Then roused himself King Ailill, of Connaught’s land the king,
With Maev to march to battle, their aid to friends to bring: 
And forth from Connaught’s kingdom went many a lord of worth,
Beside them marched the exiles who gat from Ulster birth: 
So forward went that army, and reached to Kerry’s land,
And near the Ford of Fenna they came, and there made stand.

While this was done, the wounded three
Within the hold lay still,
And Flidais cared for all, for she
To heal their wounds had skill.

To Ailill Fair-Haired’s castle the Connaught host was led,
And toward the foeman’s ramparts the Connaught herald sped;
He called on Ailill Fair-haired to come without the gate,
And there to meet King Ailill, and with him hold debate. 
“I come to no such meeting,” the angry chief replied;
“Yon man is far too haughty:  too grossly swells his pride!”

Yet ’twas peaceful meeting,
So the old men say,
Ailill willed; whose greeting
Heralds bore that day. 
Fergus, ere he perished,
First he sought to aid
He that thought who cherished
Friendship’s claims obeyed: 
Then his foe he vainly
Hoped in truce to bind: 
Peace, ’tis said, was plainly
Dear to Connaught’s mind!

The wounded men, on litters laid,
Without the walls they bore
To friendly hands, with skill to aid,
And fainting health restore.

At the castle of Ailill the Fair-Haired the Connaught-men rushed in attack, And to win it they failed:  from his ramparts in defeat were his foes driven back:  For long in that contest they struggled, yet naught in the fight they prevailed — For a week were the walls of the castle of Ailill the Fair-Haired assailed, Seven score of the nobles of Connaught, and all of them warriors of might, For the castle of Ailill contended, and fell as they strove in the fight.

“’Tis sure that with omen of evil this castle was sought by our folk!” Thus Bricroo,[FN#84] the Poisonous Scoffer, in mockery, jeering them, spoke:  “The taunt,” answered Ailill Mae Mata, “is true, and with grief I confess That the fame of the heroes of Ulster hereafter is like to be less, For a three of the Ulstermen’s champions in stress of the fight have been quelled; And the vengeance we wait for from Ulster hath long been by Ulster withheld; As a pillar of warfare each hero, ’twas claimed, could a battle sustain; Yet by none of the three in this battle hath a foeman been conquered, or slain!  In the future for all of these champions shall scorn and much mocking befall:  One man hath come forth from yon castle; alone he hath wounded them all—­ Such disgrace for such heroes of valour no times that are past ever saw, For three lords of the battle lie conquered by mannikins, fashioned of straw!”

[FN#84] Spelt Bricriu.  The usual epithet of Bricriu, “Bricriu of the Poison Tongue,” is indicated in the verse rendering.

“Ah! woe is me,” said Bricroo, “how long, thus stretched on ground,
The length of Father Fergus hath here by all been found! 
But one he sought to conquer; a single fight essayed,
And here he met his victor, and low on land is laid.”