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

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

On the Kraken of Rothesay was Allan Redmain.  Right proud was he of his command, for even until the fifth week he had dreaded that he might not be of this expedition by reason of his being bound as watcher of the farmstead of Scalpsie.  Night by night, in starlight or rainstorm, he had duly fulfilled his unwilling charge, albeit he ofttimes slept through half the night, and it so befell that on each occasion that he had slept, on the next day thereafter the farmer claimed that he had lost yet another two or three of his ewe lambs, and Sir Oscar Redmain was perforce bound to make good the loss.

Now, as time went on this thing happened so often that Allan began to think strange thoughts, for never but on the first night of his watching had he seen aught of either wolf or fox.  Seeking for a reason, he found that on those nights that he had slept it was then that he had drunk deepest of the crafty farmer’s strong posset, and he was thereafter wary of that drink.  One night, having thrown the posset away without tasting it, he made pretence of sleeping, and as he lay there on the heather and watched with one eye open, behold the wolf came and carried off two young goats.

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

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

“If this be so,” said the young king, “then David Blair shall be severely punished, and you, Allan, shall be freed from this dog’s work at the next assize.  But methinks that long ere this you might have avoided this nightly watching.  Know you not of that custom of old time which holds that an offender against the laws shall be assoiled, or set free from all penalty, on producing the heads of two wolves that he has slain?  Now, why have you not brought me your wolves’ heads?”

“Alas!” said Allan, “I fear me that until the winter time comes there is but one wolf in all Bute, and that is the werewolf Aasta the Fair.  Would you that I should bring you that damsel’s head, my lord?”