A Book of Myths, by Jean Lang - Umnet

delivered his message, and when he had spoken of the beauty of
Deirdrê, rumour of his speech had reached the king, and the spears of
Conor's men had enabled him to make true the words he had said to
Deirdrê: "I will pay for it with my life." In this way was shed the first
blood of that great sea of blood that was spilt for the love of Deirdrê,
the Beauty of the World.
From where the swineherd lay, Lavarcam went to the camp of the Sons
of Usna, and to Naoise she told the story of the love that Deirdrê bore
him, and counselled him to come to the place where she was hidden,
and behold her beauty. And Naoise, who had seen how even a rough
clod of a hind could achieve the noble chivalry of a race of kings for
her dear sake, felt his heart throb within him. "I will come," he said to
Lavarcam.
Days passed, and Deirdrê waited, very sure that Naoise must come to
her at last. And one day she heard a song of magical sweetness coming
through the trees. Three voices sung the song, and it was as though one
of the sidhe played a harp to cast a spell upon men. The voice of Ainle,
youngest of the Sons of Usna, was like the sweet upper strings of the
harp, that of Ardan the strings in the middle, and the voice of Naoise
was like the strings whose deep resonance can play upon the hearts of
warriors and move them to tears. Then Deirdrê knew that she heard the
voice of her beloved, and she sped to him as a bird speeds to her mate.
Even as Lavarcam had told her was Naoise, eldest of the Sons of Usna,
but no words had been able to tell Naoise of the beauty of Deirdrê.
"It was as though a sudden flood of sunshine burst forth in that place.
For a woman came from the thicket more beautiful than any dream he
had ever dreamed. She was clad in a saffron robe over white that was
like the shining of the sun on foam of the sea, and this was claspt with
great bands of yellow gold, and over her shoulders was the rippling
flood of her hair, the sprays of which lightened into delicate fire, and
made a mist before him, in the which he could see her eyes like two
blue pools wherein purple shadows dreamed."
Fiona Macleod.