they were nights of ill-omen. Each morning when they rose Oscur's banner of white silk, embroidered with a slender rowan-tree and clusters of flaming berries, had fallen to the ground, and each night the camp was surrounded by a sorrowful moaning sound, as though hosts of unseen beings were lamenting the fall of noble heroes. On the morning of the third day Fionn sent heralds to Cairbre, announcing his intention to open the battle, and the armies arrayed themselves against each other.
But before they entered the battle the Fians knelt on the ground and kissed it; then raised the warrior cry. Afterwards they flung themselves against the great army of King Cairbre, and the bards say that so fierce was the fight that three showers rose over their heads in the strife: a shower of fire from their spears, a shower of sparks from their clashing shields, and a shower of blood from their wounds.
Oscur and his Fians went backwards and forwards through the hosts of Cairbre, searching for the Clan Morna, determined to end now
