Slowly Aasta took out the fish and laid them on the grass. Yet no man spoke. She touched the nearest man on the elbow.
"Lend me your knife, my master, that I may gut the fish," said she boldly.
The man took out his knife, and as he handed it to her she saw his face and recognized Earl Sweyn of Colonsay.
One by one she took up the fish and slowly trimmed them on a flat stone, waiting in the hope of hearing the warriors speak.
"When holds King Hakon his council?" one presently asked of another.
"Tonight -- on Rudri's return," was the reply.
"And where?"
"Why, here on the heath, after sundown," said another. "'Tis no time for delay. Bute and Arran have yet to be conquered ere we assail the mainland of Scotland."
"Ay," said the first speaker, "methinks there will be few Scots left in Bute for the next moon to smile upon. Bairns, women, and men, they all are doomed!"
Aasta now began to work quicker -- so quickly that in a very few minutes the fish were all ready for cooking. Then taking her four bread cakes she slung the basket over her head and sauntered away.