In the dark dawn after the raid, Naoise found himself laying in a shelter that cows had hollowed out of broken braches against the weather, he was nursing his broken heel and he had a large bruise over his temple where the raider had hit him in the tower. He watched the smoke coming over the far off hill of Dun. All he could think of was the scene of devastation he had witnessed the day before, he thought of brother Aidán and all the other monks who had been so kind to him. A cold fear tightened his heart, pulling himself up and began to crawl back up the slope away from the monastery; screams faintly drifted on the wind. He had crawled as far as his injuries had let him, and was still in great pain, " I hope Brother Aidán and Malachi have fared well, I could do with there help now " he half sobbed to him self.

From his vantage point, Naoise could see the boats of the Vikings tied up at the bottom of the hill , he could make out a great deal of coming and going between the rath and the monastery and boats on the shore, and realized that the raiders were taking the people of the rath as slaves. "If only there was something I could do to help hem "Naoise cried to himself, watching in helpless horror.
"I wonder where the warriors are hunting, if they could be got back maybe we could fight them", but he knew that was wishful thinking as he could not even stand never mind go for help. He lay for some time, in his refuge, watching the movements on the shore, before he began the aching journey to find some of his own people.

He felt sick with dizziness; his wounded head throbbed with pain, the silence in the countryside all around him was unnerving, except for the distant screams which rang out less and less as the daylight grew brighter. He began to crawl up the steep slope, but the heat of the day was too much for him and he sat exhausted in the shade, when close by he heard a low moan. Creeping closer to the heap, he pulled aside the brambles and briars, and found a brown shape, hunched over with pain. "Who are you brother? Do you know what has happened, are their many survivors, “said Naoise, as he bent over the prone form on the ground and helped him to lift his head up. A crumpled brown face, a mass of scratches and dried blood looked up at him. " Water, please water" croaked a voice distorted by pain Naoise, felt in his stomach lurch as he recognised the face of brother Malachi , his thin gentle face battered and bruised. "Brother Malachi, it’s me Naoise, are you badly hurt, how can I help you, I saw the raiders coming up the hill and rang the bell, but I was knocked out, everything was on fire when I came round, I managed to get out of the tower but I could not help any one.
Naoise helped brother Malachi to sit up, the old monk seemed to have aged twenty years since the night before, he looked dazedly at Naoise. “Do you not know me brother, it’s me Naoise, remember you helped me when I broke my foot, I’ll try to get some water you just lie here quietly and I will be back soon” and he turned and looked around him at the trails of smoke still blowing over the hill, and wondered what to do. With the Norse, still so close nearby, he dare not go near the monastery or the rath. He had nothing to hold water in; he did not know where there was a well to get water from. What was he to do, he had to find a way to get away from here, but it did not look like brother Malachi could walk, not that his ankle could take him far either. Beside him Brother Malachi moaned, looking closer Naoise saw a deep wound on his scalp, “ If only brother Aidán was here he would know what to do “, he though to himself.
From where he was he could see the Viking boats were now out in the deeper water of the lough, they seemed to be setting sail. The sun was now high above them; Naoise felt a great thirst and hunger, but he had to think what to do.
“ Brother Malachi, you just lie quietly in the shade here, I’m going off to find some water and get you some help, but I will be back as quickly as ever I can”, Naoise helped the old monk lie back, making him as comfortable as possible ,he covered him over with the bracken and brambles.
I was some time later when he reached the top of the hill opposite the hill of Keltair, the smoke was still heavy in the air, and there was no sign of any one among the ruins. Naoise propped himself up against a tree, and looked at his ankle, the purple bruise was now above the bandage that brother Aidan had put on the day before, it was now right up to his shin. His head felt light and the dizziness made him feel sick, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his belly ached with emptiness, he felt a the blackness rushing to meet him, as if he had fallen into a ditch. He came round to a familiar voice and a feeling of warmth, “ Naoise , you are all right “, it kept going round and round in his head, and when he open his eyes he saw the smiling face of brother Aidán, beaming down at him. Some one held a flask of water to his lips and he drank gratefully. “That’s a nasty cut you’ve got, on your head. Naoise, lay still and let me look at you”, Brother Aidán hands were probing the wound on his head, he gentle rolled Naoise head from side to side. “We need to get that cleaned up, you have another lump behind your ear, when I get my medicine from the infirmary I will be able to help you better, if it is still standing” brother Aidán sighed.
Above him Naoise could see two or three monks he recognised from the day before. After a few minutes, he said “Brother Aidán, thank the lord, you have been spared. I thought you were dead, there were so many bodies last night, and this morning I watched the Vikings take away people in the boats. I have found brother Malachi, he is hurt badly and I have hidden him in the bushes not far from here”, said Naoise as he tried to sit up. “Thanks to God, praise to him, I have prayed for that, where is he Naoise, tell us quickly, your not able to go and get him, tell us and we will be off”, said Aidán.
Naoise thought for a minute, “Brother Malachi, I left him under some bracken and brambles, there is a large ash tree, to one side and over a bit is an oak, there is a large holly and some hazels in a thicket, it is on the third slope from here facing the mountains”, he said .
“Thank you Naoise, I will be off, Ulann here will stay and help you, we will be back soon, rest until then” said Aidán and he turned and was off down the hill and away.

It was some time later that Naoise woke up to see brother Malachi asleep beside him, nearby were some others, he knew their faces, but could not recall their names, his head ached as he tried to remember, but sleep took him away again.
He had strange dreams, off being lifted up by angels and carried high in the air, he could hear singing, all was bright and cold, sometimes it was dark and the heat of hell burned his skin and his brain ached, as deep voices cursed him in weird a language full of guttural screeches. Then he woke and his head seemed clear and there was no pain, just a great weakness when he tried to stand up. Then a familiar kind voice said, “No, boy it’s too soon to get up, you have been ill with a brain fever, from the wound to your head, can you not remember. Can you not remember the night of the great fire when the church, was attacked and burned by the Viking raiders, and you rung the bell and warned us all. Naoise you saved most of us. You climbed the tower and rung the bell with your injured foot. But now you must rest and eat, Ill bring your some broth you need to get your strength back. To-morrow will be the time for news”, Brother Aidán was bending over him and holding a flask of water to his lips. “Drink this, I will be back in a minute”.
The next time he awoke, he felt much stronger and was able to get up and walk shakily to door of his cell, looking out he could see he was in the same place he had been before the raid. The tower still cast its long shadow across the courtyard, but the buildings that surrounded it had lost their roofs, all around him was a hive of great activity, as monks and men hurried here and there carrying long planks of wood and bundles of reeds. He hobbled out in to the dazzling daylight, and found the stone bench set in the wall, that he had stood on the night of the raid to admire the moonlight, it seemed like another person had done that. It was very pleasant to sit in the sun and watch all the people work, a brother who was passing with a tray of newly baked rolls stopped to give him one, while another brought him a flask of cold water.
Looking down at his ankle he could see, the bruise was now pale yellow and fading, he wondered how long he had lain asleep. He sat watching the activity all a round him and found himself dozing off, when he heard a familiar bark and saw a dark shape come flying across the courtyard, a tail wagging ecstatically as a great furry bundle jumped into his arms, a wet tongue washing his cheeks with an enthusiastic lick. ”Bran, oh boy ,Bran I missed you,” Bran barked and barked and ran round and round jumping up at every turn, Naoise rubbed his fur with happiness and Bran wagged his tail furiously rolling over to get his belly rubbed. ”

Well Naoise Bran missed you, he was pining away up the hill with out you, but I what exciting things have you been up to”, Rory asked as he sat bedside him on the stone bench. “I‘ve been hearing of how you got the warning bell rung before the raiders got here. It must have been some night I saw the red glow in the sky up on the hill and I could see the boats sail away the next day, but I did not hear about the raid until Danna came and told me. Bran has missed you he was whining for you all the time; he looked for you constantly among the sheep. There has been no other sighting of the wolf, hopefully that is the last we see of him for this season”.

In the weeks and months following, the attack on the monastery, the local chief Báetáin, ordered building of ships, the preparation of weapons of all kinds needed to fight the fair-haired raiders from the north. All around the hills, the crack of wood resounded, as trees fell, heavy axes splitting them into chunks, and the whining of sawing and hammers that jointed the frames that formed the ships that would defend their shores around their coastline. In the glowing red heat of the forge, swords, axes, arrows heads emerged as if from the magic of fire, the clang of hammers on metal resonated and the men rejoiced at the music of work.