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This Cairide' listened to the story when it was first told. Then he told it to his son, and his son told it to his son, and that son's great-great-grandson's son told it to his son's son, and he told it to my father, and my father told it to me." "And you shall tell it to me," cried the abbot triumphantly. "I will indeed," said Cairide'. Vellum was then brought and quills.
"He was," replied Cairide'. "Indeed, indeed!" said the abbot. After a while he continued: "There is only one part of your story that I do not like." "What part is that?" asked Cairide'. "It is the part where the holy man Tibraide' was ill treated by that rap by that by Mongan."
In addition to the Council which was being held, there were games and tournaments and brilliant deployments of troops, and universal feastings and enjoyments. The gathering lasted for a week, and on the last day of the week Mongan was moving through the crowd with seven guards, his story-teller Cairide', and his wife.
"What is the name of your story?" he asked. "It is called 'Mongan's Frenzy." "I never heard of it before," cried the abbot joyfully. "I am the only man that knows it," Cairide' replied. "But how does that come about?" the abbot inquired. "Because it belongs to my family," the story-teller answered. "There was a Cairide' of my nation with Mongan when he went into Faery.
One day a story-teller came to the monastery, and, like all the others, he was heartily welcomed and given a great deal more than his need. He said that his name was Cairide', and that he had a story to tell which could not be bettered among the stories of Ireland. The abbot's eyes glistened when he heard that. He rubbed his hands together and smiled on his guest.
The copyists sat at their tables. Ale was placed beside the story-teller, and he told this tale to the abbot. Said Cairide': Mongan's wife at that time was Bro'tiarna, the Flame Lady. She was passionate and fierce, and because the blood would flood suddenly to her cheek, so that she who had seemed a lily became, while you looked upon her, a rose, she was called Flame Lady.
Although she questioned and cross-questioned Cairide', her story-teller, she could discover nothing about a lady who had been known as the Black Duck. But one night when Mongan seemed to speak with Duv Laca he mentioned her father as Fiachna Duv mac Demain, and the story-teller said that king had been dead for a vast number of years.
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