“The saints forbid!” said Kenric.  “But bide your time and you shall be set free, and the more speedily since I intend that you shall come with us on our journey to the isles.”

Well, on that same day Earl Kenric went secretly over to the forest of Toward, in Cowall, with a few chosen men, and in the evening when Allan was setting forth for Scalpsie he found two great black wolves lying dead and bloody beside the granary of Kilmory Castle, and he cut off their 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 alive this morning and now are dead; and I cut off their heads with my own hands.  For this I claim my freedom.”

“Right so,” said Kenric smiling.  “You have well won your freedom, and so easily, that methinks it might even have been secured four weeks ago and more.”

And now Allan Redmain was made master of the Kraken galley, with four score of skilful archers under him.  And as the vessels sped down Kilbrannan Sound on this August morning he trod the deck with a proud firm step that made his long sword rattle in its sheath, and with his young heart beating quicker in anticipation of the battles that were before him.

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

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

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

The ships, sailing up the western shores, came at last into the harbourage of a calm landlocked bay, whose waters were so crystal clear that one might see the pebbles and sea urchins at the bottom, many fathoms deep.  So, when the anchors were all down a longboat was launched from the Dragon, and Kenric, with Sir Piers, Allan Redmain, and one William 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 ye who have brought them hither?”

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