…As the spencers rose to serve the food, the charioteer of Connor Cruel-Crest stood up and addressed the king, “O Far Seeing One,” he said, “many are the feats of Connor; majestic and commanding his gait, clashing swords he brings together, and in front of them he strides in glory to destroy all before him; in battles of blood, the pride of armies he hews, mowing down hosts of his foe-men; ever hostile is his hand, and many the mighty victories he has scored for Albion.
Do you assign to Connor the Champion’s Portion, he alone is entitled to it before all the other heroes of Albion?”
“That is not so !” Cried the charioteer of Long-Horn O’Leary, leaping to his feet, “to O’Leary should the Champion’s Portion be assigned, he alone before any other man of Albion is deserving of it: sprung from loins that are royal, fostered in warrior virtues; more famous than all Albion’s heroes, the guardian of every ford-way; big is his shield, it protects from wounds, his friends he defends from their foe-men;by O’Leary’s hand are they held, equal in every strength, all noble.”
Father Fish called down from his sun bower, “the Champion’s Portion of Red-Hill-Hall is not that of a fool’s or a dullard’s house, who do you prefer for valour?” Whereupon the whole assembly ran for their shields and seized their weapons: within the space of a gnat’s eye-blink the hall was aflame with the clash of sword edge and spear point, and the floor became a white sheet of shield enamel.
Said Father Fish from his sun bower, “Why, ‘tis a bad look-out tonight and no mistake!”…