It was at that time, now, there was great war between Lir of Sidhe Fionnachaidh and Ilbrec of Ess Ruadh.  There used a bird with an iron beak and a tail of fire to come every evening to a golden window of Ilbrec’s house, and there he would shake himself till he would not leave sword on pillow, or shield on peg, or spear in rack, but they would come down on the heads of the people of the house; and whatever they would throw at the bird, it is on the heads of some of themselves it would fall.  And the night Caoilte came in, the hall was made ready for a feast, and the bird came in again, and did the same destruction as before, and nothing they threw at him would touch him at all.  “Is it long the bird has been doing this?” said Caoilte.  “Through the length of a year now,” said Derg, “since we went to war with Sidhe Fionnachaidh.”

Then Caoilte put his hand within the rim of his shield, and he took out of it a copper rod he had, and he made a cast of it at the bird, that brought it down on the floor of the hall.  “Did any one ever make a better cast than that?” said Ilbrec.  “By my word,” said Caoilte, “there is no one of us in the Fianna has any right to boast against another.”  Then Ilbrec took down a sharp spear, having thirty rivets of gold in it, from its place, and he said:  “That is the Spear of Fiacha, son of Congha, and it is with that Finn made an end of Aillen, son of Midhna, that used to burn Teamhair.  And keep it beside you now, Caoilte,” he said, “till we see will Lir come to avenge his bird on us.”

Then they took up their horns and their cups, and they were at drinking and pleasure, and Ilbrec said:  “Well, Caoilte,” he said, “if Lir comes to avenge his bird on us, who will you put in command of the battle?” “I will give the command to Derg there beyond,” said he.  “Will you take it in hand, Derg?” said the people of the hill.  “I will take it,” said Derg, “with its loss and its gain.”

So that is how they spent the night, and it was not long in the morning till they heard blowing of horns, and rattling of chariots, and clashing of shields, and the uproar of a great army that came all about the hill.  They sent some of their people out then to see were there many in it, and they saw three brave armies of the one size.  “It would be a great vexation to me,” said Aedh Nimbrec, the Speckled, then, “we to get our death and Lir’s people to take the hill.”  “Did you never hear, Aedh,” said Caoilte, “that the wild boar escapes sometimes from both hounds and from wolves, and the stag in the same way goes away from the hounds with a sudden start; and what man is it you are most in dread of in the battle?” he said.  “The man that is the best fighter of all the Men of Dea,” said they all, “and that is Lir of Sidhe Fionnachaidh.”  “The thing I have done in every battle I will not give up to-day,” said Caoilte, “to meet the best man that is in it hand to hand.”  “The two that are next to him in fighting,” they said then, “are Donn and Dubh.”  “I will put down those two,” said Derg.