Then, without Corum's urging, the Yellow Stallion leapt forward, even as Balahr began to move his hand to open his single eye. The horse jumped and it was on one side of the giant, immediately below it, and Corum was able to swing himself from his saddle and take hold of the side of the cart and drag himself up and plunge the first of his javelins deep into the rotting flesh of Balahr's groin.
Balahr grunted in surprise and began to feel around for the source of the pain. Corum drove the second javelin as hard as he could into Balahr's chest.
Balahr found the first javelin and plucked it out, but he plainly had not noticed the second. Again he began to tug at the wire which would open his lethal eye.
And Corum jumped and took hold of a handful of Balahr's wiry hair, clambering up the giant's thigh, almost losing his grip as the hair was wrenched free from the flesh and Balahr shook himself, just as Corum plunged his sword into the Fhoi Myore's back and clung on to the hilt, swinging, for a moment, free in the air.
Balahr snorted and honked, but kept his two-fingered hand upon the wire which would open his eye, slapping at his back with his other hand, and Corum managed to get another purchase in the hair and began to climb again.
Balahr swayed in the chariot and the beast which dragged the chariot seemed to interpret this as a signal to move so that suddenly Balahr was swaying and the chariot was moving and the Fhoi Myore was almost flung backwards from the platform but, with one awkward movement, was able to steady himself again.
And Corum scrambled higher up the back, choking on the stink of the diseased flesh, until he reached the wire at the point where it ran under Balahr’s arm pit. And then Corum raised his sword Traitor and he hacked at the wire. Once, twice, thrice, he hacked, while Balahr honked and swayed and blew out huge clouds of foul, misty breath, and then the wire was severed.
But with the wire broken Balahr had two hands free and he used them to find Corum so that suddenly Corum was engulfed by a great, crushing fist and his arms were trapped so that he could not use his moon-colored sword.
And then Balahr grunted and lowered his head and Corum, looking down also, saw that the Yellow Stallion was there, lashing at Balahr's misshapen legs with his hooves.
The Fhoi Myore was not intelligent enough to concentrate on both Corum and the horse and it began to bend, groping for its new attacker, his grip on Corum weakening so that the Vadhagh Prince was able to struggle free, hacking at the fingers as he did so. One finger fell to the ground and sticky ichor began to ooze from the wound, and then Corum was falling, to land flat on his back, all the breath knocked from him. Painfully he got up and he saw that the Yellow Stallion stood near him and mere was humor in its eyes. And Balahr's battle-cart was creaking and moving off into the mist again, its occupant honking in a strange, high tone which, at that moment, filled Corum with a feeling of deep sympathy for the creature.
He got back into the saddle, wincing as he realized to what extent he had been bruised by his fall, and at once the Yellow Stallion was galloping again, passing shadowy groups of fighting men, the monstrous shapes of the Fhoi Myore. He saw horns glinting high above him; he saw a face which resembled a wolf's, he saw white teeth, and he knew that this was the chief of the Fhoi Myore, Kerenos, howling like one of his own hounds and striking about him with a huge, crude sword, striking at an attacker who sang a wild, beautiful song as he fought, whose golden hair shone like the sun, who rode a massive black horse which was clad in red and gilded leather and sea-ivory and pearls. It was Ilbrec, son of Manannan, on his horse Splendid Mane, his shining sword Retaliator in his hand, doing battle with Kerenos, as his Sidhi ancestors had done battle in the old times when they had answered the Mabden call for help and ridden to rid this world of Chaos and Old Night. And then Corum had gone past them, glimpsing Goim, with her hag's face and her filed teeth, snatching with clawed hands at the black-bearded dwarf Goffanon, who yelled at her as he whirled his axe, and hurled insults at the gigantic crone.
Corum wanted to stop, to aid his old comrades, but the Yellow Stallion bore him onward to a place where Queen Medhbh stood over the corpse of her own horse and lashed out at half-a-dozen red-eared hounds who surrounded her. Into these rode Corum, bending low in his saddle and slitting open the bellies of two of the beasts without pausing, calling out to the woman he loved;
"Climb up behind me, Medhbh! Hurry!"
And Queen Medhbh did as he bid her and the Yellow Stallion did not seem to notice the extra weight at all but opened its mouth to laugh again at the hounds snapping all around him.
And then all at once the mist was gone and they were in an oak wood and each oak flamed with a fire which had no heat, afire of intense brightness, illuminating the battle and making all those who fought lower their weapons and gape, and there was no snow to be seen anywhere.
And five monstrous figures, in five rudely-made chariots drawn by five grotesque beasts, covered their malformed heads and wailed in pain and fear.
For all he guessed the origin of the enchantment, Corum felt alarm growing within him, and he turned in his saddle and he held Medhbh close, and he was overwhelmed by a profound sense of misgiving.
Now the Fhoi Myore vassals milled about in confusion, looking to their leaders for guidance, but the Fhoi Myore themselves honked and groaned and shuddered, for the combination of oak-tree and fire was probably what they feared most upon this plane.
Goffanon came limping up, using his axe to help him walk. His body bled from a dozen long wounds he had got from Goim's claws, but that was not the reason his face was so grim.
"Well," he growled, "Sactric conjures no arbitrary glamor. Oh, how I fear that knowledge of his."
And Corum could only nod his agreement.
THE FOURTH CHAPTER
THE POWER OF CRAIG DON
"Once such a strength of illusion is introduced into a world," said Goffanon, "then it is hard to be rid of it. It will cloud the Mabden minds for many millennia to come. I know that I am right."
Queen Medhbh laughed at him. "I think you relish gloomy thoughts, old smith. Amergin will help the Malibann and that will be an end to it. Our world will be rid of all her enemies!"
"There are subtler enemies," said Goffanon, "and the worst of all is that unreality which mars clear-sighted judgement of things as they are."
But Medhbh shrugged and dismissed his words, pointing to where the Fhoi Myore were urging their chariots away from the conflict, seeking to escape the flaming oaks."There! Our enemies flee!"
Ilbrec came riding up, his face all flushed, his fair skin bearing the marks of the fight. He laughed. "We did well, after all, to seek help on Ynys Scaith!"
But neither Corum nor Goffanon answered him and so Ilbrec rode on, leaning over in his saddle and chopping casually at the heads of Pine Warriors and Ghoolegh as he went by. None attacked him, for the Fhoi Myore vassals were too confused.
Then, as Medhbh dismounted from the Yellow Stallion and went to catch a horse she had observed nearby, Corum saw Prince Gaynor the Damned riding through the burning oak-wood toward him and, about thirty feet away, Prince Gaynor drew rein.
"What's this?" he asked. "Who aids you, Corum?"
"It would be unwise to tell you, Gaynor the Damned, I think," replied Corum.
He heard Gaynor sigh. "Well, all you have done is to make another sanctuary for yourselves, like Craig Don. We shall wait on the edges of this place and you will begin to starve again. What have you gained?"
"I do not know, yet,'‘ said Corum.
Prince Gaynor turned and began to ride away, in the wake of the disappearing Fhoi Myore. And now the Ghoolegh, the Hounds of Kerenos, the Pine Warriors—all those vassals who still survived— began to stream after Prince Gaynor.
"What now?" said Goffanon. "Shall we follow?"
"At a distance," said Corum. His own men were beginning to regroup. Scarce a hundred remained. Among them were Amergin, the High King, and Jhary-a-Conel, who had a wounded side. His face was very pale and there was agony in
his eyes. Corum went to him, inspecting the wound.
"I have put a salve on it," said Amergin, "but he needs better treatment than I can minister here ..."
"It was Gaynor," said Jhary-a-Conel. "I did not see him in the mist, until too late."
"I owe Gaynor much," said Corum. "Would you wait here or ride with us, after the Fhoi Myore?"
"If their end is to come, I would witness it," said Jhary.
"So be it," said Corum.
And they all began to follow the retreating Fhoi Myore.
So anxious were the Fhoi Myore and their followers to depart the burning oak-wood that they did not see Corum and the Mabden behind them. The only one who looked back and seemed evidently puzzled was Gaynor. Gaynor did not fear the oaks, he feared only Limbo.
Something brushed Coram's shoulder and then he felt a small body settle there. It was the black and white cat and Sactric's eyes stared out from its head.
"How far does this enchantment extend?" Corum asked the Malibann.
"As far as necessary," Sactric told him. "You will see."
''Where is Craig Don? I did not know we had strayed so far from it," Medhbh said.
But Sactric did not answer. He spread his borrowed wings and flew away again.
Amergin was staring hard at the burning oaks. He had a look of respect upon his pale features. "Such a simple-seeming illusion," he murmured, "but what power it took to conceive it. I know now why you feared the Malibann, Goffanon."
Goffanon merely granted.
A little later the Sidhi dwarf said: "I still cannot rid myself of the thought that it would be better for the Mabden to die now. Your descendants will suffer as a result of the allies you have used today."
"I hope not, Goffanon," said the Archdruid, but he frowned, considering the dwarf's words.
And then Corum saw something, a shadow behind the flaming oaks. He stared hard at it and it began to dawn on him what it was he saw.
Ahead, the Fhoi Myore had come to a halt. Their honkings and their boomings had become still more agitated. They lifted their diseased heads, calling to one another, and there was something pathetic and childlike about their voices.
Corum felt a wave of dizziness sweep through him as he noticed more of the tall shadows. He said:
"It is Craig Don. The Malibann have disguised it. The Fhoi Myore have entered the stone circles!"
And Jhary cried: "My cat! Is Sactric still there?" And the little Companion to Champions spurred his horse forward, heedlessly dashing toward where the Fhoi Myore gathered. Corum realized that the pain of the wound had affected his friend's mind and he shouted: "Jhary! Sactric will protect himself!"
But Jhary did not hear Corum. Already he had reached the nearest group of Pine Warriors and passed them unhindered. Corum made to follow him, but the Yellow Stallion refused to move. Corum kicked his heels into the steed's flanks, but nothing he could do would make the Yellow Stallion take one step closer.
And now it seemed to Corum that the stone circles were whirling around him, and as they whirled the burning oak trees began to disappear, and the cold sky returned, and the white plain, and the mist, and he was half-blinded. They were still within the outer circle of monoliths, but the Fhoi Myore were at the very center. And something seemed to be trying to pull Corum into that inner ring, and a powerful wind tugged at him, but the Yellow Stallion held its ground and Corum clung to the saddle, noticing that many of the Mabden had thrown themselves flat upon the frosty earth.
And Corum heard a terrible grunting and he saw that the Fhoi Myore were trying to burst free from the inner circle, but that the wind forced them back.
"Jhary!" Corum called, but the wind stole his voice. "Jhary!''
Faster and faster the stones whirled and now only Corum remained in his saddle. Even Ilbrec kneeled beside Splendid Mane, close to where Goffanon stood, staring bleakly at the scene taking place at the center of Craig Don.
Corum saw something crimson fling itself clear from the circle and he saw that it was Gaynor the Damned, fighting fiercely against the wind, moving with painful slowness toward the group of Mabden, sometimes falling down, but always managing to rise, his armor flickering with a thousand different colors.
Corum thought: ‘ 'So you seek to escape your fate, Gaynor. Well, I shall not allow it. You must go to Limbo.’'
And he drew his moon-colored sword Traitor. And the sword pulsed like a live thing in his hand. And he made to block Gaynor's path.
But the wind still dragged at him and, unlike Prince Gaynor, Corum was not motivated by panic, so that when he dismounted from the Yellow Stallion to step in front of Gaynor he was almost knocked from his feet, but nonetheless he flung himself upon his old enemy, grappling clumsily with him.
Gaynor raised a metal fist and smashed it into Corum's face, at the same time wrenching Traitor from Corum's hand. He raised the sword to strike the Vadhagh Prince down, his armor glowing blue-black, while all around him the stones of Craig Don whirled faster.
Then Corum saw Goffanon come up behind Gaynor and seize him by the wrist, but Gaynor turned, breaking free of the Sidhi dwarf's grip and aiming at him the blow he had intended for Corum.
For the second time Traitor bit into Goffanon's flesh, and for the second time it remained there as Gaynor, still desperate, began to run, passing at last through the last circle.
Corum crawled to where Goffanon lay. The wound was a bad one. The Sidhi smith's blood rushed from the great gash Traitor had made and was sucked up by the hard earth. Corum tugged the moon-colored blade from Goffanon's side and cradled the great head in his lap. Already the blood was draining from Goffanon's face. The Sidhi was dying. He could not last more than a few moments.
Goffanon said: "The sword was well-named, Vadhagh. It has a fine edge, too."
"Oh, Goffanon ..." began Corum, but the dwarf shook his head.
''I am glad to die. My time on this plane was over. They have no place for the likes of us, Vadhagh. Not here. Not now. They know it not yet, but the Malibann disease will linger on this plane, long after the Malibann themselves have gone elsewhere. You should leave, if you can ..."
"I cannot," said Corum. "The woman I love is here."
"As for that ..." Goffanon began to cough. Then his eyes glazed, then they closed, then his breathing stopped.
Slowly Corum stood up, oblivious of the great wind which still roared about him. He saw that the Fhoi Myore still struggled, but that few of their vassals could be seen.
Amergin came staggering through the wind and gripped Corum's arm. "I saw Goffanon die. If we could get him to Caer Llud when this is done, perhaps the Cauldron will be able to restore his life.''
Corum shook his head. "He wished to die," he said.
Amergin accepted this, returning his attention to the inner circle. "The Fhoi Myore resist the vortex, but it has already taken most of their people back to Limbo."
And Corum remembered Jhary and searched for him among the dim shapes and thought he saw him, his arms waving wildly, his face frightened and white, near the altar, but then he was gone.
And then, one by one, the Fhoi Myore vanished and the wind no longer yelled through the monoliths, and the stone circles ceased to whirl round and round, and the Mabden were rising up and they were cheering and rushing forward toward the altar where still sat a small black and white cat and a box of bronze and gold.
Only Corum and Ilbrec held back, standing over the corpse of the Sidhi dwarf.
"He made a prophecy, Ilbrec," said Corum. "He advised us to leave this plane if we could, to go elsewhere. He thought our fates were no longer linked with the Mabden."
''That could be," said Ilbrec."Now that this is over I think I will return to the peace of the sea, to my father's kingdom. I can celebrate no victories with my old friend Goffanon not here to drink with me and sing the old Sidhi songs with me. Farewell, Corum." He placed a giant hand upon Corum's shoulder. "Or would you come with me?"
"I love Medhbh," said Corum. "That is why
I must remain."
Ilbrec got slowly into Splendid Mane's saddle and without further ceremony began to ride over the snow-covered plain, heading back into the West.
Only Corum saw him depart.
THE FIFTH CHAPTER
THE RETURN TO CASTLE OWYN
They had come back to Caer Llud to find the winter faded and a kind of spring in its place, and although there were many ruins to rebuild and many corpses to burn with due ceremony upon the stone pyres on the outskirts of the city, and although there remained, here and there, many signs of the Fhoi Myore occupation of the Mabden capital, they were still joyful. And Amergin went to the great tower where he had once been held prisoner under an enchantment (and from where Corum had rescued him) and he found the Cauldron and he found his Collar of Power and he displayed them to all the Mabden who had come with him back to Caer Llud. And he offered them as proof that the Fhoi Myore were gone forever from the land, that Old Night was surely banished.
And they honored Corum as a great hero who had saved their race. And they made up songs concerning his three quests, his deeds and his courage, but Corum found that he could not smile, that he could feel no elation, only sadness, for he mourned for Jhary-a-Conel , banished to Limbo with the Fhoi Myore, and he mourned for the Sidhi dwarf Goffanon, slain by the sword called Traitor.
Soon after they had arrived at Caer Llud, Amergin took the small black and white cat and the box of bronze and gold away with him to the top of his tower, and during the night there was a dry storm, and much lightning and thunder, but no rain, and eventually, in the morning, Amergin emerged from his tower without the box of bronze and gold, but holding the trembling body of the cat, and he told Corum that the bargain with the Malibann had been completed. Corum took the cat, which no longer had Sactric's eyes, and kept it ever with him.
Then, when the first celebrations were over, Corum went to Amergin and bade farewell to the High King, saying that he had it in mind to return to Caer Mahlod with those of the Tuha-na-Cremm Croich still alive, and that the woman he loved, Queen Medhbh, also wished this. So Amergin thanked Corum once more and said that soon he, too, would visit Caer Mahlod, for there were still many things they could fruitfully discuss, and Corum said that he looked forward with pleasure to Amergin's visit. Then they left.
Chronicles of Corum Page 40