Presently a voice was heard, and the maiden started. It was the voice of Caledon, ancient Druid and he called for Nesta the Fair.
“The gods have need of thee,” he cried. “They have sent to me their message, and they ask as a sacrifice the beloved of Edas—the bride of the chief.”
The voice of the Druid was stern and terrible. Edas the chief stood like one bereft of reason. Only Nesta the Fair remained calm.
“It is the will of the All-Giver,” she said, and sighed. “Yet—I had dreamed of happiness and love.”
Again the voice of Caledon cried—
“What greater happiness can a maiden have than to be the chosen of the gods?”
But Edas flung his arms about the maid.
“She is too young, too fair to die,” said he, his voice breaking with agony. “Druid, it shall not be.”
For a moment the priest stood silent. Then the words fell from his lips in an angry torrent.
“Art thou a coward, Edas, son of Atli? Must the daughters of the poor be offered for sacrifices, and shall the mighty ones of the earth escape? Shall the gods ask the consent of Edas before they select themselves a holy bride?”