8:99) Dirk Flinthart 28-JAN-98 5:46

When the hero Cuchulainn learned he would die in that final battle, he did not turn aside, but dressed himself in his finest wargear, and bade his charioteer Laeg to do likewise, and over the weeping of his women, went to war. Amongst the men of Maeve, who came as foes to the fief of Ulster, where the Hound held his home, there were the sons of the Wizard Calatin. Many were they, yet one. And they bore with them a bright-bladed spear, with weal to work.

When the wild warcries rose about them, the sons of the wizard Calatin gave the spear to a warrior, and spoke: "This spear shall slay a king," they said.

"Well it shall be," answered the warrior, and the spear was cast at Cuchulainn, the Hound of Ulster. But the spear did not hurt him, striking in his stead his great horse, the Grey of Emain. Hardforged steel struck true the steed's heart. Bright blood burst from his mouth, and the Grey of Emain died there on the field.

Then the warrior retrieved his spear and turned to the sons of the Wizard Calatin.

"Now you have slain the king of horses," said the Sons of the Wizard Calatin. "Cast again. You shall yet slay a king."

Once more the bright spear flew at the Hound of Ulster in his chariot, and again it turned aside from his battle fury, cleaving the chest of the charioteer Laeg.

And again, the warrior recovered the spear.

"Now you have killed the king of charioteers," spoke the Sons of the Wizard Calatin, "but cast again, and watch! You will slay a king indeed."

A third time the spear flew, and this final cast was more true than those before. It entered the belly of Cuchulainn, and it is written that all his entrails fell into the chariot at his feet, next to the body of his charioteer.

But the battle-fury was upon him, and Cuchulainn cared nothing for the wound. He took up the spear and cast it back, and the warrior who had first thrown it was driven into the earth by the force of the blow.

Even the Hound of Ulster must know his death wound, though, and even thus it was with Cuchulainn. Gathering his entrails into his body, he took up the body of the Grey of Emain, and his second horse, the Black of Macha drew the gore-stained chariot to a nearby lake.

There it was that Cuchulainn washed himself, and combed his fine, black hair. And when he was again clean as a warrior should rightly be, with a belt he bound his body to a stone that stood on the shore, and with sword in hand, waited the will of his foes.

They were not long in coming. The host of Maeve gathered around the body of the hero, but none amongst them dared come close. About his head the hero-light yet played, and though his wound gaped wide, his eyes were bright and the sword was steady in his hand.

Then at last, a crow landed upon the white shoulder of the Hound, and with courage no man yet knew, plucked an eye from its place in the head.

Surely the Hound of Ulster was dead.