“Thou shalt go forth to-night,” said the man, [Footnote:  This man was Lu the Long-Handed, the same who met him when he was leaving home.] “and take captive the Liath Macha and Black Shanghlan.  Power will be given to thee.  Go out boldly.”

“I am not wont to go out fearfully,” answered the lad.  “Great labours are thrust upon me.”

He went into the supper hall as at other times and took his customary place there, and ate and drank.

“Thy eyes are very bright,” said Laeg.

“They will be brighter ere the day,” he replied.

“That is an expert juggler,” said Laeg.  “How he tosseth the bright balls!”

“Can he toss the stars so?” said Setanta.

“Thou art strange and wild to-night,” said Laeg.

“I will be stranger and wilder ere the morrow,” cried Setanta.

He stood up to go.  Laeg caught him by the skirt of his mantle.  The piece came away in his hand.

“Whither art thou going, Setanta?” cried the King from the other end of the vast hall.

“To seek my horses,” cried the lad.  His voice rang round the hollow dome and down the resounding galleries and long corridors, so that men started in their seats and looked towards him.

“They are stabled since the setting of the sun,” said the chief groom.

“Thou liest,” answered the boy.  “They are in the hills and valleys of Erin.”  His eyes burned like fire and his stature was exalted before their eyes.

“Great deeds will be done in Erin this night,” said Concobar.

He went forth into the night.  There was great power upon him.  He crossed the Plain of the Hurlings and the Plain of the Assemblies and the open country and the great waste moor, going on to Dun-Culain.  Culain’s new hound cowered low when he saw him.  The boy sprang over moat and rampart at one bound and burst open the doors of the smith’s house, breaking the bar.  The noise of the riven beam was like the brattling of thunder.

“That is an unusual way to enter a man’s house,” said Culain.  He and his people were at supper.

“It is,” said Setanta.  “Things more unusual will happen this night.  Give me bridles that will hold the strongest horses.”  Culain gave him two bridles.

“Will they hold the strongest horses?” said the boy.

“Anything less than the Liath Macha they will hold,” said the smith.

The boy snapped the bridles and flung them aside.  “I want bridles that will hold the Liath Macha and Black Shanglan,” said he.

“Fire all the furnaces,” cried Culain.  “Handle your tools; show your might.  Work now, men, for your lives.  Verily, if he get not the bridles, soon your dead will be more numerous than your living.”