Then stood Conn the bold square before the door.
Collum knew well that Conn would pass his way.
Well he knew the words of truth,
Born from happier times, free from fear,
Times when Druid or Bard would wander
The land's long length,
Their words alone, safe passage.
A decision made, his spear was raised
And his arm outstretched for Conn to take.
Then both men stood arm to arm,
The warmth of battle-brothers firing their hearts,
The joy of ale to come and bread in the stew,
The tales of old memory flowing free
As a spring's sun-filled bubbles.
"Enter within, friend," said Collum.
"You'll find all at feast in the clan-hall."


Animal movements rustling in the dark,
Snuffling and bleats told Conn where he was.
Low walls of rough stone surrounded
Dark shapes of wattle, mud and thatch
Enwreathed in night-time fire smoke
As noises of tired people drifted on the air.
In the centre around a warm, ruddy glow
The largest dark shape loomed in front of him,
A sharp mound deeping against the stars.
Conn strode to the door, ancient wood ajar,
And halted he there to find his centre.
Decision of a sudden, he thrust out his hand
Striding forward from chill air into warm air,
From warm comradeship into chill stares.

Slán