In the blackness Lugh awoke, around him in the darkness he felt the the soft breath of his small brothers as they slept, silently he slid out of bed, gathering his clothes together he sneaked out to meet his friends, taking care not to waken his father and mother, who lay sleeping nearby in the round hut they shared. Out side the chill dawn air hit him like a slap and shivering he dragged his tunic over his head and wrapped his woolen brat (cloak) around him, he could just make out the shady outline of his friend Oran, as he emerged from his hut a short distance away, he called softy to him."Hi Oran are ye all set, any sign of Maél yet?". A yawning Oran grunted in response, as the soft footfalls of Maél approached out of the shadows. They found the bundles they had hidden the night before and Maél began to rummage in his to find his brat , "I didn't’t think it would be this cold so early, glad you told us to pack something warm Lugh" said Maél as he wrapped it around himself.

"I thought me ma was going to wake up and stop me, she let out a big snore just as I opened the door, but she just turned over and went back to sleep. If she knew I was off, she would have a list of chores an arm long for me to do," said Oran, as he climbed over the stile that separated the rath from the wood that led down a worn path to the Lough below, and followed Lugh into the darkness.

Murky shadows altered the trees that grew thickly on the rath where the boys lived, into giants, and the forlorn cry of the curlew that filled the leaden air, added to the strangeness of the early dawn,the younger boys had never been out on their own, in the woods so early, this was an adventure. In the east, the gray sky was lightening, shot with vivid streaks of red gold as the summer sun began to rise. A slight breeze quivered the leaves as the woods around them began to stir, as the birds began their chorus to the dawn. Brambles caught at them, as they raced downhill, through nettles clumps, the scent of bluebells wafted around them, as they scrunched them underfoot, and through the trees, they caught glimpses of the lough, its dark still surface, like a mirror held to the light, slowly turning liquid gold, as the day broke. Laughing elatedly they ran down the slope to where the curraghs were laid up on the grass .

Lugh had his own small curragh that he and his father had made the summer before, this was his pride and joy and he loved its sleek lines, his mother had promised him a sail, but was still weaving it. There was nothing better for him than to be skimming along, on the water's of Lough Cuan, the sea lough in North East Ireland where they lived. "Right Oran, grab that end and carry it down, have you got the hold of it all right." Lugh instructed as they, turned the small curragh over, and carried it to the waters edge, closely followed by Maél, who stowed their sacks in the bottom, before wading into the cold shallows to shove the boat out into the water. They clambered in and Lugh used the oars like a pole to push them into deeper water, then paddling easily, he steered a passage through the many small boats moored in the sheltered bay, that stood in a hollow at the bottom of the hill.

Their home was on the steeply wooded hill, of Dún-Lethglaise, that had at its summit a small church, where Patrick, the Saint of Ireland, is reputed, to be have been buried, four hundred years before. This was surrounded on three sides by the water of Lough Cuan, which mingled with the River Quoile that meandered gently through the marshy green landscape.The long shadows were shifting as the sun rose higher, a family of swans bobbed sleepily on the water, hardly bothering to move as the small boat passed close by. Behind them, the rath was stirring into life, and the chatter of voices, dogs barking, geese cackling, echoed across the stillness of the Lough.
The dull bell of the Round Tower, church clanged thinly as the monk's began their day of prayer, in the monastery that stood on the brow of the hill beside their homes.

The three boys had planned to spend the day out fishing on the Lough of Cuan, and had packed their bags the night before, stuffed full of things that boys need, fishing lines and bait; knives, their prize passions of flint and a small piece of iron for striking to make the fire they would need to cook the fish they planned to catch; hard cheese and barley bread; apples, wrinkled from the end of the winter. Oran had even managed to bring some of the cider that his Mother was famous for, he had a leather pouched tied securely safely stored at the bottom of his sack; Mael had brought a large honeycomb, he had found when he was setting a trap deep in the woods near their home, this was a real treat. They had packed and hidden their bundles secretly,so they would not disturb their families and have to listen to their little brothers, who would have wanted to come with them, or worse their mothers who would have found all manor of jobs that needed to be done, but for now they had escaped and were off on the high seas and their great adventure.

Lugh pulled easily at the oars, as the small craft skimmed over the glassy water, "It promises to be a fine day, judging by the clear sky, I have the lines ready to catch our dinner, we just have to drop them when we get out a bit, then we can cook what we catch on one of the islands" he said. The land on either side was visible now. Thin spirals of smoke, rose as the fires were flamed back to life, marking settlements as they began the business of the day. Deeply wooded hills surrounded the Lough, except for small clearings here and there around the raths where animals grazed, and crops where planted.

Oran was so excited to be out in a curragh, he was a small dark haired boy who spent most off his time when he was not running errands, for his mother, day dreaming, some times, he was sailing, 'across the seven seas, in a great boat with shining sails or fighting sea monster's', like The Muirdrig, the river horse-horse said to haunt the great bay of Lough Ruray, where the great Mountains of Beanna Boirche floated like a lost Atlantis, on the south side of the Magh Inis were he lived. He saw himself, riding the great wave of Cliona that rose when the mythic king Connor Mac Nessa, beat his shield to call the Great Waves of Ireland to rise up, and aid him against the enemies of the Ulaid.

He liked nothing better than to creep into the great hall, and listen to Cruthain the bard, as he strummed his harp and sang the laments of Deirdre of the Sorrows; or told the ancient hero tales of Cuchulainn and the Tain. He especially loved to hear of the Red Branch Knights,who served the ancient Kings of the Ulaid, at their royal capital of Emain Macha. The stories of Keltair the nephew, of King Connar, whose fierceness was legendary, whoes palace stood on the very same hill where Oran lived, in his dreams, he walked beside Keltair, and sang the Hero praise poems, that filled his head with the melodies and rhythm of past glories.

Lugh, too was happy to be out so early, freed for the day from his many chores, it was not often he could have time for himself and to have a fine day out on the Lough was a bonus. He was a red haired boy of thirteen, who had promised the two younger boys, during a dark stormy winter’s day, when they had sat huddled round a smoking fire, with the wild wind whistling and roaring through the thatch like a banshee,that when the weather was fine, he would take them out on the great Lough for a day fishing.They had sat round a glowing fire, and listened to many stories of ghosts, fairies and selkies; the strange seal people who leave their skins and live as humans; until the younger boys trembled with fear. So Lugh then told them of all the wonderful things he had seen while out fishing on Lough Cuan, in the bright days of summer, and had promised to take them with him when the days lengthened. They had not let him forget it, reminding him each time they met, until he had begun to dread meeting them, and had tried to avoid taking them, but now here he was, out in his small boat with the two boys, and as the sun rose high above him and his spirits rose too.

A slight breeze fanned the warmth of the summer sun, rippling the water gently as they drifted along, white fluffy clouds sailed in the bright blue skies above and tantalizing silver fish glinted in the clear water below them; Maél dropped the lines he had baited, over the side of the boat, letting them sink as they drifted lazily along. A flock of cormorants flew in tight formation just above the water; Maél wondered if they too were off on a day’s adventure. Not far from them, a large heron, was heroically trying to out-fly some seagulls, intent in making it give up its breakfast, its stately flapping, no match for their steady sustained attack.

"Look, over there, seals on that rock, I've never seen so many “called out Maél in a high excited voice, "Please Lugh could you row us a bit closer, I love seals, they look just like my dog Gruffa, when he goes for a swim, all sleek and shiny, with big sad eyes".

Lugh laughed and pulled at one oar to change direction and rowed towards the large rock, where about thirty seals, of differing sizes and ages, lay basking in the sun. Some were very large, and looked bored at the intrusion of the small boat, but the smaller, younger looking seals, scuttled off, sliding into the dark green water that surrounded the rock, coming up close beside them, with bright inquisitive gaze, their curiosity getting the better of their wariness, they swam and dived near the boat, or bobbed on the surface like giant corks, staring wide eyed at the boys, who equally wide eyed stared back.

"If you sing to then them they will sing back", said Lugh. "Last year I was out here with Ferdi, he had his pipe, when he played it up came about three seals, they followed us for ages, one stayed with the boat most of the day. All last summer, every time we where out, we kept on seeing this one seal; Ferdi is convinced it is the same one, he even named it, Septimus seal, and it’s his friend. I have to admit that every time since, when I have gone out with him, there is a seal that comes and hangs round the boat when we are out, but I can't tell if its the same seal but he is sure it is" laughed Lugh." When we get back you can ask him about Septimus, and he will tell you it’s his friend".

Oran pointed to a island in the distance, “Lugh can we head for that island over there, the one with those trees on in, I have always wanted to climb the hill on it. There will be plenty of sticks to light the fire and cook the fish that we will have caught by then", Oran said as he leaned over there side and pulled hopefully at a line." Look at the strange circles on the water Lugh, what makes them do you know?”

They were passing the Straits of Brena, where even on such a still morning, the eddies and whirlpools of the strong fjord made patterns on the surface, hinting of the dangerous currents below, and in the distance, could be heard the distant roar of the fjord. Lugh had been there once with his Father, seen it in its fury, but Oran or Maél had never been that far before and their wide eyes were seeing it all for the first time

Lugh paused as he pulled at the oars, " About three summers ago my father took me out fishing, it was a really calm day like this one when we started out, see where we are now " and he pointed to where the lough narrowed into a channel. "We rowed into the straights of Brena, my da knew where there were oysters he wanted, but then the wind blew up out of nowhere and our small boat began to spin round and round, I was terrified, when you looked into the water there were whirlpools everywhere, I thought the whirlpool would suck us down. I was hanging on, my Da was paddling as hard as he could but the waves were just coming over us, the boat was getting lower and lower in the water, I thought we were going to drown, but some how my Da managed to get us out of the current. When we got to the shore I remember just lying on the grass, trying to get my breathe back, and looking up at the sky and being so glad to able to see it. The squall was very bad, we waited for the sea to calm, but it kept on blowing, rain and sleet. So we carried the boat, round the shore, until we got back into the lough, but you still could not see even the closest islands, never mind the other side of the lough, so we stayed the night at Temple Cormac and rowed home the next day when the weather was clam again", said Lugh.

The trailing line begin jerking, Maél leaned over the gunwale and began to reel it back into the boat, a large silver fish was frantically thrashing about as it was pulled closer and closer until Maél with the help of a net managed to haul it into the boat, where it now floundered in the bottom of the curragh, among the few smaller ones they had caught earlier .

"Look at the size of that fish, it could feed ten of us, Kian would be green with envy if he could see it, he is always boosting about what a great fisherman he is, you should hear him, think no one else but him has ever caught any. I wish he was he just to see the look on his face, bet he won't believe me about the size of this one, we shall have to keep the back bone,then he just might believe us", Lugh was laughing as he bent to retrieve the hook from the fish's mouth. "Hi Maél,you can tell him of the huge fish you caught the first time out, we really will have a feast, I'm starving, let's get going ", said Lugh as he bent to the oars and pulled hard for the island Oran had pointed too with the trees on its summit. " Let’s head for Dunnineil then "