Lu, son of Kian, was also of the Dedannans, but he was of the older and rarer branch, and he and his claimed that the Fairy Host, of which they formed the chief ornament, rose or fell by their support. Among the splendid company were the sons of Manannan, son of Lir, the lord of the sea, and other chieftains and brave knights. Yet, as they approached, it was Lu of the Long Hand who held all eyes. Upon his head was a golden helmet, wherefrom gleamed two great shining stones--the eyes of strange gods they seemed to the people. His body was covered with shining armour that was no other than the famous coat of armour of Manannan, through which no weapon might pierce; and by his side hung the terrible sword, the “Answerer,” which had but one answer for every one against whom it was raised--death. The horse, too, that Lu rode was the far-famed stallion of Manannan, so swift that the March wind could not overtake him, nor could water, air, or land offer any obstacles to his progress. A great shout welcomed these champions of the Fairy Host as they drew near, but this shout came from the assemblage outside of Tara; and neither the king nor his lords rose at their approach. The Fomorians scowled and stood apart, and then scornfully resumed their tax-gathering. When they had finished their task the Fomorians rose and together approached the place where the king sat high among his people. As they drew near, Nuadh of the Silver Hand and all his lords rose and made humble obeisance. At this, Lu the Ildanna frowned, and when Lu of the Long Hand frowned his company knew that evil was like to come. “Tell me, O King,” he said haughtily: “why do you make obeisance to these rude, ungainly folk, and did none to us when we approached, to us who are of the old Dedannan race?” Thereupon Nuadh of the Silver Hand spake the bitterness of truth, and how it was that in order to save the land from devastation, and his people from rapine and outrage, he submitted to the Fomorian yoke. And for the same reason he had not ventured to pay homage to Lu and the Fairy Host, for the Fomorians would have taken this as an insult to Balor of the Evil Eye, and some great evil would have ensued. Lu smiled scornfully. “And at the worst, O Nuadh of the Silver Hand, there is a disastrous end and death. What then? Is not death the sure end of all men, and is not disaster the lot of many a hero as well as of many a slave?” “That is so, Ildanna.” “Then why evade that shadow, and all because of fear of these dark pirates out of the north. Is not honour better than safety, and is not shame a worse death than to be slain?” “Even so, Ildanna. Nevertheless, I wish to avoid vain bloodshed. There can be but one end. Why should I ruin my people?” “Ruin is not a sure thing, O King: but if it were, better ruin than dishonour.” “Dost thou speak as a lord of high birth, or as one of the common people?” “I speak as the son of Kian the Noble.”