The Chronicles of Corum (38 page)

Jhary tried to smile. “Do you want me with you?”

“No. “

The first of the huge dogs leapt the wall and stood panting in the street, sniffing this way and that. They saw it in the distance.

Corum left them as they watched, going back down the steps within the palace, squeezing through the barricade at the entrance and walking out down the broad path, past the gates of the palace, until he stood in the main avenue looking towards the walls.

Some bushes were burning near-by. Gardens and lawns were littered with the dead and the near-dead. A small, winged cat circled over Corum’s head and then flew back towards the battlements.

More dogs had leapt the walls and, heads down, tongues panting, eyes wary, came slowly along the avenue to where the single small figure of Corum waited for them.

Behind the dogs the main gates of the city suddenly splintered, cracked and were forced down. The first of the horned bears waddled through, nostrils dilating, club ready.

Corum was seen to raise his hand to his jewelled eye then. He was seen to blanch and stagger slightly, he was seen to stretch out his sorcerous Hand of Kwll and it vanished so that it seemed he had only a stump on his wrist.

And then, all around him, frightful things suddenly appeared. Ghastly, ruined, misshapen things - the things which had been the followers of Prince Gaynor the Damned and were now loyal to Corum only because he promised them release if they would find new victims to imprison in the Cavern of Limbo.

Corum pointed with the Hand of Kwll which had now reappeared.

Rhalina turned her horrified gaze to Jhary-a-Conel who viewed the scene with a certain equanimity. “How can such - such maimed things hope to beat those dogs and those bears and the thousands of barbarians who follow behind them?”

Jhary said. “I do not know. I think Corum is testing their power. If they are beaten completely, then it means that the Hand of Kwll. and the Eye of Rhynn are all but useless to him and will not be able to save us if we try to escape.”

“And that is what he knew and did not speak of,” said Rhalina, nodding her beautiful head.

The creatures of Chaos began to race up the avenue towards the gigantic dogs and bears. The animals were puzzled, growling a little, but not sure whether these were friends or foes.

Scampering, malformed things they were, many with limbs missing, many with huge gaping wounds, some with no heads, some with no legs at all, so that they clung to their fellows or, where they could, propelled themselves on their hands. A wretched mob with but one advantage - and that was that they were already dead.

Down the long, desolated avenue they poured and the dogs barked, their voices reverberating among the roofs of ruined Halwyg, warning the creatures to go back.

But the creatures came on. They could not stop. To slay the Army of the Dog and the Army of the Bear was to assure their release from terrifying Limbo -

to assure that their souls might die completely - and true death was all they sought now.

Corum remained where he was at the end of the avenue and he could not believe that such wounded creatures could possibly overcome the fierce and agile beasts. He saw that all the bears had entered the gates and that the barbarians were crowding in behind them, led by King Lyr and King Cronekyn.

He hoped that even if the Chaos things were not successful a part of an hour might be granted Halwyg before the attack on the palace began.

He looked back, behind the palace, to where the roof of the Temple of Law could just be seen. Was Arkyn there? Was Arkyn waiting to see what would happen?

The dogs began to snap at the first of the Chaos creatures to reach them. One of the huge beasts flung its head back with an armless, struggling living-dead thing in its jaws. It shook it and flung it aside, but it began to crawl towards the dog again, the moment it had fallen. The dog flattened its ears and its tail drooped when it saw this.

Large as they were, thought Corum, fierce as they were, they were still dogs.

It was one of the things he had counted upon.

The bears moved forward, red mouths glistening with white fangs, clubs and shields raised, striking about them with their bludgeons so that Chaos creatures were flung in all directions. But they did not die. They picked themselves up and they attacked again.

Chaos creatures clung to the fur of the dogs and the bears. One dog went down at last, threshing on its back as Corum’s maimed corpses tore out its throat.

Corum smiled an unpleasant smile.

But now he saw that what he feared might happen was happening. Lyr-a-Brode was leading his riders around the fighting beasts. They moved warily, but they were beginning to fill the approach to the long avenue.

Corum turned and ran back towards the palace.

Before he had reached the roof the barbarians were pouring down the avenue towards the palace, while behind them the Army of the Dog and the Army of the Bear still struggled with the living-dead Chaos creatures.

Arrows whirred from the windows of the palace and Corum saw that King Cronekyn was one of the first to fall with an arrow in each eye. King Lyr-a-Brode was better armoured than his brother monarch and the arrows merely bounced off his helmet and breastplate. He waved his sword in mockery of the archers and flung his barbarians against the palace. They began to batter down the barricades.

A captain of the Royal Guard came running to the roof. “We can hold the lower floors a few moments longer, Prince Corum, but that is all.”

Corum nodded. “Retreat as slowly as you can. We’ll join you soon.”

Rhalina said: “What did you think would happen down there, Corum?”

“I have a feeling that Xiombarg is exerting great pressures on this Realm since I destroyed Prince Gaynor. I thought she might have the power to turn those things upon me.”

“But she cannot personally come to this Realm,” Rhalina said. “We were told that. It would be to sin against the Rule of the Balance and even the Great Old Gods will not defy the Cosmic Balance so openly.”

“Perhaps,” said Corum. “But I am beginning to suspect that Xiombarg’s fury is so great she may attempt to break through into this Realm.”

“That will mean the end of us without doubt,” she murmured. “What is Arkyn doing?”

“Engaging himself with what he can. He cannot interfere directly in our aid -

and I suspect that he, too, prepares himself for Xiombarg. Come, we had best join the defenders.”

They were two flights down when they saw the retreating warriors vainly trying to force back the roaring barbarians who pressed blindly upwards, careless of the threat of death. The captain who had earlier addressed Corum spread his hands hopelessly. “There are more detachments elsewhere in the palace, but I fear they’re as hard-pressed as us.”

Corum looked at the steps which were crowded with the invaders. The wall of guards was thin and would soon break. “Then we must go to the roof,” he said,

“At least we will be able to hold them there a little longer. We must conserve our forces as best we can.”

“But we are defeated are we not, Prince Corum?” said the captain calmly.

“I fear so, captain. I fear so.”

And then, from somewhere, they heard a scream. It was not a human scream and yet it was plainly a scream of pure anger.

Rhalina covered her face with her hands. “Xiombarg?” she whispered. “It is Xiombarg’s voice, Corum.”

Corum’s mouth was dry. He could not answer her. He licked his lips.

The scream came again. But there was another sound with it - a humming which rose higher and higher in pitch until it hurt their ears.

“The roof!” Corum cried. “Quickly.” Gasping for breath they reached the roof and flung up their arms to protect their eyes against the powerful lights which swam in the sky and obscured the sun.

Corum saw it first. Xiombarg’s face, contorted with insensate fury, huge upon the horizon, her auburn hair flowing as clouds might flow across the sky, a mighty sword in her hand, large enough to slice the whole world in twain.

“It is she,” groaned Rhalina. “The Queen of the Swords. She has defied the Balance and she has come to destroy us.”

“Look there!” Jhary-a-Conel. cried. “That is why she is here. She has followed them to our Realm! They have escaped her. All her plans were thwarted and she defied the Balance in her impotence and her rage!”

It was the City in the Pyramid. It hovered in the sky over battered Halwyg-nan-Vake, its green light flickering and threatening to fade and then bursting into increased brilliance. From the City in the Pyramid came the whining sound they had heard.

Something left the city and flew down towards the palace. Corum turned away from the image of Xiombarg’s raging face and her waving sword and he watched the Sky Ship descend. In it was the King Without a Country. He held something in his arms.

The Sky Ship settled on the roof and the King Without a Country smiled at Corum. “A gift,” he said. “In return for your help to Gwlãs-cor-Gwrys...”

“I thank you,” Corum said, “but this is no time ---”

“The gift has powers. It is a weapon. Take it.”

Corum took the thing. It was a cylinder covered in peculiar designs and with a spade-grip at one end. The other end tapered.

“It is a weapon,” repeated Noreg-Dan. “It will destroy those at whom you point it.” “

Corum looked at the vision of Xiombarg, heard her screaming begin again, saw her raise the sword. He pointed it at her.

“No,” said the King Without a Country. “Not Xiombarg for she is a Great Old God - a Sword Ruler. Your mortal enemies.”

Corum rushed to the stairs and descended. The barbarians, King Lyr now leading them, had reached the last flight.

“Point it and press the handle,” called Noreg-Dan.

Corum pointed at King Lyr-a-Brode. The tall king was striding up the stairs, his braided beard fluttering, his bearing triumphant and all his huge Grim Guard behind him. He saw Corum and he laughed.

“Do you wish to surrender, last of the Vadhagh?” And Corum laughed back at him. “I am not the last of the Vadhagh, King Lyr-a-Brode, as this shows you.”

He pressed the grip and suddenly the king clutched at his chest, choked and fell backwards into the arms of his Guard, his tongue protruding from his lips, his grey braids falling over his eyes.

“He is dead!” shrieked the leader of the Grim Guard. “Our king! Vengeance!”

Waving his sword he rushed at Corum. But again Corum depressed the grip and he, too, died in the manner of his king. Corum pointed the weapon several times. Each time a Grim Guard fell until there were no more Grim Guards living.

He looked back at the King Without a Country. Noreg-Dan was smiling. “We used such things against Xiombarg’s minions. That is one of the reasons why she expresses such rage. It will take her time to create new mortal things to do her work.”

“But she has defied the Balance in one thing,” Corum said. “She may defy it in another.”

The monstrous, beautiful, furious face of the Queen of the Swords rose higher over the horizon and now her shoulders could be seen, her breasts, her waist.

“AH! CORUM! DREADFUL ASSASSIN OF ALL I LOVE!”

The voice was so loud that it made Corum’s ears throb with pain. He staggered backwards against the battlements, watching, transfixed, as the great sword filled the sky and Xiombarg’s eyes blazed like two mighty suns. She was engulfing the world with her presence. The sword began to fall and Corum readied himself for death. Rhalina rushed to his arms and they hugged one another.

Then: “YOU HAVE MOCKED THE RULING OF THE COSMIC BALANCE, SISTER XIOMBARG!”

Against the far horizon stood Arkyn, as gigantic as the Queen of the Swords.

Lord Arkyn of Law in all his godly finery, with a sword in his hand as large as Xiombarg’s. And the city and its inhabitants were more insignificant than a tiny ant-nest and its occupants would be to two humans confronting each other in a meadow.

“YOU HAVE MOCKED THE BALANCE, QUEEN OF THE SWORDS.”

“I AM NOT THE FIRST!”

“THERE IS ONLY ONE WHO HAS SURVIVED AND HE IS THE NAMELESS FORCE! YOU HAVE

RELINQUISHED YOUR RIGHT TO RULE YOUR REALM!”

“NO! THE BALANCE HAS NO POWER OVER ME!”

“BUT IT HAS...”

And the Cosmic Balance, that Corum had seen once before in a vision after he had banished Arioch of Chaos, appeared in the sky between Lord Arkyn and Queen Xiombarg, and it was so great that it dwarfed them.

“IT HAS,” said a voice that was not the voice of Xiombarg or Arkyn.

And the Balance began to tip towards Arkyn.

“IT HAS.”

Queen Xiombarg screamed in fear and it was a scream that shook the whole world and threatened to send it spinning from its course about the sun.

“IT HAS.”

The sword that was the symbol of her power was wrenched effortlessly from her hand and appeared for an instant in the bowl of the Balance which tilted towards Lord Arkyn.

“NO!” begged Queen Xiombarg. “IT WAS A TRICK - ARKYN PLANNED THIS. HE LURED 

ME HERE. HE KNEW...” 

Her voice was fading. “He knew... He knew...”

And the substance of Queen Xiombarg began to disperse. It drifted away like wisps of cloud and then was gone.

For a moment the Cosmic Balance remained framed in the sky, then that, too, disappeared.

Only Lord Arkyn remained now, all clothed in white radiance, his white sword in his hand.

“IT IS DONE!” said his voice and it seemed that warmth flooded through all the world.

“IT IS DONE!”

Corum cried, “Lord Arkyn! Did you know that Xiombarg’s fury would be so great that she would risk the Wrath of the Balance and enter this Realm.”

“I HOPED IT. I MERELY HOPED IT.”

“Then much of what you have asked me to do was with this in mind?”

“AYE.”

Corum thought of all the bitterness he had experienced, all the strife. He thought of Prince Gaynor’s thousands of faces flickering before him...

“I could come to hate all gods,” he said.

“IT WOULD BE YOUR RIGHT. WE MUST USE MORTALS FOR ENDS WE CANNOT OURSELVES

ACHIEVE.”

And then Lord Arkyn had vanished also and all that was left were the circling Sky Ships of Gwlãs-cor-Gwrys sending down invisible death to the shrieking, terrified barbarians who were scattering now all over the churned lawns, avenues and gardens of Halwyg-nan-Vake.