The Chronicles of Corum (44 page)

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Authors: Michael Moorcock

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BOOK: The Chronicles of Corum
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"Let us take him into the Temple," Corum said.

When they lifted him he offered no resistance. They carried him into the coolness of the interior and laid him on the floor.

"Corum?" croaked the priest, opening his eyes. "The Chaos fury leaves me. I am myself again—or almost so."

"What has happened to the folk of Halwyg?" Jhary asked him. "Are they all destroyed? Where have they gone?"

"They are mad. Not one was sane by yesterday. I fought the sickness as long as I could . . ."

"But where are they, Aleryon?"

"Gone. They are off in the hills, on the plains, in the forests. They are hiding from each other—attacking each other from time to time. Not one man trusted another and so they left the city, you see . . ."

"Has Lord Arkyn visited your Temple?" Corum asked the old priest. "Has he spoken to you?"

"Once—early on. He told me to send for you, but I could not. No one would go and I knew of no other way of reaching you, Prince Corum. And when the rage came, then I was in no state to—to receive Lord Arkyn. I could not summon him, as, traditionally, I summoned him every day."

Corum helped Aleryon to his feet. "Summon him now.

The whole world is possessed by Chaos. Summon him now, Aleryon!"

"I am not sure."

"You must."

"I will try." Aleryon's wounded face grew grim, for now he fought against the euphoria of Jhary's potion. "I will try."

And he tried. He tried for all the rest of that afternoon, his voice growing hoarse as he chanted the ritual prayer to Law. For many years that prayer had gone unanswered, while Law was banished and Arioch ruled in the name of Chaos. But recently the prayer had sometimes summoned the great Lord of Law.

Now there was no answer.

Aleryon paused at last. "He does not hear. Or, if he hears, he cannot come. Is Chaos returned in all her power, Corum?"

Corum Jhaelen Irsei looked at the floor and slowly shook his head. "Perhaps."

"Look!" said Rhalina, pushing her long black hair away from her face. "Jhary, it is your cat."

The little black-and-white cat flew through the door and settled on Jhary's shoulder. It nuzzled his ear, a series of low sounds coming from its throat. Jhary looked surprised and then became intent, listening closely to the cat.

"It speaks to him!" Aleryon murmured in astonishment.

"The creature speaks!"

"It communicates," Jhary told him, "yes."

At length the cat became quiet and, balancing on Jhary's shoulder still, began to wash itself.

"What did it tell you?" Corum asked.

"It told me of Glandyth-a-Krae."

"So—he does live!"

"Not only does he live but he appears to have made a pact with King Mabelrode of Chaos—through the medium of a treacherous Nhadragh sorcerer. And Chaos told him of the spell which is now upon us. And Chaos has promised him yet greater power."

"Where is Glandyth?"

"On Maliful—in Os."

"We must go there, find Glandyth, destroy him."

"No point. Glandyth is coming to us."

"By sea? There is still time."

"Across the sea. He and his men have some Chaos beasts at their command—things which the cat could not describe. Even now Glandyth flies for Lywm-an-Esh—and he is seeking us, Corum."

"We shall be here and we shall fight him at long last."

Jhary looked skeptical. "The two of us—drugged so that our reactions are slow and our sense of survival low?"

"We will find others—administer your potion . . ."

Corum stopped. He knew that it was impossible—that even under normal conditions he would be hard put to fight the Denledhyssi, even with the aid.... His face cleared and then grew dark again. "Perhaps it can be done, Jhary, if I make use of the Hand of Kwll and the Eye of Rhynn once more."

Jhary-a-Conel shrugged. "We must hope so, for there is naught else we can do. If only we could find Tanelorn, as I wanted to do before. I am sure we should find help there.

But I have no clue as to its current whereabouts."

"You speak of the mythical city of tranquillity—Eternal Tanelorn?" said Aleryon. "You know it exists?"

Jhary smiled. "If I have a home—then that home is Tanelorn. It exists in every age, at every time, on every plane—but it is sometimes hard to find."

"Can we not search the planes in the sky ship?" Rhalina said. "For the sky ship can travel between the realms as we know."

"My knowledge does not extend to guiding it through those strange dimensions," Jhary told them. "Bwydyth told me something of how to make it travel through the walls between the realms, but I know nothing of steering it. No, we must hope to find Tanelorn on this plane, if we are to find it at all. But in the meantime we must think more of Glandyth and escaping him."

"Or doing battle with him," Corum said. "We might have the means of defeating him."

"We might, aye."

"You must go to watch for him," Aleryon said. "I will stay here with the Lady Rhalina. Together we shall continue to try summoning Lord Arkyn."

Corum nodded his agreement. "You are a brave old man, priest. I thank you."

Outside in the silent streets Corum and Jhary walked listlessly toward the center of the city. Time upon time Corum would raise his alien left hand and inspect it. Time upon time he would lower it and then touch his jeweled eye patch with his right hand. Then he would glance up into the sky through his one mortal eye, his silver helm glinting in the sunlight, for the clouds had cleared and it was a calm winter's day.

Neither man could express his thoughts. They were thoughts both profound and desperate. It seemed that the end had come when they had least expected it. Somehow Law had been vanquished, Chaos had regained all its old strength—perhaps was stronger. And they had not, until a short time before, had any hint of it. They felt confused, betrayed, doomed, impotent.

The dead city seemed to symbolize the emptiness in their own souls. They hoped that they would see an inhabitant—just one human, even if he attacked them.

The flowers blew gently in the breeze, but instead of signifying peace, they signified an ominous calm.

Glandyth was coming from the sky, his strength reinforced by the power of Chaos,

It was with hardly any emotion at all that Corum eventually noticed them. Black shadows flying from the east—a score of them. He indicated them to Jhary.

"We had best return to the Temple and warn Aleryon and Rhalina."

"Would not they be safest in the Temple of Law?"

"I think not—not now, Jhary."

Black shadows flying from the east. Flying low. Flying purposefully. Huge wings beating, strange cries sounding in the evening air, cries which were fierce and yet full of melancholy, the cries of damned souls. Yet these were beasts. Long-necked beasts, whose heads writhed at the end of their stalks, staring this way and that, scanning the ground as hawks might scan for prey. Long, thin heads with long, thin fangs projecting from their red mouths.

Blank, miserable eyes. Despairing voices, cawing as if pleading for release. And on their black, broad backs were strapped the wheelless chariots of the Denledhyssi, and in these hastily fashioned howdahs were the Mabden murderers themselves, and in the leading one stood a figure in a horned helm with a great iron sword in his hand. And they thought they could hear his laughter, though it must be another sound, perhaps a sound from the monstrous black flying things.

"It is Glandyth of course," said Corum. A crooked smile was on his face. "Well, we must try to fight him. If I can summon aid, it can engage Glandyth and his things while we run to warn Rhalina."

He raised his good right hand to his bad right eye, to pull back the patch and let himself see into the netherworld, where waited those whom he had slain with the power of the Hand of Kwll and the Eye of Rhynn, who were now his prisoners, waiting to be released to take other foes who might replace them and so free them from that netherworld for good. But the patch would not move, it was as if it was glued to the eye beneath. He pulled with all his strength.

He raised the Hand of Kwll with its supernatural strength to pull back the patch, but the Hand of Kwll refused to approach the patch. Those things which had aided him now plainly refused to aid him.

Was the power of Chaos so great that it could control even these?

With a sob Corum turned and began to run through the streets, back toward the Temple of Law.

The Fifth Chapter
 The Weary God

And when Corum and Jhary came to the Temple of Law with horror in their hearts, they saw that Rhalina was waiting for them and she was smiling.

"He is here! He has come!" she cried. "It is Lord Arkyn..."

"And Glandyth comes from the east," panted Jhary.

"We must flee in the sky ship. It is all we can do. Corum's power is gone—neither the Hand nor the Eye will obey him."

Corum strode into the Temple. He was resentful and wished to express his resentment to Arkyn of Law, whom he had helped and who was not now helping him.

There was something hovering at the far end of the Temple, close to where a pale Aleryon sat with his back against the wall. A face? A body? Corum peered hard, but his peering seemed to make it fainter.

"Lord Arkyn?"

A far away voice: "Aye ..."

"What is the matter? Why are the forces of Law so weak?"

"They are stretched so thinly through the two realms which we control. Mabelrode sends all his forces to aid those who serve Chaos here. . . . We fight on ten planes, Corum . . . ten planes . . . and we are so recently established .. . our power is still weak . .."

Corum held up his useless, alien hand. "Why do I no longer control the Eye of Rhynn and the Hand of Kwll? It was our one hope of defeating Glandyth, who even now comes against us!"

"I know that. . . . You must escape . . . take your sky ship through the dimensions . . . seek Eternal Tanelorn . . .

there is a correspondence between your powerlessness and your need to find Tanelorn . . ."

"A correspondence? What correspondence?"

"I can only sense it... I am weakened by this struggle, Corum . . . 1 am weary. . .. My powers are thin now. . . .

Find Tanelorn . . ."

"How can I? Jhary cannot steer the sky ship through the dimensions."

"He must try to do so .. ."

"Lord Arkyn—you must give me clearer instructions.

Even now Glandyth comes to Halwyg. He intends to seize this whole plane and rule it. He intends to destroy all of us who remain. How can we defend those who suffer the Chaos madness?"

"Tanelorn.... Seek Tanelorn.... It is the only way you can hope to save them... .1 can tell you no more.... It is all I see ... all I see .. ."

"You are a feeble god, Lord Arkyn. Perhaps I should have pledged my loyalty to Chaos, for if horror and death are to rule the world, one might as well become that horror and that death ..."

"Do not be bitter, Corum. . . . There is still some hope that you may succeed in banishing Chaos from all the Fifteen Planes ..."

"It is strength I need now—not hope."

"Hope to find the strength you need in Tanelorn.

Farewell . . ."

And the vague shape vanished. Outside Corum heard the cries of the black flying things. He went to where Aleryon lay. The old man had exhausted himself trying to call Arkyn. "Come, old man. We will take you to the sky ship with us—if there is time."

But Aleryon did not reply for, while Corum had conversed with the weary god, he had died.

Rhalina and Jhary-a-Conel were already standing by the sky ship, staring upward as the great black beasts began to descend on Halwyg.

"I spoke to Arkyn," Corum told them. "He was of little help. He said we must escape through the dimensions and seek Tanelorn. I told him that you could not guide the craft beyond this plane. He said that we must."

Jhary shrugged and helped Rhalina aboard. "Then we must. Or, at least, we must try."

"If only we could rally defenders from the City in the Pyramid. Their weapons would destroy even Glandyth's Chaos allies."

"But they destroy each other with them. This is what Glandyth knew."

They stood all three in the sky ship as Jhary passed his hands over the crystals and brought them to life. The craft began to rise. Jhary pointed its prow toward the west, away from Glandyth.

But Glandyth had seen them now. The black wings beat louder and the cries increased in volume. The Denledhyssi began to sweep down toward the only three mortals in the world who were aware of what had happened to them.

Jhary bit his lip as he studied the crystals. "It is a question of making accurate passes over these things," he said. "I am striving to remember what Bwydyth taught me."

The sky ship was moving swiftly now, but their pursuers kept pace with them. The long necks of the flying beasts were poised like snakes about to strike. Red mouths stretched wide. Fangs flashed.

Something foul streamed from those mouths like oily black smoke. Like the tongues of lizards they shot toward the sky ship. Desperately Jhary turned the craft this way and that, attempting to avoid the tendrils. One curled around the stern and the ship stopped moving for a moment before it broke free. Rhalina clung to Corum.

Uselessly, he had drawn his sword.

The little black-and-white cat clung with all its claws to Jhary's shoulder. It had recognized Glandyth and its eyes had widened in something akin to fear.

Now Corum heard a yell and he knew that Glandyth realized who it was trying to escape from Halwyg.

Although the barbarian was a good distance away, Corum thought he felt Glandyth's eyes glaring into his own. He stared back with his one human eye, the sword raised to protect himself and Rhalina, and he saw that Glandyth, too, brandished his great iron broadsword, almost as if challenging him to single combat. The flying serpents hissed and cackled and sent from their throats more of the smoky tendrils.

Four of the things coiled around the ship. Jhary attempted to increase the speed.

"We can go no faster! We are trapped!"

"Then you must try to move through the planes. We might escape them that way."

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