Chronicles of Corum (40 page)

"You mentioned nothing of this when first we met," said Corum.

"For good reason," growled the Sidhi smith. "I would have mentioned nothing now, save that Artek spoke of it."

"Yet you speak only of general terrors, not of specific dangers,'' said Ilbrec reasonably.

"That," said Goffanon, "is because the specific dangers are indescribable." He got up. "We fight the Fhoi Myore without seeking such allies as the folk of Ynys Scaith. That way some of us might survive. The other way—we are all doomed. I speak the truth."

"As you see it," Corum could not resist saying. At this, Goffanon's face hardened. He picked up his axe, flung it onto his shoulder and left the tent without another word.

Amergin came to Corum’s chambers that night while Medhbh was elsewhere, visiting her father. He entered without knocking and Corum, who had been staring through the window at the fires of the camp, turned when he detected a footfall.

Amergin spread his thin hands. "I apologise for my rudeness, Prince Corum, but I wished to speak with you privately. I gather that you have angered Goffanon in some way."

Corum nodded. "There was a dispute."

"Concerning Ynys Scaith?"

"Aye."

"You had considered visiting the place?"

‘ ‘I am due to lead your army on the day after tomorrow. Clearly it would be impossible for me to do both.'' Corum indicated a carved chair. "Be seated, Archdruid."

Corum sat down upon his bed as Amergin lowered himself into the chair.

"Yet you would go, if you had no responsibilities here?" The High King spoke slowly, without looking at Corum.

"I think so. Ilbrec is for the venture."

"Your chances of survival would seem to be exceptionally slender."

"Perhaps." Corum rubbed at his eye-patch. "But then if we cared considerably about our survival we would not be engaged in this war against the Fhoi Myore."

"That is reasonable," said Amergin.

Corum tried to interpret the import of what Amergin was saying. "There are many reasons," he said, "why I should lead the Mabden. Morale must be kept as high as possible while we march through the cold lands."

"True," said Amergin. "I have been debating all this in my mind, as no doubt have you. But you will remember that
I
asked you earlier to persuade Goffanon to reveal the nature of these potential allies?
^,,

"You spoke of it this morning."

"Exactly. Well, since then I have meditated on this whole matter further and my conclusions are the same—we shall fare badly at Caer Llud. We shall be defeated by the Fhoi Myore unless we have magical assistance. We require supernatural aid, Prince Corum, beyond anything I can summon, beyond anything the Sidhi have at their disposal. And it appears that the only place from whence such help can be got is Ynys Scaith. I tell you all this knowing that you are discreet. Needless to say, our armies must set forth with every confidence of defeating the Fhoi Myore. Their morale would be harmed if you did not lead them, yet
I
think even with your leadership we should still be beaten. Thus, reluctantly,
I
conclude that our only hope lies in your being able to bargain with the folk of Ynys Scaith to come to our assistance."

"And what if I fail?"

"Dying men will curse you for a traitor, but your name will not be dishonored for long, for there will be no Mabden left to hate you.''

"Is there no other way. What of the lost treasures of the Mabden, the Sidhi gifts?"

"Those that remain are in Fhoi Myore hands. The Healing Cauldron is at Caer Llud. So is the Collar of Power. There was one other, but we were never sure of its nature or why it was amongst our treasures. That is lost."

"What was it?"

"An old saddle of cracked leather. We kept it faithfully, as we kept our other treasures, but I think it came with them by mistake."

"So you cannot recover this cauldron and collar until the Fhoi Myore are defeated." "Just so."

"Do you know anything more of the folk of Ynys Scaith?" "Only that they would, if they could, leave this plane of ours forever."

"So I have learned. Yet we are not, surely, powerful enough to help them to do this."

"If I had the Collar of Power," said Amergin, "I might, with other knowledge, be able to achieve their end for them."

"Goffanon thinks that any bargain with the folk of the Shadow Isle will cost us dear—too dear."

"If some of us survive, the cost will not be too much," said Amergin, "and I think some of us would live on."

"Perhaps life is not at stake. What other damage could they

do?"

"I do not know. If you think the risk too great
..."

"I have my own reasons, as well as yours, for visiting Ynys Scaith," Corum said.

"It would be best if you left without much ceremony," Amergin told him."I would inform our men that you have embarked upon a quest and that you will, if possible, rejoin us before the attack on Caer Llud. In the meantime, if Goffanon will not go to Ynys Scaith, let us hope he will lead the Mabden in your stead, for he knows Caer Llud."

"But he has a weakness, remember that," said Corum. "The wizard Calatin has power over him which can only be broken if Calatin loses the bag of spittle he holds. When you attack Caer Llud and if I have perished, seek Calatin out and slay him at once. I think of all those who side with the Fhoi Myore that Calatin is the most dangerous, for he is the most human."

"I will remember what you say, ‘ ‘ answered the Archdruid. "But I do not think you will perish upon Ynys Scaith, Corum."

"Perhaps not." Corum frowned. "Yet I sense that this world becomes increasingly inhospitable to me, as it does to the folk of the Isle of Shadows."

"You could speak truly," Amergin agreed. "The specific conjunction of the planes might, in your case, be unlucky."

Corum smiled. "That sounds like mysticism of doubtful veracity, High King."

"Truth often sounds so." The Archdruid rose. "When would you set forth for Ynys Scaith?"

"Soon. I must consult Ilbrec."

"Leave all other things to me," said Amergin, "and, I beg you, do not discuss our plan too fully with anyone, even Medhbh."

"Very well." Corum watched Amergin leave, wondering if the Archdruid were playing an even more complex game than he had guessed and that Corum was a piece he was preparing to sacrifice. He shrugged the thoughts away. Amergin's logic was good, particularly if his vision had been accurate and the Mabden army stood the chance of being totally defeated at Caer Llud. And soon after Amergin had gone, Corum followed him, making his way out of the fortress city, down the hill to Ilbrec's great tent.

Corum had returned to his chambers and was arming himself when Medhbh came in. She had expected to find him asleep and instead saw him dressed for war. "What's this? Do we march tomorrow?"

Corum shook his head. "I go to Ynys Scaith," he told her.

"You embark upon a private quest when you are due to lead us against Caer Llud?'' She laughed, wishing to believe that he joked.

Corum remembered Amergin's wish that he should say as little as possible about his reasons for the journey. "It is not a private quest," he replied. "Not wholly, at any rate."

"No?'' Her voice was shaking. She paced the room several times before continuing. "We should never have trusted one not of our own race. Why should we expect you to feel loyalty to our cause?''

"You know that I feel that loyalty, Medhbh.'' He walked toward her, arms outstretched, but she shook his hand away, turning to glare at him.

"You go to madness and death if you go to Ynys Scaith. You heard what Artek told us!" She tried to control her emotion. "If you go to Caer Llud with us, the worst that can happen to you is that your death will be a noble one."

"I will rejoin you at Caer Llud if that is possible. The army will travel much slower than shall I. There is every chance of my rejoining it even before the assault on Caer Llud."

"There is every chance of your never returning from Ynys Scaith," she said grimly.

He shrugged.

This gesture angered her further. Some word came half-formed from her lips, then she had walked to the door opened it and shut it with a crash behind her.

Corum began to follow her, then thought better of it, knowing that further argument would lead to further misunderstanding. He hoped that Amergin might explain his predicament to Medhbh at some time, or at least convince her that his need to visit Ynys Scaith was not wholly the result of a private obsession.

But it was with a heavy heart indeed that he left the castle and returned to the camp where Ilbrec awaited him.

The golden giant was caparisoned for war, his great sword Retaliator sheathed at his hip, his huge horse Splendid Mane prepared for riding. He was smiling, plainly excited by the prospect of their adventure; but Corum could feel nothing but pain as he tried to return the Sidhi’s smile.

"There is no time to waste," said Ilbrec. "As we agreed, we shall both ride Splendid Mane. He gallops faster than any mortal horse and will have us to Ynys Scaith and back in no time. I got the chart from Kawanh. There is naught else to keep us here."

"No," said Corum. "Naught else."

"You are irresponsible fools!"

Corum wheeled round to confront a Goffanon whose face was dark with rage. The Sidhi dwarf shook the fist which held his double-bladed war-axe and he snarled at them. "If you come back from Ynys Scaith alive then you will not be sane. You will be good for nothing. We need you on this march. The Mabden are expecting the three of us to lead them. Our presence gives them confidence. Do not go to Ynys Scaith. Do not go!"

"Goffanon," said Ilbrec reasonably, "in most things I respect your wisdom. In this matter, however, we must follow our own instincts."

"Your instincts are false if they lead you to destruction, to the betrayal of those you have sworn to serve! Do not go!"

"We go," said Corum in a quiet voice. "We must."

"Then an evil demon drives you and you are no longer my friends," said Goffanon. "You are no longer my friends."

"You should respect our motives, Goffanon
..."
began Corum, but he was cut off by the dwarf's cursing.

"Even if you return sane from Ynys Scaith—and I doubt that you will—you will bring your own doom with you. That is unquestionable. I have seen it. There has been a hint of it in my dreams of late."

With a certain defiance, Corum said:"The Vadhagh had a theory that dreams tell more about the man who dreams than about the world he dwells in. Could you have other motives for not wishing us to visit Ynys Scaith
...?’'

Goffanon glared at him contemptuously. "I go with the Mabden to Caer Llud," he said.

"Be careful of Calatin," said Corum earnestly.

"I think that Calatin was a better friend than are you two." Goffanon's back was bowed as he made to leave the camp.

"Well, must I decide?" The voice was light and ironic. It belonged to Jhary-a-Conel, who had emerged from the shadows and stood with his hand on his hip, his other hand to his chin, staring at the three of them from under tightly-drawn brows. "Must I decide between traveling to Ynys Scaith or Caer Llud? Are my loyalties divided?"

"You go to Caer Llud,'‘ said Corum. "Your wisdom and knowledge are required here. They are greater than mine
..."

"Whose would not be?" burst out Goffanon, still with his back to Corum.

"Go with Goffanon, Jhary," said Corum softly to the Companion to Champions. "Help guard him against Calatin's sorcery."

Jhary nodded. He touched Corum on the shoulder. "Goodbye, treacherous friend," he murmured. And the little smile on his lips was melancholy.

As they spoke, Ilbrec mounted Splendid Mane, his harness clattering. "Corum?"

Corum spoke sharply. "Goffanon. I am sure that I do what is most necessary to serve our cause best."

"You will pay a price," said Goffanon. "You will pay, Corum. Heed my warning."

Corum tapped a silver finger against the sword he now wore at his side. "My danger is lessened, however, thanks to your gift. I have faith in this blade you made. Do you say it will not protect me at all?"

Shaking his huge head from side to side as if in pain, Goffanon groaned. "That depends upon the uses to which it is put. But, by the souls of all the Sidhi heroes, great and dead, I wish that I had not forged it."