"I will guard Tara this night, O king," said the boy Fionn, "and I pledge my word that no hurt shall happen to it."
A ripple of laughter rang through the hall when the boy stood up and spoke so bravely, taking upon himself the defence of Tara, which not even the most courageous man there would do that one particular night of the year. The king regarded Fionn steadfastly, and some glint in the boy's blue eyes, and a curious light which now and again flashed and shone round his head, brought hope to Conn's heart that this night Tara would not be doomed.
"I accept your pledge," said the king, "for though your years are only those of a boy, your spirit is that of a hero. If you fail—and many great warriors have failed before—to avert from Tara the desolation that has fallen upon it so often, I shall not hold you less heroic. If you succeed I will give you lands and wealth, and in addition I will bestow on you the chieftainship of Ireland's Fianna, which Goll mac Morna holds. But tell me now, by what means will you conquer this powerful enchanter?"
