The Sword and the Stallion - 06 (19 page)

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.
_f

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.

They rode back into the West and they saw that the West was green again, though the animals were slow in returning and the farms were deserted and there were nothing but corpses in the villages, and then they came to Caer Mahlod, the fortress city on the conical hill, close to the oak grove and not far from the sea, and they were there for several days before Medhbh woke one morning and leaned over Corum and stroked his head and said to him:

"You have changed, my love. You are so grim."

"Forgive me," he said. "I love you, Medhbh."

"I forgive you," she told him. "And I love you, Corum." But there was a note of hesitation in her voice and her eyes looked away into a distance. "I love you," she said again. She kissed him.

And a night or two later he lay again in bed and he awoke from a nightmare in which he had seen his own face all twisted with malice and he heard a harp playing somewhere beyond the walls of Caer Mahlod and he looked to wake Medhbh and tell her of it, but she was not in the bed and when he sought her out he could find her nowhere. He asked her, in the morning, where she had been, but she told him that he must have awakened from one dream into another, that she had been at his side all the night.

And the next night he woke up and he saw that she lay sleeping peacefully beside him, but he had a mind to get up (he did not know why) and put on all his armor, and to strap his sword, Traitor, around him. And he went out of the castle, leading the Yellow Stallion, and he mounted the steed and turned its head toward the sea and he rode until he reached the cliff which had broken away, leaving an isolated peak on which stood the ruins of a place called by the Mabden Castle Owyn and by him Castle Erom, where he had been born and where, until the coming of the old Mabden, he had been happy.

And Corum bent his head to the ear of the Yellow Stallion and said to that noble, ugly horse: "You have great strength, horse of Laegaire, and you have great intelligence. Could you leap this gulf and take me to Castle Erom?"

And the Yellow Stallion turned his warm, marigold-colored eyes to look at Corum, and there was not amusement there but concern, and the Yellow Stallion snorted and pawed the ground.

"Do this, Yellow Stallion," said Corum, "and I will free you to return to whence you came."

And the Yellow Stallion hesitated, then seemed to agree. He turned and trotted back toward Caer Mahlod, then turned again and began to gallop, faster and faster, until the gulf between the mainland and the promontory on which Castle Owyn stood was very close, and the spray was white in the moonlight and the sea boomed like the voice of a banished Fhoi Myore, and the Yellow Stallion tensed himself, then leapt and his hooves came down squarely upon the rock on the other side and at last Corum had achieved his ambition. He dismounted.

Then the Yellow Stallion looked enquiringly at him and Corum said simply:' 'You are free, upon the same conditions that Laegaire made." And the Yellow Stallion nodded his head and turned and leapt again across the gulf and was gone into the darkness. And over the sound of the sea Corum thought he heard a voice calling to him from the battlements of Caer Mahlod. Was it Medhbh's voice that called?

He ignored the voice. He stood there and he contemplated the old, worn walls of Castle Erom, and he remembered how the Mabden had killed his family and then maimed him, taking away his hand and his eye, and he wondered, for a moment, why he had served them so long and so fully. It seemed ironic to him then that, in both cases, it had been largely for the love of Mabden women. But there was a difference between Rhalina and Queen Medhbh that he could not understand, though he loved them both, and they had loved him.

He heard a movement from within the ruined walls and he stepped closer, wondering if he would see again the youth with the face and limbs of gold whom he had seen there once and who was called Dagdagh. He saw a shadow move, glimpsed scarlet in the moonlight, called out:

"Who's there?"

There was no reply.

He stepped closer until his hand touched the time-smoothed carving of the portal, and he hesitated before he went further, saying again:

"Who's there?"

And something hissed like a snake. And something clicked. And something rattled. And Corum saw that the body of a man was outlined against the light which entered through a ruined window, and the man turned and his face was revealed to Corum.

It was Corum's face. It was Calatin's changeling, his Karach, smelling of brine. And the Karach smiled and drew its sword.

"I greet you, brother," said Corum. "I knew in my bones that the prophecy would be fulfilled tonight. I think that that is why I came."

And the Karach said nothing, only smiled, and in the distance now Corum heard the sweet, sinister tones of the Dagdagh harp.

"But what," said Corum, "is the beauty I must fear?"

And he drew his sword, Traitor, out.

"Do you know, changeling?" he asked.

But the changeling's smile merely broadened a little to show white teeth the exact match of Corum's.

' 'I think I would have my robe back now,'' said Corum. "I know that I must fight you for it."

And they came together, then, fighting, and their swords struck bright sparks in the gloom of the castle's interior. As Corum had guessed, they were perfectly balanced, skill for skill, strength for strength.

They fought all over the cracked floor of Castle Erorn. They fought over slabs of broken masonry. They fought on half-fallen stairways. They fought for an hour, matching blow for blow, cunning for cunning, but now Corum understood that the changeling had one advantage. He was tireless.

The wearier Corum became the more energetic the changeling seemed to be. He did not speak (perhaps he could not speak) but his smile grew imperceptibly broader and increasingly mocking.

Corum fell back, depending more and more upon defensive swordplay. The changeling drove him out of the door of Castle Erom, drove him to the very edge of the cliff, until Corum gathered his strength and lunged forward, taking the changeling by surprise and grazing his arm with Traitor.

The changeling did not seem to feel the wound, renewing his attack with vigor.

Then Corum's heel struck a rock and he stumbled backward and he fell, his sword flying from his hand, and he cried out in a miserable voice:

"This is unjust! This is unjust!"

And the harp began to sound again and it seemed to sing a song with words. He thought it sang:

"Ah, the world was ever so. How sad are heroes when their tasks are done
..."