Quickly she returned and followed the way Kenric had gone.  Soon she found herself under a high piece of ground that obscured the firelight.  Then nearer to the fire she heard the cry repeated, and she replied with the same call.  She went towards the fire until she saw Kenric standing on the top of a high rock, outlined against the glow of light.  She knew him by his fisher’s cloak.  She saw him lie down flat and creep nearer and nearer to the edge of the rock.

Suddenly, between her and Kenric, she saw another figure appear and stealthily follow behind the young king with drawn sword.

Now Aasta had the faculty of being able to see in the darkness almost as well as in the daylight, and it took but a hurried glance to prove that he 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 the ground, drawing her dirk as she ran, and just at the moment when Harald of Islay was preparing to smite Kenric a blow that would have killed him, Aasta threw her hand over the young viking’s mouth, dragged him over, and then plunged her dagger into his heart.

So quickly did this happen that Kenric, intent upon seeing what was passing around the fire, was quite unconscious that Aasta had saved his life.  And Aasta never afterwards told a living being of the thing that she had done.

Leaving the body of Harald where it had fallen she followed Kenric yet nearer to the brink of the rock, until together they lay so near to the band of Norsemen that they could see their white teeth glisten in the firelight as they spoke.  The fire was built against the rock.  The warriors sat about it in a half circle.

Presently the men all rose to their feet to greet the arrival of the Norwegian monarch.  Kenric could now see faces that had been hidden before, and amongst them were those of Sweyn of Colonsay, Erland of Jura, and, to his surprise, even the renegade John of Islay.  None of the others did he know; but there were Magnus king of Man, Sigurd king of Lewis, John of Kintyre, and Henry the bishop of Orkney, with many more of the most trusted of King Hakon’s vassals.

Then came King Hakon himself, the tall, grim-visaged, despotic old monarch of the North, who, having reigned for six-and-forty years, had now determined to win for himself and his descendants the complete dominion over Scotland.

“And now, oh, noble lords and faithful friends,” said he when they were all seated, “now that we are assured of the adherence of all these outer isles of Scotland, it remains for us to arrange by what means our further conquests are to be made.  Our right trusty and noble Rudri is yet away.  But on his great help we may confidently rely in whatsoever course we pursue.  This alone does he ask, that the invasion of the isle of Bute shall be left entirely in his hands.  We do therefore order that Rudri, with five stout ships, shall sail hence in two days’