“Wherefore this holiday attire?” said his mother.

“Because I shall see great people ere I put it off,” he answered.

She kissed him and he went forth as at other times to play upon the lawn by himself.  The king sat upon a stone seat hard by the door of the grianan.  Under the eaves he sat sunning himself and gazing upon the sea.  The boy kneeled and kissed his hand.  His father stroked his head and said, “Win victory and blessings, dear Setanta.”  He looked at the lad as if he would speak further, but restrained himself and leaned back again in his seat.

Dectera sat in the window of the upper chamber amongst her women.  They sat around her sewing and embroidering.  She herself was embroidering a new mantle for the boy against his next birthday, though that indeed was far away, but ever while her hands wrought her eyes were on the lawn.

“Mother,” cried Setanta,” watch this stroke.”

He flung his ball into the air and as it fell met it with his hurle, leaning back and putting his whole force into the blow, and struck it into the clouds.  It was long before the ball fell.  It fell at his feet.

“Mother,” he cried again, “watch this stroke.”

He went to the east mearing of the spacious lawn and struck the ball to the west.  It traversed the great lawn ere it touched the earth and bounded shining above the trees.  Truly it was a marvellous stroke for one so young.  As he went for his ball the boy stood still before the window.  “Give me thy blessing, dear mother,” he said.

“Win victory and blessing for ever, O Setanta,” she answered.  “Truly thou art an expert hurler.”

“These feats,” he replied, “are nothing to what I shall yet do in needlework, O mother, when I am of age to be trusted with my first needle, and knighted by thy hands, and enrolled amongst the valiant company of thy sewing-women.”

“What meaneth the boy?” said his mother, for she perceived that he spoke awry.

“That his childhood is over, O Dectera,” answered one of her women, “and that thou art living in the past and in dreams.  For who can hold back Time in his career?”

The queen’s heart leaped when she heard that word, and the blood forsook her face.  She bent down her head over her work and her tears fell.  After a space she looked out again upon the lawn to see if the boy had returned, but he had not.

She bade her women go and fetch him, and afterwards the whole household.  They called aloud, “Setanta, Setanta,” but there was no answer, only silence and the watching and mocking trees and a sound like low laughter in the leaves; for Setanta was far away.