word and smiting right and left
at those who tried to reach the horseman, Allan and Duncan in like
manner fighting with steady blows. And thus they pressed their way ever
farther into the ranks of the enemy, moving with Sir Piers, backward or
forward, and defending his left side as he slew his assailants on his right.

Kenric heard the gallant knight's panting breath growing weaker.

"To the other side, Duncan," he cried. And Duncan Graham worked round
behind the horse's tail to relieve Sir Piers of some of his foes who
pressed upon him. Not long had he changed his position when Kenric saw
the horse swerve and fall. A deep groan from Sir Piers was all that told
of the terrible wounds he had received.

The Norwegian chronicle recording this fight says that Sir Piers de
Currie was killed by a blow which severed his thigh from his body, the
sword cutting through the greaves of his armour and penetrating to the
saddle. Howbeit the brave Sir Piers was slain, and the man who slew him
was the outlaw Roderic MacAlpin.

Duncan Graham, seeing who had done this thing, at once closed with
Roderic, and the two fought with terrible vigour.

Now Duncan, ever since he had received that wound in his chest over at
Coll, had lost the power to raise his right arm above his head, and it
went ill with him. When Kenric, rushing to Sir Piers de Currie's right
side, first saw his enemy, Roderic was in the act of smiting a fearful
blow upon Duncan's bare and outstretched neck. Duncan fell, not even
uttering a groan, so speedily fatal was the blow he had received.

But above the clang of the battle and the thunderous surging of the
waves, there rose at this moment into the air a woman's cry of anguish.
It was the cry of Aasta the Fair.

Wearing the same coat of mail and helmet that she had worn at the siege
of Rothesay, and wielding a light broadsword, she had been fighting with
as fearless bravery as any man there present. She had cloven her way
through the battling men to the place where rose the towering head of
her lover Duncan, and arrived at his side at the very moment when the
sword of Roderic smote him down. Splashed with her lover's blood she
gripped her sword, nor paused to see if Duncan were indeed dead. She
leapt with a wolf-like howl upon Roderic MacAlpin, and so pressed him
with her blows that he stepped back and back.

The maid, though strong, was ill-trained in the use of the sword, and
her every blow was skilfully parried