“A king should be to all men what each man would fain be to himself,” said Lu. “My father Kian says well: the first duty of a king is kinglihood. But since Nuadh of the Silver Hand is fain to rest at ease in his dun, under the safe shadow of Tara, so let him rest. We are men, and must act.” Therewith all took counsel, and while Lu rode westward, to raise all whom he could to succour the men of Connaught, Ald and Art rode southward. “I shall go north,” said Kian. “Why so?” asked Lu, knowing that it would be best for his father to go eastward. “The wind bloweth that way,” answered Kian lightly. But truly enough none knew that in that answer and in that riding northward, was the beginning of the long and dreadful tragedy of which, for generations thereafter, the bards sang as The Fate of the Sons of Turenn. * * * * * At this point Peterkin rose from where he kneeled beside Eilidh, and went over to Ian Mor and took his hand and looked long at him. “These words I have heard you say again and again, Ian--_Ma tha sin an Dan_, if it be Destiny--what do they mean?” “I cannot tell you, Peterkin; for to me they mean everything.” “But must Kian come to sorrow because he followed the way of the wind?” “I cannot tell you, Peterkin. But of this you may be sure, that no man needs to do this or that thing because of the way of the wind or anything else. Only, behind all doings of men there is a wind that blows. That is the wind of Destiny. That is what I meant when I said that Kian, choosing lightly to go the way of the wind, and by his own choice, yet went the way of Fate.” “And is Fate a man?” “No.” “Have you ever seen it?” “No.” “Has any one ever seen it?” “No.” Peterkin laughed below his breath. “Ivor Maclean the boatman, told me that ‘an Dan’ was only a shadow before and behind, and that none need trouble about a shadow.” “And what do _you_ think, Peterkin?” “I think that ‘an Dan’ is only a shadow before and behind; and I laugh to see my shadow, but I do not fear it. It is only a shadow.” “Peterkin is right, Ian,” said Eilidh, in a low voice. “And do you remember what was said long ago about wisdom coming out of the mouths of little children?” “Yes,” Ian answered slowly and gravely, “Peterkin is right.” But Peterkin only laughed merrily, as suddenly he sprang up. “See,” he exclaimed, “my shadow has leapt from beside me, till now it is fading along the wall. When I laughed it leapt away.” * * * * * Well, resumed Ian Mor, Kian was not many miles forth upon the great pastures to the north of Tara, when he saw three lordly men riding towards him.