugh at Tara that the Sons of Turenn were at Ben Edar, and the eric with them.

“Let them pay it over to the High King,” said Lugh.

So it was done; and when Lugh had tidings that the High King had the eric, he returned to Ben Edar.

Then the eric was laid before him, and Brian said, “Is the debt paid, O Lugh, son of Kian?”

Lugh said, “Truly there is here the price of any man’s death; but it is not lawful to give a quittance for an eric that is not complete.  Where is the cooking-spit from the Island of Finchory? and have ye given the three shouts upon the Hill of Mochaen?”

At this word Brian and Iuchar and Iucharba fell prone upon the ground, and were speechless awhile from grief and dismay.  After a while they left the Assembly like broken men, with hanging heads and with heavy steps, and betook themselves to Dun Turenn, where they found their father, and they told him all that had befallen them since they had parted with him and set forth on the Quest.  Thus they passed the night in gloom and evil forebodings, and on the morrow they went down once more to the place where the Boat of Mananan was moored.  And Ethne their sister accompanied them, wailing and lamenting, but no words of cheer had they now to say to her, for now they began to comprehend that a mightier and a craftier mind had caught them in the net of fate.  And whereas they had deemed themselves heroes and victors in the most glorious quest whereof the earth had record, they now knew that they were but as arrows in the hands of a laughing archer, who shoots one at a stag and one at the heart of a foe, and one, it may be, in sheer wantonness, and to try his bow, over a cliff edge into the sea.

[Illustration:  “There dwelt the red-haired ocean-nymphs”]

However, they put forth in their magic boat, but in no wise could they direct it to the Isle of Finchory, and a quarter of a year they traversed the seaways and never could get tidings of that island.  At last Brian fashioned for himself by magic art a water-dress, with a helmet of crystal, and into the depths of the sea he plunged.  Here, the story tells, he searched hither and thither for a fortnight, till at last he found that island, which was an island indeed with the sea over it and around it and beneath it.  There dwelt the red-haired ocean-nymphs in glittering palaces among the sea-flowers, and they wrought fair embroidery with gold and jewels, and sang, as they wrought, a fairy music like the chiming of silver bells.  Three fifties of them sat or played in their great hall as Brian entered, and they gazed on him but spoke no word.  Then Brian strode to the wide hearth, and without a word he seized from it a spit that was made of beaten gold, and turned again to go.  But at that the laughter of the sea-maidens rippled through the hall and one of them said: 

“Thou art a bold man, Brian, and bolder than thou knowest; for if thy two brothers were here, the weakest of us could vanquish all the three.  Nevertheless, take the spit for thy daring; we had never granted it for thy prayers.”