Thick as the spit of a caldron was the shaft of each. Liken
thou that, O Fer rogain!"
"Hard it is for me to find their like. I know not in Erin that trio,
unless it be yon trio of Pictland, who went into exile from their
country, and are now in Conaire's household. These are their names:
Dublonges son of Trebuat, and Trebuat son of Hua-Lonsce, and Curnach son
of Hua Faich. The three who are best in Pictland at taking arms are that
trio. Nine decads will fall at their hands in their first encounter, and
a man will fall for each of their weapons, besides one for each of
themselves. And they will share prowess with every trio in the Hostel.
They will boast a victory over a king or a chief of the reavers; and
they will afterwards escape though wounded. Woe to him who shall wreak
the Destruction, though it be only on account of those three!"
Says Lomna Druth: "I swear to God what my tribe swears, if my counsel
were taken, the Destruction would never be wrought."
"Ye cannot," says Ingcel: "clouds of weakness are coming to you.
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