Chronicles of Corum (51 page)

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
..."

As if savoring its victory, the changeling moved slowly forward, raising its sword.

Corum felt a tugging at his left wrist. It was his silver hand and it had come alive of its own volition. He saw the straps and the pins loosen, he saw the silver hand rise up and travel swiftly to where Traitor lay, glowing in the moonlight.

"I am mad," said Corum. But he recalled how Medhbh had taken his hand away to put a charm upon it. He had forgotten, as, no doubt, had she.

Now the silver hand, which Corum had fashioned himself, took hold of the Sidhi-forged sword while the changeling looked wide-eyed at it and hissed, stumbling away from it, moaning.

And the silver hand drove the sword Traitor deep into the changeling's heart and the changeling yelled and fell and was dead.

Corum laughed.

''Farewell, brother! I was right to fear you, but you did not bring me my doom!"

The harp sounded louder now, coming from within the castle. Forgetful of his sword and his silver hand, Corum ran back into the castle, and there stood the Dagdagh, a youth all of gold, with sharp, beautiful features and deep, sardonic eyes, and he played upon a harp which seemed in some way to grow out of him and into him and was part of his body. And behind the Dagdagh Corum saw another whom he recognized, and it was Gaynor.

Corum wished that he had not forgotten his sword. He said:

"How I hate you, Gaynor. You slew Goffanon."

''Inadvertently. I have come to make peace with you, Corum.''

"Peace? You are my most terrible enemy and ever shall be!"

"Listen to the Dagdagh," said Gaynor the Damned. And the Dagdagh spoke—or rather he sang—and he said this to Corum:

"You are not welcome, mortal. Take your name-robe from the changeling's corpse and leave this world. You were brought here for one purpose. Now that purpose is achieved you must go."

"But I love Medhbh," said Corum. "I will not leave her!"

"You loved Rhalina and you see her in Medhbh."

Gaynor said urgently: "I speak without malice, Corum. Believe the Dagdagh. Come with me now. He has opened a door into a land where we can both know peace. It is true, Corum, I have been there briefly. Here is our chance to see an end to the eternal struggle."

Corum shook his head. "Perhaps you speak the truth, Gaynor. I see truth in the Dagdagh's eyes, too. But I must stay here. I love Medhbh."

"I have spoken to Medhbh,'' said the Dagdagh."She knows that it is wrong for you to remain in this world. You do not belong. Come, now, to the land where you and Gaynor will know contentment. It is a great reward I offer you, Eternal Champion. It is more than I could normally achieve."

"I must stay," said Corum.

The Dagdagh began to play upon his harp. The music was sweet and it was euphoric. It was the music of noble love, of selfless heroism. Corum smiled.

He bowed to the Dagdagh, thanking him for what he had offered, and he made a sigh of farewell to Gaynor. Then he walked out of the old doorway of Castle Erom and he saw that Medhbh was waiting for him on the other side. He smiled at her, lifting his right hand in greeting.

But she did not smile back. There was something in her own right hand which she now raised above her head and began to whirl. It was a sling. He looked at her in surprise. Did she seek to slay the Dagdagh, in whom she had put so much trust?

Something left the sling and struck him upon the forehead and he fell down, but he still lived, though his heart was in agony and his head was cracked. He felt the blood pour down his face.

And he saw that the Dagdagh loomed over him, looking down on him with an expression of sympathy. And Corum snarled at the Dagdagh.

"Fear a harp," said the Dagdagh in his high, sweet voice, "fear beauty," and he glanced across the chasm to where Medhbh stood weeping, "and fear a brother
..."

"Your harp it was that turned Medhbh's heart against me," said Corum. "I was right to fear that. And I should have feared her beauty, for it is what has destroyed me. But I slew the brother, I slew the Karach."

"No," said the Dagdagh, and he picked up the tathlum which Medhbh had hurled. "Here is your brother, Corum. His brain she mixed with lime to make the only thing which fate would allow to slay you. She took the brain from under the mound, from the mound of Cremm Croich, and, on my instructions, she made it. Cremm Croich slays Corum Llaw Ereint. You did not have to die."

"I could not deny her love," Corum managed to rise to his feet and put his left hand to his cracked skull, feeling the blood flow over it. "I love her still."

"I spoke to her. I told her what I would offer you and what she must do if you refused that offer. You have no place here, Corum.''

"So say you!" Corum gathered his strength and he lunged at the Dagdagh, but the youth of gold made a sign and Corum's silver hand appeared, still clutching the moon-colored sword Traitor.

And Corum heard Medhbh utter a shriek before the sword entered his heart at exactly the same spot it had entered the changeling's.

And he heard the Dagdagh say:

"Now this world is free of all sorcery and all demigods." Then Corum died.