Daughter of Henry the Third of England, and sister of Prince Edward -- who afterwards gave such trouble to the realm of Scotland -- Queen Margaret was at this time but one-and-twenty years of age. She was bright eyed and well featured, with a clear fresh complexion, and her every movement was of stately grace. She smiled upon Kenric with her sweet rosy lips, and bade him sit near her and tell her how his mother, accustomed to the life of the English court, contrived to live happily in so wild and dull a place as the little island of Bute. But Kenric in replying noticed only the coronet of pearls that the queen wore in her glossy hair, the surpassing whiteness of her neck and hands, and the rich splendour of her purple velvet gown.
Meanwhile the king had received Sir Piers de Currie.
"This young lord of Bute pleases us well, Ranza," said King Alexander, addressing the knight by the name of his castle; "and we doubt not that he will prove even as stalwart an adherent as his father, though, indeed, we had been better pleased had he been somewhat older. Take him under your care, Ranza, so that he may acquire some of your own skill at arms."
"Methinks, sire," said Sir Piers, "that there is little need of that, for since the death of Alpin, the lad's brother, there is none whom I could teach less to than young Kenric. A little more weight and strength, it may be, might serve him well. God alone can give him those. But of skill he requires no more than myself."
"Such praise from you is a recommendation that any man in Scotland might be proud of, Sir Piers," said the King. "But there is one thing more. Know you if the lad speaks the tongue of these Norse varlets of the isles?"
"Not speaking it myself, your Majesty, I am but a poor one to question on that matter."
The King then called Kenric to his side, and bade the young page Harald address him in his native tongue. At this the flaxen-haired lad leapt towards Kenric with glistening eyes.
"My good friend," said he in Norse, "be not alarmed at what I shall say. The King knows not a word of our tongue. Tell me, is it to set me free that you come hither? Do you come from my father?"
"Your father?" said Kenric. "I know not who your father may be. Methinks you make some strange mistake!"
"Alas!" said the lad, crestfallen, "then am I the most unhappy youth that ever lived! But stay; you come from Bute. I heard the King say so. You have come in your ship. I saw when you entered this room that you were an islander. My friend, I implore you to rescue me from the hands of these Scots. Take me away from this land, for I am well-nigh dying to breathe once more the free air of my island home, and to rove again upon the wide ocean. Say, will you help me to escape?"