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But at a point of the game Becuma grew thoughtful, and, as by a lapse of memory, she made a move which gave the victory to her opponent. But she had intended that. She sat then, biting on her lip with her white small teeth and staring angrily at Art. "What do you demand from me?" she asked. "I bind you to eat no food in Ireland until you find the wand of Curoi, son of Dare'."
"Becuma is the cause, and she must be banished." "If you must tell me what to do," said Conn, "tell me at least to do something that I can do." "I will tell you certainly. You can keep Becuma and your ills as long as you want to. It does not matter to me.
In the Shi' the crime of Becuma would have been lightly considered, and would have received none or but a nominal punishment, but in the second world a horrid gravity attaches to such a lapse, and the retribution meted is implacable and grim.
It is probable that, however courageously she had accepted fate, Becuma had been sharply stricken in her pride; in the sense of personal strength, aloofness, and identity, in which the mind likens itself to god and will resist every domination but its own. She had been punished, that is, she had submitted to control, and her sense of freedom, of privilege, of very being, was outraged.
To insist on other people sharing in our personal torment is the first step towards insisting that they shall share in our joy, as we shall insist when we get it. Becuma considered that if she must suffer all else she met should suffer also.
There are good and evil people in this and in every other world, and the person who goes hence will go to the good or the evil that is native to him, while those who return come as surely to their due. The trouble which had fallen on Becuma did not leave her repentant, and the sweet lady began to do wrong as instantly and innocently as a flower begins to grow.
But the young prince did not take any notice of her while she stood by the board, for he knew that this girl was the enemy of Ireland, and he could not bring himself even to look at her. Becuma, looking down on his beautiful head, smiled as much in rage as in disdain. "O son of a king," said she, "I demand a game with you for stakes."
On reaching Tara, Delvcaem, who was more powerful in art and magic than Becuma, ordered the latter to go away, and she did so. She left the king's side. She came from the midst of the counsellors and magicians. She did not bid farewell to any one. She did not say good-bye to the king as she set out for Ben Edair.
She was smiling to herself secretly, for she had seen what the mortal eyes around could not see. "I think the game is mine," she insisted softly. "I think that your friends in Faery have cheated," he replied, "but the game is yours if you are content to win it that way." "I bind you," said Becuma, "to eat no food in Ireland until you have found Delvcaem, the daughter of Morgan."
"You will yet love her better than she loves you," said Cromdes, meaning thereby that they would hate each other. While they spoke the king and Becuma entered the palace. "I had better go to greet my father," said the young man. "You had better wait until he sends for you," his companion advised, and they returned to their game.
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