So at last I am face to face with the Cumhaill war chief. A bloody rage rushes to my head and I reach for my sword. No one pushes Dobhar and lives to brag about it! Then my hand pauses on the hilt as I consider the penalty for drawing a weapon during a sacred feast. The next thing I know, I am face down in the muddy track made by the parade of livestock and people and there is the music of battle all around me.