In the old days, when the Romans were
taking Britain for their own, there lived in Cambria
a great prince called Heiri. He was forty summers
old; he had long been wed, but had no son to reign
after him. Many times had he fought with the
Romans, but his tribe had been driven slowly backward
to the northern mountains; here for a time he dwelt
in some peace, but the Romans crept ever nearer; and
Heiri, who was a brave and generous prince and a great
warrior, was sore afflicted, seeing the end that must
come. He dwelt in a high valley of moorland,
where his tribe kept such herds as yet remained to
them. Heiri often asked himself in what he and
his people had wronged the gods, that they should
be thus vexed; for he was, as it seemed, like a wild
beast with his back to a wall, fighting with innumerable
foes; to the north and east and south and west lay
great mountains, and behind them to west and north
lay the sea; to south and east the Romans held the
land, so that the Cambrians were penned in a corner.
One day heavy news came; a great army
of the Romans had come by sea to the estuary in the
south. The next day the scouts saw them marching
up the pass, like ants, in countless numbers, with
a train of baggage; and the day after, when the sun
went down, the watch-fires burnt in a long line across
the southern moorland, and the sound of the horns the
Romans blew came faintly upon the wind; all day the
tribesmen drove in their cattle up to the great camp,
that lay on a low hill in the centre of the vale.
Heiri held a council with his chiefs, and it was determined
that next day they should give them battle.
That night, when Heiri was sitting
in his hut, his beloved wife beside him, there came
to see him the chief priest of the tribe; he was an
old man, hard and cruel, and Heiri loved him not; and
he hated Heiri secretly, being jealous of his power;
he came in, his white priestly robe bound about the
waist with a girdle of gold; and Heiri rose to do
him honour, making a sign to his wife that she should
leave them. So she withdrew softly; then the
priest sat down. He asked first of Heiri whether
it was determined to fight on the morrow; and Heiri
said that it was so determined. Then the priest
said, “Lord Heiri, to-morrow is the feast of
the God of Death; and he claims a victim, if we are
to be victorious.” Now Heiri hated the sacrifice
of men, and the priest knew it; and so for a while
Heiri sat in silence, frowning, and beating his foot
upon the ground, while the priest watched him with
bright and evil eyes. Then Heiri said, “To-morrow
must many men, both valiant and timid, die; surely
that were enough for the god!” But the priest
said, “Nay, my lord, it is not enough; the law
saith that unless a victim should offer himself, the
priests should choose a victim; and the victim must
be goodly; for we are in an evil case.”
Then Heiri looked at the priest and said, “Whom
have ye chosen?” for he saw that the priests
had named a victim among themselves. So the priest
said, “We have named Nefri be content.”
Now Nefri was a lad of fifteen summers,
cousin to Heiri; his father was long dead, and Heiri
loved the boy, who was brave and gracious, and had
hoped in his heart that Nefri would succeed him as
prince of the tribe. Then Heiri was very wroth,
and said, “Lord priest, that may not be; Nefri
is next of kin to myself, and will grow up a mighty
warrior; and he shall be chief after me, if the gods
grant him life; look you, to-morrow we shall lose
many mighty men; and it may be that I shall myself
fall; for I have been heavy-hearted for many days,
and I think that the gods are calling me and
Nefri we cannot spare.”
Then the priest said, “Lord
Heiri, the gods choose whom they will by the mouth
of their priests; it were better that Nefri should
perish than that the people should be lost; and, indeed,
the gods have spoken; for I prayed that the victim
should be shown me, hoping that it might be some common
man; but hardly had I done my prayer, when Nefri came
to my hut to bring an offering; and my heart cried
out, ‘Arise, for this is he.’ The
gods have chosen him, not I; and Nefri must die for
the people.”
Then Heiri was grievously troubled;
for he reverenced the gods and feared the priests.
And he rose up, with anger and holy fear striving
within him; and he said, “Prepare then for the
sacrifice; only tell not Nefri I myself
will bring him it may be that the gods will
provide another victim.” For he hoped within
his heart that the Romans might attack at dawn, so
that the sacrifice should tarry.
Then the priest rose up and said,
“Lord Heiri, I would it were otherwise; but
we must in all things obey the gods; the sacrifice
is held at dawn, and I will go and set all things
in order.” So Heiri rose and bowed to the
priest; but he knew in his heart that the priest sorrowed
not, but rather exulted in the victim he had chosen.
Then Heiri sent word that Nefri should come to him,
and presently Nefri came in haste, having risen from
his bed, with the warm breath of sleep about him.
And there went as it were a sword through Heiri’s
heart, to see the boy so fair and gracious and so full
of love and bravery.
Then Heiri made the boy sit beside
him, and embraced him with his arm; and then he said,
“Nefri, I have sent for you in haste, for there
is a thing that I must tell you; to-morrow we fight
the Romans, and something tells me in my heart that
it will be our last fight; whether we shall conquer
or be conquered I know not, but it is a day of doom
for many and now hearken. I have prayed
many times in my heart for a son, but no son is given
me; but I hoped that you would reign after me, if
indeed there shall be any people left to rule; and
if it so fall out, remember that I spoke with you
to-night, and bade you be brave and just, loving your
people and fearing the gods; and forget not that I
loved you well.”
And Nefri, half in awe and half in
eager love for the great prince his cousin, said,
“I will not forget.” Then Heiri kissed
him on the cheek and said, “Dear lad, I know
it. And now you must sleep, for there is a sacrifice
at dawn, and you must be there with me; but before
you sleep and I would have you sleep here
in my hut to-night pray to the father of
the gods to guide and strengthen me for
we are as naught in his hands, and I have a grievous
choice to make a choice between honour
and love and I know not which is the stronger.”
Then Heiri spread a bearskin on the
floor and bade Nefri sleep, and he himself sat long
in thought looking upon the embers. And it was
quiet in the hut only he saw by the firelight
the boy’s bright eye watching him, till he chid
him lovingly, saying, “Sleep, Nefri, sleep.”
And Heiri himself lay down to sleep, for he knew that
a weary day of fighting lay before him.
But the priest went to the other chiefs
and spake with each of them, saying that the gods
had chosen Nefri for the victim of the sacrifice,
but that Heiri would fain forbid it. But the priest
did worse than that, for he told many of the tribesmen
the same story, and though they were sorry that Nefri
should die, yet they feared the gods exceedingly,
and did not think to dispute their will.
About an hour before the dawn, when
there was a faint light in the air, and the breeze
began to blow chill from the hills, and the stars
went out one by one, the chiefs began to gather their
men; and there was sore discontent in the camp; all
night had the rumour spread beside the fires and in
the huts that Heiri would resist the will of the gods
and save Nefri from death; and many of the soldiers
told the chiefs that if this were so they would not
fight; so the chiefs assembled in silence before the
hut of Heiri, for they feared him greatly, but they
feared the gods more, and they had resolved that Nefri
should die.
While they stood together Heiri came
suddenly out among them. He carried a brand in
his hand, which lit up his pale face and bright armour;
and he came like a man risen from the dead.
Then the oldest chief, by name Gryf,
drew near, and Heiri asked him of the Romans; and
the chief said that they were not stirring yet.
Then Heiri held up his hand; every now and then came
the crying of cocks out of the camp, but in the silence
was heard the faint sound of trumpets from the moorland,
and Heiri said, “They come.”
Then Gryf, the chief, said, “Then
must the sacrifice be made in haste,” and he
turned to Heiri and said, “Lord Heiri, it is
rumoured in the camp that Nefri is the chosen victim,
but that you seek to save him.” And Heiri
looked sternly at him and said, “And wherefore
are the purposes of the gods revealed? Lo, I
will bring Nefri myself to the sacrifice, and we shall
see what will befall.”
Then the chiefs were glad in their
hearts and said, “Lord Heiri, it is well.
The ways of the gods are dark, but they rule the lives
of men, and who shall say them nay?” And Heiri
said, “Ay, they are dark enough.”
Then he made order that the scouts
should go forth from the camp; and while he yet spake
the procession of priests in their white robes passed
like ghosts through the huts on their way to the temple.
And Heiri said, “We must follow,” and
he called to Nefri; but the boy did not answer.
Then Heiri went within and found him sleeping very
softly, with his face upon his hand; and he looked
upon him for a moment, and then he put his hand upon
his head; and the boy rose up, and Heiri said, “It
is time, dear Nefri and pray still for me,
for the gods have not showed me light.”
So Nefri marvelled, and tried to make a prayer; but
he was filled with wonder at the thought of the sacrifice,
for he had never been present at a sacrifice before and
he was curious to see a man slain for the
sight of death in those grievous years of battle had
lost its terrors even for children. So Nefri rose
up; and Heiri smiled upon him and took the boy’s
hand, and the two went out together.
Then they came with the chiefs through
the camp. The precinct of the goddess was at
the upper end, to the north; it was a thick grove of
alders, through which no eye could pierce; and it was
approached by a slanting path so that none could see
into the precinct.
So presently they came to the place
and entered in; and Heiri felt the boy’s hand
cold within his own; but it was not fear, for Nefri
was fearless, but only eagerness to see what would
be done.
They passed inside the precinct; none
was allowed to enter except the priests and the chiefs
and certain captains. It was a dolorous place
in truth. All round ran a wall of high slabs of
slate. At the upper end, on a pedestal, stood
the image of the god, a rude and evil piece of handiwork.
It was a large and shapeless figure, with hands outspread;
in the head of it glared two wide and cruel eyes, painted
with paint, red-rimmed and horrible. The pedestal
was stained with rusty stains; and at the foot lay
a tumbled heap that was like the body of a man, as
indeed it was for the victim was left lying
where he fell, until another victim was slain.
All around the body sprouted rank grasses out of the
paved floor. The priests stood round the image;
the chief priest in front holding a bowl and a long
thin knife. Two of them held torches which cast
a dull glare on the image. The chiefs arranged
themselves in lines on each side; and Heiri, still
holding Nefri by the hand, walked up to within a few
feet of the image, and there stood silent.
Then the chief priest made a sign,
and at that two other priests came out with a large
box of wood and shovels; and they took the bones of
the victim up and laid them in the box, in which they
clattered as they fell and Nefri watched
them curiously, but shuddered not; and when the poor
broken body was borne away, then Nefri began to look
round for the victim, but the priests began a hymn;
their loud sad voices rang out very strangely on the
chilly air and the tribesmen without, hearing
the sound, trembled for fear and cast themselves upon
the ground.
Then there was a silence; and the
chief priest came forward, and made signs to Heiri
to draw near, and Heiri advanced, and said to Nefri
as he did so, “Now, child, be brave.”
And Nefri looked up at Heiri with parted lips; and
then it came suddenly into his mind that he was indeed
to be the victim; but he only looked up with a piteous
and inquiring glance at Heiri; and Heiri drew him
to the pedestal. Then there was a terrible silence,
and the hearts of the chiefs beat fast for fear and
horror; and some of them turned away their faces, and
the tears came to their eyes.
Then the priest raised his knife,
while Nefri watched him; but Heiri stepped forward
and said, “Lord priest, I have chosen. Hold
thy hand. The law saith that a victim must die,
and that one may offer himself to die; ye have chosen
Nefri, for none has offered himself. But I bid
thee hold; for here I offer myself as a victim to the
god.”
Then there was an awful silence, and
the priest looked fiercely and evilly upon Nefri,
and made as though he would have smitten him; but
Heiri seized the priest’s hand in both his own,
and with great strength drove the knife into his own
breast, stood for a moment, then swayed and fell.
And as he lay he said, “My father, I come, the
last victim at the shrine;” and then he drew
out the knife, sobbed and died. But the chiefs
crowded round to look upon him; and Gryf said, “We
are undone; our king is dead, and who shall lead us?”
Then he scowled evilly upon the priests,
and said, “This is your work, men of blood and
as ye have slain our king, ye shall fight for us to-day,
and see if the god will protect you; then, if he saves
you, we shall know that you have spoken truly and
if he saves you not then ye are false priests.”
And the chiefs cried assent; and Gryf, the eldest
chief, commanded that weapons should be given them,
and that they should be guarded and fight with the
vanguard. But Nefri cast himself upon the body
of Heiri and wept sore. But while they stood
came a scout in terror, and told them that the Romans
were indeed advancing. So the temple was emptied
in a moment; and Nefri sat by the body of the dead
and looked upon it. But the chiefs hastened to
the wall of the camp; and it was now day; in the light
that fell pale and cold from the eastern hills they
saw the Romans creeping across the moor, in black
dots and patches, and the sound of the horns drew
nearer.
Then they arrayed themselves, and
went out in the white morning; and the women watched
from the wall. But Heiri’s wife was told
the tale, and went to the temple, but dared not enter,
for no woman might set foot therein; and she wailed
sitting at the gate, calling upon Heiri to come forth;
but Heiri lay on his back before the image, the blood
flowing from his breast, while Nefri held his head
upon his knee.
Then went the battle very evilly for
the tribe; little by little they were driven back
upon the camp; and they were like sheep without a
shepherd and still the chiefs hoped in the
help of the god; but the priests were smitten down
one by one, and last of all the chief priest fell,
his bowels gushing from a wound in his side, and cursed
the god and died cursing.
Then the heavens overclouded:
blacker and blacker the clouds gathered, with a lurid
redness underneath like copper; till a mighty storm
fell upon them, just as the Cambrians broke and fled
back to the camp, and watched the steady advance of
the Roman line, with the eagles bowing and nodding
as they swept over the uneven moor.
Then suddenly they were aware of a
strange thing. Whence it came they knew not,
but suddenly under the camp wall there appeared the
figure of a man in armour, on a white horse; it was
the form of Heiri as they had often seen him ride
forth on his white charger to battle; and behind him
seemed to be a troop of dark and shadowy horsemen.
Heiri seemed to turn round, and raise his sword in
the air, as he had often done in life; and then, with
a great rending of the heavens, and a mighty crash
of thunder, the troop of horse swept down upon the
Roman line. Then came a fearful sound from the
moorland; and those who gazed from the wall saw the
Romans waver and turn; and in a moment they were in
flight, melting away in the moor, as stones that roll
from a cliff after a frost; and all men held their
breath in silence; for they saw the Romans flying
and none to pursue, except that some thought that
they saw the white horse ride hither and thither, and
the flash of the waving sword of Heiri.
There followed a strange and dreadful
night; the list of warriors was called and many were
absent; from hour to hour a few wounded men crawled
in; and in the morning, seeing that the Romans were
not near at hand, they sent out a party with horses
to bring in the wounded and the dead; all the priests
were among the slain; those of the chiefs that were
alive held a meeting and resolved that the camp must
now be held, for the Romans would attack the next
day; and they sent the women and children, with the
herds, away to a secret place in the mountains, all
but Heiri’s wife, who would not leave the camp.
Then the other chiefs would have made
Gryf, the old chief, prince of the tribe; but he refused
it, saying that Heiri had wished Nefri to be chief,
and that none but Nefri should succeed. So search
was made for Nefri, and he was found in Heiri’s
hut with Heiri’s wife; he had stayed beside
the body till it grew stiff and cold and the eyes had
glazed; and then he had feared to be alone with it,
and had crept away. So they put a crown upon
Nefri’s head, and each of the chiefs in turn
knelt before him and kissed his hand; and Nefri bore
himself proudly but gently, as a prince should, rising
as each chief approached; and then he was led out
before the people, and they were told that Nefri was
prince by the wish of Heiri; and no one disputed the
matter.
Then in the grey dawn a scout came
in haste and said that three Romans were approaching
the camp, and that one was a herald; and the old chief
asked Nefri what his will was; and the boy looked him
in the face, and said, “Let them be brought
hither.” So the chiefs were again summoned,
and the Romans came slowly into the camp. The
herald came in front, and he was followed by an officer
of high rank, as could be seen from his apparel and
the golden trappings of the horse that bore him; and
another officer followed behind; and the herald, who
knew something of the Cambrian language, said that
this was the Lord Legate himself, and that he was
come to make terms.
The chiefs looked at each other in
silence, for they knew that the Romans must needs
have taken the camp that day if they had assaulted
it. The Legate was a young man with a short beard,
very much burnt by the sun, and bearing himself like
a great gentleman. He looked about him with a
careless and lordly air; and when they came into the
presence of the chiefs, the three dismounted; and the
Legate looked round to see which was the prince; then
the old chief put Nefri forward, and said to the herald,
“Here is our king.” And the Legate
bowed to Nefri, and looked at him in surprise; and
the herald said in the Cambrian language to Nefri
that the Legate was fain to arrange a truce, or indeed
a lasting peace, if that were possible.
Then the old chief said to Nefri,
“My lord, ask him wherefore the Legate has come;”
and Nefri asked the herald, and the herald asked the
Legate; then the Legate said, smiling, to the herald,
“Tell him anything but the truth say
that it is our magnanimity;” and then he added
in a lower tone, turning to the other officer, “though
the truth is that the men will not dare to attack
the place after the rout of yesterday;” and
the Legate added to the herald, “Say that the
Romans respect courage, and have seen that the Cambrians
are worthy foes, and we would not press them hard;
it is a peaceful land of allies that we desire, and
not a land conquered and made desolate.”
So the herald repeated the words.
Then the old chief bade Nefri say
that they must have time to consider, adding that
it would not be well to seem eager for peace.
Then he said to the other chiefs, “Yet this is
our salvation.” So they conferred together,
and at last it was decided to tell the Legate that
they would be friends and allies, but that the boundaries
of the land must be respected, and that the Romans
must withdraw beyond the boundaries. And this
the Legate accepted, and it was determined that all
the land that could be seen from the camp should be
left to the Cambrians, and that the mountains should
be as a wall to them; and this too the Legate approved.
So in the space of an hour the Cambrians
were relieved of their foes, and were in peace in
their own land. And the Legate was royally entertained;
but before he went he asked, through the herald, where
the great warrior was who had led the last charge on
the day before, for he had taken him to be the prince
of the land. Then the old chief said, “He
is sick and may not come forth.” Then the
Legate rode away, and Nefri rode a little way with
him to do him honour, and after courteous greetings
they departed.
Then the old chief and Nefri talked
long together, and they determined what they would
do.
Then the people were assembled, and
Nefri spoke first, and said that he was young and
could not put words together; but he added that the
old chief knew his will and would announce it.
Then the old chief stood forward and
told the people the story of Heiri’s death and
how he had died for the people; and then he told them
that he had made the priests fight, and that the gods
had surely shown that they were false priests, for
they were slain, and the gods had not protected them,
and that Nefri was prince by the will of Heiri.
And then he said that Heiri with his
latest breath had said that he should be the last
victim and that thus it should be; “for
Heiri,” he said, “has become a god indeed
and fought for us, and has conquered the Romans, and,
therefore,” he said, “the Lord Nefri has
decreed that the precinct of the god should not indeed
be destroyed for that were impious; but
that a great mound should be raised over the place,
and that it should be the tomb of Heiri, and that
peaceful offerings should be made there, and that
it should be kept as a day of festival; and that Nefri
himself should be priest as well as prince, and his
successors for ever.”
And the people all applauded, for
they had dreaded the bloody sacrifices; and the next
day and for many days they laboured until over the
whole precinct they had raised a mighty mound, burying
the image of the god; and for Heiri’s body they
made a chamber of stone, and they laid him therein,
with his face upward to the sky, and made great lamentation
over him.
When all things were in order a solemn
feast was held; and Nefri on the top of the mound
made a sacrifice of fruits and milk, and blessed the
people in the name of Heiri; and he made order that
to make the place more blessed, all weddings should
thenceforth be celebrated upon the mound, so that
it should be the precinct of life and not of death.
And the people rejoiced.
That night Nefri slept in the hut
of Heiri; and at the dead time of darkness, when all
was silent in the camp, except for the pacing of the
sentry to and fro, Nefri awoke, and saw in the hut
the form of Heiri standing, only brighter and fairer
than when he lived; and he looked upon Nefri with
a smile as though his heart was full of joy; then
he came near and said, in a voice like the voice of
a distant fall of water, “Nefri, dear child,
thou hast done well and wisely; be just and merciful
and loving to all; and rule with diligence, and grieve
not.”
Then Nefri would have asked him of
the place wherein his spirit abode, but could not
find words; for he was full of wonder, though not
afraid. But Heiri smiled again, as though he knew
his thoughts, and said, “Ask me not that, for
I may not tell; but only this I may tell you, that
no man who has lived wisely and bravely need fear the
passage; it is but a flying shadow on the path, like
a cloud on the hill; and then he stands all at once
in a fairer place; neither need he fear that he lays
aside with the body the work and labour of life; for
he works and labours more abundantly, and his labour
is done in joy, without fear or heaviness; and for
all such spirits is there high and true labour waiting.
Therefore, Nefri, fear not; and though I cannot come
to thee again for thou shalt live and be
blest yet will I surely await thee yonder.”
And then there came a darkness, and
the form of Heiri seemed to fade gradually away, as
though he were withdrawn along some secret path; and
there went others with him. And Nefri slept.
And in the morning came Heiri’s
wife, and said to Nefri that Heiri had stood beside
her in the night and comforted her; “and I know,”
she said, “that he lives and waits for me.”
So the land had peace; and Nefri ruled
wisely and did justice among the mountains by the
sea.