At this thought he became gloomy, and wished to turn back. His mother had, however, laid him under another promise, which was that he was never to turn back. Remembering this, he went on until he came to Dundalk, by the sea.
In Dundalk, Conall the Victorious, riding in a chariot, stopped him upon the road and saluted him, saying:
'Young man, come up with me into the chariot, and tell me where dost thou come from, what is thy name, and what thou seekest.'
'Gladly would I ride,' said Conla, 'but I may not answer thy questions.'
'Why not?'
'I am bound not to tell my history.'
'And who bound thee?'
'I must not tell.'
'Neither shalt thou ride with me.'
'I can run as fast.'
'I warrant thou hast had practice at running.'
'If thy meaning is that I run away from enemies, I can tell thee that I have not yet learnt to do so. Wilt thou teach me?'
'Ay, easily! '
'Master, I thank thee.'
'But wilt thou fight?'
'Certainly!'
So Conla and Conall fought, and Conla was a stronger and cleverer fighter than Conall, and ended by striking his sword out of his hand. Looking into Conall's woebegone face, he said, laughing, 'I cannot run away from a man without a sword, O warrior.'
At this moment came up another chief and, with a smile, picked up Conall's sword from the grass, and gave it to him, asking:
