“Look ye, ye carrion wolves, we spare your lives only that ye may fare back to your dens in the north, and tell that unkingly king, Balor of the Evil Eye, that which we have done unto your company. And say this also, that if he come hither, we shall do unto him and his, that which we have done unto these dead men who were once your fellows.” With that the nine Fomorians departed, scowling fiercely and below their breath muttering imprecations and menaces. That night the beacons of joy flared out across valley and plain, from the hill of Tara, and great were the rejoicings throughout the land. Only Nuadh of the Silver Hand dreamed uneasily for that and many other nights; knowing well that Balor of the Evil Eye would not let pass the slight which had been put upon him. And after all, it was but a handful of the Fomorian host which had been slain on the Plains of Tara. Nevertheless, the king hoped that he might be spared the wrath of Balor, for none of the Dedannans whom he ruled had taken part in the fray, but only those who were of the company of Lu of the Long Hand. Bitter, indeed, was the wrath of Balor, when he heard what had been done to his Fomorian emissaries. “The Dedannans shall soon be but a memory,” he exclaimed; “their kings and nobles shall utterly perish, and of all their race none shall survive save those who shall be slaves for ever to my people. Their very land, that green Eri they are so fain of, shall be no more than an unregarded province of Lochlin.” Thereafter, Balor sent word throughout all Lochlin, from the Cape of the Midnight Sun to the Narrow Seas,[9] and bade all the peoples who owned him king to assemble speedily for war; and in every haven he bade the sea-galleys to be got ready. This took many weeks, and thereafter was the slow waiting for the coming of spring. But at last all was ready, and then Bras, the son of Balor, led forth the mightiest host which had ever sailed from the shores of Lochlin. This vast concourse of galleys sailed northward before favouring winds, and then westward along the storm-swept coasts of Alba, and at last southward again by the Hebrid Isles. Thence, with fresh provisions and replenished water-barrels, they sailed towards and round the northern headlands of Eri, and like a great flock of sea-vultures settled upon the coasts of Connaught. With laughter and fierce disdain the Fomorians spread far and wide, and at once began to despoil the country, and lay waste the tilled lands. In the ears of all rang the arrogant parting words of Balor of the Evil Eye: “And when at the last ye have cut off for me the head of that man Lu, called the Ildanna, then put a mighty cable around this troublesome Isle of Erin, and tow it back with your ships, and lay it alongside the north coasts of our Lochlin.”