“On, on, my men!” he cried, turning to his followers.  “The first blood of our enemies hath been spilled!  On! on! the victory is sure!”

One by one the ships dropped anchor in the bay, and from each there poured a vast number of warriors carrying bows and battle-axes, swords and spears.  Behind their leaders, the terrible Rudri and the king of Man, 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 Sweyn of 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 the hosts advance.  Nearer and yet nearer they came.

“Steady, my lads, and take good aim,” he said coolly as he fixed an arrow to his bowstring.  “Now!” he cried, and as the enemy came within bow shot a shower of well-aimed arrows met them, and many men fell.  The shields of their companions bristled with the arrows whose flight they had stopped.  But the long-haired warriors pressed on to the castle gates, behind which stood Allan Redmain with half the garrison at his back.

From the hilltop of Barone, Aasta the Fair had watched the ships approaching from afar, and at the moment of first seeing them she clashed a flint and steel and promptly lighted a bundle of dry twigs and straw.  The signal fire was seen from Rothesay, and at once Earl Kenric, at the head of five score of men, marched across the island towards Kilmory.  But so quickly had the invaders landed, so speedily had they stormed the stronghold, that ere Kenric and his followers appeared upon the heights, the castle of Kilmory was in flames.

The Norsemen, taking their machines to the rear, had stormed the building at its weakest point.  The heavy missiles from their shot wagons soon succeeded in making a breach.  Then a detachment of Rudri’s men brought sheaves of new-cut corn and bundles of hay from the stackyard, and flinging them within the breach set them in flames.  The stout walls of oak very soon caught fire, and Sir Oscar Redmain and his archers on the towers speedily found themselves inclosed in clouds of smoke.  Their cries as they ran down the inner stairs and discovered the awful fate that awaited them were terrible to hear.

From the rear of the castle the Norsemen brought round their machines to the gates, and with their heavy battering rams they burst in the strong doors.  Some of Allan Redmain’s men rushed out, only to be cut down by the warriors who awaited them.  Twice did Allan call to his guards to follow him and cut their way through the barrier of swords and spears, and twice were they driven back into the burning castle.  A third attempt was made.  Allan valiantly encountered his foes, who now gave way, for at that moment they were attacked in their rear by the men of Rothesay.