‘It is not feasible to prevent it,’ says Ingcél: ‘clouds of weakness come to you. A keen ordeal which will endanger two cheeks of a goat will be opposed by the oath of Fer rogain, who will run. Thy voice, O Lomna,’ says Ingcél, ‘hath taken breaking upon thee: thou art a worthless warrior, and I know thee. Clouds of weakness come to you.’
[...] to a lord's house early tomorrow morning.
Easier [...] death on a heavy-host house [...] to the world's end
‘Neither old men nor historians shall declare that I quitted the Destruction, until I shall wreak it.’