The sons of Tuirenn took counsel together in whispers. Iuchar and Iucharba were in favour of admitting their guilt, but Brian was afraid that, if they confessed, Lugh would withdraw his offer to accept a fine, and would demand their deaths. So he stood out, and said that, though it was not they who had killed Cian, yet, sooner than remain under Lugh’s anger, as he suspected them, they would pay the same fine as if they had. “Certainly you shall pay the fine,” said Lugh, “and I will tell you what it shall be. It is this: three apples; and a pig’s-skin; and a spear; and two horses and a chariot; and seven pigs; and a hound-whelp; and a cooking-spit; and three shouts on a hill: that is the fine, and, if you think it is too much, I will remit some of it, but, if you do not think it is too much, then pay it.” “If it were a hundred times that,” replied Brian, “we should not think it too much. Indeed, it seems so little that I fear there must be some treachery concealed in it.” “I do not think it too little,” replied Lugh. “Give me your pledge before the people of the goddess Danu that you will pay it faithfully, and I will give you mine that I will ask no more.” So the sons of Tuirenn bound themselves before the Tuatha Dé Danann to pay the fine to Lugh. When they had sworn, and given sureties, Lugh turned to them again. “I will now”, he said, “explain to you the nature of the fine you have pledged yourselves to pay me, so that you may know whether it is too little or not.” And, with foreboding hearts, the sons of Tuirenn set themselves to listen. “The three apples that I have demanded,” he began, “are three apples from the Garden of the Hesperides, in the east of the world. You will know them by three signs. They are the size of the head of a month-old child, they are of the colour of burnished gold, and they taste of honey. Wounds are healed and diseases cured by eating them, and they do not diminish in any way by being eaten. Whoever casts one of them hits anything he wishes, and then it comes back into his hand. I will accept no other apples instead of these. Their owners keep them perpetually guarded because of a prophecy that three young warriors from the west of the world will come to take them by force, and, brave as you may be, I do not think that you will ever get them. “The pig’s-skin that I have demanded is the pig’s-skin of Tuis, King of Greece. It has two virtues: its touch perfectly cures all wounded or sick persons if only there is any life still left in them; and every stream of water through which it passes is turned into wine for nine days. I do not think that you will get it from the King of Greece, either with his consent or without it.