Standing there at the mouth of the cave, he felt the sharp frost penetrating his limbs, and he turned away.

Regaining the higher ground he began to run, and soon his feet grew warm.  Slackening his pace, he walked down towards Ascog Loch, listening the while for the sounds of Aasta’s footsteps.  Elspeth had told him that the 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 saw in it an explanation of why he had been drawn in affection towards Aasta, and why, in spite of her having been a bondmaid, he had recognized that she was of gentle blood.  He was glad that he had given her freedom from her thralldom.  And now he thought of how she had bestowed upon him the great sword of his noble ancestor, and reflected that 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 to Gigha, the home from which as a child she had been carried off with Lulach!  It was easy now to understand how she had recognized that rock tunnel through which the little coracle had been paddled.  Aasta had thought that she had but seen the place in a dream vision, but haply she had 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, believing that to be the only means by which Aasta’s happiness and the welfare of his people of Bute and Gigha could be secured.  Aasta herself had tried to slay this man; she had fought with him upon the ships at the siege of Rothesay; 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 had done nothing that could have power to change his daughter’s hatred into love, and even if she were now restored to him, would she ever forgive him the injuries he had done?

Kenric turned this question over in his mind, wondering if Aasta would blame him if it should be that he brought her father to his death without first allowing her to speak with him, and for this reason he was ill at ease.  But Aasta was nowhere to be found, and Kenric well understood what ills might follow if he missed this chance that Elspeth Blackfell had afforded him of encountering his dread foe.

He was presently upon the shore of Ascog Mere, whose surface was now frozen over with thick clear ice.  The black frost of the past night and day had taken into its firm grip the waters of every lake and torrent in the island.  Even the distant murmur of the waterfalls of Arran was hushed into silence now, and all around was deathly still.  The wind had sunk into a whisper and the few fleecy white clouds up above glided like ghosts across the deep-blue sky.  High over the snowy peaks of the Arran mountains the full moon shone like a great silver shield and cast its radiance upon the glassy surface of the lake.  The wintry night was almost as light as day, and every rock and tree stood out distinct and black.