The Oak and the Ram - 04 (18 page)

Oak Woman slept in sanctuary.

A word would wake her. The tenth great fight grew near.

The word was sought.

The word was lost.

Three heroes sought it. Goffanon sang a song.

The word was found.

None moved as Goffanon's song ended. The Sidhi Smith lowered his head and rested his head upon his chin, waiting.

From the prone figure who lay upon the crown of the mound there came a small, weak sound, at first little more than the familiar, tragic bleating.

Goffanon raised his head, listening carefully. The note of the bleating changed for a brief instant and then faded.

Goffanon turned to face those who waited. He spoke in a low, tired voice: "The word is 'Dagdagh.' "

And as he heard the word Corum gasped, for an awful shock ran through his whole body and made him stagger, made his heart pound and his head swim, though the word meant nothing to his conscious mind. He saw Jhary-a-Conel turn, white-faced, and stare at him.

And then the harp began to play.

Corum had heard the harp before. It was the harp which had sounded from Castle Erom when he had first come to Caer Mahlod. It was the harp he had heard in dreams. Now only the tune was different. This tune was rousing and triumphant; a tune of bounding confidence, a laughing tune.

He heard Ilbrec whisper in astonishment: "The Dagdagh harp 1
1
thought it stilled forever."

Corum felt that he drowned. He drew great gulps of air into his lungs as he sought to control his terror. He looked fearfully behind him amongst the dark trees, but he saw nothing save the shadows.

And when he looked back at the mound he was half-blinded, for the Golden Oak was growing, its golden branches spreading over the heads of those who watched and emitting a marvelous radiance. And Corum's fear was forgotten in his wonderment. Still the Golden Oak grew until it seemed to cover the whole mound and Amergin 's body could just be discerned beneath it. And all who watched were transfixed as from the oak there stepped a maiden as tall as Ilbrec himself; a woman whose hair was the green of oak-leaves and whose garment was the deep brown of an oak's trunk and whose skin was as pale as the flesh of the oak which lies beneath the bark. And she was Oak Woman, smiling and speaking:

"I recall my pledge. I recall the prophecy. I know you, Goffanon, but I do not know these others."

"They are Mabden, save for Corum and Ilbrec. They are a good folk, Oak Woman, and they revere the oaks. See, oaks grow all around, for this is their place of power, their Holy Place.'' Goffanon spoke almost hesitantly, seeming as impressed by this vision as were the Mabden. ' 'Ilbrec is your friend's son, Manannan's son. Of the Sidhi only he and I remain. And Corum is our kinsman, of the Vadhagh race. The Fhoi Myore have returned and we fight them, but we are weak. Amergin, High King of the Mabden, lies at your feet, enchanted. His soul has become the soul of a sheep and we cannot find the soul he lost."

"I will find his soul," said Oak Woman, smiling slightly, "if that is your need."

"It is, Oak Woman."

The Oak Woman looked upon Amergin. She bent and listened to his heart, then listened near his lips. "His body dies," she said.

There was a groan from all who watched save Corum and Corum was listening for the sound of the terrible harp, but it sounded no longer.

Then Oak Woman took the Silvern Ram from Amergin's feet.

' 'This was the prophecy,' ‘ she said,' 'that the Ram must be given a soul. Now the soul of Amergin begins to leave his body and provides a soul for the Ram. Amergin must die."

"No!" a score of lips shouted the word.

"But you must wait," said Oak Woman chidingly with a smile. She placed the Ram at Amergin's head, crying:

Soul speeding to the Mother Sea;

Lamb bleating at the rising moon; Pause soul, silence lamb!

Here is your home!

Now the bleating began afresh, but this time it was a lusty bleating, the bleating of a newborn lamb. And the voice came from the Silvern Ram as the moonlight fell upon its silver fleece and even as they watched they saw it grow and the bleating grew deeper and turned to a deep, lowing sound. And the Silvern Ram turned its head and its eyes had the same intelligence which Corum had witnessed in the eyes of the Black Bull of Crinanass. He knew then that this animal, like the Bull, was one of a flock which the Sidhi had brought with them when they came to this Realm. The Ram saw the Oak Woman and it ran to her and nuzzled her hand.

Then Oak Woman smiled again, turning her head towards the sky, calling:

Soul dwelling in the Mother Sea,

Leave your tranquil haven. Your earthly destiny is yet unfinished.

Here is your home!

And the body of the High King stirred as if in sleep. And the hands crept to the face and the eyes opened and upon those blank features there was now written an expression of peace and wisdom. Where age had lined the flesh there was now youth, and where the limbs had been feeble there was now strength. And a cool, well-timbred voice said with faint astonishment:

"I am Amergin."

Then the Archdruid rose up, tearing off the sheepskin hood and releasing his fair hair so that it fell upon his shoulders. And he ripped the sheepskin clothing from his body to reveal a form that was naked and beautiful and clad only in bracelets of hammered red gold. And now Corum knew why the folk had mourned for their High King, for Amergin radiated both humility and dignity, wisdom and humanity.

"Yes," he said, touching his breast and speaking wonderingly, "I am Amergin."

Now a hundred swords flashed in the moonlight as the Mabden saluted their Archdruid.

"Hail, Amergin! Hail, Amergin of the family of Amergin!"

And many men were there who wept for joy and embraced each other, and even the Sidhi, Goffanon and Ilbrec, raised their weapons in salute to Amergin.

The Oak Woman lifted her hand and she pointed a white finger through the throng to where Corum stood, still full of fear and unable to join the others in their joy.

"You are Corum," said Oak Woman. "You saved the High King and you found the Oak and the Ram. You are the Mabden Champion now."

"So I am told," said Corum in a small, tortured voice.

"You shall be great in the memories of this folk," said Oak Woman, "yet you shall know little lasting happiness here."

"I understand that also," said Corum, and he sighed.

"Your destiny is a noble one," continued Oak Woman, "and I thank you for your dedication to that destiny. You have saved the High King and enabled me to keep my word."

"You have slept all this time in the Golden Oak?" said Corum. "You have waited for this day?"

"I have slept and I have waited."

"But what power kept you upon this plane?" he asked, for this question had been puzzling him since Oak Woman had appeared. "What great power was it, Oak Woman?"

"The power of my pledge," she said.

"Naught else?"

"Why should aught else be necessary?"

And then the Oak Woman stepped back into the trunk of the Golden Oak and was followed by the Silvern Ram and the light from the oak began to fade. Then the outlines of the oak itself began to fade and then the Golden Oak, the Silvern Ram and Oak Woman were gone and were never afterward seen again in mortal lands.

THE FOURTH CHAPTER

THE DAGDAGH HARP

Now the folk of Caer Mahlod carried their High King Amergin joyfully back to their fortress city and many danced as they moved through the moonlit forest. There were broad grins upon the faces of Goffanon and Ilbrec, who was mounted on his black horse Splendid Mane.

And only Corum's brow was clouded, for he had heard words from Oak Woman which were less than cheering, and he lagged behind and was late in entering the King's hall.

Their own good spirits clouding their vision, none of the others saw that Corum did not smile, and they slapped him upon his shoulders and they toasted him and they honored him as much as they honored their own High King.

And the feasting began, and the drinking, and the singing to the sound of the Mabden harps.

So Corum, seated beside Medhbh on one side and King Mannach on the other, drank a considerable amount of sweet mead and tried to drive the memory of the harp from his mind.

He saw King Mannach lean across to where Goffanon was seated next to Ilbrec (who was manfully showing no discomfort as he sat cramped and cross-legged beside the bench) and ask: "How knew you the incantation which raised the Oak Woman, Sir Goffanon?"

"I knew no special incantation," said Goffanon, lifting a cauldron of mead from his lips and setting it upon the table. ‘ 'I trusted to my hidden memories and the memories of my people. I hardly heard the words of the song myself. They came almost unbidden from my lips. I relied upon this to reach both the Oak Woman and Amergin's spirit wherever it drifted. It was Amergin himself who gave me the word which in turn produced that music which, in its turn, began the transformation."

' 'Dagdagh," said Medhbh, unaware that Corum shuddered at the sound. "An old word. A name, perhaps?" "A title, also. A word of many meanings." "A Sidhi name?"

"I think not—though it is associated with the Sidhi. The Dagdagh led the Sidhi into battle on more than one occasion. I am young, you see, as the Sidhi measure age, and I took part in only two of the nine historic fights against the Fhoi Myore. By that time the name of the Dagdagh was no longer spoken. I know not why, save that there was a hint that Dagdagh had betrayed our cause."

"Betrayed it? Not this night, surely?"

"No," said Goffanon, his brow darkening a trifle. "Not this night.'' And he raised the cauldron to his lips and took a thoughtful swig.

Jhary-a-Conel left his seat and came to stand behind Corum. "Why so pensive, old friend?"

Corum was grateful that Jhary had noticed his mood and at the same time did not wish to spoil Jhary's celebration. He smiled as best he could and shook his head:' 'Weariness, I suppose. I've slept little of late."

"That harp," continued Medhbh and Corum wished that she would stop. " I recall hearing a similar harp.'' She turned to Corum. "At Castle Owyn when we rode there once."

' 'Aye," he murmured. ‘ 'At Castle Owyn.''

"A mysterious harp," said King Mannach, "but I for one am grateful to it and would hear its music again if it brings us such gifts as the restoration of our High King,'' and he raised his mead-hom to toast Amergin who sat smiling and calm, but drinking little, at the head of the table. ‘ 'Now we shall mass," said King Mannach,' 'all the folk of the Mabden who remain. We shall build a great army and we shall ride against the Fhoi Myore. And this time we shall leave none alive!"

"Brave words," said Ilbrec, "but we need more than courage. We need weapons such as my sword Retaliator. We need cunning— aye, and caution where it suits our cause."

"You speak wisely, Sir Sidhi," said Amergin. "You echo my own thoughts." His old and yet youthful face was full of good humor as if he were not troubled one bit by the great problem of the Fhoi Myore. He wore a robe now of loose yellow samite bordered with designs of blue and red, and his hair was braided and lay upon his back.

"With Amergin to counsel us and Corum to lead us into war," said King Mannach, "I believe that I am not foolish to show some optimism." He smiled at Corum. "We grow stronger. Not long-since our lives seemed lost and our race destroyed, but now
..."

' 'Now,'' said Corum finishing a whole hom of mead and wiping his lips upon the back of his silver hand, "now we celebrate great victories." Unable to control himself he rose from the bench, stepped over it, and strode from the hall. He walked into the night, through the streets of Caer Mahlod—streets which were filled with merrymakers, with music and with laughter—and he went through the gate and over the turf toward where the distant sea boomed. And at last he stood alone upon the brink of the chasm which separated him from the ruins of his old home, Castle Erom, which this folk called Castle Owyn and thought a formation of natural rock.

In the moonlight the ruins glowed and Corum wished that he could fly across the gulf and enter Castle Erorn and find a gateway back to his own world. There he had been lonely, but that was not the loneliness he felt now. Now he had a sense of complete desolation.