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The King of Leinster came back then. He went to Duv Laca's room. "Where is Tibraide'?" said he. "It wasn't Tibraide was here," said the hag who was still sitting on the spike, and was not half dead, "it was Mongan." "Why did you let him near you?" said the king to Duv Laca. "There is no one has a better right to be near me than Mongan has," said Duv Laca, "he is my own husband," said she.
"You made your bargain," said the King of Leinster, "my cows and their calves for your Duv Laca, and the man that makes a bargain keeps a bargain." "I never before heard," said Mongan, "of a man giving away his own wife." "Even if you never heard of it before, you must do it now," said Duv Laca, "for honour is longer than life." Mongan became angry when Duv Laca said that.
"It is in Ulster," said Branduv. Mongan did not want to say anything more then, but the King of Leinster was so intent and everybody else was listening and Duv Laca was nudging his arm, so he said: "What is it that you do want?" "I want Duv Laca." "I want her too," said Mongan.
When they neared that country they found a great crowd going on the road with them, and they learned that the king was giving a feast in honour of his marriage to Duv Laca, for the year of waiting was nearly out, and the king had sworn he would delay no longer.
As time went on the poor Flame Lady grew more and more jealous of Duv Laca, and more and more certain that, if only she could know what had happened, she would get some ease to her tormented heart and some assuagement of her perfectly natural curiosity.
He gave the Black Hag seven castles with their territories, and he gave her one hundred of every sort of cattle that he had captured. She was satisfied. Then he went back to Ireland, and after he had been there for some time his wife gave birth to a son. "You have not told me one word about Duv Laca," said the Flame Lady reproachfully. "I am coming to that," replied Mongan.
It was while he was in this condition of glee and expansion that the Flame Lady put her arms about his neck and begged he would tell her the story of Duv Laca, and, being boisterous then and full of good spirits, he agreed to her request, and he prepared to tell the tale.
"Where the one is the other will be," cried mac an Da'v joyously. "Go," said Mongan, "to Rath Descirt of Bregia; you know that place?" "As well as my tongue knows my teeth." "Duv Laca is there; see her, and ask her what she wants me to do." Mac an Da'v went there and returned.
"Do you see this woman sitting beside me?" he continued, pointing to Duv Laca. "I do indeed," said Mongan. "Well," said Branduv, "this woman is Duv Laca of the White Hand that I took away from Mongan; she is just going to marry me, but if you will make an exchange, you can marry this Duv Laca here, and I will marry that Ivell of the Shining Cheeks yonder." Mongan pretended to be very angry then.
"I love you madly and dearly, and with all my faculties and members." "That is the way! love you," said Duv Laca. "We shall have a notable year of courtship and joy. And let us go now," she continued, "for I am impatient to be with you." "Alas!" said Branduv, as he followed her. "Alas, alas!" said the King of Leinster.
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