surprise. "Am I, then, the only lord in all the isles who remains true
to his oaths of fealty? And are they all as you are, Roderic, who have
failed these many years to pay due tribute to the King of Scots?"

"You are the only one among us," croaked Erland the Old, "who pays not
homage to our rightful lord and sovereign the good King Hakon."

"I owe no sort of fealty to Norway," said Hamish. "Nor do I know by what
right Hakon claims sovereignty over any one of the isles south of Iona."

"Methinks," said Sweyn the Silent, looking up under his dark brows,
"that Harald Fairhair settled that matter a good four hundred years ago."

"Right well am I aware that at such time Harald did indeed conquer the
Western Isles -- ay, even to Bute and Arran" -- returned Earl Hamish.
"But methinks, my lord of Colonsay, that my own ancestor the great king
Somerled (God rest him!) did at least wrest the isles of Bute, Arran,
and Gigha from the power of Norway. Those three island kingdoms do to
this day owe truage to no overlord saving only the King of Scots, and to
Alexander alone will I pay homage."

At that Earl Roderic's eyes found their way to the shelf that was above
the hearth, and his two friends, following his glance, saw the knife
upon the shelf and smiled. From the halls below, where the guards and
servitors were feasting, came the strains of the minstrel's harp and a
henchman's joyous song of triumphant battle.

"'Tis then no marvel," said Roderic, "that the young King of Scots, like
his father before him, has made of you a willing cat's-paw. On what
fool's errand went you to Norway?"