The shock of grief brought on the woman’s labour and she delivered a boy child a few weeks early. Medb thought Ethne might have died of grief herself, except for the child who held her to the world. He lived, but was frail. Medb went to Ethne and asked if she would suckle her child also. Ethne’s breasts ran with milk and her own boy took little.

«Why not?» Ethne said.

Medb made her bargain but she also saw Ethne’s eyes were dark with fear as she looked at her own child. If he died she would have nothing. She would cleave to Medb’s young one.

«You will have the keeping of him,» Medb assured her. «I will be busy with other things.»

She was within days of her time. She had been doing women’s easy tasks for a few weeks, carding and spinning wool, for she was heavy and awkward, but now she took up her sword practice again and went to run down game in the forest. It was no surprise to anyone when her labour pains started. Nor was it much of a surprise when her bearing was quick and easy and a big, strong man-child howled on her belly.

The women sent to Conchobar as soon as Medb was clean, and he came and looked at his son. «What will you name him?» Medb asked.

Conchobar scowled, but his expression softened when his eyes rested on the child. «Name him Glaisne,» he said, and turned and left the house. Medb watched him go. That he had named the boy was important and during the months of their silent, wary truce she had discovered some worth in Conchobar. He ruled his people well. She had learned much sitting beside him as Banríon of Ulster.

Ethne had attended the delivery and when Conchobar was gone she took up the child and cleaned him and wrapped him. Glaisne took the breast she offered and suckled hard.

«I will watch over him,» Ethne said, and Medb turned on her side and slept.

In a week, Medb was well recovered. After that she was seldom in the house. She was giving all her attention to her weapons practice and her herd, which had diminished under the care of Conchobar’s herdsmen. Seeking widely in the pasturage, she found three calves — with the red and white markings of her cows — separated from their mothers. For a moment she fingered the knife on her belt, but then dropped her hand and instead sent her youngest lover to Tara to bring back servants bound only to her.

Medb would not abide treachery. Three things she required of a husband: that he be without fear, meanness or jealousy. Conchobar was brave enough and he took no revenge on the men she now and again took to her bed. But it is mean to steal from a wife’s herd to keep her subservient. He had taken her cattle; she would take his son as soon as he was weaned. But when she returned to her house at the time when usually she was at weapons practice, she found Conchobar bent over the child’s cradle.

Knife in hand, Medb stepped silently towards her husband. To harm his own son just because she was Glaisne’s mother.

But now, close enough, she heard Conchobar’s soft murmur of praise, of love. What held him bent over the cradle with a hand outstretched was no desire to do harm but the tight grip of baby fingers on his thumb.

So Medb waited warily, and the men she had bound to her by lust and by admiration and by the judicious giving of rings and armlets watched her back and helped her avoid strange accidents. She waited a whole year longer, until Glaisne had teeth in his mouth and toddled among the men, already reaching for their bright attractions, their swords, their knives.

She waited until she saw Conchobar teaching the boy with more patience than she suspected he had. Then in the autumn of the year when Conchobar rode out hunting she called the men who answered to her, gathered up her possessions — the silver plates and cups, the gold armbands and neck torcs, the embroidered linens and fur-trimmed wool mantles — and bade her herdsmen drive her cattle south, to Tara.

Eochaid Feidleach was not overjoyed to see her, but he was in contention with Tinni mac Conri, Rí of Connacht, and when Medb offered to lead the men who had come with her in Eochaid’s support he agreed. She did so well that when Tinni was driven out, Eochaid gave Connacht and the dun at Cruachan into Medb’s hands.

For almost a month Medb watched from the walls for a dark-haired, dark-eyed warrior with just her equal of goods. When he did not come, she laughed at herself for being a fool and wondered instead what it would be like to utterly rule her husband. So she welcomed Tinni back into Cruachan and into her bed, making sure he got no child upon her.

That was no success. Although Tinni raised no challenge to her, she learned that her father had not put the man out for nothing. He was useless in the defence of the lands and people of Connacht against any active threat, and he was not honest; he stole, an armband here a neck torc there, to buy warriors. Medb only learned that after he was gone, but it taught her that a husband without possessions was no better than a husband richer than she.

She was rid of Tinni without much effort though. It so happened that Eochaid Dála had conceived a hot desire for her during the war against Tinni and he came and challenged Tinni for his place. Medb made no protest, although she did not yet know Tinni had robbed her; she had no distaste for Eochaid and was pleased to take him to her bed and share with him the rule of Connacht.

Yet she still took care not to conceive although she knew she would need an heir for Connacht. She did not know for what she was waiting until, in the spring of the fifth year since she had come to be Conchobar’s wife, she came to the central of the seven doors of Cruachan to welcome a visitor — and her gaze met the hot eyes of Ailill mac Máta.

«You are a little late in coming to find me,» Medb said, Eochaid standing behind her and staring at the black hair and black eyes of her guest.

Ailill bowed his head. «I will tell you why, Medb of Cruachan, but not now when it would seem I was excusing myself for not holding to my word. When you have cause to trust me better I will tell you. Now I will offer my services in what capacity you wish to use me.»

She looked him over as she would a horse offered for sale, except that she did not examine his teeth. There was no need for that; they shone white and strong in his dark face when he smiled. But scrawny was not a word that fitted him now — as even Conchobar would have admitted the phrase no longer suited Medb either. Ailill’s limbs were thick with corded muscle, his chest deep and strong, and his shoulders were three axe-handles wide.

«Conchobar has not forgiven me for leaving him and taking with me my possessions,» Medb said. «Though they do not wear his plaids, raiders come from Ulster to steal my cattle and harass my farmers. I have need of fighting men to protect my land.»

Ailill bowed his head again. «As you order, Rí.»

Behind her, Medb heard Eochain Dála mutter discontent. Although she did not turn, his grumblings did not please her. Eochaid seemed to think that because they were bedmates he had a lock on her body, which was pure foolishness. Her body was hers to seek pleasure with but more important, it was goods with which she won loyalty and paid for debts and favours, just as were the rings on her fingers or the armlets she wore. Any man who wished to be her husband needed to be free of jealousy as well as brave and generous.

But she did not pay Ailill with that coin, and although he ate her with his eyes whenever they came together, he gave no sign of asking for that favour.

Within a month she noticed the men of the dun tended to look towards Ailill rather than Eochaid whenever an action was planned. And over that time she had noticed that the men who served with Ailill came back from their protective forays in better spirits and with fewer injuries. Before the second month of Ailill’s return was ended, a deputation came to her to ask that she make Ailill chief of her warband.

This Medb did gladly, lifting a thick torc of gold from her neck and leaning forward to place it around Ailill’s. He did not look at the gold symbol of power as she offered it; he looked at her bare throat and at the swell of her breasts and he wiped sweat from his upper lip when he bent his head to receive the symbol of his new authority.

Eochaid was not pleased and he whispered to Medb that Ailill and the men he had brought with him out of Erna exaggerated their successes against the raiders from Ulster. He told of secret arrangements between Ailill and Conchobar’s troops that they cease raiding now and when he was seated on the throne beside Medb he would give them her cattle as if they had been won as prizes of war.

Only the men bound to Medb herself did not confirm Eochaid’s warnings and so Medb met the glance of the dark eyes, saw the pink tongue touch the lips in the swarthy face and shook her head at Eochaid Dála.

«No,» she said, laughing. «Cattle are not the pay Ailill mac Máta desires of me. I will not outlaw him on your word. My own men say he is a leader with whom they are content.»

Others came to her also, a few she suspected were in Eochaid’s pay, but she would listen to none of them and her gaze locked more and more often on that of Ailill when he sat just below her on the drinking benches. They laughed at the same jests, and Eochaid’s expression grew blacker and blacker.

Eochaid and Ailill did not ride together and did not know each other’s strength. Ailill, obedient to Medb’s warning of trouble from Conchobar, rode north and east towards Ulster; Eochaid rode mostly south and west to guard against those of Casil. The Casili had no grudge against Medb but they saw no harm in picking up a cow for slaughter that had not come from their herds, or a pig or a pretty farmer’s daughter. Medb rode with a smaller escort, less to fight, although she gave a good account of herself when necessary, than to look over all the lands and the people.

Although Eochaid did his duty well enough, Medb thought less of him as a ruler. He spent too much time trying to rid Connacht of Ailill and too little judging crops and grazing lands. Half the women in the dun threw themselves at Ailill and he welcomed every one with good-humoured indifference, but the hunger in his eyes did not lessen a jot when he looked at Medb. As important, neither women nor that hunger took his attention from the crops and the pasturage or made him a less wise judge of his men and the people.

Unable to turn Medb against her favourite, Eochaid set traps for Ailill, which he avoided and commented on with amusement, enraging Eochaid further. Moreover, Medb was not amused and denied Eochaid her bed until, she said, he should understand that who she slept with was at her discretion alone.

Eochaid then saw that if Ailill died by attack or accident, Medb would blame him. So Eochaid set an open challenge on Ailill. With this, Medb did not meddle; nor did she show any preference when she came to watch the fight.

It did not last long. In a hundred heartbeats Eochaid knew himself to be outmatched. Whereupon he made a fatal error. He desired to mark Ailill before he yielded and launched a fiery attack. Ailill did not match it with defence but with an attack of his own.

Eochaid had his desire; his sword bit lightly on Ailill’s left shoulder, but his extended weapon opened a path. This Ailill leaped upon — his sword struck down. Eochaid was cloven from where his neck met his shoulder down to his breastbone. The jugular was sliced clean through. Blood burst in a fountain over Ailill’s sword and arm, even over his face as he drew his sword out of the wound and the body fell towards him.

«You killed him!» Medb had arrived so quickly that she too was spattered with blood and her eyes were round with shock. «He was not a bad man, just not enough for me. Did you need to kill him?»

«Yes.» Ailill’s breath was still coming hard and his own blood trickled down his left arm. «He called you wife. I will suffer no other man to call you wife.»

«If I take you in marriage, you think you will be the only man ever to lie in my bed?»

Ailill laughed. «Mother Dana forbid. I know you may drop a favour here and there for curiosity or to pay a debt or tie a cord around a man’s heart. That will cause me no pain so long as I know I give you pleasure also.»

Medb stepped back, away from the body that lay on the ground. She glanced down, made a gesture to summon Eochaid’s men to take him up and fit him for burial. Then she looked back at Ailill.

«How would I know that? Your eyes promise, but you have never sought to fulfil that promise. You seek to share the rule of Connacht. Agreed you have saved me much loss in protecting my lands, but if I share what is mine with you, we will both be poor.»