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They must have been young, for one time a Leinsterman came on them, a great robber named Fiacuil mac Cona, and he killed the poets. He chopped them up and chopped them down. He did not leave one poeteen of them all.
May the gods protect my going as they protected my coming," said the robber piously. "Amen," said Fionn, "and now, tell me what you have come for?" "Have you any plan against this lord of the Shl?" Fiacuil whispered. "I will attack him," said Fionn. "That is not a plan," the other groaned, "we do not plan to deliver an attack but to win a victory." "Is this a very terrible person?" Fionn asked.
By this sign and this you will know if it is safe to do so, said Fiacuil mac Cona; but in this place, with this sign on it and that, you must not venture a toe. But where Fionn would venture his toes his ears would follow.
"It is Aillen mac Midna's own spear," he continued, "and it was taken out of his Shi' by your father." "Well?" said Fionn, wondering nevertheless where Fiacuil got the spear, but too generous to ask.
He put them out of the world and out of life, so that they stopped being, and no one could tell where they went or what had really happened to them; and it is a wonder indeed that one can do that to anything let alone a band. If they were not youngsters, the bold Fiacuil could not have managed them all.
"A third of all you earn and a seat at your council." "I grant that," said Fionn, "and now, tell me your plan?" "You remember my spear with the thirty rivets of Arabian gold in its socket?" "The one," Fionn queried, "that had its head wrapped in a blanket and was stuck in a bucket of water and was chained to a wall as well the venomous Birgha?" "That one," Fiacuil replied.
"When you hear the great man of the Shi' coming, take the wrappings off the head of the spear and bend your face over it; the heat of the spear, the stench of it, all its pernicious and acrid qualities will prevent you from going to sleep." "Are you sure of that?" said Fionn. "You couldn't go to sleep close to that stench; nobody could," Fiacuil replied decidedly.
There remained a laughing and crying and loving servant who wanted to tie himself into knots if that would please the son of his great captain. Fionn went home on the robber's shoulder, and the robber gave great snorts and made great jumps and behaved like a first-rate horse. For this same Fiacuil was the husband of Bovmall, Fionn's aunt.
He continued: "Aillen mac Midna will be off his guard when he stops playing and begins to blow his fire; he will think everybody is asleep; then you can deliver the attack you were speaking of, and all good luck go with it." "I will give him back his spear," said Fionn. "Here it is," said Fiacuil, taking the Birgha from under his cloak.
"Watch these and this and that," Fionn would have been told, "and always swim with a knife in your teeth." He lived there until his guardians found out where he was and came after him. Fiacuil gave him up to them, and he was brought home again to the woods of Slieve Bloom, but he had gathered great knowledge and new supplenesses. The sons of Morna left him alone for a long time.
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