The Oak and the Ram - 04 (15 page)

"They are cautious, the Fhoi Myore," said Goffanon reminis-cently. ' 'They are like cowardly carrion dogs. It is what has allowed them to survive so long, I think."

' 'And Gaynor follows their example. As far as I know he has no great reason to fear me, but it worked to our advantage this day. Yet the Fhoi Myore will come soon, I think," said Corum.

"I think so," agreed the Sidhi. He stood on the battlements beside Corum and sharpened the blades of his axe with the whetstone he carried, his great, black brows drawn together. "Yet do you see something which flickers close to the mist? And do you see a darker mist blending with that of the Fhoi Myore?"

"I saw it earlier," Corum said, "and cannot explain it.
I
think it is some other Fhoi Myore tool which they will send against us before long."

"Ah," said Goffanon pointing. "Here comes Ilbrec. Doubtless he saw that our battle went well and comes to join us again." Goffanon's tone was bitter.

They watched the gigantic, golden youth riding the proud black stallion towards them. Ilbrec was smiling and he carried a sword in his hand. The sword was not that which he still bore at his belt, but another. And it made the sword he bore at his belt seem crude and poor by comparison, for it blazed as brightly as the sun and its hilt was all worked in fine gold; there were jewels in it and a pommel which glowed like a ruby and yet was the size of Corum's head. Ilbrec tossed his braids and waved the sword high.

"You were right to remind me of the Weapons of Light, Goffanon! I found the chest and I found the sword. Here it is! Here is Retaliator, my father's sword with which he fought the Fhoi Myore. Here is Retaliator!"

And Goffanon said sullenly, as Ilbrec came closer to the walls, his huge head level with theirs as they stood upon the battlements: "But you came with it too late, Ilbrec. We have finished our fight now."

"Too late? Did I not use the sword to draw a circle around the Fhoi Myore ranks so that even now they are confused, unable to move towards the city, unable to direct their troops?"

"So it was your work!" Corum began to laugh. "You saved us, after all, Ilbrec, when you seemed to have deserted us!"

Ilbrec was puzzled. "Desert you? I? Leave what will be the last struggle between Sidhi and Fhoi Myore ever to take place? I would not do that, little Vadhagh!"

And Goffanon was laughing now.

"I
knew you would not, Ilbrec. Welcome back to us! And welcome, too, to the great sword Retaliator!"

' 'It still has all its powers,'' said Ilbrec, turning the blade to make it blaze yet more brightly. "It is still the mightiest weapon ever drawn against the Fhoi Myore. And they know it! Ah, they know it, Goffanon! I drew this burning circle around their poison mist, containing the mist and containing them at the same time, for they cannot move unless their mist moves with them. And there they stay,"

"Forever?" Corum said hopefully.

Ilbrec shook his head and smiled. "No. Not forever, but for a while. And before we leave I will draw a defense about Caer Garanhir so that the Fhoi Myore and their warriors will fear to attack."

' 'We must go to King Daffyn and interrupt his grieving, I fear,'' said Corum. "Time grows short if we are to save Amergin's life. We need the Golden Oak and the Silvern Ram."

King Daffyn raised his red eyes and looked upon Corum and Goffanon who stood in the Hall before him. A slender girl of little more than sixteen summers sat upon the arm of the King's chair and stroked the King's head.

"Your city is safe now, King Daffyn, and will be so for some time. But now we ask a boon of you!"

"Go," said King Daffyn. "I suppose that I shall be grateful to you later, but I am not grateful now. Please leave me. Sidhi warriors bring the Fhoi Myore upon us."

"The Fhoi Myore marched before we came here,'' said Corum. "It was our warning that saved you."

"It did not save my son," said King Daffyn.

"It did not save my husband,'' said the maiden who sat beside the king.

"But other sons were saved—and other husbands—and more will be saved, King Daffyn, with your help. We seek two of the Mabden Treasures—the Oak of Gold and the Ram of Silver. Do you have them?"

' 'They are no longer mine,'' said King Daffyn.' 'And I would not part with them if they were."

"These are the only things which will revive your Archdruid Amergin from the enchantment put upon him by the Fhoi Myore," said Corum.

"Amergin? He is a prisoner in Caer Llud. Or dead, by now."

"No. Amergin lives—just. We saved him."

"Did you?" King Daffyn looked at the two with a different expression in his eyes. "Amergin lives and is free?" The despair seemed to fall away as Fhoi Myore snow had melted when touched by the Black Bull's blood. "Free? To guide us?"

' 'Aye—if we can get to Caer Mahlod in time. For that is where he is. At Caer Mahlod, but dying. The Oak and the Ram alone will save him. Yet if they are not yours, whom must we ask to give them
to
us?"

"They were our wedding gifts," said the sweet-faced girl. ' 'They were the King's gifts to his son and to me this morning, when Guwinn lived. You may have the Oak of Gold and the Ram
of
Silver."

And she left the Hall and returned shortly bearing a casket. And she opened the casket and revealed a model of a spreading oak tree all worked in gold and so fine as to seem completely real. And beside it rested the silver image of a ram, each curl of wool seeming to be set in relief by the craftsman who made it. It was a ram with great, sweeping horns—a rampant ram whose silver eyes stared with a strange wisdom from the silver head.

And the maiden bowed her fair head and she closed the lid of the casket; and she handed it to Corum who accepted it with gratitude, thanking her, thanking King Daffyn.

"And now we go back to Caer Mahlod," said Corum.

"Tell Amergin, if he revives, that we shall follow him in any decision he makes," said King Daffyn.

"I will tell him," said Corum.

Then the Vadhagh Prince and the Sidhi Dwarf left that hall
of
mourning and went out through the gates of Caer Garanhir and joined their comrade Ilbrec, son of Manannan, the greatest
of
the Sidhi heroes.

And the fire flickered around the distant mist and now a peculiar fire had begun to sprout some distance from the walls of Caer Garanhir.

^‘
'The Sidhi fire protects this place," said Ilbrec.' 'It will not last, but it will dissuade the Fhoi Myore from attacking, I think. Now, we ride!'' He stuffed the sword Retaliator into his belt and bent to pick up Corum who clung to his casket as he was lifted into the air and sat upon Ilbrec's saddle near the pommel.' 'We shall need a boat when we reach the sea," said Corum as they began to move.

"Oh, I think not," said Ilbrec.

BOOK THREE

In which Prince Corum is witness to the power of the Oak and the Ram and the Mabden people find new hope ...

THE FIRST CHAPTER

THE ROAD ACROSS THE WATER

They had reached the beach before Corum became aware that Goffanon was lagging behind. He craned his head back and saw that the Sidhi Dwarf was some distance off, almost stumbling now and shaking his shaggy head from side to side. "What ails Goffanon?" Corum said.

Ilbrec had not noticed. Now he, too, looked back. "Perhaps he tires. He has fought long today and he has run many miles /' Ilbrec looked to the West, to where the sun was sinking. "Should we rest before crossing the sea?"

The gigantic horse Splendid Mane tossed his head as if to say that he did not wish to rest, but Ilbrec laughed and patted his neck.

"Splendid Mane hates to rest and loves only to be galloping the world. He has slept for so long in the caverns beneath the sea that he is impatient to be on the move! But we must let Goffanon catch up with us and then ask him what he feels."

Corum heard Goffanon's panting breath behind him and turned again, smiling, to ask the Sidhi Smith what he wished to do.

But Goffanon's eyes were glaring and Goffanon's lips were curled back in a foam-flecked snarl and the great double-bladed war-axe was aimed directly at Ilbrec's skull.

"Ilbrec!" Corum flung himself towards the ground and landed with a crash, managing to keep the chest containing the Oak and the Ram tucked firmly under his left arm. He drew his sword as he sprang upright, while Ilbrec turned, calling in puzzlement:

"Goffanon! Old friend? What's this?"

"He is enchanted!" Corum yelled. "A Mabden wizard has put him under a glamour. Calatin must be nearby!"

Ilbrec reached out to grasp the haft of the dwarf's war-axe, but Goffanon was strong. He pulled the giant from his saddle and the two immortals began to struggle upon the ground, close to the seawashed beach, while Corum and Splendid Mane looked on, the horse severely puzzled by his master's behavior.

Corum cried: "Goffanon! Goffanon! You fight a brother!"

Another voice floated down from above and looking up Corum saw a tall man standing on the edge of the cliff, a tendril or two of white, clinging mist drifting about his shoulders.

The world grew gray as the sun sank.

The figure on the cliff-edge was the Wizard Calatin, in a long pleated surcoat of soft leather stained a rich, deep blue. Upon his slender, gloved fingers were jeweled rings and at his throat a collar of jeweled gold, while his samite robe was embroidered with mystical designs. He stroked his gray beard and smiled his secret smile.

' 'He is my ally now, Corum of the Silver Hand,'' said the Wizard Calatin.

"And thus the ally of the Fhoi Myore!" Corum looked for a pathway up the cliff which would take him to the wizard. And all the while Goffanon and Ilbrec tumbled over and over on the sand, grunting and snorting in their exertions.

"For the moment, at least," said Calatin.' 'But one does not have to be loyal to either Mabden or Fhoi Myore—or Sidhi—there are other loyalties, loyalties to oneself among them, are there not? And, who knows, but you could be an ally of mine soon!"

‘ 'Never that! ‘' Corum began to run up a steep cliff path towards the wizard, his sword in his fleshly hand. "Never that, Calatin!"

Out of breath, Corum reached the top of the cliff and approached the wizard, who smiled and began to retreat slowly.

It was then that Corum saw the mist behind the wizard and he recognized the mist for what it was.

"Fhoi Myore! One of them is free!"

"He was never trapped by Ilbrec's sword. We followed behind the main force. This is Sreng. Sreng of the Seven Swords."

And the mist began to move towards Corum as darkness covered the world; and from below on the beach he still heard the pantings and gruntings of the two fighting Sidhi.

And through the mist he saw a huge wicker battlecart, large enough to take one as large as Ilbrec himself. The cart was drawn by two massive creatures which seemed most to resemble lizards, though they were not lizards. And from the cart now stepped a vast being with a white body all covered in red, pulsing warts, and the body was naked save for a belt. The belt was festooned with swords, making a sort of kilt. Corum looked up and he saw a face which was human in some respects and resembled the face of one he had known, long ago. The eyes were fierce and tragic. They were the eyes of the Earl of Krae, of Glandyth who had first struck off Corum's hand and put out his eye and so begun the long history of the fight against the Sword Rulers. But the eyes did not know Corum, though there was a flicker of recognition as they saw the silver hand fixed to his left wrist.

And from the torn folds of the mouth there sounded a booming noise.

"Lord Sreng," said the Wizard Calatin. "This is he who helped in the destruction at Caer Mahlod. This is he who engineered this day's defeat. This is Corum."

And Corum put down the casket in which reposed the Oak of Gold and the Ram of Silver and he spread his legs so that he stood firmly over the casket, and he reached to his belt and he took his dirk in his silver hand, and he prepared to defend himself against Sreng of the Seven Swords.

Sreng moved slowly, as if in pain, drawing two of his great swords from his belt.

"Slay Corum, Lord Sreng, and give me his body. Slay Corum and the Fhoi Myore will no longer be plagued by the resistance of the Mabden."