does. Give me thine arm to lean on; I am tired, Aonan, I am old, and an end has come to my pleasure in slaying . . . . Coloman!"
They were in Coloman's chamber now, and the Druid turned from star-gazing to greet the King, with a new dark look in his gentle face. "Coloman, how does thy mother do now? She had grown too bold in her pride, but we did not slay her because of Aonan here. How works our medicine that we designed to temper her beauty?"
"Well, lord. No man will kiss my mother's beauty more."
"Good: now she will turn her feet into ways of gentleness, perhaps. Thou boldest me a grudge for this medicine o' mine, my son Coloman?"
"Lord, she is my mother," the Druid said, looking down.
"The scars will heal," Cathal said; "but—Aonan here has only seen her beautiful. Coloman, wouldst thou have him see her scarred and foul to see?"
"No, lord," the Druid said fiercely. Cathal laughed.
"Have a gift of me, then, O Coloman," he said. "Spare him from sight of a marred beauty, in what way thou canst. I give thee his eyes for thy mother's scars."
The two young men looked at each other steadily: then Aonan spoke. "Take the payment that the King offers thee, Coloman, without fear: a debt is a debt."
"And the debt is heavy."
Coloman said hoarsely: "Lord, wilt thou go and leave Aonanna-Righ to me? And wilt thou send to me thy cunning men, Flathartach and Fadhar? I must have help."
"Aonan-na-Righ will not hinder thee, Coloman," said the King, mockingly. "He desires greatly to meet with his mother: and do thou commend me also to the Lady Eivir, whom I wedded first, and who loved me well."
“Call