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Updated: June 5, 2025
Gilveen had come into the room and she saw Flann and Morag give each other a true-lover's kiss. She went away.
Then the Spae-Woman stood up and said the blessing of the journey over Morag: May the Olden One, whom Fairy Women nurtured Through seven ages, Bring you seven Waves of fortune. Morag gave her the clasp of farewell then, and went on her way with the Little Red Hen under her arm and the three presents that the Queen of Senlabor gave her in her pouch.
The cattle had come home, but Crom Duv was not with them. Morag milked the cows and brought all the milk within, leaving no milk for the cats to drink outside. Six came into the kitchen to get their supper there. One after another they sprang up on the table, one more proud and overbearing than the other. Each cat ate without condescending to make a single mew.
All day they were together and Flann was happy that his friend was so beautiful and that so beautiful a being was his friend. And he told her of his adventures in the Town of the Red Castle and of the Princess Flame-of-Wine and his love for her. "And if you love her still I will never see you again," said Morag. "But," said Flann, "I could not love her after the way she mocked at me."
"Which way do we go to come to that place, my Little Red Hen?" said Morag. "The way of the sun," said the Little Red Hen. So Morag and Flann went the way of the sun and the Little Red Hen hopped beside them. Morag had in a weasel-skin purse around her neck the two rowan berries that Flann had given her. They went towards the house of the Spae-Woman.
Flann thought he would see a long-armed creature like Crom Duv himself. Instead he saw a girl with good and kind eyes, whose disfigurements were that her face was pitted and her hair was bushy. "I am Morag, Crom Duv's byre-maid," said she. "Will Crom Duv kill me?" said Flann. "No. He'll make you serve him," said the byre-maid. "And what will he make me do for him?"
The next day when he came into the house he saw Morag dressed for her journey but seated at the fire. She was pale and ill-looking. "Do not go to-day, Morag," said he. "I shall go to-day," said Morag. She put her hand into the bosom of her dress and took out a newly-woven handkerchief folded. "This is a token for your mother," she said. "I have woven it for her.
I know many winter tales, from 'Minochag and Morag' to 'The Shifty Lad'; I can make passable poetry by word of mouth; I can speak the English and the French, and I have seen enough of courtiers to know that half their canons are to please and witch the eye of women in a way that I could undertake to do by my looks alone and some good-humour.
But I got no present save shoes of paper and stockings of butter-milk and these a herdsman stole from me as I crossed the mountains. But Morag got better presents, for the Queen gave her three gifts a scissors that cut cloth of itself, a ball of thread that went into the needle of itself, and a needle that sewed of itself.
When Caintigern had come, when she knew her son Flann, and when it was known to her and to the Spae-Woman that the token Morag had given him held the seven drops of heart's blood that would bring back to their own forms the seven wild geese that were Caintigern's brothers when all this was known the Spae-Woman sent her most secret messenger to the marshes to give word to the seven wild geese that they were to fly to her house on the night when the moon was full.
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