The shady grove not far from the battlefield has served as a makeshift healer's hostel for our wounded and dying. All day I have tended them. Now suddenly the distant noise ceases. It is over at last. Finally I allow myself to sink down on the cool grass and rest for a moment. A Cumhaill trimph is certain. We have lost many but many more will live to fight another day.

A rider comes fast up over the hill. "The Cean Fine has been badly wounded! They are taking him back to Dun Seannachie! Come with me and quickly now!"

Stunned into numb obedience, I quickly put one of my cousins in charge of those who still need care here. Then I mount up behind the breathless warrior and we leave the bloodstained grove behind at a mad gallop.