Then I thought that I would try one more
plan with him.
"Morfed," I said, "take me to Owen, and I will pledge my word that
Gerent shall seek no revenge for what has been done by you."
"What I have done!" he broke out. "I sought to rid the land of a
foe, and that was a deed worth doing. Know you what you have
done?--Through you is ended the tale of many a thousand years. The
time is past when I, the priest and Archdruid of this poor land,
should have done what has been done, since time untold, without
fail, against tomorrow's rites. That day, therefore, through you
shall be unobserved. It is strange that a mere Saxon warrior, with
no thought beyond his feasting and fighting, should set his will
against mine and prove the stronger. Now I wit well that this is
some fated day, and that herein lies some omen of what shall be."
Then he turned a little from me, and looked at the shadow which had
passed altogether from the altar stone now, and half to himself he
said:
"I had thought that this menhir had fallen when this came to pass.
But maybe the old prophecy meant that not until it fell we must
cease our rites. But that was not how we read the words of old
time. If we read them wrong, what else have we mistaken?"
"Morfed," I broke in on his musings, "end this idle talk, and tell
me of Owen.
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