There was great rejoicing in the land when the fleet sailed away. Avarta
thanked the Fenians for their aid and gave them many rich gifts. Finn
was satisfied. Avarta, however, was willing to make still further
amends.
“Since I took away your men by an enchantment, it is only fair that you
should make an award for me to fulfill,” he insisted.
“There is no award I would require of you,” said Finn, who never asked
favors of any man to whom he had given help.
“Stay, O Finn,” cried Conan. “You did not have to ride all day on that
bony back, which was sharper than a sword. If there is an award to be
made, I am the one entitled to it.”
Finn would have said no, fearing that Conan would ask for gold and thus
put shame upon the Fenians. But Avarta turned to Conan politely and told
him to name his award.
“It is this,” said Conan. “You are to bring out your bony horse and
place upon its back fourteen of your own nobles. You are to bring them
to Erin, so some one else shall feel the pain of that journey.”
The Fenians roared with laughter. They were glad that Conan had not
yielded to his desire for gain, but had made a good award.
“And I wish to add the sentence, that Avarta himself shall cling to the
animal’s tail,” said the young Fenian who had made the trip in that
manner. “Only in that way can he appreciate the pain I bore in coming.”
“The award is just,” declared Avarta. “Get on your ship. When you arrive
in Erin we shall be with you.”
So the Fenians got on their ship and went back as rapidly as sails and
oars could take them. When they landed in Erin the ship disappeared, but
where it had been, the waves parted and the great horse, with fourteen
nobles on its back and the Worthless Servant clinging to its tail, came
out on the shore.
“I have carried out the award,” said Avarta.
“You have,” said Finn. “Now, I pray you, let your men dismount that all
of you may partake of our hospitality.”
There was no answer. Where the horse and men had stood there was
nothing. They had disappeared as a mist taken up by the sun.