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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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Read books online » Fiction » Paul the Minstrel and Other Stories by Arthur Christopher Benson (e reader for manga TXT) 📖

Book online «Paul the Minstrel and Other Stories by Arthur Christopher Benson (e reader for manga TXT) 📖». Author Arthur Christopher Benson



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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
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