'I will not do it,' said Cuchulainn; 'the Ulstermen will take their
slave-women to their beds, and there will be born to them a servile
offspring, and they will use their milch-cows for meat in the
winter.'
'Is there anything else then?' said the messenger.
'There is,' said Cuchulainn; 'and I will not tell it you. It shall
be agreed to, if any one tell it you.'
'I know it,' said Fergus; 'I know what the man tried to suggest;
and it is no advantage to you. And this is the agreement,' said
Fergus: 'that the ford on which takes place (?) his battle and
combat with one man, the cattle shall not be taken thence a day and
a night; if perchance there come to him the help of the Ulstermen.
And it is a marvel to me,' said Fergus, 'that it is so long till
they come out of their sufferings.'
'It is indeed easier for us,' said Ailill, 'a man every day than a
hundred every night.'
_The Death of Etarcomol_
Then Fergus went on this errand; Etarcomol, son of Edan [Note: Name
uncertain. YBL has Eda, LL Feda.] and Lethrinne, foster-son of
Ailill and Medb, followed.
'I do not want you to go,' said Fergus, 'and it is not for hatred
of you; but I do not like combat between you and Cuchulainn.
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