THE THIRSTY SWORD

A Story of the Norse Invasion of Scotland (1262-1263)

BY ROBERT LEIGHTON

 CHAPTER I. THE WITCH OF BUTE. 

"Ah, if only Kenric were here!"

It was on the evening of a bright day in June, in the year 1262, and agirl, clasping her hands in distress, walked restlessly to and fro onthe bank of a stream that tinkled merrily along its gravelly bed towardsthe sea. She, in her loose gown of gray woollen homespun and girdle ofcrimson silk, was then the only figure to be seen for miles around. Farto the south were the blue mountains of Arran, and westward across theSound were the brown hills of Kintyre, with the rosy light of thesetting sun behind them. The girl, shading her eyes from the stronglight, looked over the moorland towards the castle of Kilinory. 

"If Kenric were but here!" she said again. 

And as she turned to run to the stream, all suddenly she was startled bythe sound of a heavy thud upon the heather at her feet. She looked roundand saw that a large capercailzie had fallen there. The bird was dead, and there was an arrow in its breast. 

At the same moment there was a lusty shout of joy from among the treesand a stalwart youth came bounding towards her. In his right hand hebore a longbow, and at his belt were hung a dead hare and a brace ofwild moor fowl, whose dripping blood trickled down his sturdy legs. 

"Ailsa!" he cried in surprise, seeing the girl as he came to secure thebird he had just killed. "You here so late, and alone?"

Ailsa's fair cheeks grew rosy as the evening sky, for the youth was hewhom she had wished for, Kenric, the son of the brave Earl Hamish ofBute, and now that he was so near her she felt suddenly timid. 

He was a lad of sixteen years, not tall, but very thickset and stoutbuilt, broad shouldered, deep chested, and strong limbed. His long silkylocks were a rich nut-brown, and his sparkling eyes were dark and gentleas those of a fallow deer. The sun and the bracing sea air had maderuddy his fair skin, even to his firm, round throat and his thick arms, that were left bare by his rough coat of untanned buckskin. 

"You have been weeping, Ailsa, " said he, looking into her tearful eyes. 

"Sir, " said she, speaking, as he did, in the guttural Gaelic tongue, "come, I beseech you, to the help of two poor ouzels, whose nest is farin under the roots of yonder birch tree. If you help not quickly, theirlittle fledglings will be eaten up by a thieving stoat that has but afew moments ago entered their nest. "

"Youmake needless dole, Ailsa, over a pair of worthless birds and theirchicks, " said he scornfully. "Why, I have this day slain a fullhalf-score of birds! Ay, and right willingly would I have doubled theirnumber. "

"The birds you have slain are for men's food, " said she, "but the birdsI speak of sing as sweetly as the mavis, and I have watched themtenderly for many sunny days past. Rescue them for me, good Kenric, forI love them right well, and I would not for the world that any illshould befall them. "

Then Kenric went with her to the stream's bank, and as he stood therehis keen eyes saw something move across the short grass at the water'sedge. Promptly he put an arrow to his bowstring and took deft aim. Theshaft sped quickly to its mark, plunged into the body of a stoat, andpinned the animal to the soft turf. 

"There, Ailsa, " said he, "the murderous thief is justly punished!" andspringing down the bank he put his heel upon the writhing animal andlightly drew out his arrow from its body, while Ailsa picked up thebleeding fledgling that the stoat had been carrying away in its teeth. She took the maimed little bird to the birch tree that Kenric mightrestore it to its nest. But at the mouth of the nest lay the dead bodyof one of the parent birds, and hovering near it was the mother ouzel, uttering sharp cries of distress at the murder of her mate and little one. 

"And now, " said Kenric, "I must hie me back to St. Blane's, for our goodAbbot Godfrey bade me be with him ere nightfall. Where is your brotherAllan? Say, was he of those who went with my father and Alpin to thepunting in Glen More this forenoon?"

But Ailsa was again weeping over the fate of her water ouzels and didnot answer him. 

Ailsa was some two years younger than himself. They had been companionsfrom the time of their infancy. Her father, Sir Oscar Redmain, ofKilmory Castle, was the steward of Earl Hamish of Bute, and Ailsa waseven as a sister to the two lads of Rothesay Castle. With Kenric, theyounger of the earl's sons, she had been taught what little there was tobe learned in those rude times, under Godfrey Thurstan, the Abbot of St. Blane's, a wise and holy man who, next to Earl Hamish himself, was heldin the highest honour of all men in Bute. 

Now, just as Kenric, unable to soothe Ailsa, was turning to leave her, ashadow passed between him and the evening sunlight, and at the head ofthe bank there walked an aged woman, bearing upon her bent back a bundleof faggots. Ailsa raised her blue eyes, and at sight of the old womanshrank back and felt in her dark hair for the sprig of feathery rowanleaves that she wore there as a charm against witchcraft. 

"Give you good e'en, my lord of Bute, " said the old woman, seeing Kenricand dropping her bundle on the ground. 

At these strange words Kenric's cheeks grew crimson. 

"I am no lord, Elspeth Blackfell, " said he, going nearer and trying tofathom her meaning in her wrinkled and grimy face, "and I know no reasonfor your calling me by that high name. "

"Not yet, " said the old crone, "not yet. But by my sooth, the time willsurely come, and that full speedily, when all shall hail you lord of Bute. "

"I seek no sooth from such as you, " said Kenric frowning; "and you shallwin naught from me by your false flatteries. "

Just then he felt the hand of Ailsa drawing him back as though to keephim from the blighting touch of the old woman's bony fingers. 

"Go not so near to her!" whispered the girl, making the sign of thecross. "Let her not touch you with her evil hands, lest she put herenchantments upon you. "

Old Elspeth smiled grimly, and showed the one lonely tooth that was inthe front of her shrunken gums. 

"Heed not the child's silly fears, " said she to Kenric, "and tell me, for what cause has she been weeping?"

"It was a stoat that harried an ouzel's nest and slew the birds, "replied Kenric. 

"Bairns weep at trifles, " said Elspeth; "what matters the death of alittle bird? The stoat must live by the food that the great God givesit, and the birds must die when their time comes. 'Tis alike with allGod's creatures upon earth. Even the castle of Rothesay is no more freeat this moment from its secret enemy than is the smallest wildfowl's nest. "

"The castle of Rothesay?" repeated Kenric. "Set me none of your riddles, Elspeth, for they are harder to read even than the abbot's missals. Whatis your meaning? My father has not an enemy in all the isles. Who, then, would do him an injury?"

"Speed you home to Rothesay and see with your own eyes, " said Elspeth, taking up her bundle of faggots again; "Earl Hamish of Bute is in greatdanger, I say. Go to him now, I charge you, and give him my warningagainst the enemy who is within his gates. "

And at that she hobbled away down the hillside towards the little woodenhut that was her home. As she went the red sun sank behind the darkhills of Kintyre. Kenric stood in doubt. 

"I marvel that you will dare to hold speech with that evil hag, " saidAilsa. "'Tis our own good fortune if she have not already cast hereldritch spells upon us both. "

"Nay, Ailsa; fear her not. She is but a poor harmless body, " saidKenric. "Only the witless carls and cottar folk are so simple as tobelieve that she has aught of evil in her words. "

"Ah, but I well know that Elspeth is a witch, " declared Ailsa. "Never doI see her but I must shrink away and cross myself in dread of her. Whydo all the brave men of Bute fear her more than they would fear a bandof armed Norsemen? She casts her spells upon our kine so that they giveno milk, and upon the fountains so that the clear drinking water isturned rank and brown. Allan told me but yesternight that she rides overto Inch Marnock in a boat that has neither sails nor oars, and that theribs of the boat are of dead men's bones. "

Kenric smiled no more at Ailsa's fears; for, indeed, so great was thesuperstition of that time, that deep in his heart he believed no lessstrongly than did Ailsa that Elspeth was assuredly a witch. 

"And what meant she by her warnings of an enemy in your father'scastle?" added Ailsa. 

"Little reck I that, " returned Kenric, "for never lived man in all theWestern Isles who had so few enemies as my good father. "

"Right so, " said Ailsa. "But none the less, Elspeth is a most wisesoothsayer, and you are unwise if you heed not her warning. And now Imind me that on this very day, as I was returning from matins, a greatship of twelve banks of oars came in from the west through KilbrannanSound, and it let anchor in Scalpsie Bay. As I looked upon that shipthree tall warriors were brought ashore in a small boat, and, landing, they walked along the shore towards Rothesay. "

"Three tall warriors, say you?"

"Even so. Lulach the shepherd boy also saw them, and said that they weresurely three of King Hakon's men of the Northland. And Lulach was muchafraid of them, and he fled from their sight lest by chance they shouldlearn that he was a Dane, and seek to carry him off. But now, Kenric, Imust away, for the night is coming on and you have far to go. Yonder isLulach driving home my father's kine. Go to him and he will tell you ofthese strange men. "

So Ailsa and Kenric bade each other goodnight, and Kenric sped lightlyover the heather to where the young shepherd was driving home thelong-horned cattle. 

 CHAPTER II. THE DARK FOREST OF BARONE. 

When Lulach heard a shrill whistle from afar and saw Kenric, he tarrieda while that the cattle might begin to browse upon the lush grass thatgrew on the marshes beside the sea. Then he went forth to meet him, andthrew himself on his knees before him, for Lulach was a thrall, and itwas his custom thus to pay homage to the sons of the brave lord of Bute. 

"Rise, Lulach, rise!" said Kenric, speaking now in the Norse tongue thatthe lad might better understand him. "And tell me, what manner of menwere the three strangers you saw landing in the bay of Scalpsie thisforenoon?"

"They were men out of the North, my master. I heard them speaking in myown tongue, " said Lulach, throwing back his long red hair that hadfallen over his suntanned face. 

"And were they men of peace?"

"I know not, my master; but much did I fear them, for never knew I aNorseman yet who was not cruel to me; and seeing them I hid myselfbehind a rock. "

"Cowardly hind! You are but fit to drive a herd of kine. Of what aspectwere these men?"

"The one who led them was even as a king, " said Lulach. "He was tall andstrong, and his footing was firm upon the heath. He wore a helm crestedwith a golden dragon, and a great sword at his side. I thought thatsurely it was the Earl Hamish of Bute himself, for were it not that thestranger's hair was of the colour of the fox's coat, never saw I a manthat more resembled your father. "

"And his followers, what of them?"

"One was an aged man with a silver beard. The other might be his son. Ah, I wot they are come for no good purpose, my master, for they landedwhen the tide was low, and that bodes ill for Bute. "

"Heaven forfend!" said Kenric, growing uneasy at the thought. 

"And now, " added he, loosing the dead birds from his girdle, "take methese grouse to the abbey, and tell the good abbot that I come not toSt. Blane's this night, but that I go home to the castle to see whothese strangers may be, and to learn their purpose. "

But as Lulach was taking the game into his hands, he drew back andpointed with trembling finger to the green path that led towards Rothesay. 

"See!" he exclaimed, "there is ill luck before you! Turn back, mymaster, turn back!"

"Ah! a magpie, and alone!" cried Kenric, seeing the bird in his path. "That is ill luck indeed! Give me some salt from your wallet, Lulach, for if this sign reads true then it were unwise in me to go fartherwithout some salt in my pocket. "

"Alas!" said Lulach, "I have none. My wallet is empty!"

"Then God be my protection!" said Kenric, and with that he went on hisway, feeling a dread foreboding at his heart. 

The light of day had faded from the sky as he passed by the black watersof Loch Dhu; but there was a silvery glare above the jagged peaks of theArran fells, and he knew that the moon was rising, and that he wouldsoon have her friendly light to guide him through the dark pine forestof Barone. 

All was calm and still, but through the stillness the hollow sound of awaterfall among the far-off mountains came to him like the moaning cryof a dying man. At that sound he felt his heart beating uneasily againsthis side, for that same cry, which rises from all mountain streamstowards nightfall, was beforetime held to be of ill omen when heard froma distance, and Kenric was in a likely mood to be impressed by such a sign. 

When he came to the borders of the forest he was almost afraid toventure among the gloomy shadows of the trees. Therein, as he believed, dwelt many strange and mysterious elves, that were wont to leadtravellers astray to their destruction. But he must pass through thatforest or else go round many miles across the hills; so he braced hisgirdle tighter about him and boldly plunged into the darkness. As hewent forth the plaintive cry of the curlew high up above the treetopsstartled him more than once, and the sudden movement of every wild beastand bird that his own footsteps had frightened filled him with new fears. 

In the broad daylight neither man nor beast could have had power todaunt him. He was, when put to his mettle, one of the most courageousand daring youths in the island, and, saving only his elder brotherAlpin, who was the bravest swordsman of his own age in all the land, there was none who might attempt to draw arms against Kenric. And, intruth, had it not been that he was sorely troubled in spirit concerningthe strange words of Elspeth Blackfell, and also that so many omens hadforetold disaster, it may be that even on that same night he would havepassed through the dark avenues of the forest with neither doubt nor tremor. 

But in an age when the meaning of nature's work was little understood, when even religion was not yet strong enough to conquer the superstitionwhich found evil in things which were only mysteries, it was smallwonder that young Kenric of Bute should wish himself safely at home inhis father's castle, or regret that he had not gone back to the abbey ofSt. Blane. 

Nevertheless it was not alone the thought of trolls and elfins thatdisturbed him. At that time the wild boar and the wolf were denizens ofthe forest wherein he walked -- animals which would indeed be welcomedin the daylight by a band of hunters with their spears and hounds, butwhich might give some trouble to a youth appearing alone in their midston a dark night. 

At one moment when he was deep within the heart of the forest he thoughthe heard hurried footsteps behind him. He felt for his dirk and turnedround. The moon's beams pierced the trees and fell upon a glisteningpool of water where a wildcat was slaking its thirst. There was naughtelse that might cause him alarm. 

But in a little while he heard the same sound again -- this time inadvance of him. He stood still. In the shadow of a great bare rock hesaw two staring eyes that shone like gleaming fires, now green, now red, and he knew that they were the eyes of a wolf. There was a low growl asof distant thunder. Then the moon's light shot through a rack of cloud, and he saw the form of the wolf standing out clear and black against thegrey rock. He fixed an arrow to his bowstring; but at the sound of thecreaking bow the wolf gave a sharp yelp and disappeared into thedarkness beyond. 

Kenric, bolder now, unbent his bow and stepped towards the rock that hemight see whither the wolf had fled. In an open glade that was behindthe rock he saw, instead of the wolf, a strange tall figure standing inthe moonlight. It was the figure of a woman, wondrously fair andbeautiful. Her long hair, that fell over her shoulders, was as thecolour of blood, and her white bare arm, that shone like marble in thepale light, seemed to be pointing the way to Rothesay Castle. In herother hand she held a long bright-bladed sword. 

Now whether this figure appearing so mysteriously before him was indeedthat of a woman of human flesh, or, as he feared, the vision of someghostly dweller in the pine forest, Kenric could not at that moment havetold. Even as he stepped farther into the glade a dark cloud againobscured the moon and all was black night around him, and no sound couldhe hear but the beating of his own heart and the whispering of the windamong the trees. 

 CHAPTER III. HOW EARL RODERIC SPILLED THE SALT. 

On that same June evening, in the year 1262, whilst Kenric was at thestream side with Ailsa Redmain, the three strangers who had landedearlier in the day on the shores of Bute were feasting in the greatbanqueting hall of the castle of Rothesay. For although to the tired ladLulach and to Ailsa they had appeared in the guise of enemies, yet eachof the three was known to the Earl Hamish. Their leader was, in truth, none other than his own brother, the Earl Roderic of the Isle of Gigha. The other two were Erland the Old of Jura, and Sweyn the Silent of Colonsay. 

What their unexpected mission to the lord of Bute might be had yet to belearnt. But when, betimes, they came to the gate of Rothesay Castle theyfound Earl Hamish and his steward, Sir Oscar Redmain, on the point ofsetting out on a hunting expedition into the wilds of Glen More. And ofthe band of hunters were Kenric's elder brother Alpin and young AllanRedmain. 

So when the strangers entered the castle and had broken bread andrefreshed their deep throats with wine, they left their swords and dirksin the armoury and took bows and hunting spears. Thus equipped, they setoff with Earl Hamish and his merry men and long-limbed hounds. And theyhad great sport that day, coming back at sunset with a wild boar thatEarl Roderic had slain, and three antlered stags and other spoil. 

In their absence Kenric's mother, the Lady Adela, had made prepare afeast for them all, with much venison and roasted beef and stewed blackcock, with cakes of bread, both white and brown, and many measures ofred wine and well-spiced liquors. A silver drinking bowl was set downfor each of the kingly guests, and a goblet of beaten gold for the kingof Bute. 

The hall was lighted with many cruse lamps that hung suspended from theoaken joists, and, lest the evening should be chill, there was a fire offragrant pine logs blazing on the open hearth. Round the walls of thehall, that were panelled with black oak boards, there were manyglittering shields and corselets, with hunting horns and varioustrophies of the chase. 

At the fireside there sat an aged minstrel, whose duty it was to fill inthe intervals of the feast with the music of his harp, or, if need were, to recite to the company the saga of King Somerled and other greatancestors of the kings of Bute. 

Earl Hamish -- a tall, courtly Highlander, with sad eyes and a longbrown beard -- sat at the head of the board, that with his own stronghands he might carve the steaming venison. At his right hand sat theearl of Jura, Erland the Old, and at his left Earl Sweyn the Silent. Hisbeautiful wife, the Lady Adela -- attired in a rich gown inwoven withmany devices of silk, and spun by the Sudureyans -- sat facing him atthe far end of the board. At her right hand sat Earl Roderic of Gigha;and at her left Alpin, her son. 

So the feast began, with much merry discourse of how the men had faredthat day at the hunting in Glen More. 

Now Erland and Sweyn, kinglings of Jura and Colonsay, though owingyearly tribute to their overlord, Alexander the Third of Scotland, wereboth men of the North, and they spoke with Earl Hamish in the Norsetongue. Their discourse, which has no bearing upon the story, was mainlyof cattle and sheep, and of the old breast laws of the Western Isles. But Roderic of Gigha spoke in the Gaelic, which the Lady Adela, thoughan Englishwoman born, could well understand. 

"Ah, but, " said he, addressing young Alpin, who had been boasting of themanly sports that might be enjoyed in his father's dominions, "youshould one day come to Gigha, for there, I do assure you, we haveadventure such as you never dream of in Bute. "

"I marvel, my lord, how that can be, " said Allan Redmain scornfully, "for the kingdom of which you boast is but a barren rock in the mid sea, and methinks your beasts of the chase are but vermin rats and shrew mice. "

"The sports of which I speak, young man, " said Roderic, frowning andwiping his red beard with his broad hand, "are not such bairns' play asyou suppose. Our beasts of the chase are burly men, and our huntingground is the wide ocean. I and my gallant fellows carry our adventuresfar into the north to Iceland and Scandinavia, or southward even intothe land of the Angles, where there is sport in plenty for those whowould seek it. "

The Lady Adela looked up in shocked surprise. 

"But, " said she, "you do not surely count the Angles among your enemies, my lord? The Scots are at peace these many years with my country England. "

"I should be grieved to call any man my enemy who is your friend, myfair Lady Adela, " said Roderic gallantly. "But though the Scots beindeed at peace with King Henry, yet the brave Easterlings of Ireland doofttimes find the need of slaying a few of your proud countrymen; and ifI help them -- well, where there is aught to be gained what matters itwho our victims be, or what lands we invade? I am for letting him takewho has the power to conquer. Let them keep their own who can. 

"What say you, Sir Oscar? Am I not right?"

"I am a man of peace, Earl Roderic, " said Sir Oscar Redmain gravely. "Ihave no enemies but the enemies of my king and country. And methinks, mylord, that a loyal subject of the King of Scots is but a traitoroushound if he stoop to take arms in favour of either Easterling orNorseman, and against our good friends of England. You, my lord, mayperhaps pay fealty to King Hakon of Norway, as well as to his majestyAlexander of Scotland. It is not all men who can make it so easy toserve two masters. "

"A traitorous hound, forsooth! You surely mistake me, Sir Oscar, " criedRoderic, reddening at the reproach. "I said not that I paid truage toany king but our own King of Scots, God bless him! And though, indeed, King Alexander is but a stripling, knowing little of kingcraft, yet, even though he were a babe in arms, he and no other is still mysovereign lord. "

And at that he raised his goblet to his lips and drank a deep draught ofwine. Then, lightly turning to the lady of Rothesay, and helping her tocut up the venison on her platter, that she might the more easily takethe small pieces in her dainty white fingers, he said:

"After the rough roving life that I have been leading these many years, my lady, 'tis truly a great joy to come back once more to the peacefulIsle of Bute. Much do I envy my good brother Hamish, in that he hath sobeauteous a partner as yourself to sit before him at his board. Truly heis a most fortunate man!"

Adela's fair cheeks blushed rosy red at this compliment, but she did notsmile. 

"Methinks, Lord Roderic, " said she, nervously breaking the white breadcake at her side, "that with so small a distance between Bute and Gigha, you might surely have come to visit your brother long ere this presenttime. For although Earl Hamish hath ofttimes spoken of you, yet neveruntil this day have I seen you; and 'tis well-nigh a score of years thatI have lived in Bute. "

"Alas!" said Roderic, looking uneasy, "since my poor father, Earl Alpin, died, I have had little spirit to come back to these scenes. It was inanger that my brother and I parted, when, as you well know, the lordshipover the two islands was divided. The larger dominion of Bute fell tothe share of Hamish. I, as the younger son, was perforce content to takethe miserable portion that I now possess. Gigha is but a small island, my lady. "

"Our happiness need not depend upon the extent of our dominions, LordRoderic, " said Adela; "and I doubt not you are passing happy, notwithstanding that you have but a younger son's inheritance. "

"Not so, " said Roderic, planting his heavy elbows on the board; "forwhere can a man find happiness when those who are dearest to him havebeen torn away?"

"Then you have had sorrows?" questioned the lady. 

"When I went forth to take the kingship of my island home, " said he, "mylife was indeed most bright and joyous; and on a time it befell that Iwent north to Iceland, and there I met one who (with submission I sayit) was not less beautiful than yourself, my lady. She was the mostbeauteous damsel that ever came out of the Northland, and her name wasSigrid the Fair. I married her and we were happy. "

Roderic again filled his drinking bowl and looked across the table atAlpin's handsome brown face. 

"We had two children, " he continued sadly. "The girl would have been ofthe years of your own son there, the boy was two summers younger than she. "

"Oh, do not tell me that they are dead!" cried Adela. 

"Alas! but that is so, " he sighed. "One sunny day they went out hand inhand from our castle to play, as was their wont, among the rocks andcaves that are at the south of our island. Never since then have theyreturned, and some said that the water kelpie had taken them and carriedthem away to his crystal home under the sea. Others whispered that thekraken or some other monster of the deep had devoured them. They saidthese things, believing that Sigrid had no heart for her children, andthat she was unkind to them. But many days thereafter I learned that astrange ship had been seen bearing outward between Gigha and Cara; andit was the ship of Rapp the Icelander, the cruellest sea rover that eversailed upon the western seas. Then did I believe that neither kelpie norkraken had taken my bairns, but Rapp the Rover. 

"So I got ship and followed him. For three long years I followed in histrack -- to the frozen shores of Iceland, and into every vic and fiordin Scandinavia. Southward then I sailed to the blue seas of England --always behind him yet never encountering him. But at last there came aday of terrible tempest. The thunder god struck my ship and we werewrecked. Every man that was on board my ship was drowned saving onlymyself, for the white sea mew swims not more lightly on the waters thanI. So I was picked up by a passing vessel, and it was the vessel of Rappthe Icelander. Instead of killing him I loved him, in that he had savedmy life. Then he told me, swearing by St. Olaf, that never in all histime of sea roving had he touched at the little island of Gigha, andthat he knew naught soever of the dear children I had lost. "

"Greatly do I pity you, Earl Roderic, " said Adela, clasping her hands. "And you have not yet found trace of your little ones?"

"No, " said Roderic. "And now do I believe that they are still at play inthe crystal halls of the water kelpie, whence no man can rescue them. "

"And your wife Sigrid, what of her?" asked Sir Oscar Redmain. 

"When I got back to Gigha, " murmured Roderic, "they told me that in myabsence she had gone mad, and that in her frenzy she had cast herselffrom the cliffs into the sea. Whithersoever I have gone since that sadtime, there have I found unhappiness. "

The Lady Adela looked upon the man with gentle pity in her dark eyes. She felt how different had been his lot from hers and her dearhusband's. For notwithstanding that she dwelt in a country not her own, and among people who spoke a foreign tongue, yet she was very happy. TheEarl Hamish loved her well and was ever good to her. And their two sons, Alpin and Kenric, growing up into manhood, were very dear to her heart. 

She was the daughter of a proud English baron, who had wide dominionsnear the great city of York. Twenty years before, Earl Hamish of Butehad been sent with other wise counsellors by King Alexander the Secondon a mission to the court of the English king, Henry the Third, concerning the great treaty of peace between England and Scotland, andalso to consider the proposal of a marriage between the daughter of theKing of England and the son of the King of Scots. The treaty establisheda peace which had not yet been broken, and the Princess Margaret ofEngland was now the Queen of Scotland. But while on that embassy to YorkEarl Hamish of Bute won more than the gratitude of his sovereign, for hewon the heart of the Lady Adela Warwick, and, making her his wife, hebrought her to his castle of Rothesay, where she had lived happily eversince. 

She was thinking of these matters as she heard Earl Roderic's story ofhis great unhappiness, and her eyes were fixed dreamily before her. 

Now Roderic, to whom the presence of this sweet and beautiful lady was anew experience, observed her pensiveness and wondered thereat. Hisroving glance presently fell upon her plate. 

"Ah!" said he, "you have no salt, my lady. "

And thereupon he took her knife and dug its point into the salt horn. 

"Nay, nay!" she cried in alarm; and she grasped his wrist so that hespilled the salt upon the table. 

"What have you done?" he exclaimed. "This is the most unlucky thing thatcould have happened! Alas, alas!"

"Would you, then, have helped my lady to sorrow?" cried Sir OscarRedmain, rising wrathfully. "By the rood, but you are a thoughtless loon!"

Earl Hamish at the head of the board, hearing his lady's cry, rosehastily and approached her, and saw that she was very pale. 

"I will retire, " said she, "for the hall is over warm. I am faint anduneasy. "

Earl Hamish led her to the door. There he kissed her fondly on her whitebrow and she went to her chamber. 

 CHAPTER IV. THE DARKENING HALL. 

The lord of Bute sat not down again, for the feast was at an end. SirOscar Redmain, minding that he had to travel all the way to Kilmory thatnight, went to his master and spoke with him aside. While the earl andhis steward were thus engaged, a tall seneschal with his serving mencame into the hall to clear away the remains of the banquet; and as theold minstrel left his place at the fireside to continue his harping inthe supping room of the guards, the two lads, Alpin of Bute and AllanRedmain, stepped to the hearth to hold converse with the three guests. 

Alpin and his young friend were both about nineteen years of age. Theywere almost full grown, and manly exercise had made them strong. Theywore their rough hunting clothes -- loose vests of leather, homespunkilts, and untanned buskins. They carried no weapons, for it was held incustom that none should sit armed at table in the presence of strangers. 

"Tell me, Earl Roderic, " said Alpin, running his fingers through hislong hair -- "you have, you say, been in far-off Iceland -- tell me, isit true that in that land there be many mountains that shoot forth fireand brimstone?"

"Ay, that is quite true, my lad, " said his much-travelled uncle, "for Ihave myself seen such mountains. Higher than Goatfell they are, withstreams of fire pouring down their glens. "

"A most marvellous country!" exclaimed Alpin. "I wonder much if I shallever behold that land. "

"There you will have no such lordly feast as that we have just risenfrom, " added Roderic, picking his teeth with his broad thumbnail. 

Alpin and Allan watched him, hoping he would tell them something of hisroving life. Roderic, finding that he could not easily dislodge thepiece of meat from betwixt his teeth, picked up a twig of pine wood fromthe hearth, and took from the table the large knife with which hisbrother had carved the venison, and as he began to sharpen the littletwig to a point he continued:

"No roasted beef there nor venison, but good tough whale flesh, black asa peat, or else a few candle ends -- for the Icelanders are fond of fat. Once when I was ship-broken on their coasts naught could my shipmatesfind to eat but reasty butter. Disliking that alone, we took our ship'scable, that was made of walrus hide, and smearing the cable with butterwe bolted morsels of it, by which means we managed to exist for fourteendays. 

"There, " he said, finishing his toothpick, "that will serve. 'Tisstrange, is it not, Master Alpin, what a piece of steel can do?"

And then, first looking at its point, he laid the long knife carelesslyupon the shelf above the hearth. 

"Why, in Norway, where I have also been, your man can take his knife andtwo slips of wood nine ells long, and he will so shape the wood thatwhen the two slips are fitted to his feet he can outstrip a bird, ahound, or a deer. "

"Does he, then, fly with them in the air, as a witch on her broom?"asked Allan Redmain. 

"Why, no; he skates along the ice or snow, " returned Roderic. "With suchinstruments and a snowy ground, master Redmain, you might be back atyour castle of Kilmory in two flickers of a rush light. Go you toKilmory tonight?"

"Yes, " said Allan, "we go at once, for now I see my father is ready. Give you goodnight, my lords. "

"Goodnight, boy, " said the three guests. 

And Allan, with his father and Alpin, then left the hall. 

Two of the cruse lamps had by this time spent their oil, and theirflames had died out. Earl Hamish was now alone with his guests. 

"Shall we, " said he, "retire to the smaller hall, Roderic? I haveordered Duncan to take some spiced wine there for us. "

"I like the odour of the log fire here, " said Roderic, exchangingglances with Erland the Old. "I pray you let us remain here a while. "

Earl Hamish and his brother stood side by side, looking into the fire, while Sweyn the Silent and Erland the Old sat them at either corner ofthe hearth. The two brothers were much alike in stature, both being talland broad; but Hamish was gentler, and his every movement showed that hewas accustomed to the company of those who deemed a courtly bearing ofmore account than mere bodily prowess, though in truth he lacked notthat either. His hair and beard, too, were dark, touched here and therewith the frost of age; while his brother's long hair was red as the backof the fox. 

"Well, Hamish, " began Roderic, moving uneasily on his feet, "you have, as I have heard, won your way into the good graces of our lord the King?"

"I trust, " said Hamish, "that I may never be accused of disloyalty. I amever at my sovereign's service in whatsoever he commands me to do. "

"What, even though the doing of that service be to your own greatdisadvantage?" said Roderic, looking aside at Earl Sweyn and smiling grimly. 

"Naught can be to my disadvantage that is done in dutiful service of mycountry and King, " answered the lord of Bute proudly. 

Roderic laughed scornfully, and his laugh was echoed by Sweyn and Erland. 

"There may be two thoughts as to that, " returned Roderic. "As formyself, I'd snap my fingers in the King's face ere I would go on ajourney such as you have newly undertaken, my brother. Think not that wehave no eyes nor ears in the outer isles, Earl Hamish; for it is knownin every castle between Cape Wrath and the Mull of Kintyre that you havebut now returned from a mission to King Hakon of Norway. "

"And what though it were yet more widely known?" said Hamish insurprise. "Am I, then, the only lord in all the isles who remains trueto his oaths of fealty? And are they all as you are, Roderic, who havefailed these many years to pay due tribute to the King of Scots?"

"You are the only one among us, " croaked Erland the Old, "who pays nothomage to our rightful lord and sovereign the good King Hakon. "

"I owe no sort of fealty to Norway, " said Hamish. "Nor do I know by whatright Hakon claims sovereignty over any one of the isles south of Iona. "

"Methinks, " said Sweyn the Silent, looking up under his dark brows, "that Harald Fairhair settled that matter a good four hundred years ago. "

"Right well am I aware that at such time Harald did indeed conquer theWestern Isles -- ay, even to Bute and Arran" -- returned Earl Hamish. "But methinks, my lord of Colonsay, that my own ancestor the great kingSomerled (God rest him!) did at least wrest the isles of Bute, Arran, and Gigha from the power of Norway. Those three island kingdoms do tothis day owe truage to no overlord saving only the King of Scots, and toAlexander alone will I pay homage. "

At that Earl Roderic's eyes found their way to the shelf that was abovethe hearth, and his two friends, following his glance, saw the knifeupon the shelf and smiled. From the halls below, where the guards andservitors were feasting, came the strains of the minstrel's harp and ahenchman's joyous song of triumphant battle. 

"'Tis then no marvel, " said Roderic, "that the young King of Scots, likehis father before him, has made of you a willing cat's-paw. On whatfool's errand went you to Norway?"

"That, " said the lord of Bute, "is quickly told;" and he looked roundfor a moment, observing that all the lamps save one had burned out theirfeeble lights. "I went to Norway, bearing letters to King Hakon from theKing of Scots and his majesty of England, King Henry the Third. "

"His majesty of England!" exclaimed all three. 

"Henry of England is no more a friend to the Norseman than isAlexander, " said Hamish, as he pressed down the burning logs with hisfoot. "And I do assure you, my lords, that both are well prepared toresist the incursions of King Hakon's vassals. "

"And what manner of princely reward got you for your trouble as letterbearer?" asked Roderic in a tone of injured envy. 

"Ten score head of Highland cattle, I would guess, " muttered Erland the Old. 

"Nay, twenty score, rather, " chimed in Sweyn the Silent. 

"Methinks, brother Hamish, " said Roderic hoarsely, as he stepped nearerto him and looked with an evil scowl into his face -- "methinks it hadbeen your part to have sent me word, that I might also have been of thatjourney. It had been but reason that I had the honour as well as you. Selfish man that you are, you are ever ready to win worship from me andput me to dishonour!"

At this moment the last remaining cruse light flickered, burned blue, flickered again, and then went out. The hall was now in darkness, savingonly for the feeble light of the fire, and the moonbeams that slanted inthrough the mullioned windows and shone here and there upon someburnished helmet or corselet upon the walls. 

As Roderic of Gigha ceased speaking, Erland the Old coughed thrice andstroked his silvery beard. Sweyn the Silent echoed the fatal sign, andRoderic drew back, resting his right hand upon the mantel. 

"Had I tarried till I had sent for you, Roderic, " said Earl Hamish, "Imust first have wasted much precious time in suing with King Alexanderfor his pardon for my brother who has betrayed him!"

"You lie! base slanderer! you lie!" cried Roderic in jealous fury, snatching the knife from off the shelf. And then, springing forward andraising his right hand above his head, he plunged the blade deep, deepinto his brother's heart. The good Earl Hamish staggered and fell. 

"Treachery!" he groaned. "Adela! Adela!" and with the name of his lovedwife upon his lips, he died there upon the stone of his own hearth. 

Roderic and his two companions approached the dead man, gazed upon him, and then at each other with satisfaction in their dark looks. But therewas fear, too, in Roderic's face, for he was craven of heart. He drewback into the shadow, where neither moonbeam nor firelight could fallupon him and reveal him. 

And all the while the henchman's song of triumph reached their ears fromthe halls below. 

 CHAPTER V. A TERRIBLE DISCOVERY. 

Kenric tarried not long in search of the ghostly figure that hadappeared before him so mysteriously in the dark forest of Barone. Whencethat figure had come and whither it had gone he could not tell. Nor didhe exercise his mind in fruitless questionings concerning her. Leavingthe rock behind him, he set off at a brisk pace through the shadows ofthe trees, more timid than ever, and came out upon the high ground thatis behind Rothesay Bay. 

Down by the water's brink, outlined against the moonlit waves, stood thedark towers of Rothesay Castle. A light shone dimly in his mother'schamber window; but the great banqueting hall wherein his father waswont to entertain his guests was dark, and Kenric thought this passingstrange. Where were the strangers of whom he had heard? If they were notin the banqueting hall, then they must surely have already left the island. 

Hastening down the hillside, he hied him to the castle, and as he nearedthe little postern in the western walls, a burst of boisterous songreached his ears from the guardroom. Taking up a stone from the groundhe was about to knock three loud knocks, when the door was opened fromwithin, and a tall man with a thick plaid over his broad shouldersslipped out, almost overthrowing Kenric as he ran against him. 

"Duncan!" exclaimed Kenric, perceiving his father's seneschal, "whithergo you at this late hour of night?"

"Ah, master Kenric, and that is yourself, eh? And you are here, and notat the abbey of St. Blane's? Well, sir, it's a bonnie night, you see, and I even thought I would take a quiet saunter along the side of Loch Fad. "

"Then, " said Kenric, "I warn you, go not near to the forest of Barone, Duncan; for I have but now come through, and therein I saw a sight thatwould raise your hair on end. It was, as I believe, none other than thewerewolf that I saw. First there was an old gray wolf with a white patchon its breast, and then, even as I looked, that wolf was spirited intothe form of a fair lady, and I was like to sink into the ground with fear. "

"'Tis the first time that I have heard of a son of the house of Rothesayknowing fear, " said Duncan, smiling and showing his great yellow teethin the moonlight. "'Twas but the maid Aasta of Kilmory that you saw. "

"Aasta? Then it is true that the maid has been bewitched? It is truethat she has that power of turning herself at will into the form of a wolf?"

"Men say so, " answered Duncan. "But methinks 'tis no more true than thatother thing they say of her -- that though she looks but a girl ofeighteen, she is yet full five score winters old. 'Tis idle talk, Kenric. But where saw you this sight? Was it not by the Rock ofSolitude, in the heart of the forest?"

"'Twas even there. But in an instant she disappeared, and I saw her nomore. "

"If she be not there now, " said Duncan, heaving a great sigh out of hisdeep chest, "then will I return into the castle; for now do I mind methat mine eyes are wanting sleep after the weary day that I have hadamong the hills, running high and low as though I were but a dumb houndmade only to scent out game for those who know less of hunting than I doof building a ship. That lazy old graybeard, the lord of Jura, may bringhis own gillies with him the next time he comes to the hunting in Bute. Never again shall he get me to fetch and carry for him!"

"The lord of Jura?" said Kenric. "It is then true that there arestrangers in the castle. "

"And is it not for that same cause that you have come home?" askedDuncan. "Methought you knew that they were here -- three gallant kingsout of the west they are, and one of them is your own uncle, EarlRoderic of Gigha, whom, when he was but a bairn as high as my girdle, Itaught to bend the bow and wield the broadsword. They are but now in thefeasting hall with my lord your father; for Sir Oscar and young Allanhave gone home to Kilmory, and my lady and Alpin have gone to theirchambers. "

"Have you then left my father alone with these three strange men?" askedKenric as they entered the postern. 

"My lord's own brother, Earl Roderic, is with him, " said Duncan, lookingat Kenric in surprise. "You would not surely have me mount guard over mylord's own guests! By the rood, that were strange hospitality!"

"Where are their dirks and swords?"

"Under my own keeping in the armoury, where 'tis right they should be;for men of peace, as these most surely are, encumber not themselves withthe instruments of war. "

"'Tis well, " returned Kenric, much relieved. "Old Elspeth Blackfell wasbut playing me with her groundless forewarnings of danger. Well, get mesome meat and a bowl of milk, Duncan, while I go up and see this uncleof mine. He has seen much of the world, and methinks his discourse mustbe full of instruction for a home-keeping youth. "

So Duncan went into the guardroom, where two score of noisy retainerswere making merry over their cups, and Kenric went upstairs to the greathall. 

Up the steep stone steps he climbed, making little noise with hisdeerskin buskins. Hearing footsteps at the head of the stairs, heglanced along the north corridor, whose lancet windows looked out uponthe quiet sea. 

Suddenly in the midst of the moonbeams that streamed in through thewestern window, lighting the corridor with a clear silvery light, he sawthree men steal out of the banqueting hall. The last of the three moanedgrievously as they passed beyond into another apartment. 

"Oh, Hamish, Hamish my brother!" he moaned, and his voice was as thewailing of the wind, "what is this evil thing that I have done!"

Kenric drew back into the shadow of the stairway, and not seeing hisfather with the three guests, he began again to fear some ill. 

"What!" croaked the old man with the silvery beard, "and is this yourresolution? Is this your courage? I fear me, Roderic, you are but a weakcraven thus to deplore the fulfilment of our most righteous mission!"

Then the door of the smaller hall closed behind the three earls, andKenric was left alone. He still heard the rumour of their voices as hewalked with quick steps along the moonlit corridor, and he paused tolisten at the door. 

"And now that we have done so completely with the fox, " said a voice, "what say you, comrades, to our making equal despatch with the vixen andher cub? 'Twere easy doing, could we but discover in what corner wemight entrap them. "

Kenric did not understand the purport of these words. He did not guessthat the "fox" meant his own father, and the "vixen and her cub" hismother and Alpin. But he listened yet again. 

"Wait, wait, my lord of Jura, " said another voice. "'Twere better wetarried until all the watchdogs are sound asleep. Fill me yon drinkinghorn, Sweyn, for my hand trembles, and my mind is strangely cloudy. "

Silence followed this speech, and Kenric crept along the corridor untilhe came to the entrance of the great hall. He drew aside the arrashangings and peered into the deserted room. All was silent as the grave. The crackling embers of the fire gave but a sorry light, with only afitful glimmer that rose now and again from some half-consumed pine log. But with the feeble moonbeams, that shone through the thin films of skinthat in those days -- except in the churches -- did service for glass, there was still light enough in that vast room to show what terribledeed had been enacted upon the hearthstone. 

Kenric had taken but a few strides into the hall when his eyes restedupon the form of his murdered father. He started back aghast at thehorrible sight. 

"Oh, my father, my father!" he cried, flinging himself down upon thebloodstained floor. "Father? father? It is I, Kenric -- your son. Tellme, I beseech you, tell me, what foul villain has done this thing?"

Then he took hold of the earl's cold right hand and chafed it tenderly, as he still tried to arouse him. But there was no response. He kneltdown closer and bent his head to his father's bare throat, and, puttingout his tongue, he felt with its sensitive touch if there was sign ofbreathing, or if the pulses were beating in the veins. 

As he rested his hand on the dead earl's chest he touched the haft ofthe weapon that had worked this cruel deed. He knew the knife andguessed how all had happened. He grasped the handle in his fingers andtried to withdraw the long blade; but the blood gushed out from theterrible wound, and the lad grew faint at the sight. 

"Dead! dead!" he moaned, rising to his feet, and then from the hallsbelow came the shouts of the retainers as they pledged "waes hael" tothe lord of Bute. 

Kenric hastened out of the hall and crept down the stairs to summon theguard and station them in the corridor, that none of the threetraitorous guests might escape. He met Duncan the seneschal at the footof the stairs carrying the food that he had ordered, and by the light ofa lamp in the lower passage Duncan saw the lad's pale and terrified face. 

"God assoil me!" cried Duncan, "what has happened?"

"A terrible thing, Duncan. My dear father has been brutally slain underhis own roof tree. "

"Slain! My lord, the Earl Hamish slain? Nay, boy, it cannot be!"

"Alas, 'tis true! One of those miscreant traitors who came hither todayhas plunged a knife into my father's heart. Take back the food. I willneither eat nor sleep again until I have discovered the villain who hasdone this foul crime. Turn out the guard this instant. Station themwithout the door of the room wherein those three wicked men are nowcarousing. And now to call my brother Alpin. "

Kenric went softly to his brother's room, which was next to the chamberof the Lady Adela, and he knocked gently at the door. Alpin was soundasleep upon his couch, for his day's hunting had wearied his limbs. Kenric went within and awoke him. 

In the darkness Alpin did not see his brother's pallid face, and heturned over with many complaints at being so roughly disturbed. 

"Nay, Alpin, 'tis for no light cause that I disturb you, " urged Kenric. 

And hearing his husky, trembling voice, Alpin roused himself with suddenterror. 

"What brings you back to the castle?" he cried; "and wherefore do youcall me at this late hour?"

"It is that our father has been entertaining enemies unawares, " saidKenric. "Entering the hall but a few moments ago I found him lying deadupon the hearth with a cruel knife in his heart. "

Alpin gave a piercing cry of sudden grief and sprang up from his bed. 

"No, no, it cannot be!" he exclaimed, recovering himself as he threw onsome clothing. "You have made some strange mistake. These friends couldnot have harmed our father. They were not armed. And what could ouruncle Roderic gain by such treachery?"

Kenric drew his brother out into one of the dark passages, not observingthat their mother's chamber door had opened and that the Lady Adela, roused from her slumber by Alpin's cry of grief, had taken the alarm andwas preparing to follow. 

"Alas, he has but too much to gain, " said Kenric. "Had he been left tocarry out his base plot to the end, you and I, Alpin, must surely havefallen as our father has fallen -- victims to Earl Roderic's ambition tomake himself lord over Bute. "

"If this be so, " returned Alpin, raising his voice in wrath, "then withmy own hands will I take a deadly vengeance. I swear it now, Kenric --by our holy faith I swear that if Roderic of Gigha has indeed slain ourfather, then Roderic shall die by my hand!"

"Will such vengeance give back the life that has been taken?" askedKenric solemnly. "Will vengeance restore to our dear mother thehappiness that she now has lost? Methinks it had been wiser in you, Alpin, to have stayed by our father's side instead of slinking off toyour bed and leaving him thus exposed to danger. Come, let us armourselves and confront these evil men, that we may learn which one ofthem has dealt this fatal blow. "

"With what weapon, say you, was my father slain?" asked Alpin, as, beingnow in the armoury, they proceeded to don their coats of chain mail. 

"With the great knife wherewith he was wont to carve the venison andmeat, " said Kenric, taking down a sword. 

"Ah!" cried Alpin with swift recollection, "now do I perceive the reasonwherefore Earl Roderic took that same knife from off the board andplaced it so cunningly above the hearth. Oh, villain that he is! Hedesigned even then to do as he has done. 

"Now, " he added, snatching up a great two-handed sword, "I am ready. Letme but meet him -- let me but face him for a moment, and I will slay himlike a dog. "

"Think well ere you strike the blow you contemplate, " said Kenric asthey ascended a side stairway that led to the upper floors of thecastle. "Remember that you are now the rightful lord over Bute, and thatyou will have power to inflict due punishment upon this man withouttaking a personal vengeance that would surely lead to an endless bloodfeud. "

"Tush! You are but a timid boy, Kenric. What priestly precepts has theold Abbot Thurstan been cramming you with? Would you pardon the man whohas slain our own father?"

"Pardon him?" exclaimed Kenric. "No, never will I do that. If you slayhim not, Alpin, then, by the holy rood, I myself will do so. But itshall be in fair fight that I will overcome him, and by no mean subterfuge. "

The two lads were now at the entrance of the larger hall, wherein thegood Earl Hamish lay dead. Alpin went within, and there, bending overhis father's body, he was overwhelmed by his grief. He staggered to aseat and sat down with his head in his hands, weeping piteously. 

Kenric heard loud voices in the corridor, and grasping his sword hehastened to where the guards were stationed. Duncan Graham, of the longarm, was holding parley with the three earls within the smaller hall. His broad frame filled up the half-open doorway, so that the presence ofthe armed guard was not yet known to Roderic and his two companions. 

"More wine it may be you can have, " said Duncan; "but as to bringing youyour swords, that I cannot do without orders from my master. "

"I am now your master!" said the gruff voice of Roderic of Gigha; "andagain I command you to bring us our swords and dirks. "

"You are no master of mine, Earl Roderic, " said Duncan; "and now foryour insolence shall you have neither wine nor weapons, " and with thathe slammed to the door. 

"Insolent varlet!" growled Roderic within the room. 

"Nay, calm yourself, good Roderic, " said the voice of Erland the Old;"we had better have tarried till daylight. It may be that they havealready discovered what you have done. Truly you were an arrantsimpleton to leave the weapon in your brother's breast. 'Twould haveserved our further purpose well. "

Kenric heard these last words, and though they were spoken in theDanish, yet full well did he understand that the further purpose of EarlRoderic was indeed the slaying of the Lady Adela and Alpin. 

Assured that the three miscreants were unarmed, he drew Duncan aside andwhispered his commands, which were that four of the guards should followhim into the room and make prisoners of the three island kings. Thereupon Duncan went back to the door and forced it open, and Kenric, with buckler on arm and sword in hand, marched in, and standing firmlyupright faced the three men defiantly. 

"Which man of you is Earl Roderic of Gigha?" said he. 

 CHAPTER VI. ALPIN'S VOW OF VENGEANCE. 

Erland the Old, with an empty drinking horn in his bony hand, sat by thehearth looking vacantly into the dead embers of the fire. Sweyn theSilent stood beside him with his thumbs stuck in his leathern girdle;while Roderic of Gigha sat upon the table facing the door and swinginghis legs to and fro. The light of a hanging cruse lamp shone upon hislong red hair and beard. His strong bare arms were folded, one withinthe other, across his broad chest, and the back of his right hand wassplashed with blood that had been partly wiped off upon his under jerkin. 

"Which man of you is Earl Roderic of Gigha?" repeated Kenric. 

The three looked one to the other with evil smiles. Roderic drank offwhat remained in his wine cup. 

"I am he, " he said coolly as he again folded his arms. "And who, then, are you who demand to know?"

"Then if you be he, " said Kenric, "you are the vilest man that everbreathed within these walls. Oh, Roderic MacAlpin, unworthy son of anoble and good prince, you have brought the guilt of blood upon yourfather's name! You have slain your own brother, our dear lord andmaster; you have shed his life's blood within his own hall. Deceitfultraitor that you are, you came to this peaceful island in the semblanceof a friend. But, by all that I hold sacred, you shall not leave itagain ere you have been duly judged for your foul crime. "

A burst of mocking laughter from Roderic greeted this speech. 

"And now, " added Kenric, turning to the guard, "take me this man asprisoner to the deepest dungeon. For though he were King Hakon himselfhe should not longer remain as a guest in the castle whose shelter hehas abused. "

"Let one of those varlets but touch me with his hand, " said Roderic, "and I will break his back across my knee. And you, who are you, myyoung knave, that dares to threaten his betters? By St. Olaf, but youare passing bold to speak of prisoning me in the walls wherein I wasborn. Away with you to your couch; this is no hour for bairns to be awake. "

Then turning to the lord of Colonsay he said: "Slip you out behind theyoung whelp, Sweyn, and bring me the knife you wot of. This is surelythe stripling of whom we heard. He barks passing well; let us see if hecan bite. A few ells of cold steel will speedily settle him, I warrant me. "

Earl Sweyn stepped towards the door, but one of the men of Rothesaybounded forward and caught him in his strong arms, struggled with himfor a moment, and then flung him heavily to the floor. 

Roderic, seeing this and waxing wrathful, sprang lightly from his seat, and ere Kenric could well understand his intention he had caught hold ofthe youth and gripped him by his sword hand. He wreathed his otherstrong arm round the lad's lithe body. Long he wrestled with him, but atlast he drew him down by main force with his back across his thigh andhis right hand set hard at his throat. With his left hand he againgripped Kenric's sword hand and tried to wrest the weapon from hisgrasp. But Kenric's wrist was of mighty strength and he held with a gripof iron to the handle of his sword. Then Roderic dragged the lad's handforward and got it between his teeth, that by biting it he might forcehim to loosen his hold of the weapon. And now Kenric must surely havebeen overcome had not Duncan of the long arm at that moment come behindEarl Roderic and rushed upon him and caught him up in his arms. With allthe force of his giant strength the Highlander lifted the man high inthe air and shook him fiercely. Kenric, freeing himself, drew back tothe door, and he saw Duncan fling Earl Roderic upon the table and griphim by the throat. 

"Spare him!" cried Kenric as the seneschal drew his dirk. 

Then Duncan, thrusting his knife in his garter, turned Roderic over withhis face downward, and holding him there with his bare knee on his back, he took off his great plaid and twisting it ropewise he bound the earl'sarms tightly together, so that he could no longer move them. 

The earl of Colonsay had already been pinioned in like manner. ButErland the Old, when he saw Kenric stand free and unharmed, fearing tobe ill treated, rushed out into the corridor. There he was met by Alpin, who, with drawn sword, was about to kill him. His sword was raised inthe act of smiting him when, from the banqueting hall beyond, there camea loud and plaintive cry that echoed throughout the castle like the cryof a wounded eagle. Alpin lowered his weapon and, leaving old Erland tobe arrested by the guards, he sped towards the hall. Kenric, hearingthat scream, followed after him. 

In the hall they found their mother. A crowd of the men and women of thecastle were there with her, holding torches and lighted cruse lamps overthe body of the dead lord of Bute. The Lady Adela was wringing her handsin frantic grief. 

"Who is the villain that hath done this wicked thing?" she cried asAlpin and Kenric entered. 

"Roderic, Earl of Gigha, " answered Kenric. 

"Ah, unhappy hour that ever brought him within these walls! Where is henow?"

"He is made prisoner with his two companions, " said Kenric. 

"Prisoner -- not slain! You have not slain him? Oh, my sons, where isyour spirit? Why have you let him live thus long? And you, Alpin, wherefore did you suffer your father to be left alone with these men?"

"Alas, my mother, was it possible I could foresee this crime?" saidAlpin. "Even my poor father could not have seen treachery through themask of his brother's friendship. "

"There has been some quarrel, " said Dovenald the bard. "Heard you aughtof a dispute between them, young man?"

"Methinks there is little need to seek for a cause of quarrel, " saidKenric. "Roderic of Gigha is even now meditating how he can make himselfthe lord over Bute. No farther shall he go, for he cannot now escape thepenalty that is his due. "

"And what penalty is that?" asked the Lady Adela. 

Kenric turned to Dovenald for reply, knowing well that Dovenald wasbetter learned than any other man in the breast laws of that land. 

"My lady, " said Dovenald, "he must be judged and punished for his crimeas the wise men of Bute shall direct. Justice will be done. Fear not forthat. "

"Justice?" cried she. "I know well what justice means with your wisemen. It is not the worthless fine of a few score of cattle that wouldrepay me for the loss of my dear husband. No, no. A life for a life. Earl Roderic has cruelly slain our good and noble lord, and now I demanda speedy vengeance. "

She flung herself on her knees before her son Alpin. 

"Oh, my sweet son, " she cried, clasping his two hands, "I charge youupon my blessing, and upon the high nobility you inherit, to be revengedupon this traitor for his crime;" and thereupon she took up thebloodstained weapon and forced it into her son's hand. 

Alpin started back and grew pale. 

"Fair mother, " said he, "what may this mean?"

"Take this fatal knife, " said she, "and before the blood is dry upon itsblade drive it into the murderer's black heart. "

Then Alpin, holding the knife, raised his mother in his arms. 

"Dear mother, " said he, "you have given me a great charge, and here Ipromise you I shall be avenged upon Earl Roderic ere long, and that do Ipromise to God and to you. "

"Nay, mother, " appealed Kenric, stepping forward. "In mercy I beg you, charge not my brother with so terrible a mission. Withdraw it, I beseechyou, for you know not what you do in thus exposing Alpin to both dangerand dishonour. For if he take vengeance by stealth, then is histreachery as evil as that of the murderer whom he would punish. If hechallenge this man to mortal combat, then most surely he will be slain, for Roderic, as I have seen, is most powerful of arm, and it is hisheart's desire that he should slay my brother, whose death he hasalready planned. If you would indeed have this man die, then I entreatyou let me, and not Alpin, fulfill your behest. Alpin is now ourrightful king, and his life is of more value than mine. "

Now while Kenric was thus speaking his mother remained in Alpin's arms, with her head upon his shoulder. And when Alpin drew away his arm thatshe might answer Kenric face to face, she turned not round, but sankdown at Alpin's feet, and it was seen that she was in a swoon. 

So Alpin carried her away in his strong arms to her chamber, where thewomen of the castle tended her. But for three long days and nights shelay on her couch in a strange sickness that none could understand. Forthose three days she was unconscious, speaking never a word. 

 CHAPTER VII. THE ARROW OF SUMMONS. 

How the three island kings fared in the dark dungeons of the castle ofRothesay on that fatal night need not be told. Earl Roderic of Gigha haddoubtless in his sea rovings slept on many a less easy couch. But it maybe that in those dark hours of solitude his mind was more disturbed thanwere his hardy limbs. He had come to Bute full of a guilty design, bythe fulfilment of which he had hoped to at last gain possession of therich dominions that he had coveted for twenty years. His own inheritanceof the small island of Gigha was not enough to satisfy his vaultingambition, and the growing power of the King of Norway, who was year byyear extending his territories in the west of Scotland, offered afurther inducement to Roderic, who believed that by slaying his brotherHamish, and taking his place, he might bring the island of Bute underthe protection of the Norwegian crown. 

His design was clumsily planned, for though subtle as a fox, Roderic wasyet an ignorant man, even for those uncultured times, and he had failedto take into account the two sons of Earl Hamish, both of whom stoodbetween him and the coveted earldom, and who now appeared to him as anobstacle not easy to overcome. 

But for the unexpected appearance of Kenric, however, even this obstaclein his path might have been cleared, for he had planned that in thedarkness and quiet of the night he would steal into the sleeping chamberof Alpin and so deal with him that he would never again waken to claimhis dead father's lands. Roderic had learned from the Lady Adela thather younger son, Kenric, was but a boy of sixteen, living with thelearned abbot of St. Blane's, and to the wicked earl of Gigha it seemedthat Kenric might be disposed of by very simple means. 

But now, even after having slain his brother, he had failed in hisobject. Instead of being king in Bute, he was a prisoner in the deepestdungeon of Rothesay Castle. 

The moor fowl had scarcely shaken the dew from off their wings ere thetwo sons of the dead Earl Hamish were climbing the heathery heightsbehind Rothesay. With them went the aged Dovenald, bearing in his arms ayoung goat, white as the driven snow. When they were upon the topmostknoll they stood a while. Dovenald laid down the bleating kid, whoselittle feet were tethered one to the other, and he bade the two youthsgo about and gather some dry twigs of heather and gorse that a firemight be made. 

A soft breeze from over the moorland played with the silvery locks ofthe old man's bare head. He turned his face to the east and lookedacross the gray waters of the Clyde, where above the hills ofCunningham, the dawn was breaking into day. Southward then he gazed andwatched the giant mountains of Arran that were half shrouded in rosymists. Very soon the golden light of the rising sun kissed here andthere the jagged peaks of Goatfell, and Dovenald bent his head andmurmured a prayer, calling upon God to shed His light into the hearts ofmen and to guide them in the solemn work they were called upon to fulfilthat day. Then he turned to Alpin. 

"Now kindle me the fire, " he said. "Here are flint and steel. 

"And, Kenric, give me the arrow. "

He took the arrow in his hand and waited till the fire was well alight. With the arrow's point he stirred the flaming twigs, and the two youthslooked on. 

"And now take your dirk, Alpin, " said he, "and slay me the kid. Give aslittle pain as may be, for it is not well that the innocent thing shouldsuffer. "

Kenric held the animal while his brother drove his sharp dirk into itswhite and throbbing throat. The kid turned its soft blue eyes upon himand gave a plaintive bleat. Its warm breath rose visible in the morningair and then died away. 

"'Tis done!" said Kenric, and Dovenald brought the burning arrow andextinguished it in the kid's blood. With the innocent blood he smearedthe arrow's shaft. 

"Fly now as speedily as your feet can carry you to the castle ofKilmory, " said the old man to Alpin, giving him the arrow, "and you willgive this burnt arrow into the hands of Sir Oscar Redmain. No need haveyou to tell him the meaning thereof. It is a summons ordained by ancientcustom, and well known to all the wise men of Bute. Sir Oscar willdespatch it to our good father the abbot of St. Blane's. The abbot willin like manner send it to Ronald Gray of Scoulag. So, in turn, will itpass round to each of the twelve wise ruthmen, calling them one and allto hasten to the Seat of Law on the great plain beside Ascog mere, thatthey may there in solemn assize pronounce judgment upon the traitor whohath slain our king. 

"Haste! haste! my son. Why do you tarry?"

"Have I not sworn an oath on my mother's blessing that I will have thisman Roderic's life? Why, then, should this assize be assembled?"

"Go, do my bidding, rash boy, " said Dovenald sternly. "Seek not tooppose the customs of your ancestors, and let not your thirst forvengeance now blind you to the folly of violence. Go, I command you; andbelieve me the earl of Gigha shall not escape just retribution. "

Alpin, then, taking the arrow in his right hand, ran off at a brisk pacedown the hill. Kenric took up the dead kid and walked at Dovenald's sidetowards Rothesay. 

"Rash, rash that he is, " murmured the old man. "Much do I fear that hewill make but a sorry king. He is over hasty, and his judgment isofttimes wrong. He will not rule as did his father. The Lady Adela hathspoiled him with her caresses. "

"You are over hard upon my brother, " said Kenric. "There lives not a manin the Western Isles better fitted than Alpin for the great office ofkingship. He is just, and noble, and trusty. No man in all Bute can saythat he ever broke a promise or told an untruth. Think you that becausehe is hasty with his dirk he is therefore a thoughtless loon, who knowsnot when a gentle word can do more service than a blow? When did he everdraw dirk or sword without just cause? You do not know him as I do, Dovenald, or you would not breathe a word in his dispraise. And if mygentle mother loves him above all else next to my father, whom she hasnow lost, who shall say that Alpin is not deserving of her great favour?"

The old retainer walked on in silence. 

Presently he turned to Kenric and said: "What has your brother done withthe weapon wherewith my lord was slain? He tried in the dead of night togain entrance to the traitor Roderic that he might use that fatal knifeeven as my lady so weakly charged him to do. Where is it, I say?"

"I know not, " said Kenric. "But methinks 'tis a pity he did not drive itinto the villain's heart. "

"My son! my son! let me not hear you utter such evil thoughts again. Itill becomes a pupil of our holy abbot to speak thus. And yesternight youwere disposed to leave the guilty earl to whatever punishment the wisemen should appoint. "

"Reflection has changed me, Dovenald; and were Roderic before me at thismoment I would willingly lay him dead at my feet. Should Alpin fail toslay him, then will I fulfil my revenge. In fair fight or by stealthRoderic shall surely die. "

"Alas, that I should ever hear such words from one so young!" murmuredDovenald. 

And the old man continued his complaints until they had entered thecastle gates. 

 CHAPTER VIII. AN ERIACH FINE. 

Under the clear sky of high noon the people of Bute had assembled on thegreat plain of Laws, at the margin of Loch Ascog. They had come from allparts of the island, for the word had travelled round with the swiftnessof a bird's flight that their good king, Earl Hamish, had been cruellyslain by his own brother, and all were eager not only to see the man whohad done this treacherous deed, but also to hear judgment passed uponhim for his crime. 

At the foot of the great standing stone Sir Oscar Redmain, as steward orprefect of Bute, took his seat as judge. Noble and comely he looked, holding his great glittering sword, point upward, waiting for theprisoner and his accuser. At his right stood Godfrey Thurstan, the goodabbot of St. Blane's, with his cowl drawn over his reverend head toshield him from the warm sun. At his left Dovenald, most learned in thelaws of the land, ready to explain and discuss the ancient legalcustoms; and round them in a circle were the others of the twelveruthmen. The witnesses or compurgators stood in an outer ring within afencing of cords running from stake to stake. Without the verge of thesacred circle of justice were gathered a great crowd of islanders --herdsmen and husbandmen, tribesmen, fishermen, and thralls -- who hadleft their labours on hill and in vale, or on the sea, and come hithercrying out loud for speedy vengeance. 

Duncan Graham the seneschal and his guards of the castle had alreadygone amongst these onlookers to see that no man carried weapons, for itwas held in strict custom that none should bear arms or make disturbanceat such a time on pain of life and limb. 

These hardy islanders, as they stood in silence, were a rugged set ofmen, with sunburnt faces and bushy beards. Many of them were clothed ingarments of sheepskin, others of a better condition wore a plaid ormantle of frieze. They had buskins made of rawhide, and a knittedbonnet, though many of them wore no covering for their heads but theirown shaggy hair tied back with a leathern strap. 

The assize being sworn and admitted the abbot stepped forward and calledupon the God of the Christians to punish the peace breaker. Then thecrowd opened and young Alpin came in, stalwart, handsome, noble, andbowed before the judge. 

He wore a mantle of tartan, clasped at the shoulder by a silver buckle. His legs were swathed in fine cloth and cross-gartered below the bareknees, and his feet were encased in brogues with silver clasps. His longhair was well combed, and it hung about his broad shoulders in darkbrown locks. A deep hum of praise rose in greeting from many throats ashe stood in the light of the noonday sun. 

"Hail to Earl Alpin, king of Bute!" cried one. 

"Long life to the king!" cried another; and the cries were taken up bythe whole assembly, dying away in echoes among the far-off hills. 

Then Alpin raised his hand and asked that the chain of silence should beshaken; and when one of the guards had shaken the rattling chains andall were listening with bated breath he took up and made his plea, demanding prompt justice on the slayer of his father. 

"And whom do you charge with this foul crime?" asked Sir Oscar Redmain, though indeed none needed to be told. 

"I charge Roderic MacAlpin, king of Gigha, " said Alpin, and at thatthere was a great yell of execration. 

"Down with the traitor! Death to him!" was the cry as the crowd opened. 

And Alpin turning round saw Duncan Graham -- taller by a head than thetallest man there present -- leading in the criminal, followed by histwo companions of Colonsay and Jura. 

In a moment Alpin sprang forward at his enemy. He raised his right handand all saw that he held the bloodstained knife. 

"Die, slayer of the just!" he cried, bringing down the weapon uponRoderic's breast. 

But Roderic of Gigha laughed a mocking laugh, and catching Alpin by thewrist he threw him backward. Duncan Graham broke his fall and tore theweapon from his grasp. 

"Oh, foolish lad!" he murmured, "to attempt such a thing within the veryfences of the court!"

"Alpin of Bute, " said the judge gravely as he rose from his seat, "youhave done that which no other man in this land might do without theseverest punishment. You are here to plead the cause of justice, and notto insult those whom you have summoned to this place to do justice foryou. Bear yourself discreetly, or resign your cause into the hands ofthose who can control their wrath. "

Alpin scowled as he again took his place before the judge, and then whensilence had been restored he proceeded to state the whole caseconcerning the killing of his father. 

By his side stood Kenric, who helped him when he faltered in hisnarrative. The two brothers might almost have been mistaken for masterand serf, so much did their appearance differ. Kenric's face wasunwashed and streaked with the traces of tears. His brown hair, lighterthan Alpin's, was rough and tangled, and now, as always, he wore nocovering on his head. His coarse buckskin coat looked mean beside thericher apparel of his brother, and his buskins were ill-tied and hiskilt was dusty and tattered. The elder brother was taller and more litheof body; but Kenric's bare arms and legs were thick and strong, anddespite his coarse clothing he bore himself no less nobly upright thandid Alpin. 

"Roderic, son of Alpin, what have you to say in defence for this gravecrime whereof you are accused?" asked Sir Oscar Redmain when Alpin hadtold his tale. 

The two lads stepped back and Roderic took their place. His long goldenhair as the sunlight fell upon it shone scarcely less bright than thewell-wrought dragon that twined its scaled form upon his burnished helmof brass. He looked towards his judge with bold defiance in his blue eyes. 

"What the boy says is true, " said he. "I slew my brother Hamish. I slewhim upon his own hearth stone. But it was in fair fight that I did it;and I call my two friends, the lords of Jura and Colonsay, to bear meout in the truth of what I say. "

There was a loud howl of rage from the crowd as he spoke these falsewords, and no one tried to stifle those outbursts of popular feeling. 

"'Tis a lie you tell!" cried Kenric furiously as he pushed his brotheraside and confronted Earl Roderic. "You say it was in fair fight yousmote my father his death blow. Oh, perjured villain! Where, then, wasmy father's weapon? Had he been armed with a knife such as the one youused, methinks you would not now be here to utter your false words. Yourown arms were left in the armoury hail, where 'twas right they shouldbe; and you took up the knife from the board, knowing full well what youmeant to do with it. Oh, Roderic MacAlpin, may your tongue shrivel inyour throat ere you utter such base and wicked lies again! You came tothis island, the land of your fathers, with the evil purpose of climbingover our dead bodies to the kingship that you covet --"

Roderic bit his lips with rage and doubled his great fists as he steppedforward to smite young Kenric to the ground. Kenric drew back. 

"I know it, " continued Kenric with full and sonorous voice that mighthave been heard at the further side of Ascog mere. "I know your purpose, Roderic of Gigha. Think you that there are none of us that canunderstand the Norse tongue in which you spake to your two basecomrades? /I/ know that tongue. I heard your craven moans of anguishwhen you came out from that darkened hall wherein my father lay dead. Iheard you tell of how you meant to slay the vixen and her cubs. And whoare they? My mother and Alpin and me! My mother, whom you flattered withsoft speeches -- my mother, in whose presence you were not worthy tobreathe, and whose noble heart you have now broken by your murderoustreachery. And you would have slain her as you slew our father. I thankthe great God who stayed your hand from fulfilling such devil's work tothe end. May He punish you as you deserve to be punished for the evilyou have done!"

A deep silence followed upon this speech, and then a thousand lustyvoices broke out in a prolonged groan of imprecation. But Roderic ofGigha only turned to Erland the Old and smiled. 

Kenric looked to the crowd that stood behind the judge's seat, and therehe saw Ailsa Redmain standing with her brother Allan; and Ailsa's eyesglistened with approval of what Kenric had just spoken, and he took newcourage. 

"Men of Bute, " said Sir Oscar Redmain, turning to the ruthmen, "ye haveheard what has passed. It is now for you to pronounce judgment upon theaccused man. What say you?"

"That Earl Roderic is guilty of the crime, " said Ronald Gray, theirspokesman, "and that he shall pay the highest penalty that our laws canimpose. "

"Then, " said Alpin, "I claim that Roderic of Gigha shall die the death. "

But at that the wise men shook their heads. 

"In the time of my father, the good king Alpin, " said Roderic with avoice of triumph, "it was ordained, as all of you must surely know, thatno man should die for the slaying of his enemy unless he were caughtred-handed and with the weapon in his hand; but that for taking the lifeof a man in hot blood he should be assoiled or cleansed on payment ofthe eriach fine, which is nine score of kine, to the kin of his victim. And I ask Dovenald Dornoch if this be not so?"

At this Alpin held speech with Dovenald the lawman, and his face grewsullen in disappointment. 

"Alas!" said Alpin to Sir Oscar, "what Earl Roderic hath said is indeedtrue; for it seems that my grandsire, king Alpin, and also my father, who is dead, did in their mercy so ordain that crimes of violence shouldbe dealt with in such manner that the traitor might have time in whichto repent of his ill deeds and commend himself to God. But for theslaying of a king the fine is not nine score, but six times nine-scoreof kine, or three thousand golden oras. And if that fine be not paidwithin a year and a day, then shall the traitor die the death. And now, oh men of Bute, since that I cannot see this man die -- as, would that Imight! -- I call upon him for the due payment of my eriach fine. Andmoreover, oh judge, you and the wise men of Bute whom I see here presentare guarantees for the full payment, and you shall see that it be paidwithin a year and a day. "

Now this was far from being what Roderic wished, for well he knew thatno man in all the Western Isles would spare him if he failed to pay theprice of his liberty. But also he knew that neither in cattle nor inother movable wealth was it in his power to pay the value of a thousandhead of cattle in so short a time. So he up and told this to Sir OscarRedmain. 

"I cannot pay the fine, " he said; "for not in all my lands and ships doI possess such wealth nor know I any man who would be my broch, or bail. "

"Then, " said Sir Oscar, "if that be so, I now pronounce you an outlaw inthe Western Isles and in Scotland, and our sovereign lord, KingAlexander, shall ratify that sentence upon you forthwith. You shall bean outlaw for the term of three years and three days. For those threedays you shall live within the sanctuary of Dunagoil and under theprotection of the good abbot of St. Blane's. On the third day, orbefore, you shall take ship and depart hence whithersoever the holyabbot shall direct you. "

Then turned Sir Oscar to the crowd. 

"Men of Bute, " said he, "I charge you all that if within three years tocome any of you shall see this man Roderic MacAlpin within the isle ofBute, or within his forfeited lands of Gigha and Cara, or in any otherland in the dominions of the King of Scots, you shall put him to thesword and slay him. "

There was a loud cry of assent; and Roderic, wrathful at his position, felt at his side for his absent sword. 

Here again were his plans defeated. The sentence passed upon himrequired that during his three days of grace in the sanctuary of thechurch lands no man should molest him or hold speech with him. How, then, could he hope to compass the death of the two lads, Alpin andKenric, who stood in the way of his ambition? Turning his eyes withfierce malice upon the two brothers he stepped boldly to the front. 

"There is yet another way for me, " he cried aloud. "Think you that I, aking, am to be hunted about by a set of wolves like these? No, no. Now, on this spot and before you all, do I claim wager of battle, for that ismy due. Let any man of you stand forth and meet me in fair fight, and Iwill fight him to the death. "

Then Duncan Graham, the seneschal, came forward in his towering height, and said he:

"I will fight you, treacherous earl, for you deserve to die!"

"You!" exclaimed Roderic, awed at the man's giant height. "Not so. Anearl may hold such combat with none but his equals. I will not crossswords with a low-born churl like you. Show me a man whose blood isworthier of my steel. "

"Coward!" cried Duncan; "you are afraid to cross arms with me. I wouldslay you at the first passage. "

"There is but one among you who is of my own rank, " said Roderic, "andthere he stands;" and he pointed to Alpin. 

"And I am ready, " said Alpin. "I will engage with you to the death. AndGod defend the right!"

 CHAPTER IX. THE ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 

While Duncan Graham and one of the guards went back to the castle ofRothesay to bring the swords of Alpin and Roderic, Sir Oscar Redmainpronounced the assize at an end; and such as wished not to witness thedeadly combat -- the abbot Godfrey and some few women -- went away. 

Then Roderic stood apart with Erland the Old and Sweyn the Silent, bidding them not wait for their weapons, but to slip away out of thecrowd and get them to their ship, and so away to their island homes. 

"Our project has so far failed, " said he; "but be assured that I shallyet gain the lordship over Bute. They have made me an outlaw, and I fearme that Redmain will most surely communicate this whole matter to theKing of Scots. Well, be it so; we shall see what Alexander can do. Methinks it will not be long that he will hold his own against us. Whenthese three years of my outlawry are over you shall see such things aswill surprise you. Farewell, good Erland, and you, dear Sweyn! Hold youboth fast by King Hakon. That is our highest game; and so we serve himwell there is no fear but we will reap a good harvest of power. "

"God grant it may be so!" said Erland; "for if his Majesty of Norwayfail in conquering Scotland, then are we all lost men. Farewell, then!"

When Sir Oscar Redmain had left the seat of justice his daughter Ailsacrept within the circle of the court, and there she found Kenric. 

"As I came hither, " she said, "I saw Elspeth Blackfell; and she bade meask you, Kenric, if what she spake had aught of sooth in it?"

"Ah, " said Kenric, "right truly did she tell what was to befall. Foreven as it was with your nest of ouzels, Ailsa, so has it been with thecastle of Rothesay. This man Roderic, is he not even as the stoat thatharried the nest?"

"Even so, " said Ailsa. "But the stoat also slew the fledgling as well asthe parent bird. Elspeth, when she heard that the good Earl Hamish hadbeen so cruelly slain, looked grave, and, said she, 'Hasten, Ailsa, tothe sons of Rothesay and bid them still be wary of this man. Not untilhe is dead will all danger from him be past. ' Those were her words, Kenric; and lest there should be truth in them I have come to you asspeedily as I might. Alpin is about to engage in mortal combat. Bid himbe wary, bid him arm himself well; for I heard one of the shepherds saythat Roderic is clothed in a shirt of iron network, and that if it hadnot been so the knife wherewith Alpin smote him would have slain himwhere he stood. "

"Ailsa, " said Kenric, "much do I fear me that there is ample need ofthis warning. Help me, I beseech you. Run to the castle and bid Duncannot fail to bring my brother's coat of mail. "

Then Ailsa disappeared and like a lapwing ran across the moorland. 

Not long had she been gone when Duncan appeared, bearing two greatclaymores. But he had not brought the coat of mail; and Kenric seeingthis drew his brother aside and bade him tarry until Ailsa shouldreturn, that he might protect his body with the chain shirt, and so beequal with his foe. 

The men of Bute then went in a vast crowd to the lower march besideAscog mere, for it was against the ancient custom that any blood shouldbe shed within the sacred circle reserved for the administration of thelaws. And they formed a great ring upon the level ground, in the midstof which stood Earl Roderic alone, with his great two-handed sword inhis hand, and the sun glancing upon his helm as he held his head proudlyaloft. 

And the cry went about:

"Alpin! where is Alpin? Is he then afraid?"

But soon a gap was made in the circle and Alpin strode boldly forwardwith a light step. 

Kenric, who had sent Ailsa away, telling her that it was no sight for agirl, stood beside Sir Oscar and Allan Redmain, and he told how Ailsahad brought Alpin's armour. 

"Then am I much relieved, " said Sir Oscar. "Nevertheless there is no manI know, unless it be Sir Piers de Currie, who can handle a sword as yourbrother can; and methinks Earl Roderic will not easily bear up againsthim. Look at them both. Alpin is fresh and lithe as a young stag. Ah, Roderic, methinks your hour has surely come!"

Alpin dressed the end of his plaid about his left arm and pulled out hissword. He stood at five paces from his foe. Then both swerved about withtheir heads bent forward. Still keeping apart, eyeing one the other, round and round they traversed. Then Alpin got his back to the sunlight, drew himself up, and flung back his sword. With a fierce cry they rushedtogether and their swords clashed with mighty strokes. Then they bothreeled backward two strides to recover. Tracing and traversing againthey leapt at each other as noble men who had often been well proved incombat, and neither would stint until they both lacked wind, and theystood a while panting and blowing, each grasping his weapon ready tobegin again. 

When they had rested they went to battle once more, tracing and foiningand hurtling together, so that none who beheld them could know which waslike to win the battle. Their clothing was so far hewn that the chainsof their coats of mail could be seen. Alpin had a cut across his knee, Roderic's arm was bleeding. 

Roderic was a wily man of war, and his wily fighting taught Alpin to bewise and to guard well his bare head, for it was ever at his head thatRoderic aimed. Often he smote such strokes as made Alpin stagger andkneel; but in a moment the youth leapt lightly to his feet and rushed athis foe, until Roderic's arms and face were red with blood. 

The crowd about them hailed Alpin's dexterous fighting with lusty criesof approval, and none doubted that he would soon make an end of hisboastful antagonist. But neither had yet gained the upper hand. 

So for a full half-hour they fought, until Alpin at length sorelywounded Roderic on the shoulder. At that Roderic was wroth out ofmeasure, and he rushed upon Alpin, doubling his mighty strokes. Theirswords clashed and clanged and flashed in bright circles through theair. But at last, by fortune, Roderic smote Alpin's sword out of hishand, and if Alpin had stooped to pick it up surely he would have beenslain. 

He stood still a moment and beheld his weapon with a sorrowful heart. There was a deep groan of anguish from the crowd, and Kenric, seeing theperil in which his brother was placed, would have rushed forward toAlpin's help had not Duncan Graham held him back, fearing that he toomight find himself in Earl Roderic's power. Then Allan Redmain was aboutto run in to Alpin's aid, but his father caught his arm and bade himstand back. 

"How now?" cried Roderic. "Now have I got you at an advantage as you hadme yesternight. But it shall never be said that Roderic of Gigha wouldmeanly slay any man who was weaponless. And therefore take up yoursword, Earl Alpin, and let us make an end of this battle. "

Roderic then drew back that Alpin might without hindrance take up hissword. Then into Roderic's eyes there came a look of fixed fury, and inthat look Alpin read his doom. 

Again they took their ground, and this time neither seemed so eager tospring at the other. But at last young Alpin leapt wildly at his foe, with his sword upraised in the grip of his two hands. Down came hisweapon with a mighty swing, and all thought surely that blow would beRoderic's end. But Roderic sprang lightly aside, so that the young man'saim was spent upon the soft ground. Roderic's sword flashed in a circleabove his crested helm. There was a dull crunching sound, and then adeep groan. 

Kenric promptly rushed to his brother's side and tried to raise him fromthe ground. But the sword of Roderic of Gigha had done its work. EarlAlpin was dead. 

Then the men of Bute, seeing what had befallen their young king, raiseda wailing cry that rent the sunny air, and they closed in their ranksaround their fallen chief. 

Earl Roderic looked but for a moment at Alpin, and then swinging hisbloodstained sword from right to left he passed through the crowd ofmen. For the islanders, having just left the court of the mooting, werenone of them armed. So when Roderic made his way into their midst theyfell back beyond the range of his swinging blade. 

They saw that he was making his way towards the shores of the lake, which was but a few paces from where the battle had been fought. Many ofthem picked up great stones and flung them after him and struck him onthe back. 

"Down with the base traitor!" they cried. 

But he little heeded either their missiles or their menacing cries. Onhe sped until his feet were ankle deep in the mere. Then he turned roundfor a moment and saw young Kenric, armed with his brother's sword, withSir Oscar Redmain, Allan, Duncan Graham, and many others pursuing him. 

He sent up a hollow mocking laugh as he lightly sheathed his sword. Thenhe waded farther into the loch and threw himself into the deeper waters, so that only his glancing helm could be seen above the surface. As theantlered stag, pursued by men and hounds, swims swiftly over themountain tarn to the safety of crag and fell, so swam Earl Rodericbefore the fury of the men of Bute. And none dared follow him, for it issaid that that loch is deeper than the hills are high. 

So many ran round to the farther shores that they might there meet himand assail him with showers of stones. In the brief time that had passedbetween two settings of the sun this man, this traitorous sea rover, hadtaken the lives of two kings -- the well-beloved Hamish, who had ruledover that little nation for a score of peaceful and prosperous years, and Alpin, his son and successor, who had fallen ere yet he had knownthe power of his kingship. And forgetting that by the sentence ofoutlawry which their judge had passed but two hours before, Roderic hadbeen allowed three days of grace, during which it was a crime to molesthim, they were driven to the extremity of wild rage; they thirsted forhis blood. 

It was not now enough that he should quit their island with histreachery unavenged; they wanted to strike him down that the world mightno longer harbour a villain whose evil deeds were blacker and moreterrible than any the oldest man in Bute had ever known. 

But ere they had turned either point of the lake Roderic had alreadygained the firm ground on the western shore, and now he shook the waterfrom him and sat down on a large stone to rest his limbs and to dresshis bleeding wounds. 

Soon he heard the rumour of men's angry cries coming nearer and nearer, like the yelping of a pack of wolves. Rising and looking about him hesaw many men running towards him from north and from south through thedingle of Lochly; and now most surely he might think that he wasentrapped, for he was upon the strip of land that divides Loch Ascogfrom Loch Fad. 

His deep voice rang out across the moorland like the bellowing call ofthe stag that challenges his rival in the glens. Bracing his long swordabout his back he crossed westward over the rising ground until he camein view of the quiet waters of Loch Fad, where a flock of wild swans, startled at his approach, flew over towards the forest of Barone. 

The two companies of islanders closed in upon him, believing doubtlessthat he would be speedily overcome. The one band was led by Sir OscarRedmain and his son, the other by Duncan Graham and Kenric. 

Roderic ran onward to the water's edge, and ere the first stone that wasthrown could reach him he had plunged into Loch Fad, and as he swamoutward stones and clods of turf fell in showers about his head. A stonethrown by Kenric struck him on the helmet. He sank deep down, and allbelieved that the water would be his death. But, like the diver bird ofhis native seas, he went under but to appear again many yards awaybeyond the reach of any weapon but the arrow, and of arrows there werenone in all that company. 

Now Loch Fad, which is the largest of the lakes of Bute, is full twomiles long and but four furlongs wide, and it was useless for any tothink of meeting the fugitive earl on the farther shore. So at thebidding of Sir Oscar Redmain the men all gave up the chase and turnedback to where the dead body of Lord Alpin lay prone upon the turf, andthence they bore him to the castle of Rothesay. 

 CHAPTER X. AASTA'S CURSE. 

Roderic of Gigha, for all that he had been absent from Bute for a scoreof years, had not forgotten the old landmarks that had been familiar tohim in boyhood. After swimming across Loch Fad he found himself amongthe tall pine trees of the forest of Barone. Wet and weary after hisescape from his pursuers, and smarting sorely of his many wounds, hepassed through the forest glades and emerged at the point where, on theevening before, Kenric had entered. 

As he skirted the lands of Kilmory he saw a herd of shaggy long-hornedcattle browsing there, with many sheep and goats. He looked about fortheir shepherd that he might ask him concerning the earls of Jura andColonsay. He began to regret that he had so lightly dismissed hisfriends, who might better have waited to carry him in their ship to Gigha. 

Presently he heard voices from behind a great rock. A young sheepdogappeared, but when it saw him it turned tail and slunk away as if itwere afraid of him. Then from behind the rock came young Lulach the herdboy, and with him a most beautiful girl. Lulach stood for a momentlooking at the strange man. 

"Ah, 'tis he! 'Tis he whom we were but now speaking of!" he cried, anddropping the brown bread cake that he had been eating he ran away downthe hill in terror. 

But the girl stood still, with her hand resting on the rock. 

Now this girl was the same strange maiden who had appeared somysteriously before Kenric on his night journey through the forest. Tallshe was and very fair -- tall and graceful as a young larch tree, andfair as the drifted snow whose surface reflects the red morning sun. Hereyes were blue as the starry sky, and her long hair fell upon her whiteskin like a dark stream of blood. Men named this wondrous maiden Aastathe Fair. 

Earl Roderic started back at sight of her great beauty as she stoodbefore him in her gray and ragged garments, for she was but a poorthrall who worked upon the lands of Kilmory, minding the goats upon thehills or mending the fishermen's nets down on the shore. 

"Fair damsel, " said he, "tell me, I pray you, if you have seen pass byan aged man and his companion towards the bay of Scalpsie?"

"'Tis but an hour ago that they passed hence, " said Aasta. "Cursed bethe occasion that brought both them and you into this isle!"

Then she pointed across the blue moor of the sea where, under the shadowof the high coast of Arran, a vessel appeared as a mere speck upon thedark water. 

"Yonder sails their ship into the current of Kilbrannan Sound. "

"Alas!" said Roderic, "and I am too late. "

"Alas, indeed!" said Aasta. "Methinks they had better have tarried totake away with them the false traitor they have left upon our shores. What manner of foul work detained you that you went not hence with yourevil comrades? But the blood that I now see flowing from your woundstells its own tale. You have slain Earl Alpin in the fight. Woe be uponyou!"

"Even so, " said Roderic, "for hard though he pressed me with hisvigorous blows, yet my good sword was true to the last, and I clove hisyoung head in twain. "

"Woe to you, woe to you, Roderic of Gigha!" cried Aasta, shrinking fromhis approach. "Curses be upon you for the evil work that you have done. May you never again know peace upon this earth. May those you love -- ifany such there be -- may they be torn from you and slain before youreyes. Worse than brute that you are, meaner than the meanest worm thatcreeps, curse you, curse you!"

Then as Aasta drew yet farther back her hand was caught by another handwhich drew her gently aside, and from behind the rock appeared the gauntfigure of old Elspeth Blackfell. And Lulach the herd boy, havingovercome his fears, crept nearer and stood apart. 

Roderic paused at seeing the old crone, and his face grew pale. 

"Unworthy son of Bute!" said Elspeth, pointing her thin finger at theisland king, "you have heard this good maiden's curse. Even so do allthe dwellers in Bute curse you at this hour. But the great God who seesinto all hearts, and in whose hands alone must rest our vengeance -- Hewill surely repay you for the sorrows that your wickedness has caused. Go, Roderic MacAlpin. Go, ere it is too late, and before the high altarof St. Blane's pray to Him for the mercy and forgiveness that you sorelyneed. "

Roderic bowed his head and nervously clasped and unclasped his hands. 

"Go while there is yet time and confess your sins, " continued Elspeth. "And if there is aught of penitence in your black heart then seek fromour good and holy abbot the means whereby you may fulfil your penanceduring the days that remain to you on earth. "

It seemed that a great change had come over him as he walked away, forhis step was halting and his head was bowed. He walked along by thecliffs that are at the verge of the sea; southward past Scalpsie andLubas and Barr, then inland to the little chapel of St. Blane's. Andever at his heels hobbled Elspeth Blackfell. 

When Earl Roderic had entered the holy place to open his heart inconfession to the abbot, Elspeth waited on the headland above the bay ofDunagoil. In that bay there was a ship, and the shipmen were unloadingher of a cargo of English salt and other commodities of the far south. Presently the old woman went downward to the beach, and there heldspeech with the shipmaster, who, as it chanced, being a man of Wales, could make shift to understand the Gaelic tongue, and from him shelearned that the ship was to leave at the ebb tide for England. 

Now Elspeth had seen young Ailsa Redmain as the girl was passing to herfather's castle, and Ailsa had told her how the wicked lord of Gigha hadbeen made an outlaw. So Elspeth questioned the shipmaster, asking him ifhe would be free to carry this man away from Bute. 

"My good dame, " said the mariner, "that will I most gladly do, for yourholy bishop or abbot, or whatever he be, hath already paid me the sum offour golden pieces in agreeing that I shall do this thing -- though forthe matter of that, this man is a king in his own land, and methinks thehonour were ample payment without the gold; so if the winds permit, andwe meet no rascally pirates by the way, I make no doubt that ere thenext new moon we shall be snug and safe against the walls of our goodcity of Chester. "

So ere the curtain of night had fallen over the Arran hills the outlawedearl of Gigha had left behind him the little isle of Bute, and it wasthereafter told how he had in secret confessed his manifold sins to theabbot of St. Blane's, and how in deep contrition he had solemnly swornat the altar to make forthwith the pilgrimage of penance to the HolyLand, there to spend the three years of his exile in the service of theCross. 

 CHAPTER XI. THE SWORD OF SOMERLED. 

Now when Kenric, following sadly behind the body of his brother, camewithin sight of the castle of Rothesay his heart sank heavy with the woethat was upon him. He thought of how his mother had pressed upon Alpinthe charge of vengeance, and of how that charge had ended. He would farrather have given up his own life than face his mother and tell her theterrible tale of how the man whom Alpin had sworn to slay had himselfslain Alpin. And he was sorrowful beyond measure. 

They bore the body of their dead young king into the great hall, andlaid him on a bier beside the body of his father, the good Earl Hamish, and the curtains were drawn and many candles and torches were lightedand set round the two biers, while two of the friars of St. Blane'sknelt there in solemn prayer. 

Then Kenric went to the door of his mother's chamber and knocked, andold Janet, a retainer of many years, came out to him. 

"Alas!" said she, "my lady your mother is passing ill, and she hathspoken never a word these many hours. We have sent forth a messenger toElspeth Blackfell, who is skilled beyond all in Bute for her craft insimples. But Elspeth was abroad, and the messenger returned without her. "

"Then will I go myself and find her, " said Kenric. 

So he went down into the courtyard and called his favourite houndFingall, that he might have companionship in his quest. But the dog gaveno answer to his call, and searching for it he found the animal lyingmoaning in a corner of the yard and writhing as in pain. 

"The dog well knows that our master, Earl Hamish, is dead, " said one ofthe servitors. "Grief is killing him. "

"Not so, " said Kenric. "The dog is ill. What manner of food has he eaten?"

"Naught save the few scraps of venison that my lady left upon her plateafter the feast, " said the servitor. 

"Methinks, then, " said Kenric, "that I must even go alone. But see youthat my poor friend is well tended, for even though he be but a dumbhound, he is a true and a faithful one, and I would not that he should die. "

Now, as he walked over the hill of Barone, Kenric thought upon thisstrange illness that had befallen his dog; and suddenly, as though alight had flashed into his mind, he remembered how Alpin had told him ofthe feast, and of how Earl Roderic, sitting at my lady's side, had cutup her venison for her; and also of how my lady, ere she had eaten but afew pieces of the venison, had left the board. It was the same platefulof venison that the dog had eaten, and now both the Lady Adela and thedog were ill. 

Then Kenric saw clearly that this was but another of the base schemes ofhis treacherous uncle, who, not yet certain by what means he shouldcompass the death of Earl Hamish, had taken this poisonous course toassure himself that the Lady Adela should be ill on that night, andpowerless to interfere in the crime that was in his mind. 

"Oh, devil's messenger, or devil himself that thou art!" he cried. "Cursed be the hour that brought you in our midst, Roderic MacAlpin. Youhave slain my father, you have slain my brother; my dear mother is nowby your cruel hand laid helpless on her couch. But by my father's souland by my mother's blessing, I swear that you shall die. By my hand andnone other you shall perish! Oh, God in mercy give me strength -- giveme power to kill this man of blood!"

Then at high speed he ran down the hillside, and the grouse birds lyinglow in the heather rose with startled cries and flew off to the furtherheights, uttering sounds as of mocking laughter. 

Between Loch Dhu and Kilmory, as he crossed towards the marshes, a flockof lapwings rose in alarm, and Kenric knew by their cries that someother than himself was near. He turned his course, thinking that oldElspeth might be there, passing homeward from the peat casting. 

Beside the rock where, three hours before, Earl Roderic had stood, hefound Lulach the herd boy, and on the height of the rock sat Aastatwining a wreath of daisies in her blood-red hair. When they saw Kenricthey both stepped forward, and together they threw themselves upon theground before him, pressing his coarse garments to their lips. 

"Give you good day, my lord the king, " they both said. 

Thus did it chance that these two humble thralls, Lulach and Aasta, werethe first of all the dwellers in Bute to hail Lord Kenric as their king, and not till then did Kenric remember that by the death of Alpin he wasnow indeed the rightful lord of Bute, and he thought of the prophecy ofElspeth Blackfell. Disturbed in mind at the so early homage of Aasta andLulach, he bade them rise. 

"For your courtesy I thank you, " he said. "But tell me, I pray you, where is Dame Elspeth gone, and where may I find her? For my mother, theLady Adela, is passing ill. "

"The Lady Adela ill!" echoed Aasta. "Alas! alas!"

"Elspeth has gone these two hours past towards Dunagoil, " said Lulach. "So please you, my lord, I will run after her and bid her hasten to mylady's aid. "

"Yes, Lulach, run, run like the wind!" cried Aasta, and the lad ran off. 

Kenric was about to follow him, when Aasta drew him back. 

"One will serve as well as two, my lord, " said she, "and methinks itwere better that you sped back to Rothesay. Lulach will not fail. "

"But I have yet another purpose, Aasta, " said Kenric. "I would find thebase villain, Roderic of Gigha. "

"'Twas he whom Dame Elspeth followed, " said the girl, "and he has goneto the abbey of St. Blane's, there to confess his sins. "

"Alas!" said Kenric; "then if he has taken sanctuary I am powerless tomolest him, for even though I would willingly lay him dead at my feet, yet it were sacrilege to spill blood in the precincts of the abbey. "

"But you are weaponless, my lord. "

"I have my dirk, " said he, showing the weapon in his belt. 

"As well take a hazel wand as that poor thing, " said she. "This man inhis late contest with your noble brother has slain a sprightlierswordsman than yourself, Earl Kenric. Ah, had I but known of his coming, this traitor had not served our island as he has done! 'Tis true, Imight not have done aught to save the life of Earl Hamish your father, but had not yon churl Duncan Graham failed me yesternight Earl Alpin atleast might have been spared. "

"Now, with what grim sorcery has Dame Elspeth been bewitching you?" heexclaimed, drawing back a pace. 

Aasta's fair cheeks and towering white neck blushed crimson, and shelooked down at the grass about her feet. 

"Yesternight, " continued Kenric, "in passing through the shadows of theforest I suddenly encountered a wolf, and as I was about to draw my bow, lo! the wolf disappeared, and in its place it was you, Aasta, that Ibeheld. "

"Ah, it was you, then, that appeared?" said Aasta. "Alas, my lord, Imistook you for one of the Norsemen of Earl Roderic's following, and Ifled. "

"Methinks it was a strange fancy that led a maid into the dark forest atsuch an hour, " said Kenric sternly. "What manner of witchery led youthere? But you spoke of Duncan Graham, and now I mind me that he toowould have gone forth to the Rock of Solitude had I not warned himagainst so bold an adventure. "

"My lord, " said Aasta, growing very red, "there is no man in all yourcastle more faithful than Duncan, and I trust that you will deem him noless true when you know that twice ere yesternight he has held trystwith me. It was his purpose, had not these misfortunes befallen yourhouse, to have sued with my lord your father that I might be freed fromthe bondage of my thralldom, and if that boon had been denied him, hewould even have purchased my liberty, that I might thus have been moreworthy to become his wedded wife. "

"Aasta, " said Kenric, "I sought not to draw these secrets from yourheart. And if it be that Duncan loves you and would have you to wife, then, believe me, it is not long that you shall remain in thralldom. "

"God give you thanks, my lord the king, " said Aasta softly. 

And as the morning dewdrop shines upon the harebell, so shone the tearsof gratitude that filled her deep blue eyes. 

At that moment as she turned away the cry of the cuckoo was heard fromthe woods, and the girl kissed her hand and said in the Danish, "Cuckoo, cuckoo, when shall I be married?"

But the bird answered not at all, and Aasta grew very sad. 

Kenric, leaving her behind, then wended his way back towards Rothesay. But not far had he gone into the wood when he found that the girl wasfollowing him. 

"My lord, " said she, coming to his side and walking near him, "whenyesterday I heard that these three strange men had come to Bute, andElspeth told me what manner of wicked men they were, now is the time, Ithought, when the mighty sword of king Somerled must be unearthed, formost surely will that sword be needed. And methought I would send thatsword by the hands of Duncan Graham. But Duncan came not to the tryst. And now that Earl Alpin is slain -- now that, as it seems, my lord, youhave resolved to bring this false traitor of Gigha to his merited death, methinks it is you who should bear that sword, that by its aid you mayfulfil your vengeance. "

Kenric looked at the maiden in blank surprise, and he thought thateither there was something strange and mysterious in her nature or thather mind was wandering. 

"The name of my great ancestor, king Somerled, God rest him! is indeedas well known to me as my own, " said he; "but of this sword of which youspeak I have heard nothing. Truly, I know not what you mean, Aasta. "

They were now passing through the pine forest, where athwart the talltrunks of the trees slanted the rays of the evening sun, and there wasno sound but the cooing of the wood pigeons and the crackling of the drytwigs and cones as Kenric and Aasta stepped upon the velvet turf. 

"Long, long ago, " said Aasta, "as Elspeth has ofttimes told me, therelived in Norway a great and ambitious king named Harald Fair Hair, who, for the love of a proud maiden, put the whole of Norway under his feet;and being lord over that great country by right of conquest he laidclaim to every man's odal, or lands, in such wise that his realm was nolonger a place in which a freeborn man could live. So many men of thatland took ship and went forth upon the seas to seek other homes, andthey came to the land of the Scots. They were adventurous and valiantmen, who took to conquest and sea roving as a cygnet takes to the water. Now these vikings were soon such a thorn in the side of King Harald, that he resolved to quell the evil by following his old enemies to theirnew abodes and hunting them across the western main, and he passed downamong the Western Isles, and harried and wasted those lands farther thanany Norwegian monarch before him or after him. So it befell that theWestern Isles, that had belonged to the Scots, were peopled and ruledover by the Norsemen. "

Kenric listened to the girl's soft voice as it rippled in sweet music, but he heeded little this oft-told tale. 

"Now there arose a great man in Argyll, who was mightier than any of theScots that had so lightly allowed their lands to be torn away from them, and this was king Somerled. He waged war against the Norsemen of theWestern Isles, and he made conquest of Bute, Arran, and Gigha, with theCumbraes and other smaller isles that still remain in the hands of theScots, for he was a most powerful warrior, and it was said that no manever crossed swords with him but to be slain. His enemies fell beforehim like ripe grain in the swath of the mower's sickle. And his sword --"

"Yes, his sword?" said Kenric, growing interested now. 

"His sword had drunk so often and so fully of men's blood, that itseemed to take new life into itself out of the hearts of all who fellbefore its sway, and men named it the Thirsty Sword, for it is neversatisfied. It was said beforetime that if a sword be the death of fivescore of men, it comes to be possessed of a lust for slaying. But thesword of Somerled had drunk the life's blood of twice five score of men, and none might take it in his grasp and lay it down again ere it hadkilled a man. "

"Such a weapon were surely a great danger in the land, Aasta, " saidKenric. "I would not willingly touch it if any but my enemies were near. But by reason of the desire for vengeance that is now upon me, gladlywould I know where that sword is to be found, that it may be ready whenthe time comes to drink the blood of the falsest heart that ever beat, and that is the heart of Earl Roderic of Gigha. "

"Then, methinks it will not be long ere you have that weapon in yourhand, my lord, " said Aasta, quickening her steps. "For it befell that Ihad a dream vision, and I saw where long ago the men of Bute had buriedthe sword, swathed in sheepskins that the blade might not be eaten byrust. So I unearthed it, and hid it under the Rock of Solitude, where weshall now find it. "

Kenric and Aasta went onward through the forest glades, and when theycame to the rock Aasta put her white arm into a deep cavity, and drewforth a bundle of sheepskins. Unwrapping them she revealed theglittering weapon. With her two hands she clasped its hilt, and raisedthe Thirsty Sword above the crown of daisies that was upon her hair. 

Kenric drew back, for he was yet afraid of this strange witch maiden, whose fairness and beauty were regarded by the men of Flute asbetokening the spell of her subtle sorcery. But seeing him recoil, Aastalowered the weapon and smiled, showing her pearl-white teeth. 

"He who would wield this weapon, my lord, " said she, "must strip hisheart of all fear and trembling. Take you the sword in hand, and I willstand before you while you try your power with it. Not hard will it beto wield it, for it was forged by the hand of Munifican, and so wellbalanced is it, and so easy to grip, that a youth of half your strength, my lord, might swing it for many hours and not be weary. "

Then Kenric took the sword in his hard grip, and holding it out at arm'slength he saw that its point was but a span's distance from Aasta's breast. 

He bade the girl stand still. Aasta stood like a pillar of stone beforehim, with the sunlight upon her red-gold hair; nor did she stir a fingeror blink an eyelash as young Kenric, firm on his feet, flung back hisarms and swung the terrible weapon once, twice, thrice, to right andleft in front of her. 

Seeing the maiden's fearless courage, "Now do I in sooth believe, " saidhe, "that you are in very deed a witch, Aasta. But what you have said ofthis sword is, methinks, nothing less than true; and, if you will it so, then will I take it, so that I may now confront this villain EarlRoderic, and slay him for my revenge. "

"God be your guard! my lord the king, " said Aasta, "and may you neveruse that sword without just cause. "

And so saying she went her ways. 

Now, when Kenric, armed with the Thirsty Sword, and with his heart fullof bitter vengeance, came upon the rocky heights of Dunagoil, and helddiscourse with one of his friends, a friar of St. Blane's, he learnedthat his enemy had already quitted the island, and was now aboard theEnglish ship on the first stage of his pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Nottill then did Kenric remember his sick mother, or think of how he hadset out to summon Elspeth Blackfell to the castle. He blamed himselfbeyond measure in that he had allowed his vengeful thoughts to so leadhim away from his higher duty. 

But as it happened, Lulach had served him well. When Kenric got back toRothesay he found Elspeth already busy in her work of nursing his motherhack to health. So skilful was the old woman in this, that in the spaceof two days the Lady Adela was fully restored, and able to hear the sadnews of how her favourite son had fallen under Roderic's sword. 

Of the burial of Hamish and Alpin, and of the solemn rites attendingthat ceremony, there is no need to tell. Noble and true were they both, and well-beloved for their worthiness. But they are dead, and so, as theold scalds would say, have passed out of the story. 

 CHAPTER XII. HOW KENRIC WAS MADE KING. 

On a day in June, Ailsa Redmain, well arrayed, went forth from Kilmoryriding behind her father, Sir Oscar, on his sturdy horse. Beside themwalked her brother Allan, with a long staff in his hand, a plaid overhis broad shoulder, and a tall feather in his bonnet. 

It was one of the calmest of summer days. The warm sweet smell of thewhin bloom was in the air. The lark sang merrily in the clear sky, andacross the smooth, glassy surface of Ascog loch the herons flew withheavy, indolent wings. 

Seeing a pair of these birds flying near, Sir Oscar turned to his son. 

"Were we not otherwise employed, " said he, "this were a glorious day, Allan, on which to fly our young hawks at these herons. The birds willlose their cunning if they be not better exercised. Know you if poorAlpin had set aside a pair of gerfalcons for his Majesty's tribute?"

"'Tis but seven days ago that we were out together, Alpin and I, " saidAllan, "and never saw I a better trained pair of hawks than those thatare now in keeping at Rothesay against the time when the tribute must bepaid. We took seven birds that rose from the heronry of Barone. Alas!had Alpin but lived I had hoped to accompany him into Scotland that Imight see King Alexander. But 'tis ever so with me. Never yet have Ibeen able to make that journey. "

"But, " said Ailsa, "when Kenric has been throned, will not he also needto pay yearly homage to the King of Scots, even as his father was wontto do?"

"Assuredly, " said Sir Oscar. "The king of Bute is so bound by hisvassalage, and it were a sorry day for him if he should fail to observethe usages which custom has ordained. So soon as Kenric can do so, hewill take his tribute of falcons to King Alexander, and Allan might evenaccompany him. "

"But are there no falcons in Scotland, father?" asked Ailsa. 

"Plenty there are, my child. 'Tis but the form of tribute, showing thatthe lord of Bute acknowledges his vassalage. In like manner, the lord ofArran delivers each year two dead eagles, and the lord of Islay a rollof homespun cloth. So may his Majesty know that his subjects remain trueto him. "

"Ah, heard you those lusty shouts?" broke in Ailsa, as the hum of manyvoices reached their ears. "'Tis surely the young king that they arehailing. Spur on the horse, for I would not willingly miss the sight ofhis arrival. "

"'Tis but some wrestler thrown, " said her father. "We shall be at theStone of Destiny long ere Kenric leaves his castle gates. "

Nevertheless, he urged on the horse, and soon they were in the midst ofthe vast crowd of islanders who had assembled on the great plain toelect their new king. 

Sir Oscar, dismounting, took his place by the throne, and when the courtwas duly fenced and the ruthmen had taken their places, each at hisparticular stone, the islanders crowded round in a circle that all mightsee. Ailsa and Allan were behind their father, and near them were Lulachand Aasta the Fair, with Elspeth Blackfell and many hillmen anddalesmen, with their women. And nearest to the fence cord, so that theirelders could see above their curly heads, were the little children ofBute, who had been brought from far and near, to the end that when theywere old and gray headed they might have it to say, "When I was a child, so high, my mother carried me to Loch Ascog side, and there I saw youngKenric made king of Bute, and it was the lordliest sight that ever wasseen in the island; for Kenric was a true-born king, and the wisest andnoblest of all our rulers, and all who saw him on that great dayforetold that it would be so. "

Not long had the people waited when they saw a stately company ofmen-at-arms advancing, and at their head rode Kenric, mounted on a whitecharger. Not now did he appear in the lowly garments of deerskin or withill-strung buskins or tangled hair. He wore a helm of burnished brass, crested with a pair of golden wings; his well-combed brown hairfluttered in the breeze. Thrown over his shoulder, and half concealinghis bright shirt of scale mail, was a plaid of silk. There were silverbuckles on his tanned shoes, and below his bare knees his legs wereswathed in fine lawn, cross-gartered with red silk bands. 

A great cheer rose in the calm air and echoed and re-echoed far awayamong the crags of Loch Striven as Kenric sprang lightly from his steed. The crowd opened a place for him, crying "All hail to Kenric!" and hetook his stand in their midst at the eastern side of the court. Nofarther did he venture, but stood there with bent head and sober, sunburnt face, resting his left hand upon his sword. 

Then when the abbot had spoken a few holy words, Sir Oscar Redmainraised his voice and told what they had all come for to that place, andhe asked the counsellors to name the man whom they would choose fortheir lord. 

"Kenric, son of Hamish!" they all cried. 

Kenric then stepped forward as though he were unwilling thus to be maderuler over the people of Bute, for the high honour had come suddenlyupon him and he had never dreamed of being king, but only a faithfulpriest of St. Blane's, serving the Lord and His people. 

Sir Oscar met him at the foot of the throne, and took from him his greatsword and his dirk. 

Then Kenric turned and faced the people, and spoke to them in a loud, clear voice. 

"Men of Bute, " said he, "much do I tremble at this great and solemn dutythat you have thrust upon me. I am but a stripling, fitted better toplay upon the hills in boyish sport than to rule over men who are myelders. If it be that I am indeed to be your king, then do I deem yourchoice made only because I am my dear father's son, and not that I haveany virtue or prowess that would befit me for that high office. And nowI ask you, men of Bute, whether you have ever found any fault with themanner in which the late king, Earl Hamish, ruled this land, and whetheryou know of anything deserving blame in myself, that should unfit me tobe your lord and king?"

They replied as with the voice of one man that they knew no fault of anykind. 

Then standing upon the Stone of Destiny, Kenric took from the steward astraight white wand, and the abbot and three friars anointed him king. At the same time old Dovenald, clothed in a scarlet robe, advanced fromthe crowd, and bending low before the throne repeated the catalogue ofKenric's ancestors. 

When these ceremonies were over, the young king swore upon his swordthat he would continue his vassals in the possession of their lands anddefend their rights with his own life, and do exact justice to all hissubjects. 

"And now, " said he, "if there be any amongst you who would dispute mykingship, let him stand forward and I will prove myself with the sword. "And he threw down his gauntlet from his girdle. 

No man stood forth. But an aged woman who was of the crowd let down fromher arms a little child, and the child toddled forward and picked up theglove and handed it to the king. Kenric, bending his strong back, tookup the child in his arms and kissing its two rosy cheeks, raised thelittle one on his shoulder, and carried it back to its grandam. 

Then as he did so, many mothers held up their children that these toomight share the honour he had done the first. So Kenric went roundbestowing his kisses and his blessings upon the innocents. And thefathers and mothers thought well of their young king for this that hedid, for it showed them that he had a tender and loving heart. Then theycheered him yet again, until their lusty voices grew hoarse. 

At length, when all was done, the people went peacefully to theirhomesteads, talking of what they had just seen, yet little thinking howsoon the time would arrive when they should owe the lives of theirinnocent children to the wisdom and bravery of this boy king. 

 CHAPTER XIII. THE "WHITE LADY" OF THE MOUNTAIN. 

On the second morning after his throning, Kenric, assuming again hisclothes of deerskin, walked over to Kilmory Castle, and there heldcounsel with his steward concerning the way in which he was to paytribute to his overlord the King of Scots. As a newly-elected king itwas necessary for him to offer homage to King Alexander in person. Buthe did not yet know in which of the royal castles his Majesty might befound, and he had need to cross over to Arran to make inquiries of SirPiers de Currie, who, as he knew, had lately had audience with the King. 

Sir Oscar Redmain, in giving him his instructions, asked him if his sonAllan might accompany him to Scotland. 

"There is no youth in all Bute whom I would rather take with me, " saidKenric, "for I have now no comrade of my own years since my brotherAlpin is no longer alive; and methinks that Allan might well become tome the true friend that he ever was to Alpin. If he will come with meeven now I will take him across to Castle Ranza, and we may then speakof our approaching journey. "

Allan was then out in the fields, but he was soon found, and the twolads, armed with bows and dirks, went together down to the bay of St. Ninian's. Four fishermen there launched a boat for them, and rowing outunder the little island of Inch Marnock, they then hoisted sail and spedacross the Sound of Bute with a fresh western wind. 

Not long were they in crossing the channel between Bute and Arran, andat the northwest of the latter island they steered round into thebeautiful and quiet Loch Ranza. At the head of this inlet of the sea, and standing out upon a narrow neck of land commanding the bay, was SirPiers de Currie's castle. Like many of the smaller fortresses of thattime, the castle of Ranza was built, not of stone, but of heavy oaktimbers of double walls that were filled in between with stones andturf, and so wondrously strong and thick that fire alone might destroy it. 

Landing at a little stone pier, Kenric and Allan went up to the castlefront. Allan blew his hunting horn. The guard ordered the drawbridge tobe lowered, and the two lads entered. They were met at the inner gatesby the Lady Grace de Currie and her five young boys and girls, whoaccompanied them into the great drinking hall. Then as they were takingthe hospitality that was offered them, Kenric told of how the threeisland kings had come to Bute, and how his father and Alpin had been slain. 

Much concerned was the lady of Ranza at all this -- for she had heardbut a fisherman's account of what had befallen the house of Rothesay --and more than all was she grieved at the late illness of her dear friendthe Lady Adela. 

"So now, " said Kenric when he had modestly spoken of his kingship, "Iwould see your husband, for, as I hear, he has newly been to Scotland, and can tell me where I may meet King Alexander. "

"Sir Piers, " said she smiling, "went forth at sunrise with his men, andis even now upon the mountains in search of sport. I fear he will not beback ere morning, for you know his habit of wandering for days togetheramong the hills. So I beg you, my lord Kenric -- and you also, Allan --rest you here in our castle until Sir Piers returns. "

"Yes, Kenric, stay, and I will show you my new bow, and you shall seehow well I can now aim, " said little Fergus (the same who in theaftertime fought so valiantly at Bannockburn). 

"No, " said Kenric, "I cannot stay, for on the morrow I must even be backin Bute to take my seat at the assize that has been called, and I wouldnot willingly neglect the first duty that has fallen to me. "

"Why, then, " said Allan Redmain, "let us both to the mountains, my lord. There is no pass or crag in the north of Arran that my foot has nottrod, and it will go hard if we find not Sir Piers in a few hours' time. "

Thereupon Kenric and Allan, leaving their four men at the castle, walkedround by the shore side to Glen Catacol, and through a gloomy pass thatled far up into the craggy mountains, where the eagle reigned on highand the red deer ran wild and free. 

Now Allan Redmain was a most venturesome youth. He was taller by a headthan Kenric, strong of limb and surefooted as a mountain goat. Heedlessof the danger into which he was taking his king, he led the way into thewildest fastnesses of Ben Bharrain, by paths that even the hunted stagmight fear to tread. 

In vain did they search for any sign that would bring them to Sir Piersde Currie and his band of hunters. No sound of rallying horn, no voiceof man reached their ears, but only the drumming cry of the wild grouseor the short sharp bark of the fox; and when, after much scraping ofbare knees, they scaled the steep mountain's peak and stood upon thelofty height, where the heather grew crisp and short, they sat down andlet the cool wind blow against their flushed faces. Then with keen eyesthey scanned each crag and fell, searching in gully and glen, in hollowand on height. But though they saw many herds of deer, yet of huntsmenthey saw no sign. 

"Methinks, Allan, " said Kenric, "that 'tis but a foolish thing we havedone to come on this fruitless journey. One might wander for a week uponthese barren wastes and yet never encounter those whom we seek. Betterhad we remained in Castle Ranza. What say you to our returning?"

"Could we but get a shot at a good stag, " said Allan, "our journey mightyet be well repaid. "

"And wherefore kill a stag, if we must needs leave his carcase for thecarrion crows? If 'tis practice with your bow you want, why, have we notthat in abundance on our own island?"

"Ah, but to be up here as it were among the very clouds!" said Allan. "Beats not your heart with quicker joy, Kenric, when you breathe thekeen mountain air -- when your eyes rest upon so vast a stretch of seaand land as we now behold? I know no pleasure so sweet as this. "

"Methinks, " said Kenric, "that were Sir Piers de Currie here, and I hadfulfilled my purpose in crossing to Arran, then this joy you speak ofwere not greater than my own. But when I go out hunting, Allan, I liketo hunt; when I come over to ask a question of our neighbour, it is notto my humour to be thus stranded upon a hilltop. So now, if it pleaseyou, we will return to Ranza. "

"Nay, I go not from these mountains ere I have once drawn the bow, " saidAllan. "'Tis a chance that I do not have too often; and now that we areso far I would go to yonder gully where but a while ago we saw that vastherd of deer enter. Come. "

"Methinks, Allan Redmain, " said Kenric, "that 'tis you who have comewith me to Arran, not I with you, and I beg you to at once return with me. "

Allan was about to turn round upon Kenric with an angry word, whensuddenly he minded that the lad was his lord and king. 

"Oh, my lord, my lord!" he cried, "pardon me -- I beg you pardon me, forin truth I had forgotten your kingship. It was wrong in me thus tooppose my will to yours. "

"Nay, Allan, believe me, I would not have you thus regard me at alltimes as your master, but rather as your friend. Nevertheless, if myoffice is to be remembered, then methinks it is well that we shouldsearch for Sir Piers, and not think of hunting after stags. Now take meback to Castle Ranza by the nearest way. "

Allan then turned and led the way across the eastern shoulder of themountain and down a wild ravine towards Glen Catacol. In the bed of theravine there coursed a turbulent torrent, swollen by the rains of thenight before. They walked along a narrow goat track from which the rockyground sloped sharply downward into the stream. From beyond a turning inthis path they heard the swelling roar of a waterfall. 

Scarce had they made this turning, when, above the noise of thecataract, they heard the yelping of a deer hound. Kenric was now inadvance of his companion, and they were just above the point where thewaterfall turned over into a deep chasm. 

"A stag! a stag!" cried Kenric as he promptly took an arrow and fixed itto his bowstring. 

Allan followed his example. Kenric knelt down on one knee and levelledhis arrow. Allan made ready to shoot over Kenric's shoulder. A noblestag, with wide-spreading antlers of twelve points, seemed almost to beflying towards them along the narrow path. An arrow was half buried inhis bleeding flank; a pair of shaggy deer hounds were behind in mad pursuit. 

"Now!" cried Kenric. 

The bowstrings twanged, and the two arrows speeding in their deadlyflight plunged side by side into the stag's broad chest. The nobleanimal stumbled, regained his footing, and ran on. Nearer and nearer hecame, panting, moaning, glaring with wild and frightened eyes. To hisright was a steep wall of rock, to his left a fall of thirty feet intothe surging waters below the cataract. At his heels were the dogs, infront of him the two youths ready with another charge of arrows. Therewas no way of escape. 

"Lie down, my lord! -- quick, lie down!" cried Allan, firing his dart. 

The arrow rattled upon the stag's antlers. The stag bounded forward withone of the hounds upon his back, then stumbled upon his knees. Kenricrose and ran to dirk him ere he should have time to regain his feet. 

"Comeback, come back!" shouted Allan. 

But Kenric, little heeding the danger, or not hearing the cry of warningamid the roaring of the water, was about to draw his dirk, when the stagfell over with the weight of the second hound. One of his antler pointscaught in the string of Kenric's bow. 

Then Allan Redmain saw a sight that filled him with dismay. Kenric, still holding his bow that was entangled in the stag's horns, lost hisfooting; the stag rolled over; and Kenric fell, with his legs astride ofthe animal's belly. Then all four -- Kenric, the stag, and the two dogs-- struggling each with his own purpose, slipped swiftly down thesloping precipice, and plunged into the deep and surging linn below thefoaming waterfall. 

Allan Redmain, alone now upon that narrow path, uttered a loud cry as hesaw his young master disappear through the mist of spray that rose frombelow the cataract. Well did he know that even if Earl Kenric had notbeen killed, he yet was unable to swim. 

Thoughts more dreadful than he had ever known coursed through Allan'smind at that moment. Kenric the young king, the only hope of Bute, killed? and he, Allan Redmain, had not saved him!

He looked around for help. In that desolate place what help could heexpect? But he tarried not long to think of how he should act. At therisk of his own life he was bound to do what he could. Grasping hislongbow in his two hands and using it as a skid, and digging his heelsfirmly into the stony ground of the sloping precipice, he went down footby foot, now swaying this way and now that as the loose stones slippedbefore his feet. Down, down he went until he came at last to the leveltop of a steep rock that stood over the brink of the deep linn. 

In the eddying water that swirled and boiled as in a cauldron at thebase of the cataract he saw one of the stag hounds struggling, tryingvainly to keep its head above the surface; but nowhere Kenric, nowhereeven the stag. He lay down upon the rock and drew himself to its edgethat he might look below into the water at its base. But the waterrushed past in bubbling sweep, and yet there was no sign. 

Then, still in hope that he might yet find the young king, he rose tohis feet and threw himself headlong into the linn. Deep, deep he sank, and the strong undercurrent tossed about him, seized him in its fearfulgrip, and swept him downward in its course. Rising to the surface hetried with all his strength to swim against the current to the spotwhere Kenric had fallen in. 

Not long had he thus endeavoured when his strength failed him. He felthimself being drawn under. It came to be a matter of saving his own lifenow -- saving it that he might live to carry the sad news home toRothesay. So he turned round with the stream and swam towards a greatflat rock in mid-current. As he neared it a strange sight met his eyes. 

On the rock was the dead stag. A stream of crimson blood trickled downfrom its broad chest, staining the white rock. Sitting upon the stag, with folded arms and dripping hair, and eyes fixed in dreamy admirationupon the tumbling waters of the White Lady Falls, was Kenric the king. The great cataract curled over the topmost rocks in a smooth brownvolume, turned into pure white foam as it fell and bounded with roaringnoise into the deep chasm below. A cloud of spray rose from the depths, and where the sunbeams crossed it there was a beautiful arc of lightshowing all the colours of the rainbow. Kenric seemed to be lost incontemplation of the wild scene. 

Suddenly he turned his head and looked up the frowning hillside. Abovethe noise of the falling water he had heard his name called. He stoodup, and holding on with one hand to the stag's spreading antler, withthe other he shaded his eyes and searched for a sign of Allan Redmain. The goat track was hidden from his view; but at the spot where he hadfirst seen the stag running he now saw a party of five men, who, withtheir leader, Sir Piers de Currie, were following the trail of thewounded animal. 

Kenric then knelt against the dead stag, and, thrusting his fingers intohis mouth, gave a shrill whistle. 

At that moment Allan Redmain clambered upon the rock at his side, emptied his horn of the water that was in it, and blew as lusty a blastas his enfeebled breath could send forth. 

Kenric started back at the sound like one who had seen a ghost, for hehad known nothing of Allan's movements until this moment. But now hequickly understood what his friend had done for his sake, and he put hishand upon Allan's shoulder lovingly. 

Within a little while the two lads were rescued from their periloussituation. With the help of the ropes that the men of Ranza had broughtto bind the deer upon their ponies' backs, first Kenric, then the deadstag, and lastly Allan Redmain, were taken off the rock. The two houndswere, however, lost. 

Saving for a few bruises and scratches, neither Kenric nor Allan hadreceived much hurt. But this accident, which might have proved sodisastrous to the isle of Bute, bound the Earl Kenric and Allan Redmaintogether in a close fellowship, which lasted until they were bothgray-haired old men. 

 CHAPTER XIV. IN SOLEMN ASSIZE. 

On the day that followed that of his adventure among the Arranmountains, Kenric went to the seat of judgment at Ascog, there in solemnassize to administer the laws of his dominions. The men of Bute werepeaceful, and the offences and charges that were brought forward on thatday were of no great gravity. 

On taking his seat before the twelve wise men, he opened the assize andcalled for the first charge, whereupon an odaller from one of thefarmsteads of Ardbeg accused one of the islanders of having made theftof a young steer. Kenric asked whether the thief had driven the young oxaway or carried it, and explained that the stealing of such prey asrequired to be driven was a higher offence than if it were carried off. A witness then proved that the thief, being a strong man, had bound thesteer's legs with thongs and thrown the animal over his shoulder, and somade off with it. And being proved guilty, he was made to pay a fine oftwenty pence. 

Then there came another who charged his enemy with having hunted haresand wildfowl on lands that were not his own. But the accused man washeld guiltless, for, said the young judge, they had there no tyrannousforest laws, and every man was free to hunt wheresoever he wished, andto take what game he might. And again, a fisherman was accused of havingcharged two pennies for a basket of fish worth only half that sum; andKenric said that the fisherman was poor and hard working, and that hewho bought the fish was over greedy, and the case was dismissed. Next apoor cattleman of Kingarth came forward, showing a knife wound in hisarm, and saying that another had stabbed him and also struck him in themouth, knocking out a tooth; and Kenric ordered that the man's woundshould be measured with a rule, and it was three inches in length and ahalf inch in breadth. Then for the length of the wound a fine oftwenty-four pence was imposed upon the wrongdoer, for its breadth sixpennies, and for the tooth twelve other pennies. 

Then Kenric asked if there were any further matters to be judged. 

"Yes, my lord, " said Duncan Graham, entering the circle of the court. "There is a boon that I your servant would humbly ask. "

"And what boon is that?" asked Kenric, already guessing what it might be. 

"It is, " said Duncan, standing to his full height and growing very red-- "It is that there lives with Elspeth Blackfell, over at Kilmory, onewhom men name Aasta the Fair, and she is a thrall. The boon I ask isthat you will in your mercy remove from her the yoke of bondage, for sheis a passing worthy maid, and it is no fault of hers, but only hermisfortune that she is a thrall; and, so please you, my lord, I love herwell, and would make her my lawful wife, for a freeman may not wed abondmaid and claim her as his own. "

"Show me this maiden, that I may speak with her, " said Kenric. 

And Aasta stood forth, looking very beautiful in a robe of white, andwith her eyes downcast, and her hands clasped before her. 

"Tell me your name and history, " said the young king. 

"My name, my lord, is Aasta, and nothing else, " said she. "I am a thrallto Sir Oscar Redmain, who claimed me as his bondmaid when I was but alittle child, for it was upon his lands that I was found. Whence I cameI cannot tell; but men say that it was with the wild north winds that Iwas brought to Bute, from the regions of frost and snow. Of my parentageI know naught, saving only that Elspeth Blackfell has oft declared thatmy parents were of noble station, and that they dwelt in the land of theNorsemen. "

"That you are of gentle blood I can well believe, " said Kenric softly, as he regarded her surpassing beauty. "But do you then remember nothingof your earliest life?"

"All that yet lingers in my mind, my lord, is the memory of my mother, "said Aasta. "She was wild and unruly as the winter storm, and cruel asan angry wolf. "

"And your father?"

"He was a viking, who, though he loved me passing well, was ever on thesea, roving and fighting in his great ship. "

"Whosoever you be, Aasta, and whencesoever you came, " said Kenric, "Inow declare you to be free of your bondage. For the space of a year anda day you shall remain upon Sir Oscar Redmain's lands as his paidservant, but not as his thrall, and at the end of that time the Abbot ofSt. Blane's shall give you in marriage to the brave man who will thenclaim you, and you shall be that man's lawful wedded wife. "

Then, when Duncan Graham led the maid away, Kenric asked if there yetremained any man there present who had any claim to make, or grievanceto be redressed; at which David Blair, a rich farmer of Scalpsie, calledfor judgment upon one who had done him a wrong. 

"What is your suit?" asked the king. 

"It is, " said the farmer, "that, ten days since, my watchdog was cruellyslain. He was the best watchdog in all Bute, and never dared beast ofprey or man of stealth come near my homestead but to his hurt. But, since my dog has been slain, three gimmer sheep, and two ewe lambs, andfour young goats have been carried off by the wolves. And my good wifeMarjory has lost seven of her best chickens, that have been taken by thefoxes. "

"Who is the man that so cruelly slew your dog?" asked Kenric. 

"It was young Allan Redmain of Kilmory, and him do I charge, " said thefarmer. 

"Allan Redmain!" exclaimed Kenric, in alarm at the thought of sitting injudgment upon his own friend. 

Then he stirred uneasily in his seat, and bit his lips in trying to seea way of escape out of his difficulty. He had sworn lasting friendshipfor Allan, and remembering the adventure of the day before, when Allanhad risked his life for him, he could not bear the thought of givingsentence of punishment if it should be proved that Allan was guilty. Thrown thus betwixt friendship and duty, he sat for many moments insilent thought, wishing that he was no longer a king who had boundhimself to do justice to all men. But at last he called aloud for AllanRedmain, and Allan promptly appeared, albeit with lowered head andguilty looks. 

"Now, David Blair, " said Kenric with tremulous voice, "repeat youraccusation, and woe betide you if in malice you say aught but the holytruth. "

"My lord!" said the farmer in surprise. "Am I then to be doubted? And ismy word less to be trusted than that of any other honest man of Bute? Irepeat that it was Allan Redmain who slew my dog out of mere boyish sport. "

Allan looked at his accuser with frowning brows. 

"Allan Redmain, are you guilty or innocent of this offence?" asked theyoung judge. 

"In that I slew the dog, my lord, I am guilty, " said Allan. "But in thatthe act was not without just cause, I am innocent. It was in the hayfield of Scalpsie, where with a companion I was walking. The dog ran upto us as it were to attack us. My comrade shook his fist at the dog, andthereupon it sprang at his throat, and I took out my dirk and slew thebrute. "

"Brute, say you?" exclaimed the farmer. "My lord, the dog meant nomanner of harm, and it was a cruel thing to kill him so. I am nowwithout a watchdog, and must I needs suffer my sheep to be devoured bythe wolves because, forsooth, a hot-headed lad would use his knife uponmy poor dumb friend? I ask for redress, and redress I shall have. "

"Who was the comrade of whom you speak?" asked Kenric of Allan. 

"I refuse to say, my lord, " said Allan firmly. 

"It was your own brother Alpin who is dead, my lord, " said David Blair. 

"What! and you would have me punish one who so defended my own brother?"cried Kenric. "No, David Blair, I cannot do it. "

But at that the farmer protested warmly, and declared that he would havejustice done him, and that it was his lord's duty to deal fairly by allmen, notwithstanding that Allan Redmain was the son of the steward. Sothere was nothing for it but for Kenric to pronounce the penalty. 

"It is an old law, held sacred by custom, " he falteringly said, "that ifone slays another man's watchdog, the slayer must himself protect for ayear and a day the unwatched homestead. And he is accountable to theowner for any scathe that may befall within that period after theslaying of the dog. This, Allan Redmain, is the penalty you must pay, and less than this it is not in my power to impose, for law is law, andI am but its instrument. "

Then after the assize was over, Allan went to Kenric and asked him whatwas now to be done concerning their projected journey into Scotland, forthat now he was condemned to act for twelve long months as a miserablewatchdog, it was no longer possible for him to leave the island, and beabsent for a night. 

The same difficulty had already presented itself to Kenric, who feltindeed that he would rather have cut off his own hand than pass thatsentence upon his friend. He looked at Allan with pleading eyes. 

"Allan, " he said, "how can you forgive me for this that I have done? Andhow can I now help you out of this miserable dog's work? Methinks thaton the cold frosty nights when you are out there, minding this churlishfarmer's sheep, it will not be easily that I shall lie in my warm bed. But how to help it, I do not know. Haply the law was made for vagabondthieves and cattle lifters, but it still is law, and in my place I couldnot well evade the judgment. "

"Think not that I blame you, my lord, " said Allan cheerily. "I am notthe steward's son without knowing somewhat of a judge's difficulties inpunishing his own friends. But, alas! I had set my heart upon being yourattendant on this journey of homage. "

"As to that, " said Kenric, "you need not concern yourself. I will notbreak my promise to take you. As to Blair's flocks and his good wife'schickens, we can send the lad Lulach to watch them, and I warrant methey will be safe. So come you over to Rothesay at the time of the floodtide two days hence, and we will then set sail for Dumbarton. "

 CHAPTER XV. THE DOMINION OF THE WESTERN ISLES. 

When Kenric met Sir Piers de Currie in the wilds of the Arran mountains, and spoke with that doughty knight of his need of seeing the King ofScots, he learned to his satisfaction that his expedition would notcarry him farther into the mainland than the castle of Dumbarton. 

"It chances well that you are to make this journey so soon, " said SirPiers, "for, having failed to see his Majesty on my late visit to thepalace of Scone, I heard that he was to come westward to the Clyde in afew days' time, and if it so please you, we will go to Dumbarton together. "

"I will make ready my best galley, then, " said Kenric, "and await you inRothesay. "

"Agreed, " said the knight, "and it may be also that his Majesty willwish you to go upon the mission that your father was soon to haveundertaken to Islay and Mull. 'Tis passing unfortunate that you are soyoung, Earl Kenric, and so little experienced in the arts of diplomacythat so marked your good father. But methinks his Majesty will be wellpleased to see you, and to know what manner of man he has now to dependupon in his future dealings with the Norsemen. Your youth will assuredlybe no disadvantage in the eyes of one who was monarch over all Scotlandat eight years old. "

"Think you, Sir Piers, that we shall at last come to a war with theseNorsemen?" asked Allan Redmain. 

"Of that I have little doubt, Allan, " said Sir Piers. "Methinks the timeis not far distant when the possession of the Western Isles must bedetermined at the point of the sword. "

This promise of coming strife was by no means unwelcome to AllanRedmain, for those peaceful and prosperous times gave but few occasionsfor the earnest exercise of the sword, though, indeed, the weapons ofthe chase were in constant use, and Allan felt the young blood coursethrough his veins with quickened excitement at the prospect of engagingin a pitched battle against the valiant vikings of the North. 

As to Kenric, the one thing which made him somewhat less eager thanAllan was his knowledge that there was now no immediate hope of meetingthe slayer of his father in a hand-to-hand encounter. The outlawedRoderic was now far away on his pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and thevengeance might never be fulfilled. If war should come, and Kenrichimself be slain, then Roderic was the next heir to the lordship ofBute, and whether King Alexander or King Hakon became the overlord andmonarch, it mattered little, for Roderic would still make claim to hisfather's dominions. 

Earl Hamish of Bute had but a few days before his tragic death been intoScotland to render account to Alexander the Third concerning his missionto the King of Norway. That mission had failed in its object. Theletters of Henry of England and His Majesty of Scots had not succeededin persuading the Norse monarch to resign his claims to the dominion ofthe Western Isles. King Hakon claimed that those lands, from the Lewisin the north even to the Isle of Man in the south, were his by right ofboth conquest and possession, and that each and all of the island kings, or jarls, were bound in fealty and vassalage to Norway. On the otherhand, King Alexander claimed that he held yet stronger rights ofsovereignty, and that the islands were even by nature intended to bepart of Scotland. 

The Western Isles, and more especially that group lying south of theholy island of Iona, were at this time in a most prosperous condition. Together with a large tract of country on the northeast of Ireland, theyformed a sort of naval empire, with the open sea as its centre. Theywere densely populated. The useful arts were carried to a degree ofperfection unsurpassed in other European countries. The learned Irishclergy had established their well-built monasteries over all the islandseven before the arrival of the Norse colonists, and great numbers ofBritons, flying hither as an asylum when their own country was ravagedby the Saxons, had carried with them the remains of science, manufactures, and wealth introduced by their Roman masters. 

The habits of the islanders were piratical -- the natural result of thepossession of ships -- and their conquests extended along the east ofIreland, the coast of Cumberland, and a large part of the mainland ofScotland, including the whole county of Caithness. 

The Norwegian king, an ambitious and despotic monarch, who had risen topower from the position of a poor comb maker's son, hoped by the help ofthese dependants to invade and conquer the whole of Scotland, and he wasencouraged to the attempt by such self-seeking men as Roderic of Gighaand Erland of Jura, who made no scruple to enlist themselves in anycause that gave promise of increased power. 

It was natural that the Scots kings, as they increased their strength, should wish to annex these districts. But the efforts of Somerled ofArgyll in the twelfth century, and of King Alexander the Second in 1249, had done no more than secure the few islands lying within the shelter ofthe Firth of Clyde. Earl John of Islay and many of his neighbours werenow paying homage to both Norway and Scotland. The isle of Gigha, whichhad been a possession of Alpin of Bute, had been bestowed at thatchief's death upon his younger son Roderic. But Roderic, as has beentold, had gone over entirely to King Hakon, and had refused toacknowledge his vassalage to his rightful sovereign of Scotland. 

Thus, at the time when young Kenric became the lord of Bate, the wholeof the isles west of the peninsula of Kintyre were in the hands of pettykings, who, holding lands of both crowns, were still uncertain to whomthey should pay their paramount allegiance. 

During the minority of Alexander the Third all efforts to reduce theisles were abandoned. But now that the king was no longer a boy, he wasresolved to compel all these vassals of Norway to renounce theirallegiance and acknowledge their adherence to the Scottish crown. 

On the appointed day Sir Piers de Currie crossed over to Bute. He was aman of middle age, tall and strong. His gigantic limbs were hard andstout as the trunk of an oak sapling. He wielded the longest sword andthe heaviest battle-axe in Bute and Arran, and he was the best bowman inall the lands of the Clyde. His life among the mountains of Arran hadgiven him a mighty power of endurance, for it was his habit to rove formany days over the craggy heights of Goatfell, climbing where none elsecould climb, slaying deer, spearing salmon, following the wild wolf tohis lair, sleeping on the bare heather, drinking naught save the crystalwater of the mountain burns, and eating the simplest food. His band ofretainers, though scarcely less strong of limb than their master, werewont to say that their labours were even as those of the mythicalSigmund, who was condemned to make a new island in the ocean of therocks that he clove from the topmost peaks of the Mountain of the Winds. 

And yet they loved their master by reason of his strength and power, forhe was the king's nephew in Arran, and would some day be the lord ofthat isle and of the great castle of Brodick. 

Landing on the shores of St. Ninian's Bay, he strode with great stridestowards Rothesay, and Lulach the herd boy, seeing him, thought him themost gallant warrior in all the world, and wondered what his businessmight be in Bute, and why he should have come over without a train ofattendants. 

It took the knight but a little time to cover the four miles between St. Ninian's and Rothesay, and on the sloping strand of the bay he foundEarl Kenric busy with his retainers carrying stores down to a greatgalley that was moored against a stone pier in the little creek near tothe castle gates. 

This ship, which was built in the shipyard of Rothesay, was entirely ofoak and of great dimensions, ornamented with richly-carved dragonsoverlaid with beaten gold. It had ten banks of oars, each of the twentylong oars being rowed by two sturdy islanders. There was also a stoutmast, upon which, when the wind served, a wide-spreading square sailmight be hoisted. 

"A gallant bark, by my faith! a gallant bark, Kenric!" said Sir Piers ashe stepped on board and walked towards the high poop. "Would that we hada dozen such vessels, and manned by as brave a set of islanders as youhave here. Then might we hope to make a bold stand against any sea roverout of Norway. "

"Five other galleys the like of this are now lying at safe anchor in thebay of Kames, " said Kenric; "and had we yet another half dozen, thereare men-at-arms in plenty to man them -- all trained in the use of swordand longbow, and eager enough, I warrant, to have a fling at Hakon'svaliant vikings. "

"Right glad am I to hear it, " said the knight, "for he who is preparedhas half his battle fought. 

"Ah, Allan, " he added, seeing young Redmain already on board, "I was butnow about to ask if you had not yet come across from Kilmory. Where isSir Oscar this morning?"

"Hard at work in the fields, " answered Allan. "And he bade me tell youthat should King Alexander commission you on any dangerous enterprise, there are threescore of fishermen at your service over at Kilmory. "

"'Tis well. And now I see you have not forgotten the king's tribute, "said Sir Piers, as he observed the pair of gerfalcons that Allan wastending. "Could his Majesty receive a like tribute from other vassals, methinks there would be need to supply him also with a few score ofherons to fly them against. But the tribute customs are well ordered. One sends a hart, another a hound, one a heron, and another a hawk. Mylord of Arran's offering is but two dead golden eagles -- and for thematter of that his Majesty might have all the eagles in Arran, andwelcome, for we have over many of them. "

"Stand by your oars, my lads!" cried Kenric, balancing himself upon thegunwale and stepping aft. "Now, Duncan, heave off the ropes, youlaggard. So. Ready all!"

Then the boatswain, standing by the mast upon the centre gangway runningfore and aft between the two sets of rowers, blew his horn, and therowers pushed up their oars at arms' length that the blades might catchthe water, then springing upon the thwarts which they gripped with theirbare feet they threw themselves back with all their weight and strength, and the ship began to glide through the clear water. And so, springingup again as before for another pull, the men went to their hard workwith a will, singing a wild Gaelic boat song in measured time with thestrains of Dovenald's harp, and the galley, with ever-increasing speed, sailed out into the mid-bay. When there was a good way on her the workat the oars became easier and the song sank down into a subdued crooningsound that was soothing to hear. 

The shipmaster steered them out into the broader sea past Toward Point, and two hours' good rowing up the firth brought them abreast of thefortress of Dunoon. When the course was turned eastward the oars wereshipped and the great sail was set to catch the light western breeze, and then they went speeding up the Clyde to Dumbarton, whosestrong-built castle stood upon a high steep rock on the northern bank ofthe river. 

"Alas!" said Sir Piers de Currie, as he turned his clear gray eyestowards the battlements, "much do I fear that we are doomed todisappointment. The King has not arrived! Had it been so we should haveseen the brave flag of the Scottish lion flying upon those towers. "

"That were indeed a disappointment, " said Allan Redmain regretfully. 

"Nevertheless, " said Kenric, "we can at least leave the tribute at thecastle, and it may be that the warden can tell us when his Majesty isexpected. "

In a little time they had landed and mounted to the castle gates, wherethe lord warden met them and bade them enter. They gave up theirweapons, and Kenric delivered his two hawks to the falconer. So when thewarden had offered them all drink and food, he asked Sir Piers de Curriehow it was that Earl Hamish of Bute had not accompanied him. 

"Alas! he is dead, " said the knight, telling of the treachery of Roderic. 

"Woe, woe!" cried the old warden with tears in his eyes. "But this issurely the saddest thing that could have befallen, and a sorry blow forour country. And this is his son, eh? By the rood, a well-favouredyouth, and a strong. Heaven grant that he prove as good and leal a manas his father before him!" and he rested his hand on Kenric's shoulder. 

"And now, what of his Majesty the King?" asked Sir Piers. 

"He comes from Stirling even now, " said the warden, "and will be here atsunset. But 'tis a wearing ride from Stirling to Dumbarton, Sir Piers, and it may be you will not have audience with his Majesty ere morning. So bring in your shipmen, my lord of Bute, for methinks there will berain tonight, and a cosy chamber in the castle were better lodging thanan open boat. Doubtless, too, our own men-at-arms will welcome yourretainers for the story they have to tell of this sad happening in Bute. "

Accordingly the crew of Kenric's ship were brought within the castle, and with the men of Dumbarton and the bodyguard of the king they formeda merry company in the guardroom, while Kenric and his two companionsremained as guests of the lord warden. 

At the moment when the sun was sinking in the golden west, the King ofScotland arrived, accompanied by Queen Margaret and their attendants;but, as the warden had said, there could be no audience that night. 

 CHAPTER XVI. KENRIC BEFORE KING ALEXANDER. 

Before a bright fire in the great audience chamber of Dumbarton Castlesat King Alexander the Third. By his side stood two youthful pages, onea lad of sixteen or so, whose delicate complexion and habit of dressproclaimed him to be English; the other a lad of perhaps the same age, whose clear blue eyes, flaxen hair, and ruddy cheeks betokened northernblood. Sitting apart were the King's justiciary and the sheriff ofDumbarton. At the far end of the hall at either side of the portal stoodtwo Highlanders, armed with drawn swords. 

The king, now at the age of three-and-twenty, was dressed in a long robeof brown velvet, trimmed with fur. He wore a heavy chain of gold abouthis neck, with the device of the thistle resting on his jerkin of purplesilk. The jewelled haft of a dagger was seen in his belt of crimsonleather, and a long sword hung at his left side. His long thin legs wereclothed in tight-fitting hose, and his feet -- which were, perhaps, overlarge -- were furnished with warm slippers lined with fur. He sat withhis legs stretched out before him, and with his hands clasped behind hishead. 

Presently he yawned, stretched his arms aloft, and stood up, walking toand fro about the apartment with his thumbs stuck in his belt. In personhe was majestic, and although his figure was too tall and his bonesover-large and ill-covered, yet his limbs were well formed, and he borehimself gracefully. His countenance was handsome, and it beamed with amanly and sweet expression, which corresponded with the sincerity of hischaracter. 

Pausing abruptly in his pacing, he addressed the English page. 

"We will now see this young lord of Bute, " he said. "Go, Edwin, and bidhim enter, and with him our friend Sir Piers de Currie. "

Edwin went out. His companion of the flaxen hair fixed his blue eyesupon the doorway, nervously expectant. 

"Ah, my young Harald, " said the King in Gaelic. "So, then, you heard thename of Bute, eh? Are you already weary of courtly life that you soprick up your ears at the name of an island?"

The youth blushed and looked ashamed, but still furtively watched thedoor as it was reopened to admit Earl Kenric. Sir Piers de Currieentering with him, remained within the doorway until the king should beready to receive him. 

Kenric was attired in the same fashion as on the day of his throning, but that he now wore no covering upon his head. He advanced towards theking, and prostrated himself humbly before him. 

"God be your guard, my lord the king, " he murmured in that pure Englishthat his mother had taught him, and raising himself on one knee he tookKing Alexander's hand in his own and pressed it to his lips. 

"I, your Majesty's humble vassal of Bute, " he continued, "Kenric byname, and son of your Majesty's loyal subject, the late Earl Hamish, donow come to pay your Majesty dutiful homage for the lands I hold of theScottish crown; and on your royal hand I swear to maintain fidelity toyour Majesty as my liege lord and sovereign, and not to enter into anyleague with the enemies of Scotland, saving only in the case of unjustoppression. In token of my loyalty I agree, as the old custom of myfathers hath ordained, to deliver once every year at the castle ofDumbarton -- as I have this day delivered -- two well-trainedgerfalcons, and -- and --"

Kenric faltered, for he heard the rustling of a woman's dress very nearhim. The young queen had entered. 

"Enough, " said the king. "And say, now, how does your sweet mother, theLady Adela, and how bears she her grief at the sad loss that hathbefallen her? The lord warden of this castle hath already acquainted usof the treachery of the man Roderic. "

"So please you, sire, she is now passing well recovered, and bears hersorrows most nobly, " said Kenric. 

"And now, " said the King, "how happens it that Roderic of Gigha wasallowed to leave your island alive? Had such a crime as his beencommitted within the realms of Scotland it is not thus that the criminalwould have escaped. "

"He was duly tried for his ill deeds, your Majesty, " said Kenric, glancing aside at the queen. "He claimed wager of combat with mybrother, whom, alas! he overcame and slew in fair fight. Our steward, Sir Oscar Redmain, finding him guilty, nevertheless passed sentence ofoutlawry upon him -- a sentence which I crave you Majesty to ratify. "

"That have we already done, " said the King; "and should this villainagain set foot in Scotland, or in any one of the Western Isles, ere histerm of outlawry be duly passed, we shall hold no man guilty who putshim to the sword -- nay, we shall reward him well. As to the lands ofGigha they are now forfeit, and the lordship over them, my young EarlKenric, shall henceforth be yours. "

Then the King drawing his sword touched Kenric on his broad back, saying:

"Earl Kenric, in right of your parentage and in virtue of the futureservice which we shall expect of you, we now pronounce you the rightfullord over the isles of Bute and Gigha, with the title of knight of themost ancient order of the Thistle. "

Sheathing his sword the king then greeted his queen and presented Kenricto her. This honour so embarrassed the youth that when her Majesty askedhim questions concerning his mother he could scarcely utter a word, butstuttered woefully. 

Daughter of Henry the Third of England, and sister of Prince Edward --who afterwards gave such trouble to the realm of Scotland -- QueenMargaret was at this time but one-and-twenty years of age. She wasbright eyed and well featured, with a clear fresh complexion, and herevery movement was of stately grace. She smiled upon Kenric with hersweet rosy lips, and bade him sit near her and tell her how his mother, accustomed to the life of the English court, contrived to live happilyin so wild and dull a place as the little island of Bute. But Kenric inreplying noticed only the coronet of pearls that the queen wore in herglossy hair, the surpassing whiteness of her neck and hands, and therich splendour of her purple velvet gown. 

Meanwhile the king had received Sir Piers de Currie. 

"This young lord of Bute pleases us well, Ranza, " said King Alexander, addressing the knight by the name of his castle; "and we doubt not thathe will prove even as stalwart an adherent as his father, though, indeed, we had been better pleased had he been somewhat older. Take himunder your care, Ranza, so that he may acquire some of your own skill atarms. "

"Methinks, sire, " said Sir Piers, "that there is little need of that, for since the death of Alpin, the lad's brother, there is none whom Icould teach less to than young Kenric. A little more weight andstrength, it may be, might serve him well. God alone can give him those. But of skill he requires no more than myself. "

"Such praise from you is a recommendation that any man in Scotland mightbe proud of, Sir Piers, " said the King. "But there is one thing more. Know you if the lad speaks the tongue of these Norse varlets of the isles?"

"Not speaking it myself, your Majesty, I am but a poor one to questionon that matter. "

The King then called Kenric to his side, and bade the young page Haraldaddress him in his native tongue. At this the flaxen-haired lad leapttowards Kenric with glistening eyes. 

"My good friend, " said he in Norse, "be not alarmed at what I shall say. The King knows not a word of our tongue. Tell me, is it to set me freethat you come hither? Do you come from my father?"

"Your father?" said Kenric. "I know not who your father may be. Methinksyou make some strange mistake!"

"Alas!" said the lad, crestfallen, "then am I the most unhappy youththat ever lived! But stay; you come from Bute. I heard the King say so. You have come in your ship. I saw when you entered this room that youwere an islander. My friend, I implore you to rescue me from the handsof these Scots. Take me away from this land, for I am well-nigh dying tobreathe once more the free air of my island home, and to rove again uponthe wide ocean. Say, will you help me to escape?"

"What!" exclaimed Kenric, "even in his Majesty's presence you ask me todo such a thing? By the rood, but you are passing bold!"

"Enough, " said King Alexander, smiling as he signed to the page to retire. 

Then he drew Sir Piers and Kenric nearer to him. 

"The death of Hamish of Bute, " said he, "is a sore calamity. We couldill spare him. But as concerning the matter of the Western Isles, thetime has come for speedy action, and we must look to you, Sir Piers, andto you, Earl Kenric, for the help that we now need. We are about todespatch an expedition to the outer islands, and it may be that themission will not be fulfilled without the spilling of blood. It is, therefore, necessary that you should gather together a goodly number ofbrave men and as many ships as may be available. With these you shallrepair to Jura, Islay, Colonsay, Mull, and, indeed, all the isles thatlie south of Morven; and there gather what knowledge may be gainedtouching the power held by Hakon of Norway in these districts. My lordof Ross will in like manner visit the more northern isles. You shall notwant for help, for we will presently send over to Bute some two or threeships from Galloway and Cowall. As to the rest, we leave it in yourhands, Ranza, who so well understand the situation. Should you, byforcibly invading the islands of the disaffected kings, succeed inconquering them, so much the more to your credit. All we ask is that youdraw not the sword ere you have done all that is possible by thepersuasions of the tongue. "

Sir Piers bowed and exchanged glances with Kenric. 

"Fortunately for our plans, " continued the King, "Roderic of Gigha isnow out of our way. He held one of the smallest of the islands, but hewas assuredly the greatest rascal in them all. Had it been otherwise weshould have hesitated to authorize this bold attempt. But there are manyof the island kings who may be very easily won over from their fickleallegiance to the crown of Norway, while many have already given ushostages for their loyal behaviour. Of these last is Earl John of Islay-- one of the most powerful of the island chiefs. We claimed a hostagefrom him, and he sent his son Harald -- the youth who has but now beenspeaking with you, my lord of Bute. Alas! the lad is a sorry scamp, andwe can do naught with him. He is ever trying to escape, for he has theheart and spirit of a viking, and naught will please him but to beroving the seas. Now his father has of late shown a disposition toabandon all thoughts of King Hakon. He has duly delivered tribute to us. We would, therefore, have you visit him early, taking the lad with you, and on his solemnly engaging to maintain his faithful allegiance toScotland you will permit his son to land. "

"Then this young viking returns with us, your Majesty?" said Kenric. 

"Even so, " said the King. 

At this point the lord warden of the castle entered the chamber andbegged the King to repair to the banqueting hall, where the morning mealwas now ready. So the King signed to Sir Piers and Kenric to follow him. 

"So please you, sire, " said Kenric, "we have with us a young man ofBute, one Allan Redmain, who, if I might be so bold as say so, would bepassing well pleased could he have the honour of kissing your Majesty'shand. "

"Bid the youth come in to breakfast with us, " said Alexander. 

And Kenric went out to search for Allan, who had begun to fear that hewould after all miss even a sight of the King. 

"Who is this Redmain?" asked Alexander of Sir Piers de Currie. 

And at that the knight told of how Allan had dived into the linn of theWhite Lady falls to save Earl Kenric's life, and the King, who admiredbravery in whatsoever form it was to be found, greeted Allan so kindlythat the lad remembered that proud occasion all the rest of his days. 

At noontide the men of Bute were again on board their galley, and whenKenric and his companions, together with young Harald of Islay, had comedown from the high rock of the castle, the long oars were set in motionand the gallant ship swept down the Clyde, making the bay of Rothesaybefore nightfall. 

 CHAPTER XVII. HOW ALLAN REDMAIN KEPT WATCH. 

Sir Piers de Currie remained that night in the castle of Rothesay, discussing with Earl Kenric their plans for the coming expedition to theisland kings. But Allan Redmain had to bethink himself of his unwillingtask of acting as watchdog on the lonely farmstead of Scalpsie, for thejudgment passed upon him in lawful assize was one which he dared notattempt to evade. To Scalpsie, therefore, he wended his steps withouteven going homeward to Kilmory to doff the fine attire which he hadassumed for the occasion of his presentation to King Alexander, andthere, drawing his plaid over his shoulders, he paced to and fro in thedark night -- from the sheepfold to the steadings and from the steadingsback to the sheepfold. 

Weary work it was in sooth, and much did he deplore the laws that madeit binding upon one of gentle blood to thus demean himself. He listenedto the mournful sound of the waves on the shore, broken sometimes by thebleating of a restless sheep in the fold. Soon he began to feel hiseyelids getting very heavy, and he sought about for a soft bed ofheather to lie down upon for a while. As he was about to curl himself up-- trusting that if any night-prowling beast should come to play havocamong the farm stock the noise of the sheep and goats would surelyawaken him -- he heard footsteps approaching. 

"So, my young watchdog, " said the voice of the farmer Blair, "you havebethought yourself of your charge at last, eh? Well is it for you thatyou have not neglected my sheep this night as you did last. No moreshall you send that sleepy-headed lad Lulach to be your proxy, for hissleeping cost me the life of one of my best ewe lambs. So look you wellto your charge now. Here is a cake of bread to keep you from hunger, anda flagon of good posset to keep you warm -- 'tis your nightly allowance. And if it so be that you get drowsy, why, sing yourself a song as do theshipmen in their night watches. But mind you this, young Kilmory, thatfor every beast I lose through the slaying of my dog, your father, SirOscar Redmain, shall pay me another of equal value. "

"Look you, David Blair, " said Allan warmly, "it is not thus that I willbe your watchdog for many nights. The task, I well know, is but a lawfuljudgment upon me for my offence, but you have no manner of right to saythat I shall send no proxy. If it please me to send Lulach, then the ladshall come, and I will pay him for his work. But to come here myself asoften as you please, that I shall not do. "

"If Lulach lose me my sheep he cannot return full value for them, " saidBlair, bethinking himself of his own interests, "whereas if they be lostby your unwatchfulness, then can I duly claim my own from your father. "

"Why did you refuse the better dog that my father offered you in placeof the one I slew?" asked Allan. 

"Because, " said the husbandman with simple pride, "it pleases me betterto know that my homestead is nightly watched by a brave and gallantman-at-arms, who, I trust, will permit no marauding Norsemen or thievingwolf to come near me while I lie sleeping. "

And so saying he turned away. 

"A murrain on you and your cattle, " growled Allan. 

And then he began to pace his rounds, leaving the cake of bread and theflagon of posset by the gate of the sheepfold. 

Not long had he been thus engaged when the heavy dew made him feel cold, and he took a good drink of the posset. This mixture of strong wine andcurdled milk made him strangely sleepy, whereupon, defying the law andDavid Blair together, he rolled himself up in his plaid and lay downupon the heather, to think of King Alexander and Queen Margaret and ofbattling Norsemen. The sound of the waves breaking upon the beach, andthe sighing of the night wind among the neighbouring fir trees, soonlulled him into a heavy sleep. 

It might be that he had slept full four hours when, feeling somethingcold against his cheek, he wakened with a start and sprang to his feet. There was a sharp yelp as of a frightened dog, and he heard the movementof footsteps upon the heather. Then the footsteps stopped and he saw thestaring eyes of a wolf glaring at him through the black darkness. 

Grasping his sword, Allan bounded off in pursuit. The wolf trotted awayat an easy pace towards the woodland. Then as Allan approached nearer, off again it sped, leading him deep into a quiet dingle to the east ofLoch Quien. But at each time the animal paused Allan came nearer andnearer than before, until at last it seemed that he had come withinstriking distance of the brute. He had not his bow with him, or he mighthave made short work of the wolf. But he did not shrink from a closeencounter. 

As he heard the low snarling growl before him he raised his weapon, swinging it round to strike. Lightly the wolf sprang aside and the swordblade whizzed through the air, striking nothing. And ere Allan, expecting to find the animal lying dead at his feet, could wellunderstand how he had missed his aim, the wolf had bounded off and waslost in the darkness. 

Then Allan rubbed his drowsy eyes and questioned if he had not beendreaming. But suddenly from behind him there came through the still aira strange, weird, human voice that startled him more than the sight ofany wild animal might have done. 

"Allan Redmain, " it said hurriedly, "is this you?"

"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Allan, turning round, "who spoke?"

And against the darkness of the tree trunks he again saw two shiningeyes, on a level with his own, and scarce a couple of yards' distanceaway from him. 

Now, whether it was that those eyes but reflected the wan light of dawnthat was breaking above the eastern hills, or that they did indeed shinered and green by turns as did the eyes of the wolf, may not be told. ButAllan shrank back at sight of them with a gruesome fear at his heart. 

"Hush, hush!" said the voice in a whisper that was scarcely louder thanthe sighing of the wind among the trees. "It is I, Aasta of Kilmory. "

"Saint Columba help me!" said Allan. "Aasta? Aasta the wolf maiden? Whattrick is this you have played me? It is you, then, and no wolf that Ihave been following? And I had nearly slain you!"

"Listen, Allan Redmain; and, I beg you, make no noise, " said Aasta, drawing nearer. "Listen if you hear not footsteps on the moor yonder. "

Allan held in his breath for a moment, and in the stillness he heardindeed the pat, pat of a pair of feet hurrying away. 

"Well, " he said, "I do in truth hear footsteps. But what of that? 'Tisbut the tread of some wild boar or prowling wolf. "

"Not so, " said Aasta; "they are the footsteps of the fair-haired youthwho came with you in Earl Kenric's ship from Dumbarton. "

"Harald of Islay! He?"

"Even so, " said Aasta. "Two hours ago he escaped by stealth from thecastle of Rothesay. He is now seeking the means of flying from theisland. I know not wherefore he was brought to Bute; but the manner ofhis escaping and his care to avoid being seen were such that I followedhim. I had gone to Rothesay to learn of your return, and to get news forElspeth. Setting out for Kilmory I saw this youth steal out by the westpostern, cloaked and armed. Tarry not here; for if it be that the youthhad no right to leave the castle, then he must even be forcibly taken back. "

"Even so, Aasta, " said Allan, "and much do I commend you for your timelywarning of the lad's escape. Though how by your witchery you brought mehither I cannot well understand. "

"Seek not to learn, then, " returned Aasta, leading him forth upon theopen land; "but come ere it be too late to arrest this fugitive. "

With no further words the fair maiden led him southward towards the seacliffs, skipping over the streamlets that crossed their path, andpassing over wide stretches of barren moorland. And down into everycreek and bay she turned her searching eyes. Suddenly she halted anddrew back a few paces, then crouched upon the ground, bidding Allan dolikewise. Thus she crept to the brink of the cliff that stands frowningabove the bay of Stravannan. 

The light of dawn had by this time chased away the shadows of night, andheadlands and rocks stood out clear against the gray sky. Aasta pointeddown to the stony beach below. The tide was at half flood, and lyingabove the water's edge was a small fishing boat. Young Harald of Islayhad grasped the boat's gunwale and was pulling and tugging with all hisstrength. A few more pulls and the little craft would be launched. Everyeffort he made brought it a foot nearer the water. 

"Ah, had I but my bow and a good straight arrow!" whispered Allan, crouching down at Aasta's side. 

"Hush! Give me your plaid, " said she. "Let him not see you; but go youdown by the farther side of the bay while I take this nearer path. Whenyou hear me cry as the peewit cries, run as quickly as may be towardsthe boat. Methinks by his fair hair that the lad should be of theNorsemen. Is that so?"

Throwing the plaid about her head and shoulders, Aasta went downward bythe craggy rocks and was soon upon the beach. The boat was already halfin the water. The young Norseman turned with a startled look at hearingfootsteps on the shingle. Aasta walked towards him slowly, bending downnow and again as though she were gathering shellfish. Seeing that it wasonly, as he supposed, some harmless fisherwoman, Harald took courage andwaited. 

"You are abroad betimes, my young master, " said she, speaking in theNorse. "And methinks you have work that ill befits such white hands andcomely apparel as yours. Let me, I pray you, help you to launch your boat. "

"Your words, fair damsel, " said the youth as he regarded her inwondering surprise, "surely betoken that you are not of the people ofthis land. "

"And yours, my master, that you are equally foreign to these shores. Buttell me, sir, where go you in your boat?"

"I go hence to Islay, " said he, "if so be I may without help adventureso far. "

"Methinks, " said Aasta, "that it were at least wise in you to have thehelp of a pair of oars. "

"There is a pair lying at the foot of the cliff there, " said the youth, pointing up the beach. 

"Go, then, and bring them, " said she, "while I launch your boat; and itmay be that, if you are bound for Islay, I will, if it so please you, accompany you. "

"Sweet damsel, " said he, "surely some strange good fortune hath sent youto my aid!" and at that he ran up the beach to the place where thefishermen had left their oars. 

As he went the cry of a peewit rose in the morning air

"Pee-wit, pee-weet-weet!"

In a few moments Allan Redmain was at Aasta's side. She bade him standbehind her. Harald the hostage, not seeing him, walked back towards theboat bearing the two oars over his shoulder. Then suddenly Allanconfronted him. 

"So, my brave viking, you would escape, eh?" he said, smiling at thelad's discomfiture. 

Harald frowning and with flashing eyes laid the oars across the boat'sthwarts, and grasping the gunwale tried to launch her. Aasta, makingpretence to help him, pulled the opposite way and the boat did not move. Then seeing that he was intercepted the lad promptly whipped out hisdirk and sprang towards Allan with his weapon raised. 

Allan stepped aside, yet did not attempt to unsheathe his sword. Haraldfollowed upon him, but in an instant Aasta had leapt behind him andflung her plaid in a loop over his head. With a vigorous tug at the twoends of the garment she pulled him over and he fell upon his back. Allanseized the dirk that dropped from the lad's hand and threw it aside. Grasping Harald's two wrists he then turned him over, planting his kneeupon his back. 

"Now, Aasta, " said Allan calmly, "methinks we had best secure his armswith my plaid. Give me an end of it that we may twist it; so. Now laceit well under his arms while I bring it round his legs. There; he willnot readily draw himself out of that noose. I will leave him in yourcare until I launch Ronald Gray's boat. "

Then, as Allan pushed the little craft into the water, Aasta bent by theyoung Norseman's side, running her fingers through his flaxen hair. 

"So bold a spirit, " said she, "is not oft inclosed in so fair a head. But ah, my young master, beware how you let that spirit escape. 'Twilldo you no manner of good to have thus avoided the castle of Rothesay, for there in that castle are dungeons deeper than Loch Ascog, and colderthan the snowy peak of Goatfell. "

"Oh, deceitful woman that you are!" muttered the youth, "to tell me thatyou were not of the people of this land. Had it not been for you I mighteven now have been afloat!"

"Had it not been for me, " said Aasta, "you would even now have beendead, for if I had let you use your dirk as you intended, Allan Redmain, whose prisoner you now are, would certainly have slain you. "

"That would I, " said Allan, now bending down and taking hold of the ladin his strong arms and carrying him to the boat. 

"'Tis a long pull round to Rothesay Bay, " said Aasta, "and it may bethat you will yet have trouble with your charge. Let me go with you. "

Allan, standing knee deep in the water, held out his hand and helped herinto the boat. Then as she sat down he pushed off and sprang on board, taking the oars. 

Some four hours afterwards the boat rounded Bogany Point and entered thebay of Rothesay. By this time many of the men of the castle, led byKenric and Sir Piers de Currie, were scouring the island in search ofthe fugitive Harald, and when the boat touched at the little pier it wasas though it were one of the fishing craft returning after a night atsea. Allan carried his prisoner up to the castle gates, followed by acrowd of wondering children, and meeting the Lady Adela in the hail hetold her how he had passed his first night as watchdog over at Scalpsie. 

 CHAPTER XVIII. THE EXPEDITION TO THE ISLAND KINGS. 

It was on a day in the month of August, 1262, that the armament oftwelve gallant ships of war, under Sir Piers de Currie and Earl Kenricof Bute, entered the sound of Kilbrannan on their voyage to the outerisles. There had passed six weeks of busy preparation, for there werestores to be got ready and put on board, small boats to be made trim, timbers to be caulked, sails to be mended, many hundreds of arrows to becut, pointed, and feathered, and longbows to be strung, swords andbattle-axes to be forged and sharpened, and bucklers to be stretched. And now, with all these matters duly completed, the twelve vessels, withtheir sails brailed up to the yards, and their long oars moving withregular stride, crept down the channel between Kintyre and Arran. Leading them was the great Dragon -- the same that had sailed toDumbarton -- commanded by Earl Kenric himself, who stood on the poopclothed in armour of iron network and with the sword of Somerled at hisside, and wearing his shining brass helm crested with gold wings. 

The lion banner of Scotland, woven in silk, fluttered at his bark'smasthead. In his ship's waist, toiling at the heavy oars, were two scoreof well-trained retainers, with a reserve of yet another two score andten of his sturdy islanders crowded at the prow. 

Side by side with the Dragon was the Eagle, the galley of Sir Piers deCurrie, having on board young Harald the hostage; and in their wakesailed two other ships of Arran and four of Bute, one of Dunoon, andthree of Galloway, and they were the stoutest and tallest ships that hadever sailed in those deep blue waters. 

On the /Kraken/ of Rothesay was Allan Redmain. Right proud was he of hiscommand, for even until the fifth week he had dreaded that he might notbe of this expedition by reason of his being bound as watcher of thefarmstead of Scalpsie. Night by night, in starlight or rainstorm, he hadduly fulfilled his unwilling charge, albeit he ofttimes slept throughhalf the night, and it so befell that on each occasion that he hadslept, on the next day thereafter the farmer claimed that he had lostyet another two or three of his ewe lambs, and Sir Oscar Redmain wasperforce bound to make good the loss. 

Now, as time went on this thing happened so often that Allan began tothink strange thoughts, for never but on the first night of his watchinghad he seen aught of either wolf or fox. Seeking for a reason, he foundthat on those nights that he had slept it was then that he had drunkdeepest of the crafty farmer's strong posset, and he was thereafter waryof that drink. One night, having thrown the posset away without tastingit, he made pretence of sleeping, and as he lay there on the heather andwatched with one eye open, behold the wolf came and carried off twoyoung goats. 

Now it was not by any chance a four-legged wolf that did this thing. Themarauder was indeed none other than the wily farmer himself, who carriedthe goats off to another place, there to keep them in secret, with themany lambs that he had in like manner stolen, until he might, just assecretly, take them over to Ayr market. 

When Allan discovered the trick that had been played upon him he wentstraightway to Earl Kenric and told him of it. 

"If this be so, " said the young king, "then David Blair shall beseverely punished, and you, Allan, shall be freed from this dog's workat the next assize. But methinks that long ere this you might haveavoided this nightly watching. Know you not of that custom of old timewhich holds that an offender against the laws shall be assoiled, or setfree from all penalty, on producing the heads of two wolves that he hasslain? Now, why have you not brought me your wolves' heads?"

"Alas!" said Allan, "I fear me that until the winter time comes there isbut one wolf in all Bute, and that is the werewolf Aasta the Fair. Wouldyou that I should bring you that damsel's head, my lord?"

"The saints forbid!" said Kenric. "But bide your time and you shall beset free, and the more speedily since I intend that you shall come withus on our journey to the isles. "

Well, on that same day Earl Kenric went secretly over to the forest ofToward, in Cowall, with a few chosen men, and in the evening when Allanwas setting forth for Scalpsie he found two great black wolves lyingdead and bloody beside the granary of Kilmory Castle, and he cut offtheir heads and carried the same to Rothesay and delivered them to the king. 

"Here, my lord, are the heads of two wolves, " said he, "that were alivethis morning and now are dead; and I cut off their heads with my ownhands. For this I claim my freedom. "

"Right so, " said Kenric smiling. "You have well won your freedom, and soeasily, that methinks it might even have been secured four weeks ago andmore. "

And now Allan Redmain was made master of the /Kraken/ galley, with fourscore of skilful archers under him. And as the vessels sped downKilbrannan Sound on this August morning he trod the deck with a proudfirm step that made his long sword rattle in its sheath, and with hisyoung heart beating quicker in anticipation of the battles that werebefore him. 

By midnight the ships, with all sails set and oars inboard, were abreastof the Mull of Kintyre, and at sunrise the next morning, beating duenorth the voyagers sighted the little isle of Cara, with the higher landof the larger isle of Gigha rising boldly behind it. 

Kenric brought his galley to the shoreward of her consorts, so thatleaning over the bulwarks he might see this land of Gigha that was nowhis own. The coast was wild and barren, with black jagged rocks risinghigh out of a bed of foaming breakers, but sloping off from the steepheadlands into green upland pastures, striped with glistening streams. Through a long rock tunnel that pierced the cliffs he could see thelight of the morning sun rays, and the great Atlantic rollers, breakingin the midst of this tunnel, shot up in a cloud of spray through twoopen shafts and roared with thunderous noise. 

At the middle of the island, which is but six miles in length, was thehill of Dunchifil, crowned with a strong fortress. 

The ships, sailing up the western shores, came at last into theharbourage of a calm landlocked bay, whose waters were so crystal clearthat one might see the pebbles and sea urchins at the bottom, manyfathoms deep. So, when the anchors were all down a longboat was launchedfrom the Dragon, and Kenric, with Sir Piers, Allan Redmain, and oneWilliam MacAlpin, a cousin to the late Earl Hamish, were rowed ashore. 

From a castle at the head of the bay there came down an armed Norseman, followed by a dozen swordsmen. 

"Whose are these ships?" said he with a loud voice, "and what men are yewho have brought them hither?"

"Methinks our banner might tell you that they are the ships of hisMajesty of Scots, " said Kenric stepping forward. "As to myself, sinceyou know me not, my name is Kenric, the son of Hamish. I am the king ofGigha, and so please you I am come to lay claim to my castles and lands. "

At this the Norseman bowed his head. 

"God give you joy of them, my lord, " said he, and then he drew his swordand delivered it to his master. "Little care I what king I serve so longas I have food and drink, with God's good gift of peace. And since ourEarl Roderic went hence to Bute we have daily expected some suchhappening as this. I trust, my lord, you will find that I, Olaf Grimm, have in the meantime taken good care of your lands and subjects. "

Then Kenric and his companions went up to the castle and to the fortressupon the heights, to take formal possession of his little kingdom and toreceive the homage of his people. 

"And now, " said he to Olaf Grimm, "if there be any in Gigha who havewrongs to redress or complaint to make to me, let them be called. "

But Olaf told him that there were none, for, said he, "since EarlRoderic has been gone we have known naught but happiness and peace. "

"Long may that peace abide, " said Kenric. "And now do I leave mykinsman, William MacAlpin, as my chosen steward and governor over mylands and as the defender of my people. "

Kenric then went on board Sir Piers de Currie's ship, taking a fishermanof Gigha to act as pilot, and they left the rest of their barks atanchor in the quiet bay under the care of Allan Redmain. 

The Eagle galley then unattended made sail across the wide channelwestward towards Islay, whose high hills could already be seen like bluemists upon the far-off sea line. 

"Now, my young valiant, " said Sir Piers to Harald the hostage, who satupon the after deck looking wistfully over the tumbling waters, "knowyou the colour of your native hills?"

"Well indeed do I know that, " said the lad, "and by your course I nowjudge that you are indeed taking me home, for which I am most trulythankful. My sojourn in your country has been little to my taste. Wellwill it be for the lord of Bute, ay, and for his Majesty of Scots also, if I take not a bitter revenge for all that I have suffered at theirhands. But, prithee, turn your ship's head yet more to the southward tocatch the current of Loch Andail, and so gain a few minutes' time. St. Olaf, how my heart beats at sight of those hills! Ah, how the momentslag! speed on, speed on!"

"Patience, patience, Harald, you are not landed yet, " said the knight. "And should your good father not choose to agree to our terms, then backyou go to Scotland as speedily as we came. "

"Let me but see my father and he will agree, " said Harald. 

"Let your father agree and he will see you, " returned Sir Piers. 

"Look you, " said the lad with flashing eyes, "if you put me not upon theshores of Islay in two hours' time, then by the soul of St. Olaf I willslay every man in your ship. As to the lord of Bute, I will haul him upby a rope's end to your masthead!"

"So ho!" said Kenric, "methinks, Sir Piers, that this little dog mightnow have a chain about his pretty neck. What say you?"

Sir Piers then ordered one of his men to take the lad below and keepstrict guard over him. 

Late that afternoon the galley entered the beautiful Loch Andail andsailed in between ranges of fertile hills, whose lower slopes were goldwith ripening oats and waving barley fields. Islay was at that time oneof the most wealthy and prosperous of the Western Isles, thicklypopulated, and famous over all Scotland for the rich produce of itslooms and the beauty of its native pottery wares. It was important toAlexander that he should win over the complete and undivided adherenceof the powerful ruler of so wealthy a country, and Sir Piers de Curriewell understood the gravity of his mission. 

The anchor was dropped in the middle of the loch where it widens aboveBowmore. Sir Piers and Kenric, attended by six armed men, were takenashore. A tall husbandman with a long golden beard and sea-blue eyesstood upon the rocks where they landed, looking out at their great shipfrom under his wide flapping hat. 

"Say, my good man, " said Sir Piers, addressing him, "say if we may hopeto find my lord the Earl John in his castle of Bowmore?"

"That, " said the man smiling as he swung his sickle from side to side, "must needs depend upon whether I enter that castle before you or behindyou. But doubtless John of Islay will be right well pleased to give youentertainment this night, for 'tis long since he had news from Scotland, whence, if I mistake not, you are now come. How fares our sovereign lordthe King -- his Majesty Alexander?"

"Passing well, " said Sir Piers, "for 'tis but a few weeks past that Ihad speech with him at Dumbarton. "

"Ah, then you heard also of my son -- my dear son Harald?" cried EarlJohn eagerly. "The saints grant that you bring me no ill news of him!But come, I beg you, for 'tis ill mannered in me thus to question youere you have broken bread. "

Then the lord of Islay led his visitors to his castle, and there theyenjoyed a right lordly repast in the banqueting hall. And when the feastwas over Sir Piers de Currie, as ambassador from the King of Scots, claimed the homage of Earl John, who solemnly swore upon his sword andby the soul of his Majesty the King that he would be true to his fealtyto Scotland and abjure all allegiance to Hakon of Norway. 

"My lord, " said Sir Piers, "now that you have given us this assurance ofyour faithfulness, it is my pleasure to tell you that your son is onboard our ship and will be at once restored to you. For these are hisMajesty's instructions. "

In another hour young Harald the hostage was released from the care ofthe guards who stood over him. But as the lad left the ship he shook hisclosed fist at Kenric and swore an oath of vengeance upon him and uponall the men of Scotland whom he should ever afterwards meet. 

Kenric thought little of this threat, but it was not long ere thehotheaded young viking put it into execution. 

Now so easily had Sir Piers de Currie fared at Islay, and so much did hepride himself upon the success of his first negotiation, that he thoughtsurely he would meet with equal favour in the other islands. Returningto Gigha he ordered a division of his forces. Bidding Kenric proceedwith a squadron of six ships to Colonsay, Coll, and Tiree, he took underhis own command the six other galleys, namely, three of Arran, one ofDunoon, one of Galloway, and one of Bute, the last being the /Kraken/, of which Allan Redmain was the master. 

With these six galleys Sir Piers, leaving Gigha in advance of Kenric, sailed for the isles that lie off the mainland of Argyll and Lorne, agreeing to rejoin Kenric in three weeks' time in the sound of Iona. 

The first island Sir Piers went to after leaving Gigha was the isle ofJura. But there he soon found that Erland the Old was not so easily tobe won over as his neighbour of Islay, for he had already renounced allallegiance to Scotland and was in open league with the King of Norway. So when he saw the six ships of the Clyde sailing along his ruggedcoasts he mustered all his retainers by the summons of the fiery crossand gave fight. There was a vigorous battle in the sound of Jura, withmuch slaughter on either side. The ship of Dunoon was captured by themen of Jura, and all on board were brutally slain. 

Then Sir Piers de Currie and Allan Redmain with their remaining galleyssailed yet farther up the strait and landed on the north of Jura andsacked many villages till the burns ran red with blood. The men ofGalloway fought as wild wolves, and much ado had their leader to stopthem from breaking into the monastery and chapels and plundering them ofthe treasures that were therein stored. 

In the midst of this bloody work Erland the Old again appeared with hisarmy of islanders from the south, and at last drove off the invaders, capturing the galley of Galloway and dealing with her crew as thegallant men of Dunoon had already been dealt with. 

Thus repulsed, Sir Piers drew off and crossed to the mainland, takingshelter in the loch of Crinan. The good master of Duntroon Castle, whowas for the Scots, gave succour to the wounded men, and suppliedreinforcements to the number of forty retainers. 

After five days the four ships sailed off again, taking possession inthe name of the Scots king of the isles of Scarba, Luing, Seil, Kerrera, and Lismore, besieging many castles and imposing oaths of fealty upontheir lords, and lastly to the great isle of Mull, whose king was a trueScot and most friendly disposed. 

By this time the three weeks were passed, and they sailed round thesouth of Mull and anchored in the offing between Staffa and Iona. Soanchored, they waited for Kenric's squadron. But the days went by; themonth of August passed into September, and Kenric did not appear. Awatch was kept both night and day, yet the six ships that were soanxiously expected came not to the appointed place. 

 CHAPTER XIX. STORMING AN ISLAND STRONGHOLD. 

One morning very early Allan Redmain was on watch. He had had his fillof fighting, and not few were the wounds he had received of both arrowand spear. Wrapped in his warm plaid, he paced the deck. The seagullsflew about the masthead and dipped into the blue water. The mountains ofMull were shrouded in white mist. Suddenly Allan paused his walk andlooked northward towards the little isle of Staffa. On the sea line hesaw what at first he took to be the Treshnish Islands; but soon thesefaint shadows loomed more distinct through the morning mist and took theshape of ships' sails. Six ships he counted. 

"Kenric is safe!" he sighed. 

Then ordering one of his small boats to be lowered, he went to tell thegood news to Sir Piers on his galley hard by. But as together theylooked across the sea they counted yet another ship. 

"You mistake, Allan, " said Sir Piers. "These are not Kenric's ships atall, but the galleys of my lord of Ross, who has, as you know, been uponan expedition similar to our own -- to Skye and Lewis. "

"Alas!" said Allan. "Then, where can Kenric be?"

"Where indeed?" sighed Sir Piers. 

At this moment one of the men of Arran touched his master's arm. 

"There is a fishing coracle coming alongside of us, my master, " said he, "with two fishermen in her. "

Sir Piers and Allan crossed the deck and saw a small boat bearingtowards them, rowed by a brawny western islander. 

"Saint Columba protect us!" cried Allan. "Look but at that man sittingin the stern! 'Tis none other than Duncan Graham of Rothesay, my lordKenric's henchman. Whence comes he? and where is his master?

"Duncan! Duncan!" he called. 

Duncan raised his eyes. His face was haggard and wan. His cheeks werethin, his clothes torn and bloodstained. 

Allan threw down a rope's end, and the boat was drawn alongside. Scarcely able to move his gaunt limbs, Duncan clambered up the galley'sside and fell upon the deck, moaning. From under his ragged plaid hedrew a formidable sword and held it towards Allan without speaking a word. 

"The Thirsty Sword!" cried Allan in dread surprise as he took theweapon. "Alas! Kenric is most surely dead!"

"Not so!" moaned Duncan, lolling out his tongue. "Ah, food, food!"

Then Sir Piers de Currie bent down, and with the help of Allan took upthe giant form of Duncan, and carried him below into the cabin. 

For two long hours the man lay without uttering a word. But the warmwine with which they fed him brought back something of his strength. Heput his hand to his chest to show that he was wounded. Allan Redmaindrew away the garments and revealed a gaping sword wound. 

"No; not dead, " moaned Duncan. "He yet lives. But oh, my masters, hastento his aid, for he is even now a helpless prisoner in the dark dungeonof Breacacha Castle!"

"A prisoner?" echoed Allan. 

"Breacacha?" said Sir Piers. "Where is that castle? In what isle?"

"Over in Coll, " said Duncan, pointing westward across the sea. 

Then from the ships of the Earl of Ross came the loud call of a clarionhorn. Sir Piers de Currie moved to go on deck. 

"Stay, stay, Sir Piers, " said Allan Redmain. "Ere You go, give me, Iimplore you, the liberty to take two of our ships across to Coll, that Imay save my friend and master and rescue him from out his dungeon. "

"Little need have you to ask that, Allan, " said the knight. "Would thatI might accompany you! But I am in the hands of my lord of Ross, whoseorders, by the King's instructions, I am now subject to. But ere Iresign my command, let my last directions be to you, Allan. Take two ofour galleys, with what men you will. Rescue our dear young friend evenif need be at the cost of your own life, and God be with you. Farewell!"

Allan Redmain had Duncan carried upon the /Kraken/ galley, and, takingalso the /Seahorse/ of Arran, with a full company of men upon each, heset out to cross the twenty miles of sea that divide Iona from theisland of Coll; while Sir Piers de Currie repaired on board the flagshipof the Earl of Ross. 

"And now, Duncan, " said Allan, when his two vessels were well under way, "take, I beg you, a little more food --"

"No, no, " said Duncan, bracing himself up. "I have already taken whatwill serve me till I tell you all that has befallen my young master. Notanother bite passes my lips until I have seen him again in life. But, lest by chance my own life's breath ebb out too soon, let me direct youto this stronghold wherein the Earl Kenric lies lingering to his deathin bitter hunger. Know, then, that the castle of Breacacha lies at thesoutheast of Coll. Could I have got within its strong walls, as you andyour men-at-arms may now do, haply I might have saved him. But I aloneam left of those who followed him ashore, and I could not reach himwithout help. The great God be thanked that I have at last found it. "

Then Duncan, groaning, threw back his head and closed his eyes. 

"Men of Bute, " said Allan, returning to his shipmates, "yonder, in thatisle that you see across the waters, our lord Kenric lies perishing ofhunger in a castle dungeon. No more need I say to you, my bravecomrades, for well do I know that there is no man of you who will thinkof rest until we have saved him. Speed you, my lads, work well youroars, and God grant that we be yet in time. "

"Kenric! Kenric!" they cried with one voice as they fell to their oars, and so the ship sped on over the chopping waves, leaving the companiongalley of Arran to follow in the wake. 

"Now, Duncan, if so be you have the strength, " said Allan, going back tohis cabin, "I would hear what you have yet to tell. "

Duncan raised himself on his elbow and began. His tale was told withfeeble, faltering voice, and not until afterwards did Allan hear it inall its particulars. 

Kenric, with his squadron of six galleys, left the little isle of Gighaere the galleys of Sir Piers de Currie were well out of sight. Throughthe fierce sound of Islay his good ships sailed as with spreading wings, and the next morning he sighted the isle of Oronsay. Taking the westerncoast, he crept up to the more northern isle of Colonsay, and stood offa little village that had a castle in its midst. Above the gates of thiscastle, that was called Dungallan, waved the white falcon banner of theold Norse vikings. On seeing it, Kenric hoisted the banner of theScottish lion. 

Now the position held at this time by both Erland of Jura and Sweyn ofColonsay -- vassals both of Hakon of Norway -- was shown in theconversation that was the prelude to the murder of the good Earl Hamishof Bute. Of the attitude held by these two island kings towardsScotland, Kenric, however, knew nothing, and though it may be that hewas eager enough to meet Earl Sweyn the Silent in mortal combat, yet hedid not forget the caution of King Alexander against drawing the swordere the tongue had done its work. He was loth to show battle, while hewas careful enough not to venture ashore unprepared for a warlike reception. 

As Kenric was making ready to land he looked towards the shore, andthere came down some fourscore of the men of Colonsay. Fair-haired sonsof the North they were, all well armed and ready to resist the strangerswith a shower of their swift arrows. Then Kenric knew that there was tobe no chance of a peaceful parley, and he made no more ado but drew hisgalleys inshore, and bidding his men crouch down in the shelter of theirbulwarks he assailed the islanders with such volleys of well-directedarrows that they soon began to retreat towards their stronghold, leavingseveral dead and wounded lying upon the beach. 

It so chanced that the island was at that time but ill protected, forEarl Sweyn had gone on a roving cruise upon the seas, leaving a weakenedgarrison to defend his people. By what means the remaining islanders hadso promptly prepared themselves for the arrival of the invaders Kenricdid not pause to conjecture, but that they had been warned of his cominghe could not doubt. Had he by chance caught sight of young Harald ofIslay standing apart on the heights the matter had needed no deepquestioning. For that young viking had lost no time in crossing over toColonsay, and though the lord of the island was absent he neverthelesswarned the garrison that Kenric of Bute, with a squadron of twelvegalleys, was about to make a raid upon their island, and that it behovedthem to make speedy preparations to resist him. 

His landing being now possible, owing to the retreat of the defenders, Kenric ordered two score of men from each of his ships to take theirarms and follow him ashore. With two hundred and forty men-at-arms hethen landed. His own retainers of Bute formed in a compact body upon thestrand, and led by himself and Duncan Graham they at once marchedtowards the castle. But John Dornoch's men of Galloway waited not togive order to their ranks, neither stayed they for the word of commandfrom Kenric, but rushed in hot pursuit of the islanders through thelittle street of their village. 

Now the wild Scots of Galloway, whom Alexander had sent as acontribution to the forces, were as yet little known to Kenric, and hewas not long in discovering that he might have done far better withoutthem. They had joined the expedition with minds bent upon pillage andslaughter. They were by nature a people of wild and ferocious habits, afierce and ungovernable set of men who fought half naked, and were wontto commit acts of untold cruelty upon the inhabitants of the countriesthey invaded. Also, as both Sir Piers de Currie and Kenric discovered totheir cost, they were never content but in leading the van in battle. 

Ere Kenric and his well-ordered men arrived at the castle theGallwegians had already assailed the gate, and in despite of many arrowsthat fell about them from the towers and loopholes, they hammered withgreat clubs and iron battering bars, clamouring for blood. The gate soongave way before the assault of their vigorous blows. Then theGallwegians, with cries of triumph, rushed in upon the defendinggarrison, followed presently by Kenric and his retainers of Bute. Aguard of some fifty men met them within the fallen gates and boldlydefended their stronghold with swords and pikes. The men of Gallowayleading, mowed them down and passed over their dead bodies, until, finding no further resistance, they proceeded to their work of plunder. 

Kenric, leaving his men with Duncan, and calling but a dozen to followhim, ascended to the battlements and tore down the Norwegian flag. Hesearched about for Earl Sweyn, believing he was in hiding. But neitherSweyn nor his steward could he find, nor any living man who could tellhim where the lord of Colonsay might be. 

His men, ranked in order now without the gates, awaited him, and, returning, he led them in the direction of the beach. But as he passedthrough the little settlement of wooden huts a fearful scene presenteditself. The men of Galloway whom he had left upon their two galleys, hadboldly followed their countrymen ashore, led by their under-captain. While Kenric, who had himself not yet struck a blow, was within thecastle, these wild men had fallen upon the village. They had burst openthe doors of the cottages and ferociously slain the innocent people. Every threshold was bespattered with blood. Before Kenric had time tointerfere, or even to realize what had taken place, many of the homeshad been plundered and laid waste. 

On a little knoll above the village a band of the Gallwegians hadgathered in a crowd. As Kenric went towards them he heard screams ofterror and of pain. With his buckler on his left arm, and in his handthe Thirsty Sword that had not yet been used, he led his men onward andforced his way into the crowd. Three women, who had been with othersescaping to the hills, now lay slain upon the grass, with theirslaughtered infants by their sides. A shock of horror overcame Kenric ashe saw two burly Gallwegians in their wanton fury raise each a smallchild upon the point of his spear, and shake the spear until the child, pierced through the body, fell down to his hands. 

"Fiends and dogs!" cried Kenric grasping firmly his sword. "Cowards andbrutes!" and wielding his weapon with a mighty swoop he brought it downonce, twice, upon the miscreants' heads. 

"Now!" he cried yet again as he stood with one foot upon the bleedinghead of one of the men he had slain. "Now, you vile dogs! let another ofyou touch one of these innocent children that remain and my sword shallcleave his head in twain. "

He looked to some twenty fear-stricken children who with their mothersstood in a group at his right side. 

"Back to your ships, ye brutes!" he continued. "Back this instant!"

"Who, then, are you that you so dare to command my men?" exclaimed JohnDornoch, their captain, as with dripping sword and menacing looks hestepped forward and confronted Kenric. 

"What? And you, the captain of these men, would excuse this spilling ofinnocent blood -- this massacre of women and children!" cried Kenric, flushing crimson with just fury. "Who bade you thus to take the lives ofthe helpless? I am your leader here. By the King's own appointment do Ilead you. It is I who will be held accountable for this most wickedslaughter. 

"And now, John Dornoch, I do command you to return to your galleys andtake your band of ruffians with you. "

"Men of Galloway!" cried Dornoch, "heed not the mawkish cries of thisupstart stripling. Obey my bidding and spare not, but kill, kill!"

Then Kenric, hearing this, gripped with both hands his ponderous sword, looked round for a moment to see that his own faithful men were near todefend the children, and said with loud voice which all could hear:

"Dornoch of Galloway, those men shall not obey your inhuman commands. Come on! stripling or man, 'tis not such mean cowards as you whom Iwould fear. Come on, I say!"

Dornoch advanced with a mocking smile on his lips and raised his sword. The crowd drew back. He was full ten inches taller than Kenric of Bute, and the muscles of his broad bare chest were as the roots of a tree thatrise above the ground; as the nether boughs of the fir tree were hisstrong and hairy arms. Little cause did he see to shrink from combatwith the youth who thus challenged him. 

Their weapons crossed and clashed. It seemed to Kenric that his swordurged him with a force that he could not disobey. He made a few quickpasses, then with the full strength in his arms and his supple body hesmote his antagonist a terrible blow upon the head, cutting down even tothe collarbone. Then Dornoch fell to the ground and moved no more. 

The Gallwegians, seeing the fire that was in Kenric's eyes andmarvelling at his skill and strength, shrank back amazed and cowed. 

"Now let one of you fail to obey me and I will serve him as I haveserved your captain, " cried Kenric with stern menace. "Back to yourgalleys with you this instant!"

And the men slunk off, crestfallen and dismayed. 

"Right well have you served that hound, my lord, " said Duncan, "for hewas indeed a very brute. Fear not that his curs will now disobey you, and trust in our faithful men of Bute, who will give their lives ere anyfurther wrong be done. And now methinks 'twere well that we hastened tothe priory, for when we came into the crowd I heard some of thesescoundrels speak of the plunder some of their band are seeking in thatholy place. "

"Infamous dogs!" muttered Kenric. "Oh to think that I should be doomedto be the leader of men so wicked!"

Leading the way to the priory, which was to the south of the village, hefound that even this sacred edifice had not escaped sacrilege. Thepriory grange had been sacked and pillaged. Two of the friars had beenslain whilst defending the villagers who had taken refuge in thesanctuary, and when Kenric appeared at the head of his troops a band ofthe men of Galloway were in the act of setting the chapel in flames; aheap of straw was piled before the arched door. But just as the flintswere being struck to make a light Duncan Graham fell upon the men, throwing them aside, and the building was saved. 

Many hours did it occupy Kenric ere he could, even in a small way, appease the wrath of the much-injured islanders and restore to themtheir devastated homes. His men of Bute returned to their ships withoutso much as a sword wound. 

Twelve of the Gallwegians had been slain and many wounded, but even themost unruly now bowed before the commands of the young lord of Bute, andwent back in submission to their posts. 

The isle of Colonsay had been taken; but, saving only at the moment oflanding, there had been no fair fighting, and with such forces behindhim, Kenric might have taken the ill-protected island without thedrawing of a sword. 

The wanton massacre of the women and children was a thing which no manof honour could excuse, and Kenric felt that he had rather have been thevanquished than the conqueror under such conditions. His grief for thosewho had fallen victims to the wild Gallwegians was only partly softenedby the remembrance that he had at least saved their brethren fromfurther inhumanity. 

Having taken formal possession of the island and gathered his forcestogether, he went on board the ships of Galloway. There he severelyrebuked the men for what they had done, and threatened them withpunishment if any should again prove unruly. Then he picked out twoscore of those who had been faithful to their posts in remaining onboard instead of rushing after their companions, and these he left, under trusty officers of his own, with one of the galleys, in charge ofthe island. 

This proceeding, made in the interests of the people of Colonsay, was insome respects unwise, for by this means the most savage and ungovernablewere now quartered aboard one ship. But Kenric made no doubt that withhis own four galleys and their crews he would have no further trouble. 

So indeed it might have been. But in crossing with his five vessels overthe stretch of sea between Colonsay and Tiree he encountered a stronggale from the southeast. The Gallwegians, being indifferent seamen, felloff to leeward and lost control of their galley. In the nighttime theywere driven out into the Atlantic beyond Skerryvore. When the stormabated they drifted northward, landed on many islands in turn, playinggreat havoc amongst the children of the old vikings, and so disgracingtheir own country Scotland that the Norsemen of the Hebrides vowedvengeance upon all Scots wheresoever they might encounter them. 

 CHAPTER XX. ALONE WITH DEATH. 

Kenric with his squadron, reduced now to four galleys, voyaged to theisle of Tiree -- a distance of about fifty miles from Colonsay. There, without drawing arrow from sheath or sword from scabbard, he prevailedover the lord of that land to give him surety of his adherence to KingAlexander, and a solemn declaration that he would remain true to hisoaths. And then the barks departed for Coll. 

Now young Harald of Islay having warned the people of Colonsay of theapproach of the invaders, bade his men take him at once to the isle ofColl, whither, as it chanced, Earl Sweyn the Silent had gone, and therethe lad told the same tale of how Kenric of Bute was bent upon makingconquest of the isles, yet breathing no word of how King Alexander hadordered the expedition. The men of Coll, thus warned, would not brookthat the ships of Bute should touch at their island, so ere Kenric hadyet arrived at Tiree they got their many galleys together, and joiningwith the forces of Earl Sweyn they stood off behind the little isle ofGunna, ready to make an onslaught upon the squadron that Kenric was leading. 

"It was night, " said Duncan, in telling his story to Allan Redmain --"It was night when we came abreast of the isle of Coll, and we anchoredin the wide bay of Crossapol. When the day's light fell upon the sea mylord Kenric came to me, and, said he, 'Duncan, launch me the longboatwith a dozen men, and come with me, for I will now land upon this islandand seek for the king's castle. ' So thereupon we landed. 

"Not long had we been ashore when from the top of a little hill we saw, above the next bay, the castle that men call Breacacha. And going downto it, we were near to its gates when behold there came out a full twoscore of armed men, and they fell upon us with swords and spears. Fourteen men we were against forty, and we fought for two long hours, until of the men of Bute there were left but three alive, John Campbellof Glen More, my master, and myself. I was sorely wounded in the chestand like to fall down from the loss of blood. Of the men of Coll fiveremained. Twelve of their comrades my lord Kenric had slain with hismighty sword, and with little hurt to himself, saving only that hisbreath had grown weak. 

"But one of our foemen, who was the tallest man my eyes have yet beheld, at last encountered my master. He smote him a sorry cut upon his arm andbore down upon him so that he fell as dead. Another man picked up theThirsty Sword, as I could see, for his own had just been broken. Andknowing what manner of weapon it was, I made a great effort and slew theman who was pressing upon me. Then I met him who now held my lord'ssword in his hands. Scarce had he raised it against me when I snatchedmy dirk from my side and flung it at his throat, caught his hand, and, slaying him, rescued my lord's weapon. 

"By this time John Campbell had fallen under the hands of the otherthree men of Coll, and I alone was left, standing over the body of EarlKenric, to defend it against the three warriors who now remained. But asthey came to assail me I fell down in a swoon beside my lord, and theywist that I was dead. 

"Now when my wits returned to me I felt something move at my side, andthen I saw that Earl Kenric was yet alive, and that he had but fallenfrom want of breath and strength. Two score and nine brave men lay deadupon the heather. In their midst, with their backs towards us, sat thethree men of Coll, resting their limbs after that morning's battle. 

"My lord Kenric looked about him for his sword, not knowing that it waslying under my own frail body. I could neither move nor give it to him, nor could I speak for the fear that the men would turn round and finish us. 

"Earl Kenric boldly rose and went behind the men. Ere he was two yardsfrom them they stood up, and seeing him they spoke. I know not what theysaid, for I understand not the Norse tongue, Master Allan, but the tallman went up to him, leaving his sword upon the heather, and took my lordup in his arms and carried him away. The two others followed. Then was Iin a great agony of despair, thinking they meant to slay him by someterrible torture. And I had not strength to save him. 

"Not far had they gone when in the morning silence I heard the tinklingof a stream near by. Thither I crept and took a draught of its coolwater. So much was my strength renewed by that blessed beverage, that Icould have gone through that battle once again if so be I might saveEarl Kenric's life. 

"I followed the three men to the castle. They had left the bridge downand the gates open. But scarcely had I got within when by the sounds Iheard I knew that they were lowering my master into one of theirdungeons. I heard him cry aloud. 'Ah, had I but my sword!' he cried inour own tongue. And then his voice sounded low down in the depths, andthough I knew he was yet alive and strong, yet I knew also that it wasno easy task to rescue him from that place. 

"Ere I reached the chamber wherein the dungeon opened out, the three menmet me. They had left their weapons outside. Grasping my lord's swordand calling upon Saint Columba, I assailed those three men in such wisethat they soon lay dead at my feet; for they could not pass me. 'Kenric, my lord Kenric!' I cried aloud. And I heard him answer my name. 

"But this uproar of fighting and shouting alarmed the people within thecastle, and thinking full surely that a host of the reserve garrisonwere coming to avenge the death of their comrades slain, coward that Iam, I retreated without the gates, leaving my dear master within. 

"Now it befell, Master Allan, that, as I had slain those three men whoalone knew where my lord had been imprisoned, and as I had not the witto speak with any of those Norse folk, it was little that I could do --"

"You have done well, Duncan, in coming for what aid we now can give, "said Allan Redmain. "But say, how long time is it since my lord was thusmade captive?"

"Five days as I count, " said Duncan, "and had it not been for the thingthat I next discovered he had not been there five hours. When I foundmyself outside the castle and with the bridge drawn up, I hied me overthe hill towards the ships. Alas! they were no longer there in the baywhere we had left them. They were standing out to sea, with seven greatNorse galleys and as many fishing boats pursuing them. "

"Alas!" said Allan; "and whose ships were those?"

"They were three galleys of Coll and four of Colonsay, " said Duncan, "asI learned three days past when they returned to Breacacha. Our own fourships of Bute came not within sight again, and I fear they have goneback to Rothesay. "

"Not so, " said Allan confidently. "Our men would never return withouttruthfully knowing how it had fared with Earl Kenric. But what of thefour galleys of Colonsay?"

"They left for the north two days ago, and the men of Coll went someinto the castle and some to their homes, leaving their ships at anchorin the shelter of the isle of Gunna. "

"And say you that those in the castle know not that our lord is in thedungeon?"

"Even so, for who could tell them? Five days have passed since our fightin Coll. Like a beast of the field have I lived since then, feeding uponthe wild roots and berries, and waiting that our ships might come back. But by good fortune I came across the poor fisherman who brought me overin his boat. He could speak the Gaelic, and with promise of reward Ibade him bring me to the place where Earl Kenric had told me we were torejoin Sir Piers de Currie. Had the man refused me I would have slainhim; but now that he has kept his word, I beg you to give him the rewardthat is his due. "

"That will I do, " said Allan, "for well does he deserve it. A good boatwith oars and sails shall be his reward. "

By the time that Duncan had told his tale, Allan Redmain's two stronggalleys were abreast of the isle of Coll, and steering into a beauteousbay that Duncan had told of, they were rowed far in until they stoodunder the strong-built fortress of Breacacha. 

The garrison had been reinforced by many men from the ships of Coll. Butthe men of Bute were desperate, and they said that though they gavetheir lives, and though they pulled down every stone and timber of whichthat castle was built, they would save their young king. So with theirfriends of Arran they landed in a great body with their machines andbattering engines. Some attacked the raised drawbridge with greatmissile weapons, while their companions picked off with their arrows thearchers who were on the battlements. 

After a two-hours' storming of the gates the men of Bute forced anentrance and rushed within the castle, led by Allan Redmain. Thedefenders took timely refuge in the donjon keep. But Allan sought not tofollow them. With lighted torches he led his men into the dark chambersthat were in the heart of the castle, till at last he found a chamberwhose floor was stained with blood. 

"Methinks, " said he, "that this should be the place wherein Duncan slewhis three foes with the Earl Kenric's sword;" and then he called loudlyupon Kenric. 

Many times he cried out, but no answer came. Then he bade one of his menuncoil a rope that he had brought, and Allan, fastening a lighted torchin his helmet, let himself be lowered into the dungeon whose mouth gapedin the centre of the floor. 

Deep down he went until his feet touched solid ground and he foundhimself in a large cavernous chamber. It was a dismal place. The rockywalls were damp and mouldy; the floor was of hewn stone. There was anodour as of death in the heavy air. 

Holding his torch aloft he peered into the recesses of the dungeon. Atlast his eye rested upon what looked like a human form. He started backin horror as the light fell fuller upon it. Against the wall, croucheddown with his head between his knees, and a few rags of mouldy plaidabout his shoulders, was the grim skeleton of what had once been aliving man. 

Allan drew back the tattered plaid and saw the bare ribs and fleshlessarms. And could it be that the young hope of Bute, Kenric the good, thebrave, the true, had come to this?

Allan bent down. He was about to touch the ghastly thing. Then the awfulsilence of that black tomb was broken by the sound of a low moan. Allanlistened again, but he heard only the drip, drip of water. Then againcame the moaning sound. He turned round and bounded forward. By thelight of his torch, that pierced the darkness, he saw a pale wan face, with hollow cheeks and round, staring, brown eyes. The lips moved. 

"Allan? Allan?" they faintly said. 

And then Kenric raised himself on his elbow. 

"The great God be thanked!" gasped Allan, and he fell upon his knees atKenric's side. 

Kenric spoke not again: he was faint and sore of limb. Allan took offhis plaid and spread it upon the damp, rocky floor. Then he raisedKenric in his arms, and wrapping him in the plaid carried him to thebottom of the shaft where hung the rope. Making a sling of his plaid andsecuring it to the rope he called to his men to draw up the line, and ina few minutes Earl Kenric lay in the upper chamber breathing the fresherair. 

Not long was Allan Redmain in following, and in the space of anotherhour they had carried Kenric on board the /Kraken/ of Bute. 

For six long days and nights no food had passed his lips, and had it notbeen that his frame was of uncommon strength he must have died in thatnoisome cell. For many days afterwards his mind wandered, his eyesstared blankly, his voice failed him, and not until two weeks after hisrescue, when he was back again in the castle of Rothesay, did herecognize anyone. 

Allan Redmain's two galleys were but a few miles outward from the coastof Coll when they fell in with the four galleys of Bute that Kenric andDuncan had left. They had been pursued about the seas by the ships ofSweyn of Colonsay, but having outdistanced him they were now returningto the island to search for their lost leader. Either alive or dead, hemust, they said, be found. Had it not been for Duncan Graham, who alone, of all men, knew where Kenric was imprisoned, all search for him musthave been fruitless. On some day long after he might have beendiscovered, as Allan had found the starved and forgotten prisoner inthat dungeon, a grim and unrecognizable skeleton. 

 CHAPTER XXI. HOW KENRIC MADE HIMSELF STRONG. 

This expedition against the island kings had been attended with smallenough success. Many of the islands had indeed been invaded and some ofthe smaller ones conquered. Several of the kings, wavering betweenservice of two masters, had quietly yielded to the persuasions of KingAlexander's ambassadors. But it must be said that, despite their seemingcompliance, they were ready to turn the other way again with equal ease, or even to evade their duties to either monarch and assume the dignityof independent rulers. In a political sense the result of the expeditionwas a failure, the conquests being incomplete, and the compliance of theless warlike kings being of the very shortest duration. 

The misfortunes that had attended Kenric of Bute and Sir Piers de Curriewere due almost entirely to the bad work of the wild men of Galloway, whose lust for slaughter and pillage, whose wanton plunderings ofchurches and slaying of women and children brought down upon the Scotsthe hatred of the Norsemen in whose lands these depredations had been made. 

It was not long ere the word had travelled far and wide among theWestern Isles that the barbarities committed by the Gallwegians were thework of young Kenric of Bute. It was said that Kenric of Bute alone hadordered the massacre of the children of Colonsay. It was said that hehad wantonly ordered similar atrocities in Jura, in Barra, and indeed inall those isles which the unruly men of Galloway had invaded. UponKenric and his people, therefore, the sons of the vikings swore deadlyvengeance, calling upon their patron saint to aid them. 

The Norsemen of the Western Isles lost little time in sending messengersto Norway, telling how the King of Scots had attempted to force theirallegiance to his crown. 

Hakon, the Norwegian king, was roused to anger. He determined to revengethe injuries offered to his vassals, and at once issued orders for theassembling of a vast fleet and army, whilst he repaired in person to hisgreat seaport of Bergen to make ready for an expedition which should notonly restore his vassals to their lands and rights, but which shouldalso sweep away every kilted Scot from the isles, and convert the greatkingdom of Scotland itself into a dependency of Norway. 

These great preparations for war commenced in the autumn of 1262. It wasnot until eight months afterwards that they were completed. 

When Allan Redmain, with Earl Kenric and Duncan Graham lying ill in hiscabin, rejoined the combined forces of Sir Piers de Currie and the Earlof Ross, he found these two chiefs on the point of separating. The Earlof Ross left the sound of Iona and sailed northward again, while SirPiers, with the eight galleys of Bute and Arran, bent his course southto Colonsay, there to pick up the vessel that Kenric had left in guardover that island. These nine vessels thereupon returned to the Clyde, and Sir Piers made a journey into Scotland to make his report to the King. 

For many weary weeks Kenric remained a helpless invalid in his castle, tended by his gentle mother and by old Janet the nurse. His wounds wereof small account; but the six days spent in the noisome dungeon ofBreacacha had weakened him and given him a fever, which was slow toleave him. His mind was strangely disturbed, and he talked wildly, andat random, fancying he was fighting against countless hosts of pirateNorsemen, and declaring deliriously that his Thirsty Sword would givehim no rest, so great was its lust for blood. And once when AilsaRedmain had come over with Allan from Kilmory, the young king began tolaugh wildly, and to say how he had just been over to Colonsay tomassacre many hundreds of children, and how the good men of Galloway hadtried to stop him, and that for their interference he had thrown themall into dark dungeons, giving each of them a skeleton for a plaything. 

But later, when his reason had returned, Ailsa came more often, and thetwo would sit for hours together, talking of the boats that could beseen from the window sailing on the blue waters of Rothesay Bay, of thedark hills of Loch Striven beyond, and of the trees across in the forestof Toward that were brown and gold in the autumn sunlight. Of all hisnurses, Kenric loved best that Ailsa should thus come to him, for shewas as a very gentle and sweet sister, and never did the Gaelic wordssound so musical as when spoken by her rosy lips; never did sunlightshine more brightly than the light that shone in her beautiful eyes. 

So the weeks went on; the autumn passed into winter, and soon all theland was white with deep snow. 

On a cold wintry day Allan Redmain rode over to Rothesay on his shaggymountain pony. 

"My lord, " said he to Kenric, who was sitting in the great hall with theabbot Godfrey Thurstan, "I have a strange thing to tell of an adventurethat befell me yestereve. "

"Come, then, to the fire, Allan, " said Kenric, "for on these cold days, when one cannot get out and about, a story is ever welcome. What saysyour reverence?"

"Even so, " said the abbot, rising; "and methinks the sound of Allan'syoung voice, whatever his adventure be, will cheer you better than thecroaking of an old man, so I will leave you together, my sons. "

Then the two lads sat side by side before the great fire of pine logs, and each with his arm twined about the neck of one of the deer houndsthat sat beside him. 

"And now, Allan, what is your adventure?"

"Why, 'twas a wolf hunt we had, I and some of our men of Kilmory. Thewolves, as you know, have been numerous in the island since the snow andfrost came. We tracked a goodly pack of them into Glen More, and, running them to a corrie in the hill of Kilbride, we there slew three ofthem with our spears. But there was one dog wolf -- a great gray fellowthat we came upon at the head of the glen. He had a patch of white hairabout his neck, and by that I knew that it was the same that had sofrightened the widow Campbell; and being on my pony, I gave chase. Hedoubled, and ran south, leading me even to Kilmory. There I lost him. But I traced his steps in the snow, and where think you they led me?"

"Nay, how could I know?" said Kenric. 

"Why, to the cottage door of Elspeth Blackfell. 

"There I dismounted, and, pushing open the door, what should I see butthe same wolf lying down at his ease before the fire that burned in themiddle of the room! His long tongue was hanging out, and I could see hisgreat white teeth. At his side was the old woman's black cat. At theother side of the fire sat Elspeth herself, calmly eating of a dish ofbrose. Even as I stood there, the old witch bent down and laid the dishbefore the wolf that he might finish the brose. When I leapt forwardwith spear upraised to slay the wolf, Elspeth stepped in between androughly bade me put away my weapon. 'For, ' said she, 'know you this, Allan Redmain, that he is not as other wolves, and I would not have youharm him by any manner of means;' and so I went away, marvelling much. "

"Well, " said Kenric, "and what make you of this adventure?"

"Why this: that Aasta the wolf maid, who was wont to prowl about in herwolf's guise only at dead of night, has now taken to her fancies bydaytime also. "

"If this be so indeed, " said Kenric thoughtfully, never doubting thatthe explanation was the truth of the matter, "then I would have you bevery careful in your adventures, Allan. Spare that white-breasted wolf;for we know not what strange ill would befall you were you to slay Aastaby mistake. Say naught of this to any man. Duncan Graham, who knows morethan others of Aasta the Fair, shall one day tell us what all thismystery means. "

But for the rest of that winter, no more was heard of the wolf maid'swanderings, either by day or by night, and when the glad springtimecame, there was no more thought of wolves. 

In that springtime Earl Kenric, now well able to get about, busiedhimself upon his farm lands, and did all manner of hard and manly toil, so that by healthy exercise of his limbs he might regain his strength. In the early mornings he would sally out to the fields of Ardbeg, andthere with the ponderous plough of those times, that was drawn by twelveshaggy, long-horned oxen -- each with a wreath of rowan leaves round itsneck as a charm against the spells of witchcraft -- he would plough thestubborn ground for many hours together until the sweat bedewed hisbrow. And from the fields he would perhaps walk over to Ascog to sit inhis seat of assize, and there, with the clods of earth yet upon his feetand his arms yet tingling from their work at the heavy plough, he wouldadminister the simple laws before his people. Also he would often engagewith Duncan his henchman -- now recovered from his wounds -- in theexercise of arms, or with Allan Redmain sail over to Arran to have aday's hunting among the fells. Every morning before he broke fast he waswont to undertake a curious exercise, which was that he took a youngbull calf over his shoulders and carried it to the top of the hill ofBarone; and each day as the calf grew older, so did its weight increase, and the burden become greater to bear. Thus did Kenric make himselfstrong, until, at the end of that summer of 1263, there was no man inall Bute who could excel him in the use of arms or overcome him in featsof bodily exercise. 

Meanwhile, unknown as yet to the people of Bute, King Hakon of Norwayhad been busily preparing his forces for the projected invasion ofScotland. The extent of these preparations soon spread alarm even on thecoasts of England. It was said that an overwhelming fleet of ships hadbent their course against the Scottish islands, and the finaldestination of so vast an armament was conjectured with consternation. 

It was on the 7th of July that the fleet set sail from Herlover. KingHakon commanded in person. His flagship was of great dimensions, havingseven-and-twenty banks of oars. Countless banners, pennons, andgonfalons flaunted in the breeze from the masts and riggings of his manygalleys. The decks were crowded with knights and soldiers, whose armourglittered in the sun. It was the most powerful and splendid armamentthat had ever set out from the fords of Scandinavia, and it bore proudlyaway with a light wind for Shetland and Orkney, where additional forcesenlisted under the Norse banner. 

Bearing down among the Western Isles, levying contribution of men andstores from all the chiefs who owed him tribute, Hakon was joined at theisle of Skye by the forces of Magnus, king of the island of Man. Thecombined fleet now amounted to a hundred and sixty dragon ships, withover twenty thousand fighting men. 

Now, on the ship of King Magnus of Man there was a mighty warrior, whommen called Rudri, and he was the most terrible pirate that ever rovedupon the western seas, and all men feared him. There was not a vic orsound that he had not sailed into, nor an island upon which he had notdrawn his sword. 

He was the one man in all that host who could best instruct the Norseking concerning the invasion. So, taking many ships with him, Rudri wentamong the island earls and compelled them one and all to remember theirduty, and to follow under the banner of their Norse master. Many ofthose who had taken oaths of loyalty before King Alexander's ambassadorsdemurred. But the power of the King of Scots was remote, the vengeanceof piratical warfare was near at hand, and the islanders submitted, agreeing to pay fine of so many hundred head of cattle as punishment fortheir former desertion of Norway. And so, like an avalanche that gathersadded weight as it descends, the invading forces drew rearer and nearerto their goal. 

 CHAPTER XXII. THE TWO SPIES. 

On a certain morning in September, Aasta the Fair sat crouched at thedoor of the little cot wherein she dwelt. She was grinding oats in asmall stone hand mill. Old Elspeth sat within doors spinning. 

Presently Aasta raised her eyes and looked over towards the little isleof Inch Marnock, where on the green knolls some sheep were grazing. Inthe narrow channel that separates Inch Marnock from Bute she saw a tinycoracle with a man on board. The little boat drew to the beach of St. Ninian's Bay, where the man stepped out and began to run. Staggering inhis gait, he fell; then rose again and again fell. Aasta, leaving herwork, ran down towards the man, and when she got near him she saw thathis clothes were torn, and his limbs bleeding from many wounds. He waslying on his back, groaning. She looked into his white face and saw thatit was the face of the man whom Earl Kenric had left in Gigha as hissteward and governor. 

"What means all this, William MacAlpin?" asked Aasta, kneeling by hisside; "and wherefore come you back to Bute thus covered with bleedingwounds?"

The man pointed westward, and with his dying breath said:

"Run you to Castle Rothesay, I beseech you; run and tell my lord Kenricthat the Norsemen with their hosts have landed on Gigha, and havewrested the island from us. They tried to torture me to death, but Iescaped to tell my master of this calamity --"

Then Aasta questioned him; but her words fell upon the ears of the dead;so she arose. 

The swift-footed hart runs not more swiftly than Aasta ran that dayacross Bute. She found Kenric lounging on the little pier and throwingpebbles one by one into the green water. Near him were some fishermenunloading their herring boat. 

"My lord, " said she, scarcely showing by her easy breathing that she hadrun the distance of four miles -- "my lord, I have ill news to tell. "

Kenric looked round at the tall fair maiden. She was radiant with thebeauty of strength. Her long red hair streamed in the breeze, and herrosy cheeks glowed with the healthy blood that coursed under her smoothclear skin. Her eyes were limpid as the summer sky. 

"What news may that be, Aasta?" asked the young king. 

"It is, " said she, "that your isle of Gigha has been invaded andconquered by the Norsemen, and that your kinsman William MacAlpin hasbut now given up his life in telling me the tale. "

Kenric stood in troubled thought, a cloud upon his brow. 

"Where is Lulach?" he presently asked. 

"Over at Inch Marnock, " she said, "and ill with his foot that he hurt inclimbing the rocks two days since. He cannot walk but with pain, or Imight have sent him to you. "

"That is most unfortunate, " said Kenric, "for saving Lulach and myselfthere is none in the island who can speak the Norse tongue. I would havesent him to Gigha to learn the truth of this you tell, and to discoverif there be further danger. "

"You forget, my lord, that it was I who taught Lulach the Norse tongue, "said Aasta. "And cannot I do this mission as well as he? Give me yourbidding, my lord, and though I die in fulfilling it, yet will I deem mylife a small sacrifice if it be that I can serve you. "

Then Kenric's eyes lighted up, and he looked admiringly upon thefearless girl. 

"Aasta, " said he, "I will take your service, and I will even go with youto Gigha this very day. Meet me at St. Ninian's two hours before sunset. Have ready a fishing coracle with some fish, and dress you as a fishermaid. These are my orders. Go. "

At sunset that evening a little boat, paddled by a stalwart young man inthe rough habit of a fisher, was crossing the waters of Loch Fyne. 

He was singing a plaintive Gaelic song, and a fair maid, whose deep redhair was covered by a coarse blue cloak, joined in the wild strain withnotes that were as the sweet song of the night bird of the far south. The youth was Earl Kenric of Bute; the maiden was Aasta the Fair. 

Crossing from Ardlamont Point, they crept up the opposite shores ofKintyre until they came to a wide bay upon whose banks lies the littlefishing village of Tarbert. In the growing darkness Kenric paddled theboat inward to the extreme end of this bay. Had he been in less hurry hemight have reached the isle of Gigha by taking a larger craft andsailing down Kilbrannan Sound and so round the Mull of Kintyre, by theway he had gone with the galleys. But he now adopted a speedier way anda much safer one. The great peninsula of Kintyre, which at the northjoins to Knapdale, forms at Tarbert a narrow isthmus of but a milebroad. Landing at the head of Tarbert Bay, Kenric bade Aasta carry thepaddles and her basket of fish, and himself taking up the little boat inhis two strong arms and raising it upon his back, he thus crossed themile of dry land. The boat was but a light one, built of pine ribs andcovered with hide, and his task was less difficult than it might seem. 

In half-an-hour's time the two had arrived at another sheet of waterwhich is called Loch Tarbert, and here launching the coracle again, theyseated themselves and sailed down the narrow loch. It was now well uponmidnight, and there was no moon; but there was little danger to befeared, unless, indeed, some of the Norse outposts might surprise them. 

Kenric spoke little, for, in truth, he was yet doubtful of hiscompanion, who might, he imagined, at any moment turn herself into theform of a wolf. But Aasta was very calm, and there was small need todoubt her, for Earl Kenric had done her a great service in setting herfree from her thralldom, and she would have given her life for him atany moment. 

When at last they emerged from the loch where it enters the open seathey paused a while by the shore to eat their bread cakes and drink themilk that Aasta had brought. They sat face to face. Once Kenric thoughthe saw the maid's eyes sparkle with a green flash of light and he drewback, though in sooth it was but the reflection of the planet Venus, shining in the clear mirror of her eyes. 

The gentle rippling of the water against the boat alone disturbed thestillness. In that stillness Kenric looked fixedly at Aasta through thedim light. Aasta sank upon her knees, and obeying an impulse that wasupon her she took his hands in her own and touched them with her warm lips. 

Kenric felt a strange thrill of pity for this beautiful girl, so lonelywas she, and so much despised of men, and in that moment he bent downand kissed her head. And at that the maid began to weep, and her hottears fell upon his hands. 

Neither spoke, but each felt that a new bond of sympathy had been formedbetween them. Presently Aasta rose to her seat, and Kenric took hispaddle and drove the boat along into the deeper water. 

Down the west coast of Kintyre they sailed until, out across the sea, they saw the light of a beacon fire shoot up upon the heights of Gigha. Outward then they steered until they came nigh upon the rocky shores ofthat island; and passing many little islets, they sailed between Gighaand the brownie-haunted island of Cara, just as the day was breaking inthe east. 

Here Aasta looked about her with strange bewilderment as though she wereawaking from a dream. Kenric brought the boat inshore and took itthrough the long rock tunnel that he had seen many months before fromthe deck of his galley. The water was calm now and the tide high. 

Aasta looked down into the clear depths where the long tangle of marineplants swayed with the motion of the light current. Upon the rocky bedbelow she saw many ruby-coloured sea anemones, with emerald mosses, andpearly shells, and silver-scaled fish. From the water she looked to thevaulted roof. Her eyes were restless with strange wonderment. 

"My lord, " she said at last, "what place is this that you have broughtme to? And why seem these rocks so familiar to mine eyes? This cleargreen water -- the lofty vault of this cave, where the voice echoes inmerry laughter! 'Tis passing strange! Methinks I must have seen them insome childish dream!"

But Kenric at that moment felt the boat grinding upon a sunken rock, andAasta's question passed his notice. 

Beyond the tunnel they searched for a safe landing place in one of thelittle bays. Aasta pointed to a high cliff that had many cavernshollowed out in its steep front, and she bade him steer into one ofthose caves. Kenric laughed and asked how she thought they could everarrive upon the heights by that way. But when she suddenly put herfinger to her lips, in token that she had heard voices upon the cliff, Kenric obeyed her and took the boat into the yawning cavern. 

When they were far within Aasta said: "Heard you not voices up above us, my lord -- the voices of many men?"

"Even so, " said Kenric. "But methinks it will go ill with us here if webe discovered by some passing boat. We should then be entrapped. "

"Not so, " said she. "Follow me and you shall see that we have chosen abetter point of landing than you could have hoped for. "

And stepping upon the rocks at the far end of the cave she led him up aflight of rocky steps until suddenly they saw the light of day. At oncethey emerged into a wide ravine that clove the cliffs and led upward tothe grassy heights of the island. Then Aasta drew back and held Kenricso that he might go no farther, and she pointed across the ravine wherea dip in the opposite headland revealed a wide and sheltered bay. 

"Look, my lord, " she whispered. 

Kenric saw an unexpected sight, for in the waters of that bay there layat anchor a hundred and fifty ships of war with the falcon flag of KingHakon flying at each masthead. 

The sight of so vast an armament appalled him. How it happened thatthese foreign ships were riding at anchor off his own island was a thingthat passed his comprehension. 

Aasta was the first to break the silence of wonderment. 

"My lord, " said she, "there is more in this than the dying words of yourkinsman William foretold. And right wise were you to bid me put on thisfisher maid's disguise. Give me your dirk, Earl Kenric, lest I meetmisfortune, and I will take my creel of fish and offer it for sale amongthe people. It may be that in speaking with the islanders I shall hearthat which the mere sight of these ships cannot explain. "

Then Kenric returned to the boat, bringing back the basket of fish, which he gave to Aasta together with his dirk. 

"You will trust me, my lord?" she asked. 

Kenric smiled. "To the end, " said he. "But what is your plan, Aasta?"

"That you remain with the boat, my lord, while I journey to the village, wherever it may be found. Not long shall I be, and I beg you not toleave the cave till I return. "

Taking the fish creel over her back she went away. Passing up the ravineand mounting to the heights, she had not gone far when she saw a partyof warriors sitting round a camp fire. She went boldly towards them. 

"So please you, my masters, " she began in the Norse tongue, "I havebrought you some good fresh fish if so be you would buy them from a poorbody. "

"Show us your fish, girl, " said one of the men, rising. Then lookinginto the basket he added, "What want you for them?"

"Four cakes of bread, " said she. 

"Good, " said the warrior. "Let us have them; for with so many mouths tofill all food is welcome. "

Slowly Aasta took out the fish and laid them on the grass. Yet no manspoke. She touched the nearest man on the elbow. 

"Lend me your knife, my master, that I may gut the fish, " said she boldly. 

The man took out his knife, and as he handed it to her she saw his faceand recognized Earl Sweyn of Colonsay. 

One by one she took up the fish and slowly trimmed them on a flat stone, waiting in the hope of hearing the warriors speak. 

"When holds King Hakon his council?" one presently asked of another. 

"Tonight -- on Rudri's return, " was the reply. 

"And where?"

"Why, here on the heath, after sundown, " said another. "'Tis no time fordelay. Bute and Arran have yet to be conquered ere we assail themainland of Scotland. "

"Ay, " said the first speaker, "methinks there will be few Scots left inBute for the next moon to smile upon. Bairns, women, and men, they allare doomed!"

Aasta now began to work quicker -- so quickly that in a very few minutesthe fish were all ready for cooking. Then taking her four bread cakesshe slung the basket over her head and sauntered away. 

Suddenly she was conscious that someone was following her. Raising herwicker basket higher she half turned her head. Through the crevices ofthe basket she saw a youth with long flaxen hair. It was Harald ofIslay. But soon he turned back, thinking no doubt that he had beenmistaken in his recognition of the girl who had helped Allan Redmain torecapture him. 

After an absence of less than two hours Aasta rejoined Kenric and toldhim all she had heard; and for the rest of that day the two remained inhiding, waiting until night should fall. 

At last the dark night came. Kenric and Aasta, the one armed with hisgreat sword, the other with her dirk, crept from their place of hidingand stole across the heath towards the campfire, round which a score ofisland kings were already gathered, awaiting the coming of King Hakon ofNorway. 

Within a hundred yards of the fire Kenric stopped and beckoned Aasta togo round the northern side, while he went the opposite way. This theydid that they might discover by which approach they could best reachwithin hearing distance of the warriors. And they had arranged that theone who found a likely place should give signal to the other by means ofthe lapwing's cry. 

Aasta had not well made the half circle when through the night air sheheard faintly, as it were half a mile away, the cry, "Pee-wit! pee-weet!"

Quickly she returned and followed the way Kenric had gone. Soon shefound herself under a high piece of ground that obscured the firelight. Then nearer to the fire she heard the cry repeated, and she replied withthe same call. She went towards the fire until she saw Kenric standingon the top of a high rock, outlined against the glow of light. She knewhim by his fisher's cloak. She saw him lie down flat and creep nearerand nearer to the edge of the rock. 

Suddenly, between her and Kenric, she saw another figure appear andstealthily follow behind the young king with drawn sword. 

Now Aasta had the faculty of being able to see in the darkness almost aswell as in the daylight, and it took but a hurried glance to prove thathe who followed Earl Kenric was none other than the fair-haired Harald. 

Like the bird whose cry she had but lately imitated she ran along theground, drawing her dirk as she ran, and just at the moment when Haraldof Islay was preparing to smite Kenric a blow that would have killedhim, Aasta threw her hand over the young viking's mouth, dragged himover, and then plunged her dagger into his heart. 

So quickly did this happen that Kenric, intent upon seeing what waspassing around the fire, was quite unconscious that Aasta had saved hislife. And Aasta never afterwards told a living being of the thing thatshe had done. 

Leaving the body of Harald where it had fallen she followed Kenric yetnearer to the brink of the rock, until together they lay so near to theband of Norsemen that they could see their white teeth glisten in thefirelight as they spoke. The fire was built against the rock. Thewarriors sat about it in a half circle. 

Presently the men all rose to their feet to greet the arrival of theNorwegian monarch. Kenric could now see faces that had been hiddenbefore, and amongst them were those of Sweyn of Colonsay, Erland ofJura, and, to his surprise, even the renegade John of Islay. None of theothers did he know; but there were Magnus king of Man, Sigurd king ofLewis, John of Kintyre, and Henry the bishop of Orkney, with many moreof the most trusted of King Hakon's vassals. 

Then came King Hakon himself, the tall, grim-visaged, despotic oldmonarch of the North, who, having reigned for six-and-forty years, hadnow determined to win for himself and his descendants the completedominion over Scotland. 

"And now, oh, noble lords and faithful friends, " said he when they wereall seated, "now that we are assured of the adherence of all these outerisles of Scotland, it remains for us to arrange by what means ourfurther conquests are to be made. Our right trusty and noble Rudri isyet away. But on his great help we may confidently rely in whatsoevercourse we pursue. This alone does he ask, that the invasion of the isleof Bute shall be left entirely in his hands. We do therefore order thatRudri, with five stout ships, shall sail hence in two days' time andinvade that island. Thence, with my lord Magnus of Man, he shall sail upthe Clyde and lay waste whatever lands or castles may come in his path. Meanwhile Earl Margad shall invade Arran with five other ships. As tothe rest, we shall remain in this isle of Gigha and complete ourpreparations for the final conquest of the mainland of Scotland. Say, now, my noble lords, does our plan meet with your favour?"

"It does, your Majesty!" they all replied. 

Then Earl Sweyn the Silent opened his lips and spoke. 

"Methinks, " said he, "that as to the expedition against Bute, those whohave most suffered by the atrocities committed by the young striplinglord of that isle should have the power to fulfil their own vengeanceupon him. And I for one, your Majesty, will not rest content unless I beof those who are to invade his lands. With his own hand young Kenric ofBute slew a full score of the children of Colonsay, and in just revengewould I massacre with my own hands the children of Bute. No child shallescape our swords. We will slay every one, ay, even to the babe at thebreast. We will raze every dwelling to the ground. And even theirchurches and their holy men shall not escape!"

On hearing these words Kenric waited not to learn more. He already knewenough, and his heart beat furiously in dread alarm. For a moment hefelt impelled to take his sword and strike down the man who had lastspoken; but the danger of revealing himself to those warriors was toogreat, and touching Aasta on the arm he drew her away. 

Together they crept back to the ravine, found their difficult way intothe cave, and regaining their boat returned to Bute by the same way thatthey had left it. 

At daybreak on the following morning the fiery cross -- the Highlanders'summons to arms -- was sent round to every dwelling in Bute. AllanRedmain was despatched to Arran to warn Sir Piers de Currie. Otherboatmen were sent on a like errand to Toward, Dunoon, Largs, and allother villages and castles upon the banks of the Clyde, while a specialmessenger was sent into Scotland to warn King Alexander. 

For three days and nights there was not a man in Bute who was notoccupied in some fashion in preparing to meet the expected enemy. 

 CHAPTER XXIII. THE INVASION OF BUTE. 

The awful words that he had heard spoken by Earl Sweyn of Colonsayimpressed Kenric with a terrible fear, and his knowledge of theoverwhelming force of ships and men at the command of the Norse kingassured him that the threatened invasion of Bute was no idle boast. Notfor his own castle of Rothesay did he fear, although he would defend hisfortress to the end. The thought of the terrible vengeance that wasabout to fall upon Bute on account of the bad work of the wild Scots ofGalloway was a matter for far graver consideration. 

On his return from Gigha he passed many hours pacing the great hall ofhis castle, racking his brain to discover a means whereby he mightprotect the lives of the women and children who were under his care. Heremembered how, on the day of his throning, those children had stood atthe verge of the court to receive his blessing and to kiss his hand, andhis heart bled at the thought that any of these little ones should be indanger. 

At last, after much hard thinking, he put on his sword and ordered hispony to be bridled. Then he rode south to the abbey of St. Blane's. Calling to the good abbot he bade him open the chapel and let him enter. There the young king threw himself down before the altar and ferventlyprayed to God for help in his hour of need, asking for the power to savethe children from the wrath of their enemies. And in the quiet of thatholy place God's spirit entered into his heart and he felt strong. 

So when he had finished his prayers the abbot, hearing him, said: "Myson, have faith, and our Father will give you His help. And now, tellme, I beseech you, what means you foresee of saving our people from theswords of our enemies?"

And Kenric said: "Holy father, it is by your help that I hope to do thisthing. This day will I send into your grange all the meal and flour thatnow lie in my granaries at Rothesay, and you shall store it away insecret places. Ere the sun sets this night every woman and bairn nowalive in Bute shall be brought to the abbey, and they shall live here, guarded by a band of our best men-at-arms. "

"But, my son, " objected the abbot, "is not your own castle a farstronger and safer refuge?"

"It may well be that it is stronger, my father, " said Kenric; "but sinceit is the first place that our enemies will make for, 'tis not more safethan the abbey, which would be the last place that Christian men wouldattack. "

"You speak wisely there, " said the father; "but still do I doubt yourwisdom in seeking to gather so many women and children together in onedefenceless place. How will it be if our enemies forget the sanctity ofthis refuge, and discovering our children assail them all in the mass?Better it were, methinks, to let each family remain in their own home, for thus distributed over the island some, if not all, must surely escape. "

"Father, " said Kenric, "it is not without reason that I propose thiscourse, and the two years that I passed under the care of the holybrethren of the abbey gave me some teaching of a practical sort. Wistyou not that under this very chapel there is a strong, large chamber?And wist you not also that connected with that chamber there is a longvault running a full four furlongs underground, even unto the inclosedspace that the men of Bute name the Circle of Penance?"

"Even so, my lord, " said the abbot; "and now do I well understand yourplan. It is in that underground passage that you would have our helplesspeople take refuge. Send me, then, a score of your men to make timelypreparation and I will gladly receive the innocents into my care. Godgrant that we may be able to protect them, even at the cost of our ownlives. "

"Amen, " said Kenric, and then he rode away. Taking the green road thatled westward, he stopped at every farmstead and cottage by the way andthere bade all the women, from the aged crone to the young damsel, repair to the abbey of St. Blane's, taking with them all their children. 

Soon he reached Kilmory Castle, where he had counsel with Sir Oscar andAllan Redmain concerning the protection of their fortress. It wasprobable that the enemy would land upon the western side of the island, but lest they should determine to make their first attack upon Rothesayit was deemed wise that Sir Oscar and Kenric should each defend his owncastle, and that he who first descried the invaders from afar shouldsend word of their approach to his neighbour. 

Being assured that Kilmory was well guarded, and prepared to offer astrong resistance, Kenric asked to see Ailsa Redmain. Ailsa was in thefields. 

"Ailsa, " said he when he had found her, "you have heard of the greatdanger that threatens our island?"

"Who is there in all Bute that hath not already heard it, my lord?" saidshe. "Ah, would that I were a man that I might be of some service atthis time!"

"It needs not that you should be a man, Ailsa, to be of very greatservice, and I will ask your help. You are no longer a child, and welldo I know what wisdom there is in you. I would trust you in all thingsto act wisely. "

Then dismounting and standing at her side he told her how the women andchildren were to be taken to St. Blane's. 

"The Norsemen may arrive, " he said, "even before another day be gone, and passing up Kilbrannan Sound they will doubtless make landing nearyour father's castle, where it were most unwise in you to remain. Go, therefore, to the abbey and make what womanly preparations may beneedful. There will my mother join you. With her and you do I intrustthe children of Bute, so that you may minister to their comforts untilthe danger be past. You shall not lack help, but 'tis well that there besome womanly authority whose word may be held as law in case of need. And now, Ailsa, since it may be that we shall never meet again in thisworld, fare you well!"

Then as he was about to remount he saw the tears gather in the girl'seyes, and he put his arms about her neck and drew her to him. 

"Ailsa, " he murmured, "never till this moment did I know how dear youare to me! But now when death faces me -- when another day may see meslain -- the thought of you, my playmate, my dear friend, my lovedAilsa, makes life on earth more precious. God watch between us in ourdanger. The holy Mother protect you, and on earth or in Heaven grantthat we may meet again!"

Then holding her near him he touched her white brow with his lips andleft her sadly. 

Passing across the meadows of Kilmory he found Lulach the herd boy. Lulach was in great terror at knowing that the Norsemen were expected, for though he was himself by blood and nature a Norseman, and was wontto speak their tongue rather than the Gaelic, yet he looked upon theScots as his friends and upon every Norseman as his enemy. He was nottrained in the use of warlike weapons, and it seemed to Kenric that hewould be of little use. But Kenric stationed him upon the heights andbade him keep constant watch upon the sea, ready to sound the alarm onthe enemy's approach. 

Night and day did the lad stand upon those heights overlookingKilbrannan Sound, and on the third day he saw appearing a squadron ofsix ships with many gay flags flying and the armour of countlesswarriors glinting in the sunlight. The largest of the galleys sailed inadvance, bearing the viking's flag, and having an array of knights andsoldiers upon her decks and many archers at her prow. 

Lulach ran in terror to Kilmory Castle, and straightway Sir OscarRedmain prepared to meet the coming foe. 

Lulach was then to have hastened to St. Blane's; but he thought he hadyet time to run down and warn old Elspeth Blackfell, who had steadfastlyrefused to take the protection offered her in the chapel vaults, sayingthat she had a safe refuge of her own -- though where that refuge wasnone sought to know. Lulach followed her down to the little point ofland that juts out into St. Ninian's Bay. 

Now it chanced that it was in that same bay that the invaders landed, and before Lulach could escape, the first ship was close upon the shore. 

The first man to spring into the water and wade to land was the greatpirate Rudri. Seeing Elspeth standing near, leaning upon her long staff, he accosted her. 

"What, ho! thou witch of Satan!" he cried in thundering voice. "Speak, crone, your life is yours if you but tell me truly, by your sooth, thething that I shall ask. "

"Thou godless man, stand back!" cried Elspeth, seeing him draw his swordas though to slay her. 

"Nay, tell me of your sooth -- for I do believe you are a very witch --tell me, what shall the issue of this invasion be? Speak, thou vile hag!lest I release your black soul over soon!"

Elspeth stretched out her shrivelled arms and dropped her staff. Thenshe turned to the pirate and answered him. Her voice came hard andshrill from between her withered lips. 

"Since thou wouldst know, " she said, "the things that shall be, hearthis, oh Rudri, that he shall be defeated upon whose side the firstblood drop is spilled!"

A heavy silence fell after her words. It was broken by a loud laugh fromthe pirate's deep throat. 

"Be it as thou wilt, " he cried. 

But Elspeth in that moment snatched a dagger from her girdle, andgathering her strength she made a lunge with it at the man's broadchest. The weapon turned upon the strong armour that he wore, and, unhurt, he caught her by the wrist, raising his sword. 

Now Elspeth had spoken in the Danish, and the chieftain, remembering herwords of prophecy, and, it may be, thinking that she was of the Norsefolk, lowered his weapon and flung the old woman away from him. Thenseeing Lulach limping away, and taking him to be a Scot, he ran afterthe lad, eager that the first blood should be that of one born in Bute. Catching Lulach by the long hair he speedily slew him. 

"'Tis done!" said Rudri when he saw that the lad was dead. "And now havewe forestalled our enemies and assured to ourselves the victory. 

"On, on, my men!" he cried, turning to his followers. "The first bloodof our enemies hath been spilled! On! on! the victory is sure!"

One by one the ships dropped anchor in the bay, and from each therepoured a vast number of warriors carrying bows and battle-axes, swordsand spears. Behind their leaders, the terrible Rudri and the king ofMan, they marched upward to the castle of Kilmory. 

"Spare not!" cried Rudri, flourishing his sword. 

"Death to the traitor of Bute, the slayer of our children!" cried Sweynof Colonsay. 

"On, on, men of Jura!" croaked Erland the Old. 

"Down with the Scots!" thundered Magnus of Man. 

From the topmost towers of his castle Sir Oscar Redmain watched thehosts advance. Nearer and yet nearer they came. 

"Steady, my lads, and take good aim, " he said coolly as he fixed anarrow to his bowstring. "Now!" he cried, and as the enemy came withinbow shot a shower of well-aimed arrows met them, and many men fell. Theshields of their companions bristled with the arrows whose flight theyhad stopped. But the long-haired warriors pressed on to the castlegates, behind which stood Allan Redmain with half the garrison at his back. 

From the hilltop of Barone, Aasta the Fair had watched the shipsapproaching from afar, and at the moment of first seeing them sheclashed a flint and steel and promptly lighted a bundle of dry twigs andstraw. The signal fire was seen from Rothesay, and at once Earl Kenric, at the head of five score of men, marched across the island towardsKilmory. But so quickly had the invaders landed, so speedily had theystormed the stronghold, that ere Kenric and his followers appeared uponthe heights, the castle of Kilmory was in flames. 

The Norsemen, taking their machines to the rear, had stormed thebuilding at its weakest point. The heavy missiles from their shot wagonssoon succeeded in making a breach. Then a detachment of Rudri's menbrought sheaves of new-cut corn and bundles of hay from the stackyard, and flinging them within the breach set them in flames. The stout wallsof oak very soon caught fire, and Sir Oscar Redmain and his archers onthe towers speedily found themselves inclosed in clouds of smoke. Theircries as they ran down the inner stairs and discovered the awful fatethat awaited them were terrible to hear. 

From the rear of the castle the Norsemen brought round their machines tothe gates, and with their heavy battering rams they burst in the strongdoors. Some of Allan Redmain's men rushed out, only to be cut down bythe warriors who awaited them. Twice did Allan call to his guards tofollow him and cut their way through the barrier of swords and spears, and twice were they driven back into the burning castle. A third attemptwas made. Allan valiantly encountered his foes, who now gave way, for atthat moment they were attacked in their rear by the men of Rothesay. 

In the ranks of the Norsemen, Kenric espied Earl Sweyn of Colonsay. 

"Traitor! slayer of my people's children!" cried Sweyn, pressingforward. "Let me at you that I may smite you to the earth!"

Kenric stood on guard. Sweyn raised his heavy battle-axe; but, before hecould strike, Kenric so wounded him on the shoulder that he dropped hisweapon. Then a crowd of men pressing in between, separated them. 

For an hour's time the skirmish continued, Kenric and Allan Redmainfighting side by side. But meanwhile the Norse leader, Rudri, had calledoff the larger number of his men to the ships, leaving but a few scorebehind under Sweyn of Colonsay and another. 

In the thick of the fight Duncan Graham sought his master's side. 

"Back, back, my lord!" he cried, "Back to the castle of Rothesay! Theships have already left the bay. In two hours' time they will be roundat Rothesay!"

Kenric then rallied his men and charged his foes most vigorously, andthose who were not cut down took to flight. Earl Sweyn, retreatingtowards the hill of Quien with two score of his followers took ambushuntil the men of Rothesay had left Kilmory. Then, full of angryvengeance and intent upon slaughter, he led his small troop northward. Every cottage and farmstead that he could find he entered. But not inone of them did he discover man, woman, or child. The men were all underarms. The women and children were all in the safe refuge of the vaultsof St. Blane's. 

Allan Redmain, finding that it was vain to attempt to save his father'scastle, remained for a time upon the scene of ruin and devastation. Hisfather, Sir Oscar, had been slain by an arrow, and his body was devouredby the flames. When Allan had tended the wounded, both foes and friends, he took six of his best men-at-arms with him, and by devious waysmarched south to St. Blane's, there to remain on guard with threehundred others, whom Kenric had stationed at various points in thevicinity of the abbey. 

 CHAPTER XXIV. THE SIEGE OF ROTHESAY CASTLE. 

With the loss of twelve men slain and twenty wounded in the skirmish atKilmory, Kenric returned to his castle, and there completed hispreparations to resist the invaders. He had drawn off his ships. Threeof them were anchored in Dunagoil Bay, with many fishermen andhusbandmen -- untrained in battle -- ready at hand in case Allan Redmainrequired them. A thousand men-at-arms were within the castle, while aband of the best archers were stationed on the battlements. Along theshoreline from Rothesay to Ardbeg five hundred archers were in ambush, and beyond Ardbeg, in the bay of Kames, lay four galleys of war, wellequipped -- ready to dash out upon the enemy as they passed, and, ifpossible, frustrate the landing of their forces. 

The castle of Rothesay was so situated that it commanded a long view ofthe waters through which the enemy's ships must approach from the northof the island. The fortress, which was constructed of stone, had beenbuilt in the year 1098 by Magnus Barelegs, king of Norway, who lived inBute for three years. It was a circular building, 150 feet in diameter. The walls were nine feet thick and forty feet high, flanked by fourround towers. As a fortification it was ill designed, even upon ancientprinciples. Though stronger than any other in all the Western Isles, ithad neither moat nor drawbridge. Even the gate, though it was of strongoak, lined with iron bars, was ill protected. It was neither flanked normachicolated, and it might have been mined or assaulted at any point. The enemy could approach under the walls without fear of being annoyedby showers of boiling lead or tar, and, if they kept close in, neithercould arrows reach them with any certain aim. 

But on the castle's heights there had been collected many tons weight ofmissile weapons, with machines for throwing them. One of these machineswas a Norse skotvagn or shooting truck. It was made like a wagon, mounted on a pair of wheels. At its back end was a long shaft with anopen box at its extremity. This box had to be loaded with heavy stones. Fixed to the axle of the wagon were two chains, one at either side, sostrong as to be able to suddenly check and hold the carriage when it wasrunning full tilt down a planked incline. As soon as the chains arrestedits race, it would shoot out its load on those below. It was always bestto load it with stones of different sizes. 

Kenric was engaged in giving a last attention to this shot truck, when, from the heights of the battlements, he saw the figure of Aasta the Fairrunning towards the castle from the northward. It vexed him much to seethe wild girl thus exposed to the dangers that might soon overtake her, and he bade Dovenald, the old bard, go down and unfasten the posternthat she might enter. Duncan Graham had already been sent south to theabbey. 

"How happens it, Aasta, that you went not to St. Blane's as you wereadvised?" Kenric asked, when he met her in one of the lower corridors. 

"My lord, " said she, "I went but to the hill of Kilbride to watch theships in their passage through the Kyles, and I judge that they will behere in the space of another hour. As I came backward through Glen MoreI saw a band of men with Sweyn of Colonsay ravaging the farmsteads andsetting them in flames. Twelve cottages did I pass that had been razedto the ground. The saints be praised, all our people are safe! But oh, my lord, Lulach, Lulach is slain! He was the first to fall. "

"Lulach?"

"Yes, and more. Know ye who slew him? It was even the man of whom weheard speech in Gigha, Rudri the Rover. "

"Since Lulach is dead, what boots it who slew him, Aasta? 'Tis but themisfortune of war, " said Kenric, turning away. 

"Wait, my lord, " said she, holding him back. "Methinks you do not knowthis Rudri. But Elspeth Blackfell took little time to discover thatmuch. The man Rudri is none other than he who so basely slew your fatherand overcame my lord Alpin in combat. Rudri the Rover is none other thanRoderic MacAlpin!"

Kenric drew back amazed. "Roderic MacAlpin!" he exclaimed. "The saintsprotect us! Ah, simpleton that I have been to have faith that thatvillain ever meant to keep to his vows! And this is how he went on thepilgrimage! and all these months, while we have fondly believed that hewas serving the Cross, he has but been serving his own ambitious ends!It was he, then, who led the Norsemen to Gigha! It was he who besoughtKing Hakon to let him make the invasion of Bute, that he might murderour children and lay waste our lands -- that he might claim the dominionhe covets! But by my father's soul he shall yet fail!"

Then Kenric unsheathed his sword, and solemnly swore upon the cross ofits hilt that never should that weapon leave him until either himself orRoderic the Outlaw lay dead. 

The story of Roderic since the time of his quitting the isle of Bute maysoon be told. 

Scarce had he passed the rock of Ailsa Craig ere he had resolved tobreak his vows of penance and go his own chosen ways. Sailing southwardin the English salt ship, he was still upon familiar waters. He layquiet for three days, recovering from his wounds; then, when the vesselwas abreast of the Isle of Man, he forcibly took the helm, and drawinghis sword, threatened the life of any man who dared approach him, and hesteered the ship into the haven of Peeltown. There he landed among thedescendants of the Norse King Orry, and seeking out his friend Magnus, who was the lord and monarch of that land, with him he lived for manymonths, until on a time there came a message from Hakon of Norway, bidding King Magnus set forth with his ships of war to the WesternIsles. When the Manx ships joined Hakon's navy at Skye, Roderic theRover was welcomed above all other chiefs, and he offered that the isleof Gigha should be made the headquarters of the forces, from which theymight easily swoop down upon Bute and Arran, and thence invade themainland of Scotland. 

"Methinks, my lord, " said old Dovenald, as he stood with Kenric andAasta, "that this outlaw will not now be satisfied until he bathcompassed your death. Forget not, I implore you, that you alone standbetween him and his ambitions. It would go ill with us all if he shouldsucceed, and methinks 'twere well that you took timely refuge where hecould not find you. "

"My lord, " said Aasta, "what Dovenald says is but wisdom; and now, ifyou would take safe hiding, I know of a little cave above the shores ofAscog Bay wherein you might be secure from all discovery. "

"What? and would you counsel me to shrink from meeting this man? No, no, my friends. I am no craven, and it is not thus that I will desert mypost. Here do I stand to defend our stronghold; and while I have a dropof blood in my body so long will I fight. "

Soon from the battlements the six ships of Roderic were seen emergingfrom the Kyles of Bute, and as they passed Ardmaleish Point, the fourgalleys of Rothesay dashed out from the bay of Kames, and encounteredthe enemy. They met him with a rain of well-aimed arrows and showers ofmissiles. The two ships of Roderic and King Magnus shot ahead, leavingtheir four consorts behind to engage broadside to broadside with thevessels of Bute, and there followed a terrible sea fight hand to hand --Scots broadsword against Norse battle-axe -- that lasted many hours, until the vessels of both sides, much damaged, and with the loss of fourscore of men and more, found themselves drifted into Rothesay Bay. 

From the towers, as he watched the opening of the fight, Earl Kenricespied a band of men marching upon Rothesay from the northward. Theywere the men of Colonsay, led by Earl Sweyn, who had been reinforced byfifty men from the ships. It was this band whom Aasta had seen settingthe deserted homesteads in flames. Sweyn was now bending his course uponRothesay village. 

But, as he came within bow shot, Kenric and his archers were ready. Kenric took careful aim and bent his bow as he had never bent it before. Swiftly the arrow sped with whizzing noise, and it curved in its flight, dropping lower and lower until it dived deep into the bare throat of theEarl of Colonsay. As Sweyn fell, his men saw that the dart had piercedthrough his neck even to the back of his collarbone, and, enraged at theloss of their master, they ran yet farther. But one by one theystaggered and fell, each with an arrow quivering in his broad chest, andthose who remained alive took flight beyond range. 

And now Kenric turned to watch the ships of Magnus and Roderic, which, with the galley of John of Islay in their wake, were now well within thebay. Driven by their long-sweeping oars, they crept shoreward untiltheir peaked bows grounded in the shallows. The warriors then swarmedover the bulwarks and dropped into the water, wading breast deep to thebeach. Kenric's bowmen from the battlements and from the rising groundabove the shore began to assail the bold invaders. But, little daunted, the Norsemen landed in great numbers, taking ashore their besiegingengines and various instruments of war. 

Then might be seen stones, arrows, quarrels, and other missiles to flyamong them, and so effectively did those within the castle exchangetheir tokens with those without that in one short hour there were manyscores of persons wounded, and I know not how many killed. The heaviestof the besieging engines were worked in throwing massive stones, whichcould be got in plenty and of every size upon the shingly beach. Andwhen there was a good hit, a great shout arose among the invading host. Many shot wagons and three other machines were brought by the enemy --very large, of great power, and very destructive -- which might bethought to cut down and crush whatever their missiles struck. But thewalls of Rothesay Castle were strong and thick, and the stones thatstruck them only shivered into a thousand fragments. 

Many a well-directed arrow did he of Rothesay receive, but he placedbefore him his great white shield with a red cross engrailed. With hishead protected by a strong brass helm, and his chest with a well-wroughtcoat of mail, he escaped all hurt. Nor did he lose courage, but cheeredhis men lustily as though it were but a boy's game he was playing. Butever he kept his watchful eye upon the Norsemen, eager to pick out thetall figure of his uncle and dreaded foe Roderic. Not once but manytimes did he see him standing with a dozen of his companions directingthe siege. 

Kenric many times took up his longbow and sent his arrow shafts swiftlytowards the heart of his enemy. Roderic was clothed in complete armour, and though many of his nephew's arrows struck him, yet they but brokeupon his breastplate and fell shivered to his feet. 

For four long hours the battle continued, and at Kenric's side manybrave men lay dead. On the plain before the castle seven score ofNorsemen lay slain. Then, as the sun went down, and the evening cloudsbrought heavy rain, the enemy retired to their ships. By this time thethree vessels that had been engaged with the ships of Bute were drawnalongside their consorts, and Kenric's four galleys had sailed out tosea, so that in the cover of darkness they might approach under theabbey of St. Blane's, and give ready succour should the enemy discoverthe retreat of the women and children. 

Early in the morning the whole of Roderic's forces landed, and now theystormed the castle gates with all their strength. So stoutly did theyassail them with their powerful battering rams that in the space of anhour the doors fell in with a loud crash. 

In the wide hall stood Kenric with his sword in hand. Behind him wereranked a good three hundred fighting men. In their midst was the maidAasta the Fair, wearing, as all the men wore, a coat of mail and a brassheadpiece. In firm ranks they all stood with pikes and spears aslant tomeet the inrush of valiant Norsemen. 

The first man whom Kenric encountered was Erland the Old of Jura. Enraged to see this man, who had taken hospitality in the castle, nowhelping to storm it, he fought with his full strength and felled himwith one blow. Cutting his way through the ranks of his foes he at lastreached the fallen gates. But nothing did he yet see of Roderic. Manymen did he kill, for none could stand against the terrible onslaught ofhis great sword. And ever at his side, fighting with fearless courage, was Aasta the Fair, and of the foemen a full half dozen did she slaywith her sword, for she was most powerful of arm and feared not thesight of blood. 

Well might Kenric seek in vain for the towering helm of Roderic. Foreven as the gates gave way that warrior, with Magnus of Man, had takenoff a body of their Manxmen to the west postern. This little door, which, as Roderic well knew, was the weakest point in all the castle, they assailed with their ponderous battle-axes, and never did smith withhis hammer strike his iron as Roderic struck there. 

While Kenric and his chosen men-at-arms were fighting against those whowere pressing in by the main gates, Roderic thus gained an entrance intothe castle. He slew with his own hand a full score of the garrison andpassed over their dead bodies up the stone stairs. In a little timethereafter he stood upon the battlements, where Dovenald and hiscompanions of the bow were showering their arrows upon the invaderswithout the walls. There, cutting down old Dovenald in a most cruelfashion, Roderic tore down the honoured red lion of Scotland and hoistedin its stead the blue and white falcon of the Norseman. This done, hereturned with his many followers to the hall and charged upon the men ofRothesay in their rear. 

Kenric, placed thus between two strong companies of his enemies, wastaken at a sore disadvantage. He felt that the men about him werefalling on every side. Soon those without the gates gave way, and themen of Bute were fairly driven out of the castle at the spear's point. Then Kenric and a few of his bodyguard, not knowing what had happened, and believing that the stronghold was still in the hands of their owngarrison, pursued the retreating Norsemen to the ships. On the beach avigorous engagement took place. 

The Norsemen scrambled on board from one vessel to its companionsalongside. Kenric, followed by Aasta and a crowd of their Scots, wadeddeep into the water, still pressing behind the men of Jura and Islay. They even climbed upon the first galleys' decks, and there stoodfighting for many minutes. 

In the midst of this battling Kenric observed the viking's flag flyingabove the battlements. He called his men off the ships, and as theyreturned to the castle Roderic and some of his warriors passed round bythe rear of the building and regained their vessels. The galleys werethen pushed off into the deeper water, and not till they were afloat didKenric realize that he had not for some minutes seen the brave girlAasta. In truth, the maiden was at that time struggling on board one ofthe galleys with Roderic the Outlaw, who soon disarmed her and thrusther as a captive into the cabin of one of his ships. 

Kenric returned to his castle, only to find that it had fallen entirelyinto the hands of the enemy, who had put the remainder of the garrisonto the sword. 

Utterly defeated, but himself scarcely wounded, the young lord of Buterallied what men he could and drew them off to the high ground whereRoderic had stood. The arrows of a few Norsemen from the battlementspursued him, and seeing that there was now no chance of regainingpossession of his stronghold, he could only think of the safety of hispeople and try to protect them from the ravages of the victors. Thevillagers of Rothesay had already deserted their homes, which so far hadremained unmolested, though sadly battered about by stray stones andother missiles. 

And now did Kenric fully see the wisdom of what he had done in securinghis helpless islanders under the safe keeping of the abbot of St. Blane's. Had he advised them to take refuge in the castle they wouldassuredly have fallen victims to the wanton swords of their enemies. Hadhe failed to act with prompt foresight upon the information gained inGigha, the men of Colonsay, with other vengeful warriors, would havemassacred every woman and child in the island, for such was assuredlytheir intent. Happily they had found every dwelling unoccupied, with itsmore valued contents safely removed; and though they had indeed broughtmany of those homesteads to the ground, yet the lives of the inhabitantswere still secure. 

It now remained for Kenric to assure himself that no prowling Norsemanshould by chance discover the place of refuge of those who had so timelyabandoned their homes; and to this end he bade his remaining followersmake pretence of taking shelter in the forest of Barone, whence theymight move unobserved by the enemy to the south of the island and soguard the abbey of St. Blane's. 

 CHAPTER XXV. THE GREAT NORSE INVASION. 

It were vain to look for good generalship in a time so remote as that ofthe reign of Alexander III. Wallace and Bruce had not yet appeared toteach the Scots the advantage of united action, and the methods ofwarfare were still of an unmilitary kind. Battles were little betterthan mere free fights, without order, without controlling discipline, without preconcerted plan. It may be that Kenric of Bute might, with alittle more forethought in the disposal of his forces, have saved hiscastle from the hands of his enemies. But a lad of seventeen, with nobetter counsellors than a few peaceful men such as Sir Oscar Redmain andthe Abbot Thurstan -- men inexperienced in the arts of war, and illqualified to repel an invader or hold a castle against a siege -- whatcould he do? Sir Oscar Redmain was killed in the first engagement. Theabbot was sufficiently occupied with the protection of his church lands, and the one skilful soldier who could have organized the defences -- SirPiers de Currie -- was even now defending his own castle of Ranzaagainst the forces of Margad. 

Nevertheless, the manner in which Kenric defended the sacred buildingsof St. Blane's redeemed the mistakes he had committed in a too greatdivision of his forces at Rothesay. He protected the abbey lands from apossible approach of the enemy from the sea by stationing six of hisships, fully manned, at regular intervals along the south coast of theisland from Glencallum Bay to the bay of Dunagoil. Thus disposed, thevessels formed a half-circle round the abbey and its demesnes. AtDunagoil he stationed a guard of five hundred men under Allan Redmain, with a like number in Glencallum, under Duncan Graham, ready at amoment's warning to form a connection across the neck of land. Withinthe walled inclosure known as the Circle of Penance, standing midwaybetween these two stations, were two hundred other men under Kenrichimself. Thus the abbey and its grange with some forty cottages wereentirely surrounded. 

The abbey with its chapel was a small building in the Norman style, inclosed by a high wall, and standing in a grove of birch and ash trees. In the crypt of the chapel and within the cottages the women of Bute, some hundreds in number, had made their retreat, and the Lady Adela ofRothesay had a most anxious four days attending to her numerous charges. Food there was in plenty, of a simple sort, and the wells within theabbey buildings provided abundance of pure water. 

In the underground passage connecting the crypt with the walledinclosure of the Circle of Penance the children had been collected. Ailsa Redmain was with them, attending to their many wants, helped bysome of the women. 

All this had been Kenric's doing, and to him would be due the praise andthe thanks of the people of Bute if his plan of defence should succeed. But Kenric was not at his ease, for he knew that should the Norsemen setaside thoughts of the sanctity of the place and make a successfuldescent upon the abbey, then surely the women and children would bediscovered and an appalling massacre might follow. Little cared he forthe loss of his castle and lands; little thought he of the value of hisown young life. His one purpose was to make a strong defence and to savehis people, for whose sakes there was nothing he would not dare to do. 

And now his most earnest wish was to know whether the enemy would maketheir attack by sea or by land. He was equally prepared for either course. 

It was wearing towards sundown, and yet there were no signs. The castleof Rothesay had been taken before noon. Where now were the enemy?

At last Elspeth Blackfell came to Kenric, who stood with the abbotwithin the thick walls of the inclosure. 

"My lord, " said she, "I hear the tread of many feet. It is by land theycome. Oh, that I knew where my sweet Aasta hath gone, and if she bestill in life!"

"Father, " said Kenric to the abbot, "will you now do as I propose?"

"What would you, my son?" asked the abbot. 

"It is that you would now go without these walls and boldly face ourenemies, holding before you the crucifix. If Roderic be their leader, itmay be that the sight of you will move him to a sense of the holiness ofthis place, and haply you may by your arguments turn him aside from hispurpose. Were I to show myself -- though, indeed, I would willingly facethat man and fight with him to the death -- he would be moved to wrath, and, slaying me, he would not rest any the more in his designs. "

"I will adventure it, my son, " said the abbot solemnly. 

"God be with you, holy father, " added Kenric, crossing himself. 

"My lord, " said Elspeth, "think you that Godfrey Thurstan can have powerto move Roderic in this wise? How was it when he bade this man go uponthe pilgrimage of penance? Did Roderic then obey his holy words? Not so. But there is one whose words Roderic MacAlpin will indeed take to heart, and that is your servant Elspeth. Let me then go, my lord. Open thegates that I may go forth and face this outlaw and his followers. And ifit be that he turn not back, then may the massacre of our children restupon my head. 

"Come, my lord abbot, let us then go together. "

Then some men removed the heavy stones from the gate and the abbot andhis aged companion went forth to meet the advancing forces. 

Now as Roderic, at the head of his army, marched upon St. Blane's hecould see nothing of the defences that had been prepared. All was inappearance peaceful as it had been when as an innocent boy this piratechief had gone in the early mornings to say mass with the good friars. Above the abbey the swallows lightly flew. The blue hills of Arran werecalm and grand. The seagulls floated in mid-air above the sea, and theautumn trees waved their golden clusters in the breeze. From thechimneys of the abbey a thin film of smoke told only of peace. 

There was nothing to show that within the small space between him andGarroch Head were collected together many hundreds of islanders withanxiously beating hearts -- islanders whose happy homes had been laidwaste, and who now dreaded the moment that might bring their death. Twofigures alone could Roderic see. These were the abbot Godfrey and theold crone Elspeth Blackfell. 

As the Norsemen advanced with clashing arms and regular tread the abbotlooked up in seeming surprise, as though his meditations had beensuddenly disturbed. Then he paused in his walk and turned to meet thedreaded foe. Elspeth followed him. 

With loud voice Roderic called out to his men to halt. Then alone hewent forward. 

"What means all this that I see?" began the abbot with trembling voice, "and how comes it, Roderic MacAlpin, that I behold you here in Bute withall this strange following? Infamous man! Did you not but twelve shortmonths ago solemnly swear before God that you would not set foot uponthese shores again ere you had spent three years of penance in theservice of the Most High. How come you here?"

Then Roderic smiled in derision. 

"How came I here? And wherefore should I come if not to claim mine own?Wherefore should I come if not to destroy the young cub Kenric, who hathcruelly murdered many scores of innocent dwellers in the isles. Mine ownhave I already regained, for I have planted my banner upon the towers ofRothesay, and no man on earth shall now rob me of what I have so hardlyconquered. Two other things remain; and then I go to make furtherconquests for my sovereign king. I shall have young Kenric's blood, andI shall have my full revenge for the injuries he has done to the peopleof Colonsay. And now, my father, you will go down upon your knees beforeme -- for I am now your lord and king and will be obeyed -- and youshall tell me truly where this young whelp Kenric is to be found, that Imay slay him. "

"Earl Kenric of Bute shall never be slain by you, Roderic MacAlpin, "said Elspeth. "For though you follow him over half the world, as youfollowed Rapp the Icelander, yet shall you never draw one drop of bloodfrom that brave youth's body!"

"And who shall stay me?" cried Roderic. "By the mass, but you speak boldwords, Dame Elspeth!"

"I will stay you!" cried Elspeth. "Your right arm shall wither, youreyes shall grow blind, your life's blood shall turn to gall ere youtouch a hair of Earl Kenric's head! Return whence you came, bold outlaw. Go, ere it be too late. Overmuch injury have you already done in thisland of your fathers. And do you hope to rule in Bute -- do you believethat there is one man in all this land who would accept you as his lordand master, and who would pay homage to you, after the ills you havedone? Vain fool! be satisfied. Turn back to your ships and ask of Heaventhe forgiveness which no man on earth will now accord you! Go, RodericMacAlpin!"

"Miserable hag!" cried Roderic grasping his sword. "And think you that Iwould lead my brave men away ere they have had their full revenge uponthis stripling? No, no! Listen now, how they cry for his blood! Hear howthey cry out for the children whom you have spirited away! ElspethBlackfell, you know where those children are hidden, and by Saint Olafyou shall now tell me where they are, or I will drive my blade into yourshrivelled carcase. Tell me, I say!"

"My lord Roderic, " said Elspeth, looking at him with glittering eyes, "you have lost your own two children. Do you still remember them? Do youstill remember their rosy cheeks, their sweet blue eyes, their goldenhair? Do you still hear the music of their laughter as they played amongthe pebbles on the beach? Ah, it was a sad, sad day for you when theywere taken from you, my lord. "

"A sad day indeed, Elspeth, " echoed the sea rover, mechanicallysheathing his sword, and speaking in an altered voice that had a touchof tenderness in it. 

"And yet, " added Elspeth, "there lives in Cowall one who might tell youwhat became of your little ones. "

"What? You tell me this! Who is that man?"

"On one condition shall you know, " said Elspeth. "Take your men awayfrom Bute, and no more seek to learn whither our women and children aregone. "

"Agreed, " said Roderic; "for, believe me, 'tis no wish of mine that thepeople of my own lands should suffer. Tell me, who is this man?"

"When your followers are in their ships, " said Elspeth, "when you aretaking up your anchors, then will I tell you, Lord Roderic. And if youkeep your word and leave us for a time in peace, most assuredly youshall yet learn more. "

Now Roderic, who was a man of iron, had yet one soft place in his heart, and that was ever touched when he thought of his lost children. Doubtless Elspeth knew all this, and whether it was true or false thatshe could give him the word he wished, she at least succeeded in turninghim away from St. Blane's, and Kenric, half-wishing to take his swordand slay him where he stood, peeped above the wall where he and his menwere intrenched and saw the pirate chief go up to his men and order themto turn back to Rothesay. 

In another hour thereafter, Roderic, having left the castle in charge ofone of his captains and a full garrison of men, entered his ship andwith his other galleys sailed away on his expedition of plunder on thebanks of the Clyde. 

Being joined by other ships from Kintyre, Islay, and Jura, together withthe forces of Margad who had invaded and conquered the isle of Arran, his armament now numbered sixty galleys. They took the castles of Dunoonand Roseneath, and laid waste many villages and farmsteads. Fartherstill they went, up the waters of Loch Long, devastating the lands oneither side. At the head of Loch Long they took their smaller ships andmounting them on rollers made of the trunks of larch trees, they draggedthe vessels bodily over the neck of land that lies between Arrochar andTarbet, and launched them on the great lake that is called Loch Lomond. 

Now on Loch Lomond there are many small islands that were at that timethickly peopled, and many Scots of the invaded earldom of Lennox hadtaken refuge on those islands when they heard that the Norsemen wereadvancing. Their safeholds now became the scenes of plunder andbloodshed, the islands were wasted with fire, the shores of thebeautiful lake were completely ravaged, and the houses on its bordersburnt to the ground. 

After this, Roderic and Magnus made an extended expedition into the richcounty of Stirling, in which they massacred great numbers ofinhabitants, and returned driving herds of cattle before them, andloaded with booty. 

During his voyage up the Clyde, Roderic had paid little heed to the faircaptive Aasta. But when, triumphant and gloating, he returned to theships he had left in Loch Long, he discovered that his prisoner hadescaped, and he was very wrathful, for, as he said, the maid was passingfair, and he had been minded to take her back with him to his castle. But no man could tell him how the girl had escaped, or which way she hadfled. 

Roderic, having filled his ships with plunder, then set out for Kintyre, where he was to join King Hakon. But entering the Clyde from Loch Long, he encountered a terrible storm. Ten of his vessels were completelywrecked, and his own galley was forced to steer clear of Bute, and takerefuge behind the islands of Cumbrae. 

The measure of the Norwegian success was now full. Hakon had gainedpossession of every island, great and small, on the west of Scotland. Inthe far north he had established his footing not only in the Shetlandsand Orkneys, but he had made himself master of the whole county ofCaithness. In the south, Kintyre had been unconditionally ceded to himby its timid lord. Bute, Arran, and the Cumbraes had been conquered; therich county of Lennox -- one of the most fruitful in Scotland -- hadbeen laid waste, and on the outer coasts of the mainland the Norsemenhad planted their banner on many a well-built castle. Hakon was nowintent upon conquering Scotland, so, gathering his whole fleet of nearlytwo hundred ships, he sailed from Gigha round the Mull of Kintyre, andanchored in Kilbrannan Sound. 

In the meantime King Alexander, having received Kenric's early warningof the coming of the Norsemen, had with many Scots and English noblementaken up his residence in Stirling Castle, there to await further news. 

One day in September he was out with a hawking party upon the landswhich, fifty years afterwards, became known to the world as the field ofBannockburn, when suddenly a most beautiful maiden with blood-red hairthrew herself before his horse. 

"May it please your Majesty, " said she, "to hear your servant's petition?"

"Who, then, are you, my pretty maid?" said the King. 

"I am a maid of Bute, your Majesty, and a faithful vassal of my lordEarl Kenric of that isle. And I have come to tell you that the Norsemenhave landed on your shores. They have taken our castle of Rothesay. Theyhave harried your lands of Lennox. They are approaching upon Stirling. And oh, your Majesty, of your mercy I implore you to give speedy succourto your injured subjects by driving this enemy from our midst!"

"How came you here?" asked the King. 

"I was carried off as a prisoner from Rothesay by the tyrant Roderic ofGigha, who hath been sent by King Hakon to lay waste the shores of theClyde. He carried me as far as Loch Long in his ship. But there Iescaped and found my way hither to inform your Majesty of these disasters. "

"Roderic of Gigha?" echoed the King. "So, ho, and 'tis he who hath takenBute? By St. Andrew, but he shall not long enjoy his conquests. 

"My lords, " he added turning to his companions, "methinks the maidspeaks truth. Now turn we back to Stirling and cease this sporting, forthere are higher duties to perform. Come, my lords, let us at oncemuster a goodly army, and march against these bold sea wolves ere theyhave gone too far. "

But ere the king had time to do more than learn the extent of theinvasions, Roderic and Magnus had returned to their ships. Alexander, however, soon learned that Hakon himself had entered the Clyde with hisarmaments, and thereupon there ensued an interchange of messages betweenthe two monarchs. A truce was agreed upon until terms might be arranged. It was the object of the King of Scots to so delay negotiations, thatevery day might give him more time to concentrate his army; and as theautumn was drawing to a close, it brought the Norwegians a nearerprospect of wreck and disaster from the winter storms. 

Alexander made such moderate demands that it was apparent he was notfully prepared to resist the fleet and army of Norway. He had nostanding army. He had never been engaged in any warlike affair. He sentword to the Norse king signifying that he would be content to retain themainland of Scotland and the islands inclosed by it -- Arran, Bute, andthe two Cumbraes -- and it appears that he was willing to have given upto Norway the whole of the isles of the Hebrides. These terms, soadvantageous to Hakon, were, fortunately for Scotland, rejected. Theproud master of the invading force would give up nothing coming withinhis claims. It then was observed that Alexander became shy of furthertreating, and that a force was gradually collecting upon the heightsoverlooking the Cunningham coast. 

Hakon then proposed that Alexander should meet him, each at the head ofhis army, and treat concerning a peace. If the attempt at negotiationfailed, then he would throw down the gauntlet from Norway and challengethe Scottish monarch to debate the matter with his army in the field, and let God, in His pleasure, determine the victory. 

Upon this Alexander, in no wise unwilling to fight, pronounced the truceat an end, and war was declared. 

 CHAPTER XXVI. A TRAITOR KNAVE. 

Earl Kenric, on seeing the outlaw and his troops march back in thedirection of Rothesay, breathed a great sigh of relief. 

The people of Bute were so far safe; much bloodshed had been avoided. The abbot and Elspeth Blackfell had by their simple words reversed thedesigns of an army. So when the abbot returned into the walledinclosure, Kenric took his hands and reverently kissed them. 

"And now, holy father, " said he, "let us all offer thanks to God for Hisgreat goodness at this time of our need, for God alone can have stayedthe hands of these ruffians. "

Then the abbot and his friars stood before the many children andmoist-eyed women and brawny islanders who crowded into the circle, andall knelt down upon the grass. Never since the gospel of Christ had beenintroduced into that land had prayers been more fervently uttered. 

In the midst of the prayers, Ailsa Redmain, kneeling by Kenric's side, suddenly touched him on the shoulder, and pointed over towards the Arranhills. There, in the direction of Ranza, he saw a great column of blacksmoke rising in the air. 

"Alas for Sir Piers de Currie!" he murmured, and then again bent his head. 

But when the prayers were said Kenric quickly rose and climbed the thickwall, and running with all speed to Dunagoil he ordered Allan Redmain totake two ships over to Arran, for that Sir Piers de Currie's castle wasin flames. 

Not long were the two galleys in crossing the sound. Entering LochRanza, they entrapped three ships of the Norsemen that had been sentagainst the castle while Margad their chief was attacking the castle ofBrodick on the eastern side of the island. Attacking these ships, AllanRedmain speedily put the Norse warriors to the sword and took theirvessels as prizes. 

On the beach he found the gallant knight, Sir Piers, standing in thelight of the flames that devoured his home. His wife and six childrenwere clinging to his side piteously weeping. His castle was completelywrecked, and as there was not another fit dwelling for many milesaround, Allan Redmain, having driven off the enemies who were on shore, besought Sir Piers to bring his family on board, and with twelve bravemen of Arran who had escaped, he was taken over to St. Blane's to suchrefuge as there remained to him. The beautiful Lady Adela and the LadyGrace de Currie fell into each other's arms, for in the hour of theiradversity they were as sisters. 

At the time when Kenric was thus receiving his neighbours of Arran, themen whom Roderic had left in charge of the castle of Rothesay weremaking merry over their victories. A dozen of them, officers of thegarrison, sat in the great hall -- the hall in which the good EarlHamish had met his death. On the bare board of the table there lay acooked haunch of venison, with other viands that had been found in thebuttery, with many cakes of brown bread and drinking horns filled withwine. For these men had not been long in command ere they had broachedmore than one wine cask with casks of other liquors of a stronger sort, and they grew ever more noisy and more boisterous, this one boasting ofhow many dogs of Bute he had slain, and that one vaunting that he hadwith his own hand struck the stripling lord of the island to the ground. 

Often one of them would rise from the long bench before the fire andmaul the venison with his bloodstained hands, turning it over this wayand that; then taking his sword, which had been used that day for a verydifferent purpose, he would cut off a great slice of the meat, andspreading a layer of salt upon it, clap it between two cakes of breadand sit down to enjoy the food. In eating, drinking, and singing wildbattle songs, these warriors passed that evening, each thinking himselfa king. 

Some of the men were wounded, but little did they seem to care; nay, many a one even proudly displayed his bleeding cuts, to prove how sorelybestead he had been in the fight, and the man who had the greatest showof wounds was looked upon almost with envy. To be wounded was next tobeing slain, and to be slain on the field of battle was the mostglorious death a man might die. 

"Well, my brothers-in-arms, " at length said one who appeared to be theircaptain, "'tis a good day's work that we have done. So let us drink andbe merry. Here's waes-hael to king Rudri of Bute. Long life to him!"

Then the men took up their drinking horns and drank deep to the lastdrop. But two there were who drank not at all, and they were men ofColonsay. 

"Why drink ye not with me?" growled the captain, frowning. 

"Because, Thorolf, " said one with flashing eye, "I am but ill-contentwith the way that Rudri broke his plighted word to us. When we set outon this journey, was it that we should but help him to gain his father'sisland? No. Did he not solemnly swear that he would give us our fullmeed of vengeance upon the whelp who massacred our children? And whatman of us has had that chance? Blood for blood, say I!"

"And so say I, " muttered his companion. "Methought when we came herethat I should have the chance of driving my spear into a full half scoreof the children of Bute -- that I might have served them even as thestripling Kenric served my little ones. Saint Olaf curse him!"

"It baffles me, " said the first, "to know by what means the women andchildren of this isle have been spirited away. Not since we landedyestermorn have I so much as seen a living child, nor woman neither, saving only that old witch. "

"Ay, and the fighting maid who cut me this wound across my pate, " addedanother. "Methinks this Kenric must surely have got wind of ourintention; but how that can be, what man can tell?"

"What then of the thing we found on the moor of Gigha, after the councilthat King Hakon held?" asked Thorolf the captain. "What man would haveslain the young Harald of Islay if it were not some spy of Bute? The ladwas stabbed through the back; 'twas in no fair fight that he fell. "

"True, " said they all. "By St. Olaf, that is surely so!"

"Could we find out in Rudri's absence where these babes and wives ofBute have been so cunningly hidden, " said one of the men of Colonsay, "methinks we might well pay out both Rudri and young Kenric. What sayyou, my bold brothers all?"

"'Tis my belief, " said another, "that the old witch who spoke to EarlRoderic had some secret intention in turning us away from yon chapel atthe end of the island. "

At this the men were silent; but at last one said:

"I'd swear that it was even so. And what say you all if we go thencethis very night and fall upon the chapel with fire and sword? 'Tis astraight road from this, and easily found. "

At this moment there were footsteps in the outer corridor. Three menentered, dragging with them yet another who was bound with ropes. Theirprisoner was David Blair, the farmer of Scalpsie. He had been captured, hiding like a frightened cur, among the rocks of Ascog. 

The Norse captain, who could speak the Gaelic, on learning who he was, commanded him, on pain of instant death, to tell where Kenric of Butehad taken the women and children. 

The farmer hesitated a moment; then, seeing the captain draw his sword, he gasped:

"Oh, spare me, spare me, my lord! Give me but my life, and I will tellyou all. I will tell you where you may find these people, and how youcan get at them. But, since death is the punishment wherewith youthreaten my silence, tell me, then, what shall be my reward if I tellyou this you ask?"

The captain smiled grimly. Then in Danish he said:

"You base inhuman craven! you ask what reward I will give you? Methinksthe only fitting reward for such treachery were to have a cauldron ofboiling lead poured down your guilty throat. Reward, forsooth!"

"Nay, but I cannot understand, my master. I am but a poor Scot who knowsnot the Norse tongue. Say, what reward do you promise?"

"Fear not, my man. You shall have your deserts, " said the captain. "Tellme, now, or I will even cut you down this instant where you standtrembling. "

"The families of Bute -- men, women, bairns -- are all in the abbey ofSt. Blane's, " said Blair. "They are penned up like a vast flock of sheepin the abbey and the chapel, in the chapel vaults, and within the wallsof the Circle of Penance. There you will find them, with my lady Adelaof Rothesay, and young Kenric himself, and Allan Redmain that murderedmy poor dog --"

"Enough!" cried the captain sternly, "and now for your reward. "

Then turning to one of the men who had brought in the captive, he added:

"Hundi, this man is a traitor, and as a traitor he must now be served. You will therefore conduct him to the topmost towers of the castle, andtaking the rope that now binds him, you will tie a shipman's noose abouthis neck and let him hang in mid-air, that the carrion crows may tastethe flesh of one of the meanest cowards in the isles. "

Then, as the farmer was taken away to his death, Thorolf the captainpaced the floor moodily, speaking not a word. 

"What said this man, Thorolf?" asked one of his comrades. "Come, tell uswhere we may find these people. "

"That will I tell to no man!" said Thorolf firmly, "and as I am captainhere, these are my orders: that if any man seek to discover where thesefamilies are now harboured, or if any man does aught to further molestthe people of Bute, he may expect a reward equal to that of the traitorwho has now gone to meet his deserved death. There are ropes in Rothesayfor all who dare to disobey me!"

"Coward!" muttered one of the men of Colonsay, rising and passing out ofthe hall, "think you that you alone could understand that man? I heardhis answer, and by my sword, I mean to act upon it;" and thereupon theyall stood up and followed, taking their arms and leaving Thorolf alonebeside the fire. 

Later on that evening, when Sir Piers de Currie with the friars of St. Blane's were sitting quiet in the abbey refectory, when the Lady Adelaand the mothers of Bute were busy putting the little ones to sleep, EarlKenric was walking to and fro in front of the gate of the Circle ofPenance. He carried his naked sword in his arms, and he wore the heavychain armour that had not been put aside for four long days. He was veryweary, for he had had a long day's fighting, and no sleep had he knownsince the night of his adventure in Gigha. 

He was thinking now of all that had passed, and of the many men, hiscompanions and faithful vassals, who now lay dead. Also he was wonderingwhat had become of the wild girl Aasta. She had done many things forwhich he owed her deep gratitude. Not only had she given him the greatsword of Somerled, with which he had done so much in defence of hispeople; but it was she who had warned him of the coming of the enemy; itwas she who had gone over with him to Gigha, and made it possible forhim to learn the plans of the Norsemen. (She had there saved his life, though Kenric knew it not. ) It was she who had told him that the greatpirate Rudri was his own evil uncle Roderic. He was accordingly muchconcerned for her safety, and much troubled in his fear of what hadhappened to her. 

Suddenly, in the midst of his musing, someone passed him like a rush ofwind. In the dim evening light he saw Ailsa Redmain. 

"Ailsa!" he cried, "where go you? Why do you thus come out here whereyou know full well that none but men may come?"

"My lord, " said she, "it is little Ronald Campbell that I seek, and hissister Rachel. We cannot find them, and they have not been seen byanyone since evensong. Methinks they must have crept under the gate andso wandered into the grove. "

"Are there no men who could seek the children as well as you? Go back, Ailsa, and let me seek. "

But as he spoke, he heard the sound of children's laughter from amongthe birch trees, and, believing that Ailsa was turning back, he ranforward towards the woods. 

Now little Ronald Campbell was the same who had picked up Earl Kenric'sgauntlet on the day of his throning on the Great Plain. 

Scarcely had Kenric entered the grove when the laughter he had heard waschanged into a scream of terror. Little Ronald, dragging his sister bythe hand, came running towards him, pursued by a score of savageNorsemen. Kenric was about to snatch up the children in his arms when hesaw it was too late. The Norsemen were upon him. He gripped his swordand stood his ground. At the same moment Ailsa Redmain brushed past himand took the little Ronald by the hand. One of the men of Colonsaydarted forward, levelling his spear, and with its sharp point caught thelittle Rachel. The child fell down, and the spear was but caught in herwoollen frock. In an instant Kenric had leapt forward, swinging hissword in air. His heavy blade crashed into the man's skull. Then othertwenty men surrounded Kenric, menacing him and pressing forward to reachthe children he defended. A man of Colonsay caught Ailsa by her hand, and with his dagger was about to take her life. With a great cry offurious rage Kenric sprang upon him and felled him. 

Closer still the Norsemen pressed in upon him. But Ailsa lay down at hisfeet with the two little ones clasped tightly in her arms, protectingthem as a moor hen protects her chicks under the cover of her spreadingwings. Kenric, sweeping his blade from right to left, felled every manwho came within a couple of paces of Ailsa, until at last the yellingwarriors drew back, leaving the young earl standing in the midst of acircle of dead men, with Ailsa and the two children still unscathed. 

Then as the enemy, reinforced by many of their comrades from among thetrees, and ranking themselves shoulder to shoulder, drew in again, suddenly a shower of arrows poured upon them, and a troop of the men ofBute rushed forward from their ambush. 

From another direction a warrior on horseback appeared and crashed inamong the Norsemen, felling them with mighty strokes of his heavybattle-axe. Then followed such a slaughter of the Norsemen that in a fewminutes not one was left alive. 

The warrior on horseback threw his battle-axe upon the ground, anddrawing rein, sat upon his saddle with folded arms, and Kenric saw byhis armour that he too was one of the enemy, and he marvelled much. 

The men of Bute were now eager to make an end of that stranger, for theythought that he was the leader of the men who had thus attempted tosurprise the guard and make inroads upon the abbey. But, seeing the mansitting so calm upon his horse and unarmed, they lowered their weapons. 

This stranger horseman was Thorolf the captain, who had followed hisrebel guards with intent to intercept them. 

"Young man, " said he to Kenric, "I know not who you are, but by thecircle of dead men now lying about you, and by the prowess whereby youhave saved the lives of these three children, I judge that you can benone other than the young king of Bute. "

"That, sir, is so, " said Kenric, wiping his sword upon a mossy stone andsheathing it. "And who are you, my master?"

"The captain of these rebel scoundrels -- Thorolf Sigurdson ofBenbecula, " said the warrior, uncovering his head of ruddy curls. "Ihave been left warden of the castle of Rothesay by Rudri Alpinson; andnow do I swear on mine honour, my lord, that this matter that hath justbefallen is none of my doings, for I would fain have prevented it. But'tis but an hour ago that one of your islanders was brought in aprisoner to Rothesay, and it was he who betrayed the harbourage of yourpeople. "

"Who was that man?" asked Kenric with wrathful voice. 

"His name, my lord, was David Blair. He is now, for his betrayal, dangling at a rope's end from the western tower of Rothesay Castle. "

"Well have you served him, " said Kenric; "and now for your courtesy Ithank you, Thorolf Sigurdson. "

Then Kenric bade Ailsa Redmain return with the two children to the abbey. 

"And now, " he added, turning to the captain, "since you are here I wouldbeseech you to grant me a few days' truce, that we may have time to buryour dead. "

"For the matter of that, " said Thorolf, "I would willingly extend thetruce until the return of Rudri. For there are, if I mistake not, manymatters to attend to beyond the burial of the slain. The men ofColonsay, as I hear, have played sad havoc with your homesteads, and itwere well that these were put again into decent repair. "

"Your terms are more favourable than I had hoped for, " said Kenric, "andI well see that you are a man of honour. "

"My lord, " said Thorolf, "much do I commend and admire you for what youhave done in protecting your islanders. That protection, I do assureyou, was much needed, for had your people remained in their homes notone of them would now have been alive. But I swear that they arehenceforth safe from all further peril. And now, for my own curiosityalone, I would ask you how it happened that you were so timely warned ofthe danger that threatened you, my lord?"

Kenric told how William MacAlpin had come to Bute, and how he himselfhad spied upon the council of King Hakon in Gigha. 

"Ah, then, 'twas you who slew the young son of John of Islay?" criedThorolf, though not in anger. "The lad was found dead on the very rockyou speak of. "

"Not so, " said Kenric; "I slew him not. And 'tis now for the first timeI hear that he is dead. "

"But you had companions?"

"A girl was indeed with me. But -- ah, surely Aasta cannot have donethis thing?"

"Aasta? That is a Norse name. Well, 'tis no business of mine, " said thecaptain; "and now will I return to Rothesay well content that yourpeople have received no greater injuries than they now suffer at thehands of my friends your enemies. Give you goodnight, my lord. "

"By my faith, a right honest man!" said Kenric as Thorolf rode away. 

"And a good Christian, if I mistake not, " said the abbot, who had heardthe conversation. 

"Ay, and a gallant soldier to boot, " added Allan Redmain. "But for histurning upon those ruffians, methinks it would have gone ill with Kenricand my sister Ailsa. "

"God be thanked for our escape, " murmured the abbot. "And now, ifRoderic and his crew come not back over soon, all may yet go well withus. At sunrise we will all set forth with picks and shovels and give atrue Christian burial to both friend and foe alike. And God rest theirsouls, one and all. "

 CHAPTER XXVII. THE BATTLE OF LARGS. 

Two weeks of gloomy weather passed, with clouded skies and fitful winds. During that time nothing was heard in Bute of either Roderic the Roveror King Hakon of Norway. Kenric and his men, with the priests of St. Blane's, made busy work in burying the dead. Also, they got all theirshipmen and fishers, farm workers and shepherds, to build up thedevastated cottages and farmsteads, and one by one these dwellings againreceived their wonted inmates. The villages of Rothesay, Ardbeg, Kames, Ascog, and other settlements in the island had been roughly handled bythe invaders, and many farms had been despoiled. But for the greaterpart the shells of the houses had been left standing, and there weremany hands to make light work of restoring them. 

The Lady Adela of Rothesay, Lady Grace de Currie, Ailsa Redmain, and thewomen of Rothesay Castle took up their quarters in the nunnery attachedto the barony of St. Blane's, for none would return to the castle whileyet a Norseman remained therein; and Kenric had passed his word that hewould not attempt to regain possession of his stronghold until the kingsof Norway and Scotland had settled their dispute. 

On the last day of September Sir Piers de Currie, Kenric, and Allan --now Sir Allan Redmain, for the knighthood of Scotland was hereditary --were walking over from Ascog, when, looking towards the seaboard betweenArran and the Cumbraes, they observed a great fleet of ships, with manyflags flying from their masts, making across the Clyde. A hundred andfifty war galleys there were in all. 

"The saints protect us!" cried Allan. "What means all this?"

"'Tis even as I expected, " said Kenric. "They are the ships of Hakon ofNorway, who now intends to invade the mainland. "

"Then, if this be indeed so, " said Sir Piers, "methinks it is now ourplace to be following under the banner of our sovereign. Too long havewe already delayed. To your ships, Kenric! To your ships this very hour!Muster your men and let us at once hasten over to Cunningham, for, if Imistake not, King Alexander must even now be marching to the coast. 'Tisbut small help that we can offer, but let it not be said that we shirkedour duty in the hour of Scotland's need. "

"Go, Sir Allan, " said Kenric, "hasten to the headland of Garroch andthere blow me on your horn the call to arms. Not long will our men be inanswering that summons. 

"And now, Sir Piers, to you do I resign the command of our forces. Giveus your directions and we will promptly obey. "

"Let every man who can draw a longbow, or wield pike or sword, be sentupon the ships, " said the knight. "At noon, when the tide is at the halfflood, we set sail for Gourock. "

"Gourock?"

"Even so. The bay of Gourock is our best shelter, and thence we canmarch southward towards Largs, or to whatsoever spot the enemy determineto make their landing place. "

"'Tis well, " said Kenric. 

"And furnish me with the best horse you can find, " added Sir Piers, "for'tis on horseback that I would fight. "

So at noon that day seven galleys hove anchor in the bay of Kilchattan, with each a company of seven score men; in all a thousand gallantislanders sailed that day from Bute. Creeping up the shores of theisland, past Kerrycroy and Ascog, they steered across by Toward Point. And by this time the fleet of King Hakon had disappeared into thechannel that flows between the two Cumbrae islands. 

As Kenric's ships crossed the Clyde a drizzling rain came on, and thewind began to blow in fitful gusts from the southwest. But they reachedthe safe harbour of Gourock without mishap, and there cast anchor. 

That night the half moon that shone dimly through the scudding cloudslay on her back, with a great circle of light around her, betokeningstormy weather. 

The next morning, which was the 1st of October, was cold and windy. SirPiers ordered his troops ashore, leaving but a few shipmen to watch thegalleys. Landing amidst a shower of heavy hail he was met by a party ofmounted Scots clad in complete mail, who told him that King Alexanderhad already started from Lanark with fifteen hundred mounted men-at-arms. 

Sir Piers marshalled his islanders in order and gave the word to march, and ever as they moved southward they were joined by the villagers andparties of sturdy fighting men. 

Kenric and Allan, with Duncan Graham at their side, marched afoot, forboth were wont to feel ill at ease in the saddle. Nevertheless Allancast many an envious glance at the gallant knight who led them. SirPiers was clothed in the most beautiful suit of armour that had everbeen seen in that time. His horse was a powerful Spanish jennet that hadbelonged to Earl Hamish of Bute, and it was protected by a heavybreastplate and flank armour. The rider was splendidly armed from headto foot, his helm and coat of mail being inlaid with gold. At his leftside there hung a long claymore, longer by three inches than Kenric'sgreat sword. In his right hand he held a ponderous battle-axe of solidbrass, and from his pommel there hung a spiked mace whose head was aslarge as the head of a man. His belt was studded with precious stones. Not in all his army had King Alexander a stronger or nobler warrior thanSir Piers de Currie; nor had he one, either strong or weak, who had adeeper hatred against the Norse invaders, for they had burnt down hiscastle of Ranza, and by them had his own uncle's castle of Brodick beenrazed to the ground and his uncle slain. He was to fight that day forhis beautiful wife and his children, for the possession of his estates, for his revenge against his enemies, and for his King and country; andnone who saw him could have doubted that he would prove a most valiantand powerful antagonist. 

Kenric had on his crested helm of brass, and wore a shirt of steel mail. His knees and arms were bare, showing his firm muscles and the suntannedskin; on his feet he wore buskins of double hide, and his legs wereprotected by brass greaves. Over his back his longbow was slung besidehis full arrow sheaf. At his right side was his dirk, at his left thesword of Somerled. On his arm he carried a small round shield studdedwith nails, though this was more an encumbrance than a defence, sincehis sword required the use of his two hands, and the shield might onlybe employed as a protection against arrows fired from a distance. 

Sir Allan Redmain was attired in like manner. As to their islanders, some few of them of the better condition -- as Duncan Graham and RonaldGray -- wore shirts of mail, but the larger number, so far from desiringarmour when they came to close quarters with the enemy, even threw theirplaids aside and fought in their shirts, bare legged, bare armed, bareheaded. Many of them carried bows and arrows; all had either claymoresor pole-axes, with daggers and targets. 

They had marched some ten miles southward through the sheltered glens ofNoddsdale when, mounting to the ridge of the range of hills that riseabove the shores of Cunningham, they were met by a keen icy wind fromthe southwest. Below them stretched the wide Firth of Clyde, turbulent, angry with foam-capped waves. Far across the water rose the giantmountains of Arran, with their tattered peaks frowning in dark-blueblackness against the leaden sky, and through a rent in the clouds along beam of sunshine shot, slanting down for a moment upon the softgreen hills of Bute. On the nearer side were the two islands of Cumbrae, with a strip of gray sea between them, where lay the storm-tossedgalleys of King Hakon the Old. 

These ships, which during the night had taken shelter in the harbourthat is now named Millport Bay, were already making for the shores ofthe mainland below the village of Largs, for it was at this point thatthe Norse king had determined to land his invading forces. 

Largs was not a spot which a modern general would have chosen for aninvasion. It was ill suited for troops forming in strength afterlanding. There is a narrow strip of level ground, with bluffs risingright up from it. Troops marching along this strip, either north orsouth, would be flanked by the higher ground for many miles. To attemptto pass through any of the ravines which pierce the range of hills wouldhave been perilous. Nevertheless Hakon had chosen this landing place. 

"Methinks, " said Sir Piers de Currie, as he watched the Norse galleysbattling with the waves, "that our work is already half accomplished. Should the wind rise yet higher no easy task will Hakon find it to landhis men on that lee shore. "

"Had I been he, " said Kenric, "it is not thus that I would have lingeredamong the isles ere I made a descent upon the mainland. Had Hakonpressed onward with all his forces, instead of despatching a squadronhere and a squadron there for useless plundering, had he made straightfor Scotland while yet the fair weather continued, and while yet KingAlexander was unaware of his approach, he might even have made asuccessful conquest. 

"But look eastward yonder across the hills at the fair troop of Scotsadvancing in battle array. Look down upon the plain of Largs, where agood two thousand men are waiting ready. Soon will King Alexanderhimself be here with his cavalry from Lanark. By my faith, the Norsemanwill have a warmer welcome than he looks for!"

"Let us then hasten downward, " said Sir Piers, "that we may have a tasteof the battle before the elements have entirely robbed us of our foe. "

Troop after troop of Scots marched onward toward Largs. From Ayr theycame, from Renfrew, Dumbarton, Stirling, Turnberry, and many anotherstronghold that had been warned of the enemy's nearness by means ofbeacon fires on the highest hilltops. 

But of the forces that were making ready to meet them the Norsemen knewlittle. They were at present too much engaged in attending to the safetyof their ships, and not any of them could make a landing that day. Thewind rose higher, the tempest increased in fury, and at nightfall therecame a deluging storm of hail and rain which continued until late nextmorning. 

For this the Scots cared little. Curling themselves up with their plaidsabout them they slept soundly upon the heather, undisturbed by thehowling of the wind and the raging of the waves upon the rocky shore. But with the invaders it was far from being such an easy matter. Theiranchors dragged. Many vessels had to have their masts cut away. KingHakon's own gallant ship, although secured by seven anchors, was drivenfrom her moorings, and five galleys were cast ashore. 

And now when the tempest seemed to threaten the total destruction oftheir enemies, a mixed multitude of armed Scots on the surroundingheights watched every movement of the Norwegian fleet, ready to takeinstant advantage of its distress. So, when the five galleys with theirarmed shipmen were driven ashore, Sir Piers de Currie and the men ofBute rushed down from the heights and attacked the stranded vessels. Whereupon the Norsemen defended themselves with great gallantry. 

The rest of the fleet were presently seen beating up the channel towardsLargs, and, as the tempest had lulled, reinforcements soon landed insuch numbers that the Scots were forced to retire towards the heights. 

At sunrise King Hakon himself came ashore with a force of three thousandmen, ordering an advance towards the higher ground. At the moment whenthe marching order was given the army of King Alexander appeared uponthe hilltop. The sun's rays breaking through the ragged clouds sparkledupon spears and cuirasses. The cavalry made a noble appearance. Most ofthem were knights and barons from the neighbouring counties, armed fromhead to heel, and mounted on Spanish horses which were clothed incomplete armour. With this troop of fifteen hundred horsemen was a vastbody of foot soldiers. 

Seeing all this, Sir Piers de Currie no longer hesitated to renew hisengagement. Rallying his men he began to skirmish with the advance ofthe Danes and Norwegians. He pressed on both flanks with so much furythat, fearing they would be cut to pieces -- as many were -- the enemybegan a retreat which soon changed into a flight. King Hakon and many ofhis best fighting men scrambled into the boats and pushed off into thesafety of the deeper water, regaining their ships. 

Everything now depended upon the landing of reinforcements. But at thiscritical moment a violent storm of hail came on; the wind rose againwith such strength that it completed the ruin of many of the ships. Inthe midst of the fighting on land there was a still more furious battleupon the waves. Galley after galley was driven upon the rocks, and theircrews had little spirit for meeting their overpowering enemies. 

Between the anger of the elements and the ceaseless showers of arrowsfrom the Scots, their army was greatly distressed. Their leaders, too, began to desert them, and in their frantic efforts to escape theyovercrowded the boats, many of which went down. 

Sir Piers de Currie now drew up his men in line on the hillside, andleft them in charge of Allan Redmain and Kenric. Then he rode to meetthe King, whose troops had by this time descended to the level ground. 

"So, then, Sir Piers, " said Alexander, whose tall figure, as he sat onhis brown jennet, was almost wholly covered by a great cloak -- "so youhave arrived before us? And are we then to have no share in thisadventure? 'Tis passing unfriendly in you thus to dismiss our enemy erewe have seen his face. Tarry awhile and let them land again. Ourhorsemen here are like hounds straining at the leash. What men have you, Sir Piers?"

"A few hundred peasant lads, your Majesty, and some eight hundred men ofBute, " said the knight. 

"And are there then none cf your own men of Arran?"

"Alas, sire, these Norse dogs have left me but a handful of followers, for my uncle has been slain, and our four castles have been taken. Ourislanders have taken refuge among the mountains. I and my family, who, by God's grace, escaped, have been these two weeks past in Bute, whereEarl Kenric has most heroically saved the lives of many hundreds of yourloyal subjects. 'Tis true he has lost his castles of Rothesay andKilmory, but --"

"Kenric of Bute has done well, " said the King. "We have already heard ofall that he has done for the people of Bute. It was from one of his ownmessengers that we first heard of Hakon's arrival on our coasts. Kenricshall not be forgotten. Our only regret is that he did not put an end tothat villainous outlaw his uncle. But there may yet be hope that Rodericis in the field this day. So we pray you, Sir Piers, should youencounter him, deal him his death blow, and you shall have our eternalgratitude. And now to your work, and God defend the right. "

Then as Sir Piers rode off to rejoin his troops, the King turned to astalwart warrior at his side and bade him show King Hakon a lesson indefence. This warrior was Alexander the high steward of Scotland, a manbred in the use of arms, and, next to Sir Piers de Currie, the mostvaliant soldier that fought in that field. And with him rode three goodEnglish knights who were of the court of Alexander. With a full companyof cavalry he rode across the plain and took up his position with SirPiers de Currie. 

During this interval the hailstorm had abated, and the Norsemen hadagain effected a landing in great numbers under the chiefs OgmundKraekidantz and Haffling of Orkney. 

Sir Piers de Currie and the steward rode forward side by side, attempting in the chivalrous style of the time to provoke an encounter. But none would take this challenge, so Sir Piers rode back. Then thesteward, riding in front of the ranks of the enemy who were drawn upalong the beach, was speedily surrounded. Spurring his charger, hedashed forward, and wielding his great battle-axe he struck down theopposing Norsemen as the waving wheat falls before the sickle, leaving arow of slain men in his track. 

The Norsemen then rushed forward with loud cries to meet the troops ofpeasants and men of Bute who charged them. But the horsemen galloped inbetween and drove the enemy along the shore. The fair-haired warriors ofthe North again and again rallied and behaved with the accustomedbravery of their viking ancestors, fearless of wounds and glorying inwarlike death. 

Many galleys were then brought nearer inshore, and though assailed byheavy stones from the Scots' machines and ceaseless showers of arrows, their men scrambled upon the beach. And now Sir Piers de Currie againrode forward, followed by Kenric, Allan Redmain, Duncan Graham, many menof Bute, and others of Lanark and Ayr. This was the one sortie of theengagement that was in the nature of a real battle. In numbers the twosides were almost equal. 

Sir Piers was met by five Norse chiefs, and he encountered them withfierce courage. One by one he felled them to the ground, cleaving theirbrass helms with his heavy axe. And ever as they fell their places weretaken by as many others. At his horse's left side fought Kenric, Allan, and Duncan; Kenric swinging his great sword and smiting right and leftat those who tried to reach the horseman, Allan and Duncan in likemanner fighting with steady blows. And thus they pressed their way everfarther into the ranks of the enemy, moving with Sir Piers, backward orforward, and defending his left side as he slew his assailants on his right. 

Kenric heard the gallant knight's panting breath growing weaker. 

"To the other side, Duncan, " he cried. And Duncan Graham worked roundbehind the horse's tail to relieve Sir Piers of some of his foes whopressed upon him. Not long had he changed his position when Kenric sawthe horse swerve and fall. A deep groan from Sir Piers was all that toldof the terrible wounds he had received. 

The Norwegian chronicle recording this fight says that Sir Piers deCurrie was killed by a blow which severed his thigh from his body, thesword cutting through the greaves of his armour and penetrating to thesaddle. Howbeit the brave Sir Piers was slain, and the man who slew himwas the outlaw Roderic MacAlpin. 

Duncan Graham, seeing who had done this thing, at once closed withRoderic, and the two fought with terrible vigour. 

Now Duncan, ever since he had received that wound in his chest over atColl, had lost the power to raise his right arm above his head, and itwent ill with him. When Kenric, rushing to Sir Piers de Currie's rightside, first saw his enemy, Roderic was in the act of smiting a fearfulblow upon Duncan's bare and outstretched neck. Duncan fell, not evenuttering a groan, so speedily fatal was the blow he had received. 

But above the clang of the battle and the thunderous surging of thewaves, there rose at this moment into the air a woman's cry of anguish. It was the cry of Aasta the Fair. 

Wearing the same coat of mail and helmet that she had worn at the siegeof Rothesay, and wielding a light broadsword, she had been fighting withas fearless bravery as any man there present. She had cloven her waythrough the battling men to the place where rose the towering head ofher lover Duncan, and arrived at his side at the very moment when thesword of Roderic smote him down. Splashed with her lover's blood shegripped her sword, nor paused to see if Duncan were indeed dead. Sheleapt with a wolf-like howl upon Roderic MacAlpin, and so pressed himwith her blows that he stepped back and back. 

The maid, though strong, was ill-trained in the use of the sword, andher every blow was skilfully parried. But to Aasta's side came Kenric, his eyes gleaming with fierce hatred of his foe. They were now at thevery verge of the sea, and the spray from the surging billows fell uponthem like heavy rain. Roderic struck at Aasta, muttering a curse, andKenric in parrying that blow missed his chance. He saved Aasta's life, but before he could recover his weapon, Roderic had quickly turned roundand plunged into the foaming waves. 

Promptly did Kenric thrust his sword between his knees and take hislongbow from over his shoulder. Aasta as promptly handed him an arrow. He saw Roderic standing waist deep in the breakers sheathing his sword. He levelled an arrow at his throat, but quickly as the arrow flewRoderic raised his shield. The dart plunged into the hard board. Anotherand another arrow followed with the same result. Then Roderic, throwinghimself into the deeper water, and holding his shield to defend his bareneck, swam outward towards the ships. 

No other man in all that host could have breasted those great waveswithout being dashed to pieces on the rocks. But Roderic MacAlpin was asmuch at home in the water as upon the dry land, and though Kenricbelieved that he had but preferred a watery grave to being hacked todeath by sword or axe, yet Roderic reached his ship in safety and livedto fight another day. 

Kenric, returning with Aasta from the beach, found Allan Redmain, surrounded by many men of Bute, fighting still. There was a great swordcut across his cheek, but his strong arms waved about him unceasingly, smiting down at every blow one of the fair-haired warriors of the North. Then Kenric joined in the fray, swinging his trusty blade to right, toleft, and forcing his way to Allan's side, where he stood his groundover the dead body of Sir Piers de Currie. 

That good knight's splendid armour had caught the eyes of his covetousfoes, who were also enraged at the thought of the many doughty Norsemenwho had fallen under his mighty blows. Twelve of their best men werevictims of his well-wielded battle-axe, and of the twelve were the Norsebarons Ogmund Kraekidantz, Thorlang Bosi, Paul Soor, Andrew Nicholson, and King Hakon's own nephew, Hakon of Steini, all of them most gallantand brave warriors. 

But not less enraged were the Scots on their side at the death of SirPiers, whose body now became the centre point of battle. The Norsemenstrove to gain possession of his armour, and piece by piece they carriedit away. But ever the Scots bore down upon their foes. Swords, pikes, and axes dripped with the crimson drops of battle, arrows and heavystones fell in the midst of the contending forces; the groans of thewounded, the lusty shouts of the deep-throated combatants sounded loudabove the raging of the wind and the thunderous beating of the waves. 

Very soon the foemen shrank away, leaving a great gap in their linesthrough which the Scots cavalry charged, driving the Norsemen to theirships, or forcing them into the turbulent sea. 

At the head of the cavalry rode the Scottish King with his valiantsteward at his side. But little did the horsemen do, for the enemy, already routed by the defenders, and further dispersed by the tempest ofwind and hail, gave up the fight. Many scrambled upon their boats andpushed off from land, and very soon there was scarce a living Norsemanto be seen upon the strand. 

The steward of Scotland then drew up his forces to the heights, wherethey formed anew. There they remained for many hours in the shelter ofthe woods, for the storming of the elements was terrible to behold. 

Towards evening the tempest lulled and the Norsemen, still undaunted, again ventured ashore in vast numbers, landing their boats through atremendous surf. These new troops, led by Roderic MacAlpin and Hafflingof Orkney, attacked the Scots upon two points, making a desperatecharge, and with such success that they killed many and drove the wholearmy back into the farther valley. But here the Scots suddenly halted. Their left wing wheeled round, and taking the invaders in their rearthey speedily brought to an end that battle of Largs. 

The relics of this brave body of invaders, with their two leaders, againembarked in their boats, and although the storm continued, safelyarrived at the fleet. The remaining ships of Hakon were woefullyshattered; they drove from their anchors, many were stranded on theshore, others struck against shallows and rocks, or found equal disasterby running foul of each other. 

The next morning presented a beach covered with dead bodies and a seastrewn with wreckage. 

King Hakon himself had never so much as drawn his sword. His barons andofficers had urged him to remain on board his ship. Defeated, anddismayed at his manifold disasters, he called for a truce for the burialof his dead, and five days were spent by friend and foe in consort inraising above the graves of the fallen warriors those rude memorials thetraces of which still remain to mark the field of battle. 

Of the twenty thousand followers of the Norse king scarcely as manyhundreds remained alive, and of his splendid fleet but a score ofdismantled galleys were left afloat to carry back the defeated invadersto their several homes. 

Crossing to the outer seas, Hakon gathered about him the few piratechiefs who had joined him in the hope of plunder, and upon them hebestowed as rewards for their service the islands of which he had madeimaginary conquest. He gave the isle of Arran to Earl Margad, who hadinvaded it, and upon Roderic MacAlpin he bestowed the isle of Bute. These chiefs, however, did not at once take possession of their estates, but remained on the ships that they might help to replenish theexhausted provisions of the fleet by forcible contribution from the isles. 

King Hakon now felt the vast change that had come over his armamentduring the few weeks since he sailed down among the Western Isles, conquering and winning to his side the island princes as vassals of hisflag. He returned as a baffled invader, and encountered many severerebuffs from the islanders as well as further disasters from the winterstorms. The fatigues of that expedition and his bitter disappointmentssank deep into his old heart, and never again did he see the home thathe had left. Landing in Orkney on the 29th of October, he remained inthe palace of Kirkwall, and there died a broken-hearted man. 

So concluded this memorable expedition against Scotland, which beganwith high hopes, but ended only with disaster and the death of its royalleader. No more did the sons of the vikings attempt to take their standupon the Western Isles. 

Alexander III, freed from a restless and powerful enemy, could lookforward to a continuance of peace and prosperity. But he lost no time infollowing up the advantages he had gained from the engagement at Largs. In the following year he sent a strong military force against thoseunfortunate chiefs who during the late expedition had remained faithfulto Hakon. Some of the island kings were executed; all were reduced. 

Three years afterwards, in 1266, the disputes with Norway were finallysettled by a formal treaty with Magnus IV, Hakon's son, who agreed toyield to Scotland for ever after, all right and sovereignty over theIsle of Man and the Western Isles, specially reserving Orkney andShetland to the crown of Norway. 

In the year 1281 a bond of friendship was established between the twonations by the marriage of the Scottish princess Margaret, daughter ofAlexander III, to Eric of Norway, the grandson of Hakon the Old. It wasthe daughter of this marriage, Margaret the Maid of Norway, whose saddeath in 1290 brought about the disputes of Bruce and Baliol, and led tothe great war of Scottish Independence. 

 CHAPTER XXVIII. AASTA'S SECRET MISSION. 

Since the invasion of Bute, when Elspeth Blackfell's cottage had beenlaid in ruins, Aasta the Fair had taken up her abode with the old womanin a little cave that may still be seen opening out upon the woodedheights above Ascog Bay. 

On an evening in late December the maiden sat in this cave. Her fairhead, with its long flowing hair, was resting in her hands, and her deepblue eyes were fixed upon the glow of a peat fire that burned in themiddle of the chamber, and reflected its warm light upon the deerskincurtain at the entrance. From without came the soughing of a bitter eastwind that blew in biting gusts across the Clyde. 

The three months that had passed since the battle of Largs had broughtbut little joy into Aasta's lonely heart. The destruction of the castleof Kilmory, and the coming of winter, had deprived her of her dailyoccupations upon the farm lands, and her work would not be renewed untilAllan Redmain had rebuilt his castle and spring had softened the frozenfields. The frosts and snows had brought many hardships; food wasscarce, and life in that rocky cave had few comforts. More than all, Duncan Graham, whom she had hoped to wed, was dead -- slain in battle bythe sword of the outlaw Roderic. Aasta almost felt that she had ratherhave been slain at her lover's side than live longer without him in aworld that offered her so little joy. 

But in her despair for herself she yet was comforted by the knowledgethat the Earl Kenric had been spared to his people, and that theNorsemen had finally left him in possession of his castle and lands. Itwas of Kenric that she was now thinking as she sat before the fire. Eversince that night in September, when she had journeyed with him to Gigha, she had felt a strange, close sympathy with him, an affection for himthat was stronger than any other feeling she had ever known. Kenric'speaceful happiness was the one thing that she yearned for. 

But now, when she had thought such happiness was surely before him, anunexpected danger had suddenly arisen. Roderic the Rover was stillalive. The battle which had brought about the death of so many of hiscompanions had spared him. The raging elements that had destroyed somany of the ships had left Roderic's galley unharmed. He had voyagedinto the far north with the defeated King Hakon, and after Hakon's deathhe had returned to Gigha. On any day he might be expected again in Bute. 

Aasta had just heard this unwelcome news from a fisherman who had comeashore at Ascog, and she was questioning in her mind how she mightprofit by the occasion and, unknown to Kenric, go secretly over to Gighaand compass the death of this powerful enemy of Bute. She hated EarlRoderic as the cushat hates the nighthawk, and if by some subtle meansshe could bring him to his death, then might she deem herself fortunateindeed, and her own life not wholly thrown away by a sacrifice thatwould be the means of ensuring lasting happiness to the lord of Bute. 

A new light beamed in her large eyes as she determined at all hazards toattempt this thing. 

Presently she rose from her little wooden stool and took down a heavycloak that she threw about her shoulders. Then from under a sheepskinmat she drew forth a long sharp dirk, which she placed in her leathernbelt. She went further into the cave and put some bread cakes into herwallet. Then drawing aside a curtain that shut off a side chamber in therocky walls, she held up a lighted cruse lamp and looked for a fewsilent moments upon the sleeping form of Elspeth Blackfell. 

"Fare you well, Elspeth, " she murmured softly. "It may be that I shallnever see you again -- no, never again. But God will reward you for thegreat goodness you have shown to your poor Aasta. Fare you well. "

As she sighed and dropped the curtain she turned to leave the cave, andthere crept towards her the gaunt form of a great dog wolf, upon whosebreast there was a patch of pure white hair. The animal lazily stretchedhimself and yawned, showing his long red tongue and his white fangs. Aasta bent down and patted his shaggy coat. 

"No, Lufa, it is alone I go. Get back to your corner, " she said coaxingly. 

The animal turned tail, and with the obedience of a tame dog went backinto the darkness and lay down on his mat of sheepskin, while Aasta, drawing her cloak about her, slipped silently out into the cleartwilight and faced the keen east wind. 

Turning along a narrow path that led upward to the head of the bank, shefollowed the course of a little stream whose pure water was now turnedinto icy crystals. As she gained the level height the wind blew her hairabout her pale and beautiful face. She drew her hood over her head andturned inland. To the south the giant fells of Arran, shrouded in snow, stood out white and distinct against a steel-blue sky, with the wan moonabove them. But the ground that Aasta trod was bare and hard, and thedrifted snow lay only in the deeper hollows crisp as ice. She crossedthe Great Plain beside the Seat of Law, until she came to the woodedshores of Loch Ascog. She observed that the ruffled water of the littlelake was of a deep blue, and she thought of the weird belief of thattime which held that those waters claimed once every year a new victim, and that they only assumed that dark-blue colour in token of a coming death. 

She looked upon Ascog Mere with a superstitious dread, for the people ofBute believed that it was a place of punishment for unhappy spirits, whomight often be heard wailing in the dismal morass about its margin. Sheheard such a wailing even now, though perhaps it was but the whistlingof the wintry wind among the frozen reeds, or the tinkling of the icethat was gathering in a film at the water's verge. 

Hastening her steps, she sought the shelter of the tall fir trees, andmade her way to the southern point of the lake that she might reach thewestern shores of the island, and so take a fisher's boat across toGigha by the same easy course that Kenric had taken with her threemonths before. The journey must now be taken alone, for she meant thatthe vengeful work she contemplated should be secret, and that EarlKenric should be rid of his dangerous enemy without knowing by whom orby what means Roderic had been slain. 

Scarcely had Aasta emerged from among the trees and crossed towards thelake when she heard the beating of footsteps upon the hard ground. Shestood still and listened. Nearer and nearer the footsteps advanced, andpresently at the top of a bald knoll in front of her there appeared thetall figure of a man. He was covered by a seaman's great cloak, which heheld partly over his face to shield him from the cutting wind. He camerapidly towards her, and when they were but a few paces apart he drewback his cloak, revealing his long red beard. 

"Roderic of Gigha!" cried Aasta recoiling a step and feeling for herdirk, as she recognized the man she had set out to slay. 

"Ay, Roderic it is, " said he smiling grimly. "And methinks, fair damsel, that you are the very same who so cunningly escaped from my ship over atArrochar -- the same also who fought so bravely against me at Largs. Bythe saints, my pretty one, but you are a most courageous maiden; much doI admire you, and fain would I know you better. 

"Nay, be not afraid of me, " he added as he saw her draw back from him, "I will not hurt you. 

"What wicked schemes, my lord, have brought you yet again to Bute?"asked Aasta, making pretence to be very calm, and thinking that byseeming to yield to his humour she might be the better able presently touse her dirk. 

"If you must know, " said he as he stepped aside to the leeward of agreat rock, "I come hither to see the old witch Elspeth Blackfell, toreproach her for her false prophecy. Where lives the old hag thesewintry days?"

"In the cave of Ascog, if you know that place, " said Aasta, promptlydeciding how she might entrap him there, and knowing full well that thewolf Lufa would be a sufficient protection for Elspeth. 

"I know it well, " said Roderic, "and there will I go. And now, how faresthe young lord of Bute since he has lost his castles and lands?"

"My lord Kenric's castles and lands are in no wise lost to him, " saidAasta more boldly. 

"How so? Not lost?" cried Roderic in surprise. "Where, then, is ThorolfSigurdson, whom I left as warden over my isle of Bute?"

"Thorolf Sigurdson, Heaven bless his honest heart! has gone home thesemany weeks past to Benbecula, and taken his cowardly Norsemen with him. "

"The traitor!" gasped Roderic. "And is the young Kenric again inpossession of my castle of Rothesay?"

"The castle of Rothesay was never yours, Earl Roderic, and never shallbe, " returned Aasta firmly. "His Majesty of Scots hath given us fullprotection, and for you to seek to remove Earl Kenric from his rightfullordship were vain. If you value your life, my lord, go not near toRothesay. "

"Your warnings are useless, bold maiden, " said Roderic with a sneer. "ToRothesay I will surely go, and Kenric, were he the strongest man in allthe isles, shall not prevent me from taking my own. I have sworn tobring that whelp to his death, and by St. Olaf he shall die this verynight!"

Aasta drew nearer until she stood close enough to touch him. The lightof the moon shone upon her beautiful face, and Roderic, standing withhis back against the rock, thought that surely she was the fairest womanhis eyes had ever beheld. 

"My lord, " said she softly, as though she meant to help him to hiscoveted power, "if this be indeed your intention, methinks 'twere wellthat you should first reckon with me. "

Her right hand now grasped the haft of her dirk, her left hand was readyto fly at the man's bare throat. 

"Haply I am but a weak woman; yet a woman can ofttimes do that which menwould shrink from. "

"Even so, " said he calmly. "And now if you would but help me in thisproject, I swear to you that I will love you always, and when I am inpossession of my lands and castles, I will even make you my wedded wife, and you shall be right happy. "

"Villain!" cried Aasta. Then she flung back her cloak and sprang uponhim, seizing his throat and raising her knife to strike it to his heart. 

Roderic saw her eyes flash like two fierce fires. He saw her weapongleaming in the moon's pale light. With a wild cry of rage he caught heruplifted arm and arrested it. 

"Deceitful witch, " he cried, "is it thus that you would help me?"

"Even so, " said Aasta the Fair. "For now your last hour has come. Nomercy will I show you, base villain that you are!"

And then they struggled together in each other's arms, swaying andpanting, gripping and twisting, like two furious animals. Aasta held himfirmly with her left hand, burying her strong fingers in his thickthroat. But at last he freed himself and forced her back. Then withfierce anger he caught her up in his arms and raised her from her feet, and carried her away. 

Thereupon Aasta gave forth a loud and piercing cry that sounded far awayin the keen winter air. 

That cry was heard at the farther side of Loch Ascog, where, in thedingle of Lochly, Allan Redmain was walking northward towards Rothesay. Allan thought at first that it was the cry of some imprisoned spirit inthe mere; but again he heard it, and no longer doubted that it was awoman's voice calling for help. He ran back to the southern point of thelake, and searched in the growing darkness for a sign that might tellhim what had happened. Nothing could he see but the bare bleak land withits patches of frozen snow, the dark trees waving in the wind, and thestill blue surface of the mere where the frost was swiftly congealingthe water into transparent ice. And then he thought that his ears haddeceived him. 

He went onward to Rothesay over the ever-hardening land. The frost bitsharply. Every stream of water shrank into itself in firm clear ice andgrew silent. Allan was full-blooded in his strong manhood, but when hereached the castle gates his fingers, toes, and ears were numb with theintense cold. 

Before the blazing fire in the great hall he found Kenric with the LadyAdela and his own sister Ailsa. 

Another also was there whose presence made Allan forget the cold. Thisother was sweet Margery de Currie, the eldest daughter of brave SirPiers. She blushed as Allan entered, and made room beside her for him tosit down. She took his hands in hers and chafed them into warmth, atwhich the Lady Adela smiled approval, thinking how brave a pair they made. 

Presently the servitors entered and made ready the evening meal. Allanrose and drew Kenric aside. 

"Over at Kilmory two hours ago, " said he, "I learned bad news, my lord. "

"What news is that, Sir Allan?" asked Kenric. "Is it that your buildersrefuse to work in this cold weather? What matters it? Have you not agood home here, where you can see your lady love every day? Havepatience, Allan; Margery will wait, and you will be wedded when thespringtime comes, and when your castle will be better fitted to receiveyou --"

"Nay, Kenric, 'tis not such matters as these that trouble me, " saidAllan gravely. "The news I speak of is that the rascal Roderic theOutlaw, has, as I believe, returned to Gigha. "

"Roderic in Gigha!" cried Kenric in alarm. "Alas! and I thought himdead. Who told you this thing?"

"A fisherman of Gigha, " said Allan. "But I understood him ill. Methinkswe had better inquire of the maid Aasta the Fair, for the fisher spokewith her, and well I wot he told her all. "

"Doubtless, " said Kenric. "And on the morrow I will even seek Aasta andlearn from her if this be true. It may be that there still is work formy sword to perform. Well is it that I have not already fulfilled myintention of casting the brave weapon into the sea. "

 CHAPTER XXIX. ELSPETH BLACKFELL. 

Early on the following morning, which was the last of the year, ElspethBlackfell awoke to find herself alone in the cave. Aasta was gone; eventhe wolf Lufa was no longer there, and the fire was dead out. Elspethwith some difficulty kindled the hard dry peats, and went to put somewater into the pot to make porridge. The water in the well at the farend of the cave was turned to solid ice. At the cave's entrance therewas a fringe of long icicles hanging like sword blades from the barerock. All was cold and desolate. The black frost had penetratedeverywhere, even, it seemed, to the old woman's bones, for she movedslowly and bent for many minutes over the little fire vainly trying tobring warmth into her shrivelled limbs. 

When at last she was able to put some broken ice into her pot, she wentout into the chill open air, climbed the slippery bank, and stood uponthe height looking abroad for Aasta. She heard the tread of footstepscrunching upon the hard ground among the neighbouring trees; but thetread was strangely heavy. It was not that of the light-footed maiden. 

Elspeth returned into the cave and began to prepare her meal. The soundof the footsteps continued to fall upon her ears; they came nearer. Shewent to the entrance and drew aside the deerskin curtain. She startedback at sight of Roderic the Outlaw. 

"You!" she cried, scowling. "What devil's work now brings you back toBute? for evil it must surely be that tempts you hither. "

"Cease your croaking, Elspeth Blackfell, " said he, "and give me food. This cold has crept into my very marrow. Quick, give me food. "

Elspeth stood aside and allowed him to enter. He went to the fire andsnatched up a burning peat, moving it rapidly from hand to hand, andblowing it into a red glow with his misty breath. Then when he hadwarmed himself, he took out his dirk and cut up some wood for the fire, making the flames rise high about the pot until the water began to simmer. 

Elspeth, without speaking, brought him an oaten cake, which heravenously devoured. By the time that he had eaten it the water wasboiling. He thrust his strong red hand into the bag of oatmeal, and thenproceeded to stir the porridge, while the old woman brought wooden bowlsand a dish of goat's milk. 

They ate their meal in silence, each eyeing the other with suspiciousglances of mutual hatred. Not until he had appeased his hunger didRoderic say more than a few casual words. Elspeth felt herself in hispower, for she was alone, a frail and weaponless old woman against astrong healthy man, whose sword might at any moment be flashed forth toher destruction. She waited, anxiously hoping that Aasta would soonreturn with the wolf. 

"And now, Elspeth Blackfell, " said he at last, as he tossed his emptybowl into a corner, "you would know my reason for coming back to Bute, eh? Need you ask it? It is, in the first place, that I may bring my boldnephew Kenric to his account. I am, as you know, a poor defeatedwarrior. I am tired of battling; I would rest myself awhile. My latesovereign King Hakon of Norway is dead. To Alexander of Scots must I nowturn for protection. 'Tis true he has made me an outlaw; but what ofthat? Bute is mine, Gigha is mine, and Alexander can ill afford to keepme his enemy. I will turn young Kenric from my lands which he usurps, and I doubt not all will yet go well with me. "

"Methinks, " said Elspeth, "that you will find it no easy matter to turnmy lord Kenric from his seat, for Alexander loves him right well, andhas assured him of his fullest protection. "

"I care not that much for Alexander or Kenric, " said Roderic, snappinghis fingers. "Think you that I mean to wander about, a homelessvagabond, as I have wandered these few weeks past? Not so; Kenric shalldie, and by fair means or foul I shall take his place. "

Roderic here stood up to his full height and faced the old woman. 

"And now, as to my second motive in returning hither, " said he; "it isto have some words with you --a y, you, Elspeth Blackfell -- concerningthe false prophecy you made me. When, as I landed over at St. Ninian'sthree moons ago, with my gallant warriors, I besought you in yourwitchery to tell me the true issue of our invasion, you told me --false-tongued hag that you are -- that if the first blood that was drawnshould be that of a man of Bute, then my Norsemen should be victorious;and if it was that of a Norseman, then the Scots should win the fight. And I believed you. Now it was a lad of Bute that gave the first blood, and yet the Scots are free and the Norsemen are utterly defeated. Explain me this, thou harridan. "

"My lord, " said Elspeth, rising and putting the fire between them, "listen to me. What I said at that time may indeed seem passing strange. But though I claim no power, as you mistakenly think, to see into thefuture, yet nevertheless the words I spake have come true. "

"True? How so?" cried he, handling his sword. 

"The youth you slew, my lord Roderic, was not of Bute, " said Elspethwith a trembling voice. "Ah! you look with surprise! But wait. You knewnot what you did; you knew not who it was that you so wantonly slew. "

"What mean you? Who then was this youth? Of what land was he, and whatwas his name?"

Elspeth paused and stepped nearer. 

"His name, my lord, was Lulach, and he was the son of Roderic MacAlpinand Sigrid the Fair. "

"You lie, vile witch, you lie!" cried Roderic, recoiling as he heard herwords, and pressing his hands to his brow. 

"Not so, " said Elspeth, "the youth you then slew was indeed your own son. "

"God forgive me!" murmured Roderic, sinking to his seat and burying hisshaggy head in his hands. "Oh, Lulach, Lulach! my son, my son!"

"Well may you weep, my lord; but methinks your punishment is full welldeserved. Better had you obeyed our good abbot, and gone upon the holypilgrimage; better still had you remained content upon your isle ofGigha, and never sought, in your ambition, to wrest from your brotherHamish the larger inheritance that you coveted. But you slew our goodEarl Hamish; you slew his son Alpin. Blame now yourself alone in thatyour folly led you to slay also your own son Lulach. 'Twas an evil gameyou played, my lord, and your punishment is just. "

"Taunt me no more, " said Roderic sullenly. "Taunt me no more. But tellme, if it indeed be that my boy is dead -- my dear son Lulach, whom Imight have loved all these years had I but known he could be found --tell me, when came he into Bute?"

"Long years ago, my lord, when he was but a child, and at the time whenyou were roving the seas in pursuit of Rapp the Icelander. Had you, instead of following your life of plundering, but come as a friend andbrother to Earl Hamish, it may be that you might have found your boy. 'Twas not for me to seek you out, or to send Lulach to the home of afather who was no better than a murdering pirate. The lad was happierwhere he was, even though he lived the life of a poor thrall. "

"Alas! so near, so very near!" murmured Roderic. "And I believed thatthe kelpie had carried off my bairns, while all the time it was but afew brief miles of sea that divided us!

"My bairns? Ay, there were two. And the other -- the girl -- what ofher? What of my sweet, blue-eyed Aasta?"

"Aasta? She, my lord, is still in life. "

"In Bute?"

"Ay, even in Bute. "

"God be thanked for that!" sighed Roderic. "There is yet some happinessin store for me. Where is she? Where may I see her?"

"This very day may you see her, my lord. Tonight the good abbot of St. Blane's holds the festival of the New Year. Aasta will be within thechapel. "

"Alas! but I cannot show my face in the company of men, " said Roderic. "I am in hiding as an outlaw, and I am alone and ill-defended. "

"Be, then, upon the headland of Garroch at the midnight hour, " saidElspeth. "Wait there, my lord, and I will send to you either Aastaherself or else a messenger who will tell you all you may wish to know. "

"Right so, " said Roderic; "at midnight on the Garroch Head. "

"And now I beg you, Earl Roderic, go hence from this cave. Go hence toyour boat and remain there in hiding; for if it be that the maid, whoknows you not as her father, should learn of your presence in Bute, yourplans will most surely be frustrated. "

"I will obey you, Elspeth, " said the outlaw, rising. 

And forthwith he left the cave. 

Elspeth followed him to the heights and watched him journeying southwardthrough the trees. Then when he was out of sight, she went back to thecave and sat down, meditating how she might prevent the meeting she hadplanned and turn the appointment to a very different account. 

She waited for Aasta to return, intending to send the maid at once toRothesay to warn Earl Kenric that his outlawed uncle was in the island. But as Aasta did not appear before midday, Elspeth took her cloak andstaff and prepared to go herself to the castle. 

She was putting some new fuel upon the fire, when the curtain at thecave's entrance was drawn aside, and there she saw Kenric himself. Hewore an otter skin cap that covered his ears, and a great cloak ofsheepskins. 

"Give you good day, my lord, " said the old woman, her eyes brighteningas she offered him a seat beside the fire. 

"Knew you ever so cold a day as this, Elspeth? By the rood, but thefrost bites keenly! And you, how can you live in this cold cell? Itgrieves me to see you here. Better it were that you came to bide in ourcastle -- you and Aasta. This is no place for a dog to live in in frostyweather. Where is Aasta? 'Twas her I came to see, for I hear that shehas news from Gigha. "

"News indeed, Earl Kenric. But not alone from Gigha. Roderic is even inBute. "

"In Bute! When came he?"

"Even this morning he was here in this cave. And he has come hither todo you injury, my lord. "

"Doubtless; for when came he to Bute with other intent? Where can I findhim?"

"That will I soon tell, " said Elspeth, "and glad I am that so littletime has been lost. You will find him, my lord, at midnight on theGarroch Head. Take with you your sword of Somerled, and meeting him, send him speedily to his deserved death. You will not fail. If what Ihear of your increased prowess with your weapon be true, assuredly youare now a match even for Roderic MacAlpin. "

"What takes him to Garroch at that dread hour?"

"It is that he expects to meet Aasta. "

"Aasta?"

"Even so, my lord. "

"And wherefore should Roderic have aught to do with the maid?"

"You well may ask, " said Elspeth, "and it is not willingly that I wouldhave them meet. But 'twas the only plan I could devise for getting himfrom my presence and bringing him to a place where you, my lord, mayencounter him. As to Aasta, of her and of Roderic I have somethingstrange to tell. "

Kenric looked up at Elspeth in surprise. 

"You are young, my lord, " she continued, and you know not the thingsthat have been. But I am old. Not always has it been with me as you seeme now. Time was, my lord, when I, who am now a poor infirm woman, decried as a witch, despised of men, was a fair and joyous young maid. My father was a king --"

"A king?" echoed Kenric. 

"Even so. And he had his castle under the Black Fell that is in far-offIceland. Men named me Elspeth White Arm, and my lord and husband wasalso a king. He was the noblest and truest of all the monarchs of theNorth, and he was the lord over the Westermann Islands. We had onechild, and we named her Sigrid the Fair. "

"Elspeth, Elspeth, What is this that you are saying?" cried Kenric, partly guessing what was to come. 

"Sigrid was a wild and self-willed child, " the old woman continued, fixing her blue eyes on Kenric, "but I loved her well. And on a time --'tis a full score and four years ago -- she disappeared, and we couldfind her nowhere, until my lord went out upon his ship and boarded thegalley of a bold viking of the south whose name was Rudri Alpinson, or, as the Scots called him, Roderic MacAlpin. On Roderic's galley wasSigrid found; but she would not return, for she loved this man Rodericpassing well, knowing little of his evil heart. My lord, in trying towin her back, was slain by Roderic's hand, and thereupon Roderic carriedaway my child as his willing captive to his island home in Gigha. Therehe made her his wedded wife. But not long had my lord been dead, notlong had his younger brother taken his place as ruler in our land, whenmy heart so yearned for my fair Sigrid that I took ship and came southin search of her. By chance I landed upon your father's isle of Bute, for it was of Bute that Roderic had spoken as the home of his fathers. 

"The ship that brought me hither was the ship of my brother, Rapp theIcelander. Him I bade go over to Gigha and fulfil for me my vengeanceupon my enemy Roderic, and rescue my daughter. But the people secretlytold him that Roderic had been cruel to Sigrid, and that her love forhim had vanished as the morning mist. My child had lost her reason, andin her mad despair she had gone out one day and cast herself from thecliffs into the sea. Now Sigrid had left two children, and it was saidthat they were unhappy. So Rapp, searching for them, with intent tocarry them off and bring them to me that I might be revenged upon theirfather, found them one day playing in a great rock tunnel in Gigha. "

"I know the place, " said Kenric; "'twas there that Aasta --"

"'Twas there that Rapp the Icelander found Earl Roderic's bairns, andfrom thence he carried them off. Those bairns, my lord, were Aasta theFair and the boy Lulach. "

"Aasta? Lulach?" cried Kenric in astonishment, as he rose and began topace the rocky floor. "And they were brother and sister? And they werethe children of Roderic -- my own cousins? This is a strange thing thatyou are telling me, Elspeth, and I can scarce believe it!"

"'Tis none the less true, my lord, " said Elspeth. 

"And Lulach -- it was then his own father who slew him! And it was herown father whom Aasta fought against at Largs!"

"Even so. And pity 'tis that she did not kill him. "

"Pity indeed, " said Kenric. "And now you say that Roderic is in Bute?"

"He is here with intent to slay you, Earl Kenric, in some such subtleway as he slew your good father. But I have told you where he will be atmidnight. Go thither, I charge you, and take the Thirsty Sword thatAasta gave you. And may the blood of our enemy Roderic be the last thatit will drink. "

 CHAPTER XXX. THE BLACK FROST ON ASCOG MERE. 

Kenric took old Elspeth back with him to Rothesay, and there, as shewould not agree to take up her quarters within the castle, he gave her alittle cottage, bidding her remain there in comfort for the rest of herdays. As to Aasta the Fair, he had no doubt in his mind that on beingtold that she was his own cousin, she would yield to him when he askedher to make the castle of Rothesay her home, and he at once besought hismother to make preparations to receive her. 

Late in the evening, the moon being at the full, Allan and AilsaRedmain, with Margery de Currie, set out, attended by two armed guards, for the chapel of St. Blane's, where midnight mass was to be celebratedfor the dying year. 

Kenric, less cheerful than his three companions, went with them but alittle distance. Leaving them to continue their way through the dingleof Lochly, he branched off eastward towards Ascog. He wended his wayacross the bare hard land, walking with rapid strides, for the night wasbitterly cold, and the wintry wind made his cheeks tingle as he bentbefore it. Under his sheepskin cloak that he held close about his body, he carried his terrible sword. 

He kept to the leeward shelter of the rising ground, but at times he wasobliged to cross the ridges of the bare hills, and there the wind, sweeping over the wide moonlit firth, was like the cutting of knifeblades upon his face. His breath, that gathered as dew upon the down ofhis upper lip, was turned to beads of ice. The streams and pools ofwater had shrunk into solid icy masses, and the earth was unyielding asgranite rocks. 

Still keeping to the uplands, he at length entered into the woods ofAscog, and walked among the dark trees until he stood above the steeppath leading downward to Elspeth's cave. He descended by the slipperyground, holding on by the dry tree branches. 

At the mouth of the cave he stood awhile, stamping his feet that hemight be heard. But there was no response. He drew aside the stiff hidecurtain and looked within. All was black, cold desolation. 

"Aasta? Aasta?" he called. But no voice answered him. 

He went inside the cave and felt about for the place where he had seenElspeth leave the flint and steel. He lighted a rush candle and lookedabout him. Everything was as he had left it a few hours before. Aastahad not returned. He found, here a little cap, made of gay feathers andsquirrel fur, that Aasta was wont to wear; and there a necklace ofbright-hued seashells. In a corner there was a pair of small slippers, trimmed with odd bits of coloured silk, and lined with white hare skin, and beside them a girdle of crimson leather. 

He looked upon these objects with strange reverence, but did not dare totouch them. 

Then he went to the cave's entrance and stood with his shoulder leaningagainst the rock, and looking dreamily across the Clyde towards Largs. It was still two hours before midnight, and believing that he was soonto encounter his enemy Roderic in a hand-to-hand combat, he felt agloomy, melancholy spirit come upon him. If Roderic should overcome himin the fight, how would it be with the people of Bute? They would neverbe happy under the tyrannical rule of the bold sea rover. What wouldbecome of his mother? She would have to leave the castle of Rothesay, and perhaps return, desolate and alone, to England. Sir Allan Redmain, who was now the steward of Bute, would never bend before the man who hadbrought so much misfortune upon the island. And Aasta, what of her?Would she, who had nursed a hatred against Roderic more bitter even thanKenric's, would she ever recognize this man as her father, however kindhe might be to her? No, no. Kenric knew not a man or woman in all theland who would welcome his uncle as their king. No evil could befallthem greater than this. 

But if Roderic should fall in the fight, there might follow many, manyyears of peace and happiness in Bute. Kenric pictured what thathappiness might be. He pictured his people living in safe prosperity, with thriving commerce and fruitful farms; himself ruling, with whatwisdom or justice he possessed, over a contented and law-abiding people-- his mother living to a ripe and happy old age in Rothesay Castle. SirAllan Redmain, his trusty steward and loved friend, would be wedded toMargery de Currie. Aasta would be happy too; he would love her always ashis very dear cousin, and who could tell but that some day, when all herpast troubles were forgotten, she might marry some great and goodnobleman of Scotland, who would restore her to such dignity as she deserved?

There was another of whom, deep in his heart, Kenric thought verytenderly, and that other was Ailsa Redmain. Both he and she were yetyoung to think of such matters, but he loved her right well, and in afew years' time he might even follow the example of her brother Allanand take unto himself a wife. And if Ailsa would yield to him -- But hechecked himself in his dreams. All this possible good fortune mustdepend upon the issue of his encounter with Roderic. 

Standing there at the mouth of the cave, he felt the sharp frostpenetrating his limbs, and he turned away. 

Regaining the higher ground he began to run, and soon his feet grewwarm. Slackening his pace, he walked down towards Ascog Loch, listeningthe while for the sounds of Aasta's footsteps. Elspeth had told him thatthe maiden would surely return to the cave two hours before midnight. But she had not come. Had some disaster overtaken her? Whither had she gone?

The story that Elspeth Blackfell had told him had sunk deep in his mind. It explained many things that had before been mysteries to him. He sawin it an explanation of why he had been drawn in affection towardsAasta, and why, in spite of her having been a bondmaid, he hadrecognized that she was of gentle blood. He was glad that he had givenher freedom from her thralldom. And now he thought of how she hadbestowed upon him the great sword of his noble ancestor, and reflectedthat king Somerled was in truth Aasta's ancestor no less than his own. How sweet it was to think of the journey he had gone with her over toGigha, the home from which as a child she had been carried off withLulach! It was easy now to understand how she had recognized that rocktunnel through which the little coracle had been paddled. Aasta hadthought that she had but seen the place in a dream vision, but haply shehad many a time played among those rocky caverns in her infant days. 

And now he was going forth with intent to kill Aasta's father, believingthat to be the only means by which Aasta's happiness and the welfare ofhis people of Bute and Gigha could be secured. Aasta herself had triedto slay this man; she had fought with him upon the ships at the siege ofRothesay; she had engaged with him hand to hand in the battle of Largs. She did not then know that Roderic was her own parent; but Roderic haddone nothing that could have power to change his daughter's hatred intolove, and even if she were now restored to him, would she ever forgivehim the injuries he had done?

Kenric turned this question over in his mind, wondering if Aasta wouldblame him if it should be that he brought her father to his deathwithout first allowing her to speak with him, and for this reason he wasill at ease. But Aasta was nowhere to be found, and Kenric wellunderstood what ills might follow if he missed this chance that ElspethBlackfell had afforded him of encountering his dread foe. 

He was presently upon the shore of Ascog Mere, whose surface was nowfrozen over with thick clear ice. The black frost of the past night andday had taken into its firm grip the waters of every lake and torrent inthe island. Even the distant murmur of the waterfalls of Arran washushed into silence now, and all around was deathly still. The wind hadsunk into a whisper and the few fleecy white clouds up above glided likeghosts across the deep-blue sky. High over the snowy peaks of the Arranmountains the full moon shone like a great silver shield and cast itsradiance upon the glassy surface of the lake. The wintry night wasalmost as light as day, and every rock and tree stood out distinct andblack. 

Kenric left the uneven ground and stepped upon the thick strong ice, which was so clear at the edge that he could even see the shadowy reedsbelow. He walked outward with steady steps, and bent his coursesouthward in the shimmering track of the moon's light. The lake was verydeep, but Kenric had no fear, for the ice was many inches thick and hisfoothold was sure. 

As he reached the middle of the lake, where no sound came to him but theregular tread of his soft hide shoes and the tinkling ring of the ice, afeeling of awe came over him. He solemnly remembered that it was thelast hour of the passing year -- it might also be his last hour uponearth. He was not afraid; but the deadly silence, the wan light of themoon, the piercing cold, his lonely situation upon that shining stretchof ice, and his knowledge that he would soon be engaged in a mortalcombat, whose results must determine so much for himself and for hispeople, oppressed his mind very strangely; nor could he dismiss from histhoughts the surprising things that he had heard that day concerningAasta the Fair. 

Suddenly, as he looked before him towards the shore that he wasapproaching, he was startled at seeing a black shadow upon the ice. Itwas as though some human being were lying there. He saw the figure move. Slowly, stealthily it crept towards him. Kenric stood still, taking offhis fur gauntlets and putting his hand to his sword. Then the figurecrept more rapidly. Nearer and yet nearer it came. He saw now that itwas a large animal. Its glistening eyes and long legs showed that it wasa wolf. 

He drew his sword and went to meet it. The wolf growled as in hungryanger, and crouched down as though preparing to spring upon him. Kenricraised his sword to strike, the wolf bounded forward, and as his weaponwas about to descend upon its head the animal swerved. The moon's lightrevealed a white patch of hair upon its breast. 

Kenric staggered backward, unwilling now to strike. 

"Aasta!" he cried. "Aasta? The werewolf?"

At the same moment he loosed his grip of the sword, and the weapon, impelled by the force his arm had given it, flew from his hand, andfalling upon the slippery ice skated along for many yards, making anoise like the chirping of a vast flock of finches. 

Kenric stepped back yet further and stood ready to meet the wolf, and, if need were, grapple with it. But the animal, startled at the soundmade by the sliding sword, ran off towards the shore and quicklydisappeared among the shadows of the trees. 

What was the meaning of that wolf being there upon the ice? Kenric stoodin confused wonderment. And if, as he half supposed, this white-breastedanimal was not as other wolves, which fear to tread on ice -- if it wasin very truth the werewolf form which the wild Aasta had power toassume, why had she not recognized him? Why had she run away? Was itthat she had now taken to the cover of the woods, that she mightpresently reappear in her own maidenly figure? There was something inall this that passed his understanding. 

He followed a few paces in the direction taken by the wolf, then, remembering his sword, he turned aside. He looked about upon the clearicy surface for his weapon. The force that his arm had given it had sentit far away towards the margin of the mere, to the same spot, indeed, where the werewolf had first been seen. At last he saw the shining bladelying in the midst of the line of light shed by the bright moon upon thepolished ice. 

He went towards it and bent down to pick it up. The ice where it lay wassmooth and transparent as a sheet of glass, and it seemed to Kenric ashe bent over it that he saw in it the reflection of his own face. Sodistinct were the features that he recoiled in sudden alarm. Then hefell down upon his knees, resting upon his outstretched hands. He fixedhis astonished eyes upon the face in the ice. A wild cry escaped him. The face was not his own!

Drawing back for a moment he looked once more at the strange image. Therounded cheeks were white as snow; the eyes were motionless and glassy;the beautiful bloodless lips, slightly parted, revealed a row of pearlyteeth. It was the face of Aasta the Fair. 

Kenric tried to touch her, to take her in his arms. But the interveningice inclosed her as in a crystal casket. He saw that the stray locks ofher long hair, floating in the clear water, had been caught by the quickfrost, and that they were now held within the firm thick ice. Upon herfair white throat there were marks as of a man's rough fingers. She heldher right hand upon her breast, and in its grasp there was a long sharpdirk. 

Kenric rose and stood looking down upon the beautiful form of the deadgirl. He was as one who had been stunned by a terrible blow. For manyminutes he stood there mute and motionless, with folded hands and bowedhead. Soon a snowy cloud passed before the moon and cast a dark shadowupon the ice. The imprisoned image seemed to melt away. Yet Kenric knewthat what he had seen was no illusion, but that Aasta the Fair laylifeless in her frost-bound tomb. 

Then Kenric thought of his enemy -- who was surely Aasta's enemy evenmore than his own -- and he gripped his sword. 

"I will come back, " he murmured sadly as he cast once more a lingeringglance upon the now indistinct figure beneath the ice. "I will comeback, Aasta. And now, a truce to all fear. Let me now meet this man andslay him, for there is no one who can now mourn for his death. It isright that he should die, for the hour of retribution has surely come!"

 CHAPTER XXXI. THE LAST DREAD FIGHT. 

Not long was Kenric in covering the few miles between Loch Ascog andGarroch Head. He feared to be too late, for it was already but one shorthour before midnight. But his limbs were cold, and he had therefore adouble reason for running. Soon, instead of being too cold he becameover-hot; his heavy sheepskin cloak oppressed him, and he threw it off, leaving it lying upon the ground. Thus relieved, he slung his swordunder his arm and ran on and on past the silent farmsteads, over hardploughed fields and bare moorland, past the desolate Circle of Penance, and past the little chapel of St. Blane's, where many islanders werealready gathered to join in the New Year service. Then for another shortmile beyond the abbey he hastened, until from the rising ground he camein sight of the murmuring, moonlit sea. 

Now he slackened his pace to a brisk walk, and skirting the line ofcliffs he presently came upon the rocky headland of Garroch. 

His whole body was in a warm glow; his breath came regular and strongfrom the depths of his broad chest. He felt himself better fitted forbattle, more powerful of limb than he had ever done before, and neverhad he entered into combat with a fuller sense of the justice of theapproaching encounter. 

He looked about the bald headland to left and right, but Roderic was notyet to be seen. Kenric's heart sank within him in anxiousdisappointment. But as he approached the extreme angle of the cape, hesaw a tall cloaked figure appear from behind the shelter of a dark rock. 

Roderic came slowly towards him, blowing his warm breath into his cold, crisped fists. Kenric's face was in shadow, and the outlaw did notrecognize him. 

"So, " said Roderic, "Elspeth Blackfell has not this time deceived me, eh? 'Twas she who sent you here, young man?"

"It was, " Kenric replied. 

"And how happens it that she sent not the maid Aasta?"

"'Twas beyond her power, Earl Roderic, " answered Kenric in a quiveringvoice. 

"What?" cried Roderic surlily, "beyond her power? Tell me no lies. Theold crone is but playing some witch's trick upon me. Where is mydaughter, I say? where is my child?"

"Aasta the Fair, Heaven rest her soul! now sleeps beneath the cold iceof Ascog Loch, " said Kenric solemnly; "she is dead. "

A sudden hoarse cry from Roderic followed these words. 

"Dead?" he echoed, "dead, you say, and under the ice of the loch?"

"Even so, " replied the youth, keeping his eye fixed upon Roderic'smovements. "'Tis but a little time since that I saw her lying in thefrozen waters. "

Roderic staggered back a pace, wildly. He tugged at the neck of hiscloak as though it were stifling him. 

"Ah, God forgive me!" he wailed. "Alas, 'twas she -- 'twas then my ownchild who so wildly attacked me yesternight! 'Twas my own Aasta who soboldly fought against me at Largs. 'Twas she whom I took captive in myship from Rothesay. And 'twas she also who cursed me over at Barone --ay, cursed her own father! Great God, the curse has come true! For myown two children have been slain before my eyes -- first Lulach, thenherself -- and I their father slew them both!"

"What means this?" cried Kenric, growing pale in the moonlight andgrasping his sword. "You slew Aasta? you? Oh, villain!"

"Ah, that voice! methinks I know it, " said Roderic, starting in surpriseand turning upon Kenric. "So then 'tis you, young Kenric, that is DameElspeth's messenger? Much do I thank her for so promptly helping me. BySt. Olaf, but this is most fortunate. Ha! no need have you to draw yoursword. It will serve you no purpose now. As well might you seek to moveGoatfell as think of holding your own against Roderic MacAlpin. "

But Kenric, learning thus how Aasta had come by her terrible fate, felthis craving for battle grow stronger. He spoke no word, but stood withhis naked weapon ready in his hands. 

Roderic threw off his heavy cloak and drew his sword. The moonlightshone in his fierce eyes as he looked upon the strong young form of hisantagonist. 

From the shore at the foot of the cliff came the mournful sighing of therising tide. For a few moments the two warriors faced each other insilence. Then like a pair of rival stags they stamped their feet uponthe frozen ground. Roderic tried to get Kenric round with the moonlightupon him. But Kenric stood firm as a rock. Their weapons crossed, scraping each upon the other, pressing easily to right and left, andalways touching. Then Roderic made a sudden step backward; the swordswere point to point. Swiftly, at the same instant, each raised hisweapon above his head, grasping its handle with his two strong hands, and flinging it back till his elbows were on a level with his crown. 

They rushed together, each taking two steps forward. Their two swordsswished through the air; but Kenric's glanced aside with a quickmovement of his strong wrists, and caught Roderic's weapon in mid-bladewith a ringing clash. 

"Well guarded!" muttered Roderic grudgingly. "By the saints, but you areno weakling novice, young man, " and he stepped back again to recover. 

Now it was not without profit that, on that time many months before, Kenric had watched the fatal duel between Roderic and his brother Alpin, and he knew Roderic's invariable trick of aiming at his assailant'shead. His successful guarding of the first blow gave him confidence. 

Again the two combatants closed as before, tapping and scraping theirblades together; and again they flung back their arms. This time Rodericwas quicker in his onslaught, and he aimed from the right. But Kenric, instead of attempting to strike, promptly guarded his left andintercepted the blow as before. Ere Roderic could recover for a newattack, he felt a sharp cut across his bare neck. 

He roared in pain and fury, and sprang upon Kenric with redoubled force. The swords clashed together with mighty strokes. Roderic, amazed atKenric's skilful fighting, grew ever more rash in his attempts to smitehim down and conquer him by superior strength; while Kenric, with steadywatchful eye, marked every movement, coolly guarding each fearful blow, as though he knew as surely as did his assailant where Roderic intendedto strike. 

At last, completely baffled, Roderic paused, drew back, and rested thepoint of his long sword upon the hard ground. 

"To the death!" said Kenric solemnly, also lowering his weapon. 

"Ay, to your death be it, " returned Roderic, wiping the blood from hiswounded neck with his bare hand. Then again, breathing deeply, he tookhis ground. 

Clash, clash went their mighty swords once more as they closed togetherin their deadly combat. And now Roderic threw back his weapon with agreat swing, and bent his strong body to bring the blade down with afinal swoop upon Kenric's head. He made a furious spring forward. Hissword flashed in a half-circle, whizzing through the air with frightfulspeed. It was a blow that might have felled an ox. 

But the ponderous weapon met nothing until, slipping from his blood-wethand, it fell with a crash upon the hard ground. At the same momentRoderic uttered a groan. He staggered forward with his empty handsoutspread. He fell with a heavy thud upon his right shoulder, rolledover, and then lay stretched upon the turf with the point of Kenric'ssword buried deep in his heart. 

A deathly silence followed, broken only by the moaning of the sea wavesas they curled upon the beach. Kenric breathed a deep sigh. Withdifficulty he drew his terrible weapon from the breast of his dead foe. The Thirsty Sword had drunk its final draught. 

Carrying the weapon away, Kenric stood for many moments upon the extremepoint of the jutting headland overlooking the open sea. Taking the Swordin his two hands he swung it in a sweeping circle about his head, andstepping forward flung it far out into the frosty air. 

Away it sped like a well-aimed arrow. The moonbeams flashed upon thebright blade as it turned in its descent, hilt downward, and plunged forever deep, deep into the sea. 

Then Kenric stood awhile with clasped hands, looking far across to theArran fells, whose snowy mantles glanced like silver under the silentmoon. From the distance behind him he heard the faint tinkling of thechapel bell, telling him that the old year, with its turmoil andtrouble, was at its end; and he dropped down upon his knees and coveredhis face with his hands. 

It was scarcely half an hour after midnight when Kenric walked towardsthe arched doorway of St. Blane's chapel. As he drew near he saw the dimlight within, shining through the narrow windows of coloured glass, andhe heard the solemn murmur of prayer. He was about to enter when a handwas suddenly laid upon his shoulder. 

"'Tis you, my lord?" said the voice of Elspeth Blackfell. "Then it mustsurely be that you have fought and vanquished. God be thanked! I fearedthat it had gone ill with you, for I found your cloak lying upon theheath. Where is the villain Roderic?"

"Roderic is no more!" answered Kenric, taking his cloak from her hands. "And now I go within the chapel to give thanks to God, in that He hathdeigned to make me the instrument of His vengeance. "

"Stay. Ere you enter, tell me, my lord, have you news of my dear Aasta?She has not yet been seen: nor has our watch-wolf Lufa been found. Alas!I fear me the wild maid has gone off to Gigha. "

"Not so, " said Kenric. "But come with me within the chapel, goodElspeth, and when the service is over I will tell you all. "

He gently pushed open the door and drew Elspeth with him. They stoodthere, looking in at the many rough islanders with their heads bent indevotion. The sonorous voice of the venerable abbot resounded in thevaulted aisle. The cruse lamps hanging from the high rafters shed theirdim light upon the bare stone walls, where branches of red-berried hollywere entwined with tufts of larch and spruce and sprays of mistletoe. The flickering light of many tapers shone upon the embroidered vestmentsof the abbot and the gorgeous altar cloth. 

Presently the prayer ended; the people rose with shuffling feet. SirAllan Redmain from his seat in front of the altar looked anxiously roundtowards the door, as he had done many times during that service, insearch of Kenric. He now saw the bent figure of Elspeth Blackfell, andbehind her the young king. 

As Kenric, leading Elspeth forward, walked slowly up the aisle, Allandid not fail to notice that his sword was not in its accustomed place. The abbot paused until Earl Kenric had taken his seat between Sir AllanRedmain and Ailsa. 

Kenric caught. Ailsa's hand and drew it gently to him. He looked downinto her eyes as she turned to smile upon him. Then from the choir ofwhite-robed friars there rose the chant of the /Gloria in Excelsis/, swelling full and strong. To Kenric, as he stood by Ailsa's side, thewords came with a deep prophetic meaning -- "Gloria in excelsis Deo, etin terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis. "

And on that first early dawn of the new year, as he left the holy placeto return to his ancestral home, he repeated them again, looking roundhim on the land for which his sword had won tranquillity:

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace towards men of goodwill. "