I know very little of kine. This bull is huge and impressive looking. I like the looks of him. The cattleman tells me the creature is in his prime and promises many fine calves. He unties the rope and parades the bull back and forth so I can have a good look at him. The beast seems strangely docile compared to our own prize bull Tine, who is known for his dangerous bursts of temper.

The cattleman speaks in short, terse bursts as if he is on edge. We are among the last people left on the festival grounds. Perhaps that's why. He wants to make the trade and be on his way home.

"Where was this bull's home?" I ask suddenly.

"The green pastures near Lough Gur," the man replies smoothly.

"Manach clan, aren't you? You've come a long way! Just to sell this bull?"

He takes a deep breath and only answers after another quick glance at Fenian. He's been constantly peeking over at Fen, who has shown little interest in the bull. MacMorna is with him now and they have strolled over to examine the animal more closely.

"I'm leaving the island," the cattleman tells me with a shrug. "This bull is the last of my kine. My brothers have already gone over the sea and I'll be joining them. Now, have we agreed on a price?"

This sets me off into yet another round of haggling. I can't help it, I just love to barter. One more back-and-forth closes the sale.

Meantime, Belenus has found us. He and some of our war band of three-nines are gathered nearby, ready to return to Inver Colpa. The rest will stay here at Tara under the Ard Righ's command for the duration of the summer.

The men draw lots to determine who will have the dubious honor of escorting the bull to his new home.

"One more question. Does he have a name?" I ask the Manach.

His jaw clenches slightly and his eyes go skyward as if searching there for the answer. "He never really answered to a name. Call him what you like," he replies carelessly. Now that we've shaken hands and made our exchanges, he is even more distracted than ever. I notice a darkhaired woman lingering nearby, a pack on her shoulder. No wonder he's anxious to be finished with this business.

"Safe journey to you," I bid him a polite farewell. He answers kindly enough, but as he turns quickly away, there is an odd smirk on his face that gives me the distinct feeling he's gotten away with something here.