Under the clear sky of high noon the people of Bute had assembled on the
great plain of Laws, at the margin of Loch Ascog. They had come from all
parts of the island, for the word had travelled round with the swiftness
of a bird's flight that their good king, Earl Hamish, had been cruelly
slain by his own brother, and all were eager not only to see the man who
had done this treacherous deed, but also to hear judgment passed upon
him for his crime.
At the foot of the great standing stone Sir Oscar Redmain, as steward or
prefect of Bute, took his seat as judge. Noble and comely he looked,
holding his great glittering sword, point upward, waiting for the
prisoner and his accuser. At his right stood Godfrey Thurstan, the good
abbot of St. Blane's, with his cowl drawn over his reverend head to
shield him from the warm sun. At his left Dovenald, most learned in the
laws of the land, ready to explain and discuss the ancient legal
customs; and round them in a circle were the others of the twelve
ruthmen. The witnesses or compurgators stood in an outer ring within a
fencing of cords running from stake to stake. Without the verge of the
sacred circle of justice were gathered a great crowd of islanders --
herdsmen and husbandmen, tribesmen, fishermen, and thralls -- who had
left their labours on hill and in vale, or on the sea, and come hither
crying out loud for speedy vengeance.
Duncan Graham the seneschal and his guards of the castle had already
gone amongst these onlookers to see that no man carried weapons, for it
was held in strict custom that none should bear arms or make disturbance
at such a time on pain of life and limb.
These hardy islanders, as they stood in silence, were a rugged set of
men, with sunburnt faces and bushy beards. Many of them were clothed in
garments of sheepskin, others of a better condition wore a plaid or
mantle of frieze. They had buskins made of rawhide, and a knitted
bonnet, though many of them wore no covering for their heads but their
own shaggy hair tied back with a leathern strap.
The assize being sworn and admitted the abbot stepped forward and called
upon the God of the Christians to punish the peace breaker. Then the
crowd opened and young Alpin came in, stalwart, handsome, noble, and
bowed before the judge.
He wore a mantle of tartan, clasped at the shoulder by a silver buckle.
His legs were swathed in fine cloth and cross-gartered below the bare
knees, and his feet were encased in brogues with silver clasps. His long
hair was well combed, and it hung about his broad shoulders in dark
brown locks. A deep hum of praise rose in greeting from many throats as
he stood in the light of the noonday sun.
"Hail to Earl Alpin, king of Bute!" cried one.
"Long life to the king!" cried another; and the cries were taken up by
the whole assembly, dying away in echoes among the far-off hills.
Then Alpin raised his hand and asked that the chain of silence should be
shaken; and when one of the guards had shaken the rattling chains and
all were listening with bated breath he took up and made his plea,
demanding prompt justice on the slayer of his father.
"And whom do you charge with this foul crime?" asked Sir Oscar Redmain,
though indeed none needed to be told.
"I charge Roderic MacAlpin, king of Gigha," said Alpin, and at that
there was a great yell of execration.
"Down with the traitor! Death to him!" was the cry as the crowd opened.
And Alpin turning round saw Duncan Graham -- taller by a head than the
tallest man there present -- leading in the criminal, followed by his
two companions of Colonsay and Jura.
In a moment Alpin sprang forward at his enemy. He raised his right hand
and all saw that he held the bloodstained knife.
"Die, slayer of the just!" he cried, bringing down the weapon upon
Roderic's breast.
But Roderic of Gigha laughed a mocking laugh, and catching Alpin by the
wrist he threw him backward. Duncan Graham broke his fall and tore the
weapon from his grasp.
"Oh, foolish lad!" he murmured, "to attempt such a thing within the very
fences of the court!"
"Alpin of Bute," said the judge gravely as he rose from his seat, "you
have done that which no other man in this land might do without the
severest punishment. You are here to plead the cause of justice, and not
to insult those whom you have summoned to this place to do justice for
you. Bear yourself discreetly, or resign your cause into the hands of
those who can control their wrath."
Alpin scowled as he again took his place before the judge, and then when
silence had been restored he proceeded to state the whole case
concerning the killing of his father.
By his side stood Kenric, who helped him when he faltered in his
narrative. The two brothers might almost have been mistaken for master
and serf, so much did their appearance differ. Kenric's face was
unwashed and streaked with the traces of tears. His brown hair, lighter
than Alpin's, was rough and tangled, and now, as always, he wore no
covering on his head. His coarse buckskin coat looked mean beside the
richer apparel of his brother, and his buskins were ill-tied and his
kilt was dusty and tattered. The elder brother was taller and more lithe
of body; but Kenric's bare arms and legs were thick and strong, and
despite his coarse clothing he bore himself no less nobly upright than
did Alpin.
"Roderic, son of Alpin, what have you to say in defence for this grave
crime whereof you are accused?" asked Sir Oscar Redmain when Alpin had
told his tale.
The two lads stepped back and Roderic took their place. His long golden
hair as the sunlight fell upon it shone scarcely less bright than the
well-wrought dragon that twined its scaled form upon his burnished helm
of brass. He looked towards his judge with bold defiance in his blue eyes.
"What the boy says is true," said he. "I slew my brother Hamish. I slew
him upon his own hearth stone. But it was in fair fight that I did it;
and I call my two friends, the lords of Jura and Colonsay, to bear me
out in the truth of what I say."
There was a loud howl of rage from the crowd as he spoke these false
words, and no one tried to stifle those outbursts of popular feeling.
"'Tis a lie you tell!" cried Kenric furiously as he pushed his brother
aside and confronted Earl Roderic. "You say it was in fair fight you
smote my father his death blow. Oh, perjured villain! Where, then, was
my father's weapon? Had he been armed with a knife such as the one you
used, methinks you would not now be here to utter your false words. Your
own arms were left in the armoury hail, where 'twas right they should
be; and you took up the knife from the board, knowing full well what you
meant to do with it. Oh, Roderic MacAlpin, may your tongue shrivel in
your throat ere you utter such base and wicked lies again! You came to
this island, the land of your fathers, with the evil purpose of climbing
over our dead bodies to the kingship that you covet --"
Roderic bit his lips with rage and doubled his great fists as he stepped
forward to smite young Kenric to the ground. Kenric drew back.
"I know it," continued Kenric with full and sonorous voice that might
have been heard at the further side of Ascog mere. "I know your purpose,
Roderic of Gigha. Think you that there are none of us that can
understand the Norse tongue in which you spake to your two base
comrades? /I/ know that tongue. I heard your craven moans of anguish
when you came out from that darkened hall wherein my father lay dead. I
heard you tell of how you meant to slay the vixen and her cubs. And who
are they? My mother and Alpin and me! My mother, whom you flattered with
soft speeches -- my mother, in whose presence you were not worthy to
breathe, and whose noble heart you have now broken by your murderous
treachery. And you would have slain her as you slew our father. I thank
the great God who stayed your hand from fulfilling such devil's work to
the end. May He punish you as you deserve to be punished for the evil
you have done!"
A deep silence followed upon this speech, and then a thousand lusty
voices broke out in a prolonged groan of imprecation. But Roderic of
Gigha only turned to Erland the Old and smiled.
Kenric looked to the crowd that stood behind the judge's seat, and there
he saw Ailsa Redmain standing with her brother Allan; and Ailsa's eyes
glistened with approval of what Kenric had just spoken, and he took new
courage.
"Men of Bute," said Sir Oscar Redmain, turning to the ruthmen, "ye have
heard what has passed. It is now for you to pronounce judgment upon the
accused man. What say you?"
"That Earl Roderic is guilty of the crime," said Ronald Gray, their
spokesman, "and that he shall pay the highest penalty that our laws can
impose."
"Then," said Alpin, "I claim that Roderic of Gigha shall die the death."
But at that the wise men shook their heads.
"In the time of my father, the good king Alpin," said Roderic with a
voice of triumph, "it was ordained, as all of you must surely know, that
no man should die for the slaying of his enemy unless he were caught
red-handed and with the weapon in his hand; but that for taking the life
of a man in hot blood he should be assoiled or cleansed on payment of
the eriach fine, which is nine score of kine, to the kin of his victim.
And I ask Dovenald Dornoch if this be not so?"
At this Alpin held speech with Dovenald the lawman, and his face grew
sullen in disappointment.
"Alas!" said Alpin to Sir Oscar, "what Earl Roderic hath said is indeed
true; for it seems that my grandsire, king Alpin, and also my father,
who is dead, did in their mercy so ordain that crimes of violence should
be dealt with in such manner that the traitor might have time in which
to repent of his ill deeds and commend himself to God. But for the
slaying of a king the fine is not nine score, but six times nine-score
of kine, or three thousand golden oras. And if that fine be not paid
within a year and a day, then shall the traitor die the death. And now,
oh men of Bute, since that I cannot see this man die -- as, would that I
might! -- I call upon him for the due payment of my eriach fine. And
moreover, oh judge, you and the wise men of Bute whom I see here present
are guarantees for the full payment, and you shall see that it be paid
within a year and a day."
Now this was far from being what Roderic wished, for well he knew that
no man in all the Western Isles would spare him if he failed to pay the
price of his liberty. But also he knew that neither in cattle nor in
other movable wealth was it in his power to pay the value of a thousand
head of cattle in so short a time. So he up and told this to Sir Oscar
Redmain.
"I cannot pay the fine," he said; "for not in all my lands and ships do
I possess such wealth nor know I any man who would be my broch, or bail."
"Then," said Sir Oscar, "if that be so, I now pronounce you an outlaw in
the Western Isles and in Scotland, and our sovereign lord, King
Alexander, shall ratify that sentence upon you forthwith. You shall be
an outlaw for the term of three years and three days. For those three
days you shall live within the sanctuary of Dunagoil and under the
protection of the good abbot of St. Blane's. On the third day, or
before, you shall take ship and depart hence whithersoever the holy
abbot shall direct you."
Then turned Sir Oscar to the crowd.
"Men of Bute," said he, "I charge you all that if within three years to
come any of you shall see this man Roderic MacAlpin within the isle of
Bute, or within his forfeited lands of Gigha and Cara, or in any other
land in the dominions of the King of Scots, you shall put him to the
sword and slay him."
There was a loud cry of assent; and Roderic, wrathful at his position,
felt at his side for his absent sword.
Here again were his plans defeated. The sentence passed upon him
required that during his three days of grace in the sanctuary of the
church lands no man should molest him or hold speech with him. How,
then, could he hope to compass the death of the two lads, Alpin and
Kenric, who stood in the way of his ambition? Turning his eyes with
fierce malice upon the two brothers he stepped boldly to the front.
"There is yet another way for me," he cried aloud. "Think you that I, a
king, am to be hunted about by a set of wolves like these? No, no. Now,
on this spot and before you all, do I claim wager of battle, for that is
my due. Let any man of you stand forth and meet me in fair fight, and I
will fight him to the death."
Then Duncan Graham, the seneschal, came forward in his towering height,
and said he:
"I will fight you, treacherous earl, for you deserve to die!"
"You!" exclaimed Roderic, awed at the man's giant height. "Not so. An
earl may hold such combat with none but his equals. I will not cross
swords with a low-born churl like you. Show me a man whose blood is
worthier of my steel."
"Coward!" cried Duncan; "you are afraid to cross arms with me. I would
slay you at the first passage."
"There is but one among you who is of my own rank," said Roderic, "and
there he stands;" and he pointed to Alpin.
"And I am ready," said Alpin. "I will engage with you to the death. And
God defend the right!"