“Hast thou no fear of hell?”
“I am a warrior, and the son of my father, and of a race of heroes. Why should I fear?”
Molios brooded a while.
“Take him,” he said at last, “and bury him alive where his gods perchance will hear his cries and come and save him! Find me a hollow tree.”
“There is a great oak near here,” said Ecta, wondering, “a great hollow oak whose belly would hold five men, each standing upon the other.”
With that he led them to an ancient tree.
“Dost thou repent, Cathal?” Molios asked.
“Ay,” the young man answered grimly; “I repent. I repent that I wasted the good days serving you and your three false gods.”
“Blaspheme no more. Thou knowest that these three are one God.”
Cathal laughed mockingly.