‘Well,’ the younger Gael said, ‘if you do deal cruelly with us and do fail to deliver our little lambs to us we will rattle that town with such vengeances and undo all hitherto existing deals as have ever been taken between our two clans until your little place is subdued. We will set up such confusions that you will be undone in your minds, for your minds are so weak they notice many frivolous things all at once, so it does take very little to undo them, and we would have the undoing of you done by midday, I feel. See, even in this is our native generosity, for a Norman would rather punish the child who broke the agreement, but we are not cruel to children, so we will merely visit ourselves upon those who raised, or rather did not raise, the liar, as a corrective to their rearing. We will be the manly fathers to you that your own unmanly fathers were not ever.’

‘Just the one lamb?’ Conn asked.

‘Just a-one,’ the younger Gael said.

Conn was becoming very happy, and then he remembered what his recently deceased mother had told him; how Gaels were inherently deceptive, paying no respect to deals or transactions unless they were made with other Gaels, and even then they would only keep true to a deal if it was with a Gael from their own tiny clan.

‘How do I know this is the truth?’ Conn said. ‘What guarantees have I?’

The younger translated this, and the elder nodded understandingly. Very Delicious Harp then cleared his throat, took a step back, pointed his mouth at the sky and began singing.

The song was plaintive, most of it made up of moaning, wordless sounds, but at times it became lively, at which points all the Gaels would stamp their feet. Conn was at first fascinated by this strange, throaty display, but the song continued until he was almost asleep on his feet. Even the lambs, who until that point had been frozen in fear, fell asleep under the younger Gael’s arms.

The song eventually ended near sunset, and Conn estimated, though he had no means by which to guess the time, that the song had lasted at least a quarter of the day.

‘Very good, but …’ Conn said, once the elder finished the song.

The younger was crying free tears, and Very Delicious Harp was bent over, wheezing and sucking in air like he had been winded.

‘But what?’ said the younger Gael.

‘It doesn’t answer my question,’ Conn said. ‘How do I know you will keep your word?’

The younger sighed, tutted and turned his eyes upwards. ‘That is how you know.’