The Norsemen scrambled on board from one vessel to its companions alongside. Kenric, followed by Aasta and a crowd of their Scots, waded deep into the water, still pressing behind the men of Jura and Islay. They even climbed upon the first galleys' decks, and there stood fighting for many minutes.

In the midst of this battling Kenric observed the viking's flag flying above the battlements. He called his men off the ships, and as they returned to the castle Roderic and some of his warriors passed round by the rear of the building and regained their vessels. The galleys were then pushed off into the deeper water, and not till they were afloat did Kenric realize that he had not for some minutes seen the brave girl Aasta. In truth, the maiden was at that time struggling on board one of the galleys with Roderic the Outlaw, who soon disarmed her and thrust her as a captive into the cabin of one of his ships.

Kenric returned to his castle, only to find that it had fallen entirely into the hands of the enemy, who had put the remainder of the garrison to the sword.

Utterly defeated, but himself scarcely wounded, the young lord of Bute rallied what men he could and drew them off to the high ground where Roderic had stood. The arrows of a few Norsemen from the battlements pursued him, and seeing that there was now no chance of regaining possession of his stronghold, he could only think of the safety of his people and try to protect them from the ravages of the victors. The villagers of Rothesay had already deserted their homes, which so far had remained unmolested, though sadly battered about by stray stones and other missiles.

And now did Kenric fully see the wisdom of what he had done in securing his helpless islanders under the safe keeping of the abbot of St. Blane's. Had he advised them to take refuge in the castle they would assuredly have fallen victims to the wanton swords of their enemies. Had he failed to act with prompt foresight upon the information gained in Gigha, the men of Colonsay, with other vengeful warriors, would have massacred every woman and child in the island, for such was assuredly their intent. Happily they had found every dwelling unoccupied, with its more valued contents safely removed; and though they had indeed brought many of those homesteads to the ground, yet the lives of the inhabitants were still secure.

It now remained for Kenric to assure himself that no prowling Norseman should by chance discover the place of refuge of those who had so timely abandoned their homes; and to this end he bade his remaining followers make pretence of taking shelter in the forest of Barone, whence they might move unobserved by the enemy to the south of the island and so guard the abbey of St. Blane's.

[CHAPTER XXV. THE GREAT NORSE INVASION.]

It were vain to look for good generalship in a time so remote as that of the reign of Alexander III. Wallace and Bruce had not yet appeared to teach the Scots the advantage of united action, and the methods of warfare were still of an unmilitary kind. Battles were little better than mere free fights, without order, without controlling discipline, without preconcerted plan. It may be that Kenric of Bute might, with a little more forethought in the disposal of his forces, have saved his castle from the hands of his enemies. But a lad of seventeen, with no better counsellors than a few peaceful men such as Sir Oscar Redmain and the Abbot Thurstan -- men inexperienced in the arts of war, and ill qualified to repel an invader or hold a castle against a siege -- what could he do? Sir Oscar Redmain was killed in the first engagement. The abbot was sufficiently occupied with the protection of his church lands, and the one skilful soldier who could have organized the defences -- Sir Piers de Currie -- was even now defending his own castle of Ranza against the forces of Margad.

Nevertheless, the manner in which Kenric defended the sacred buildings of St. Blane's redeemed the mistakes he had committed in a too great division of his forces at Rothesay. He protected the abbey lands from a possible approach of the enemy from the sea by stationing six of his ships, fully manned, at regular intervals along the south coast of the island from Glencallum Bay to the bay of Dunagoil. Thus disposed, the vessels formed a half-circle round the abbey and its demesnes. At Dunagoil he stationed a guard of five hundred men under Allan Redmain, with a like number in Glencallum, under Duncan Graham, ready at a moment's warning to form a connection across the neck of land. Within the walled inclosure known as the Circle of Penance, standing midway between these two stations, were two hundred other men under Kenric himself. Thus the abbey and its grange with some forty cottages were entirely surrounded.

The abbey with its chapel was a small building in the Norman style, inclosed by a high wall, and standing in a grove of birch and ash trees. In the crypt of the chapel and within the cottages the women of Bute, some hundreds in number, had made their retreat, and the Lady Adela of Rothesay had a most anxious four days attending to her numerous charges. Food there was in plenty, of a simple sort, and the wells within the abbey buildings provided abundance of pure water.