'A strange sight, indeed,' replied Mallolwch. 'Did you see anything else?'

'In the centre of this forest, surrounded by it, we saw a mountain. Lightning broke from its brow and its crags were filled with roaring thunder.'

'A storming mountain surrounded by a forest,' mused Mallolwch. 'Coming this way, you say?'

'We do say it. What do you think it means?'

'On my life, I cannot think what it means. But the woman who was my wife is an intelligent being. Let us ask her.'

So the king and his advisers besought her, saying, 'Lady, tell us the meaning of this wonder we have seen.'

Though I am no longer a lady,' she replied, 'I know well enough what it is. Lieu knows it is a sight that has not been known in this worlds-realm for all these many years.'

'Will you tell us yet?'

'I will. It is nothing more nor less than the gathered warband of the Island of the Mighty, sailing to battle. I believe my brother Bran the Blessed has heard of my sore plight and is coming for me.'

'What is this forest we have seen?'

That is the masts and oars and spears of the ships and the warriors on them.'

'What is this mountain?'

That is none other than Bran himself in his towering rage.'

The Irish men heard this and were afraid. 'Lord, you cannot allow them to make war on us. They will slaughter us most frightfully.'

Mallolwch answered them bitterly. 'Lugh knows it is no more than you deserve for the trouble you have caused.'

'Fret us not with that,' the evildoers answered. 'Rather do your duty and protect us.'

'Because of you, that will not be easy to do. By Toutatis, you are a vile lot! I wish I had never known you. Nevertheless, I will do what seems best to me, and it is this: I will offer my kingship to my son, Gwern, Bran's own kin. He will not make war on his sister's son.' With this Mallolwch charged his messengers to bear these words to Bran when he came ashore.

The messengers obeyed and greeted Bran kindly as he waded ashore, his sword naked in his hand. 'What answer shall we take to our lord?' they asked when they had delivered their message.

'Tell your lord he shall have no answer from me until he brings me a better offer than I have heard just now.'

Back went the Irish men to their lord with the sound of ringing steel in their ears. 'Lord and protector,' they said, 'Bran says he will not give you an answer until he hears a better offer than the one you gave just now. Our advice is for you to prepare a better proposal, for we are not lying when we say that he will have none of the one you sent.'

Mallolwch nodded sadly. 'Then tell my brother Bran that I will build him the greatest stronghold this world has ever seen – with a hall big enough to hold all his people in one half, and all of mine in the other. Thus, he shall rule over leme and the Island of the Mighty, with me as his steward.'

The advisers came before Bran with this proposal, which pleased him when he heard it. The result was that he accepted it at once. In this way, peace was made and work begun on the stronghold and its enormous hall.

The men of Ierne toiled away to raise the timber, and they fell to discussing things, as workmen will do. Evnissyen, disguised as a workman, began complaining of the unfairness of Bran, and the harshness of his rule. Inspired by Evnissyen, they were soon saying things like: 'It is not fitting that our lord and king be made a steward in his own realm. This is a great dishonour for him, and for us as well, come to that.'

So the workmen set a trap. On every peg of every timber of the hall they fixed a large leather bag; inside every bag they put one of their most ferocious warriors.

When the hall was finished, Mallolwch sent word to Bran to come and take up residence. Evnissyen heard the summons and made certain to enter the hall before all the others. He scowled at the magnificent hall as if it were the most contemptible shepherd's bothy. And turning his cunning eyes on the leather bag nearest him, he said, 'What is that?'

'Barley,' replied one of the workmen.

On the pretence of examining the grain, Evnissyen reached into the bag, found the warrior's head and squeezed hard until he perceived his fingers crushing bone and sinking into brain.

As he did to that first bag, he did also to each bag in turn, until every one of two hundred warriors were killed and none were left in the land of the living. 'Now,' he smirked to himself, 'let the Irish men find this and they will howl with rage to think what Bran has done to their kinsmen.'

By this time the host had arrived. The men of the Island of the Mighty sat on one side of the great hearth, and the men of Ierne sat on the other. Peace was made and the Irish King removed his tore and held it out to Bran.

When Bran saw this he relented and said, 'I have a tore, lord, and lands and people enough. Only let my sister be reinstated in her proper place and I will be content.'

Mallolwch heard this and wept for joy. 'Truly, you are a blessed man,' he cried. 'You treat me better than I deserve.'

'How should I treat my own kin badly?' answered Bran.

'In token of your honour to me,' said the Irish king, 'let my son, your nephew, be brought forth. He will be crowned in my place, and I will serve him as I would serve you.'

Little Gwern was brought forward, and Mallolwch placed the tore upon his son's neck instead. Everyone who saw the boy loved him, for a more fair and honest boy there never was.

Up spoke Evnissyen, whose spirit writhed within him to behold the amity between the two peoples. 'Why does not my young kinsman come to me for a blessing?' he called, and the boy, fearing no harm, went to him gladly.

Ha! said the evil trickster to himself – be assured there was not the smallest grain of goodness in him – not even Lieu himself could foresee the outrage I will perform next. So saying, he seized the boy and threw him head first into the enormous fire, before anyone could lay a hand on him to stop him.

Bronwen saw the flames close about her dear little son and she cried out in horror and leapt towards him, as if to throw herself into the fire to save him. But there was nothing to be done. The flames were kindled hot and swiftly reduced the child to ashes.

Up jumped the men of Ynys Prydein with a shout. And this shout was echoed by the Irish men who, with Evnissyen's help, had discovered their murdered sword brothers. And never was there a greater commotion in all this worlds-realm than the one that followed, as each man reached for his weapons.

The fight, the battle, the slaughter that was made that night was worse – oh, far, far worse than any since the world began. The din sounded like thunder, the clash like a tempest. Blood rose to the thighs of the warriors and still they slew one another cruelly.

Meanwhile, Evnissyen was not idle. For when the battle raged white-hot, he crept into the shadows, striking here and there, stealing a life with every blow of his poisoned dagger. He saw Bran protecting his sister Bronwen between his shoulder and his shield, and he struck them both from behind, laughing as they fell from his blade.

More good men went to their deaths, and more good women were made widows than heaven has stars. When the men fell, their women took up arms, so that man, woman, and child fought to their deaths.

Bitter was the battle, and bitter the tears that followed. And long, long the mourning.

The sun shone raw and red and the sunrise like a wound in the east when the last foe laid down his arms for ever. Seven men only remained, staring at one another with blood in their eyes and on their hands.

Then the Bent One saw the survivors place the Cauldron of Rebirth upon the hearth, and they began putting the dead into it. Fearing that all his toil would be for nothing, Evnissyen crept in among the bare-bottomed corpses, lay down, and was tumbled into the cauldron with the rest.