Concobar took the fawn-skin towel from the boy and polished the chariot, and the wheels, tyres, and boxes, and the wheel-spokes.  He oiled the wheels too, and mightily lifting the great chariot seized the spokes with his right hand and made the wheels spin.

“Go now to the chamber of which I have given thee the keys,” he said, “and bring the buckets, and clear out the mangers to the last grain, and empty the stale barley into the place of the burning, and afterwards take fresh barley from the bin which is in the chamber and fill the mangers.  Empty the racks also and bring fresh hay.  Thou wilt find it stored there too; clean straw also and litter the horse-stalls.”

The boy did that.  In the meantime Concobar polished the pole, and the yoke, and the chains.  From the wall he took the head-gear of the horses and the long shining reins of interwoven brass and did the same very carefully till there was not a speck of rust or discolouration to be seen.

“Where are the horses, my Uncle Concobar?” said the boy.

“That I cannot rightly tell,” said Concobar, “but verily they are somewhere.”

“What are those horses?” said the boy.  “How are they called?  What their attributes, and why do I fill their racks and mangers?”

“They are the Liath Macha and Black Shanglan,” said Concobar.  “They have not been seen in Erin for three hundred years, not since Macha dwelt visibly in Emain as the bride of Kimbaoth, son of Fiontann.  In this chariot she went forth to war, charioteering her warlike groom.  But they are to come again for the promised one and bear him to battle and to conflict in this chariot, and the time is not known but the King of Emain is under gesa [Footnote:  Terrible druidic obligations.] to keep the chariot bright and the racks and mangers furnished with fresh hay, and barley two years old.  He is to wait, and watch, and stand prepared under gesa most terrible.”

“Maybe Kimbaoth will return to us again,” said the boy.

“Nay, it hath not been so prophesied,” answered the King.  “He was great, and stern, and formidable.  But our promised one is gentle exceedingly.  He will not know his own greatness, and his nearest comrades will not know it, and there will be more of love in his heart than war.”  So saying Concobar looked steadfastly upon the boy.

“Conall Carnach is as famous for love as for war,” said Setanta.  “He is peerless in beauty, and his strength and courage are equal to his comeliness, and his chivalry and battle-splendour to his strength.”

“Nay, lad, it is not Conall Carnach, though the women of Ulla sicken and droop for the love of him.  Verily, it is not Conall Carnach.”

Setanta examined curiously the great war-car.

“Was Kimbaoth assisting his wife,” he asked, “when she took captive the sons of Dithorba?”

“Nay,” said the King, “she went forth alone and crossed the Shannon with one step into the land of the Fir-bolgs, and there, one by one, she bound those builder-giants the sons of Dithorba, and bore them hither in her might, and truly those five brethren were no small load for the back of one woman.”