Lu Ildanna said nothing till he had put away all the treasures of that eric. Then he said gravely: “All is accomplished save one thing. Have ye shouted three shouts upon the hill of Mekween?” And as he spoke he broke the spell, so that suddenly Brian and Ur and Urba remembered, and with shame and grief had to say that this last thing they had not done. In vain did Turenn supplicate for his sons, in vain even was the pleading of the king. Lu had but one answer. “All else is as nought if they have not done this thing--to shout three shouts upon the hill of Mekween.” So once more the sore-tried heroes set forth, but with dim presentiments of woe; for now they had neither the Skin of Healing nor the Sweeper of the Waves, for these had been taken away by Lu, and he would not give them again. Nevertheless, they reached their goal. A great and terrible fight was theirs with Mekween and his sons Conn and Corc and Ae--the most terrible fight, the old bards say, which was ever fought between six men--for at the beginning the sons of Turenn slew Mekween. At dusk on that disastrous day six gashed and mutilated men lay in the swoon of death. Out of that swoon, three men never waked, and these were Conn and Corc and Ae: and two had not strength to move even when they waked, and these were Ur and Urba; and Brian alone staggered to his feet, and stared through a mist of blood. When at last the eldest of the sons of Turenn looked upon his brothers, and saw their glassy eyes staring idly at the sunrise, he feared that they too were dead. Then he saw that the pulse of life still flickered. Weak as he was, he took first Ur upon his shoulders, and bore him up the rocky slope to the ridge of the hill of Mekween; and then returned and bore Urba thither also. Then it was that three thin, faint shouts went forth upon the hill, so thin and faint that the browsing stags on the uplands did not lift their heads. Thus was it that the Great Eric was fulfilled. But, alas! the piteous tale of their return. None could tell aright that woe-stricken, death-weary voyage of three dying men, upborne by one hope only--that they might free their name and clan from the eric put upon them, and lay their accusing deaths at the feet of Lu Ildanna. Yet hardly might they do even this. For as they drew nigh the coasts of Erin once more, Ur and Urba spoke to Brian and supplicated him to raise their heads, so that, before they died, they might see again the green hills of their beloved Banba, and high Ben Edar, and their home Dun Turenn. But to this Brian made answer: “Dear brothers, too great is my weakness, for I am now even as ye are. Lo! through my gaping wounds one of these birds that skim above us might fly, and be not snared within me.” After that, they spake no word till the galley grided against the sands of Erin.