And now, how fares
the young lord of Bute since he has lost his castles and lands?"
"My lord Kenric's castles and lands are in no wise lost to him," said
Aasta more boldly.
"How so? Not lost?" cried Roderic in surprise. "Where, then, is Thorolf
Sigurdson, whom I left as warden over my isle of Bute?"
"Thorolf Sigurdson, Heaven bless his honest heart! has gone home these
many weeks past to Benbecula, and taken his cowardly Norsemen with him."
"The traitor!" gasped Roderic. "And is the young Kenric again in
possession of my castle of Rothesay?"
"The castle of Rothesay was never yours, Earl Roderic, and never shall
be," returned Aasta firmly. "His Majesty of Scots hath given us full
protection, and for you to seek to remove Earl Kenric from his rightful
lordship were vain. If you value your life, my lord, go not near to
Rothesay."
"Your warnings are useless, bold maiden," said Roderic with a sneer. "To
Rothesay I will surely go, and Kenric, were he the strongest man in all
the isles, shall not prevent me from taking my own. I have sworn to
bring that whelp to his death, and by St. Olaf he shall die this very
night!"
Aasta drew nearer until she stood close enough to touch him. The light
of the moon shone upon her beautiful face, and Roderic, standing with
his back against the rock, thought that surely she was the fairest woman
his eyes had ever beheld.
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