"The world seems full of fragments of Gods," Corum murmured. He turned and saw that the Mabden warriors were no longer frozen. They were rubbing at their faces, sheathing their swords.

  Corum spoke to the nearest. "Why did you seek the heart of Arioch?"

  "Through no choice of my own. A sorcerer sent me, offering me my life in return for stealing the heart from Arioch's palace."

  "Was this Shool?"

  "Aye—Shool. Prince Shool,"

  Corum looked at the others. They were all nodding. "Shool sent me!" "And me!"

  "And Shool sent me," said Corum. "I had not realized he had tried so many times before."

  "It is a game Arioch plays with him," murmured one of the Mabden warriors. "I learned that Shool has little power of his own at all. Arioch gives Shool the power he thinks is his own, for Arioch enjoys the sport of having an enemy with whom he can play. Every action Arioch makes is inspired by nothing but boredom. And now you have his heart. Plainly he did not expect the game to get so out of hand."

  "Aye," Corum agreed. "It was only Arioch's carelessness that allowed me to reach this place. Now, I return. I must find a way from the palace before he realizes what has happened."

  "May we come with you?" the Mabden asked.

  Corum nodded. "But hurry." They crept back down the ramp.

  Halfway down, one of the Mabden screamed, flailed at the air, staggered to the edge of the ramp, and went drifting down into the sparkling emptiness.

  Their pace increased until they reached the tiny crack at the bottom of the huge door and crawled through it, one by one.

  Down the ramp of light they went. Through the gallery of coruscating marble. Down the stairway into the darkened hall.

  Corum sought the silver door through which he had entered the palace. He made one complete circuit of the hall and his feet were aching before he realized that the door had vanished.

  The hall was suddenly alive with light again and the vast, fat figure Corum had originally seen was laughing on the floor, lying amidst filth, with the Mabden parasites peering from out of the air beneath his arms, from his navel, from his ears.

  "Ha, ha! You see, Corum, I am kind! I have let you have almost everything you desired of me. You even have my heart! But I cannot let you take it away from me, Corum. Without my heart, I could not rule here. I think I will restore it into this flesh of mine."

  Corum's shoulders slumped. "He has tricked us," he said to his terrified Mabden companions.

  But one Mabden said, "He has used you, Sir Vadhagh. He could never have taken his heart himself. Did you not know that?"

  Arioch laughed and his belly shook and Mabden fell to the floor. "True! True! You have done me a service, Prince Corum. The heart of each Sword Ruler is kept in a place that is banned to him, so that the others may know that he dwells only in his own domain and may travel to no other, thus he cannot usurp some rival ruler's power. But you, Corum, with your ancient blood, with your peculiar characteristics, were able to do that which I am unable to do. Now I have my heart and I may extend my domain wherever I choose. Or not, of course, if I choose not to."

  "Then I have helped you," Corum said bitterly, “when I wished to hinder you . . ."

  Arioch's laughter filled the hall. "Yes. Exactly. A fine joke, eh? Now, give me my heart, little Vadhagh.”

  Corum pressed his back to the wall and drew his blade. He stood there with the heart of Arioch in his left hand and his sword in his right. "I think I will die first, Arioch."

  "As you please."

  The monstrous hand reached out for Corum. He dodged it, Arioch bellowed with laughter again and plucked two of the Mabden warriors from the floor. They screamed and writhed as he drew them toward his great, wet mouth, full of blackened teeth. Then he popped them into his maw and Corum heard their bones crunch. Arioch swallowed and spat out a sword. Then he returned his gaze to Corum.

  Corum jumped behind a pillar. Arioch's hand came round it, feeling for him. Corum ran.

  More laughter, and the hall reverberated. The God's mirth was echoed by the tittering voices of his Mabden parasites. A pillar crashed as Arioch struck at it, seeking Corum.

  Corum dashed across the floor of the hall, leaping over the broken bodies of the Mabden who had fallen from the corpulent body of the God.

  And then Arioch saw him, seized him, and his chuckles subsided.

  "Give me my heart now."

  Corum gasped for breath and freed his two hands from the soft flesh that enclosed him. The giant's great hand was warm and filthy. The nails were broken.

  "Give me my heart, Little Being."

  "No!" Corum drove his sword deep into the thumb, but the God did not notice. Mabden clung to the hair of the chest and watched, their grins blank.

  Corum's ribs were near to breaking, but still he would not release the Heart of Arioch that lay in his left fist.

  "No matter," said Arioch, his grip relaxing a trifle, "I can absorb both you and the heart at the same time."

  Now Arioch began to carry his great hand toward his open mouth. His breath came out in stinking blasts and Corum choked on it, but still he stabbed and stabbed. A grin spread over the gigantic lips. All Corum could see now was that mouth, the scabrous nostrils, the huge eyes. The mouth opened wider to swallow him. He struck at the upper Up, staring into the red darkness of the God's throat.

  Then his left hand contracted. It squeezed the heart of Arioch. Corum's own strength could not have done it, but once again the Hand of Kwli was possessed of a power of its own. It squeezed.

  Arioch's laughter faded. The vast eyes widened and a new light filled them. A bellow came from the throat. The Hand of Kwll squeezed tighter still. Arioch shrieked.

  The heart began to crumble in the hand. Rays of a reddish blue light sprang from between Corum's fingers. Pain flooded up his arm.

  There was a high whistling sound. Arioch began to weep. His grasp on Corum weakened. He staggered backward.

  "No, Mortal. No . . ." The voice was pathetic. "Please, Mortal, we can . . ."

  Corum saw the God's bloated form begin to melt into the air. The hand that held him began to lose its shape.

  And then Corum was falling toward the floor of the hall, the broken pieces of Arioch's heart scattering as he fell. He landed with a crash, tried to rise, saw what was left of Arioch's body writhing in the air, heard a mournful sound, and then Corum lost consciousness, hearing, as he did so, Arioch's last whispered words.

  "Corum of the Vadhagh. You have won the eternal bane of the Sword Rulers . . ."

  The Eighth Chapter

  A Pause In The Struggle

  Corum saw a procession passing him.

  Beings of a hundred different races marched or rode or were carried in that procession and he knew that he watched all the mortal races that had ever existed since Law and Chaos had begun their struggle for domination over the multitudinous planes of the Earth. In the distance, he saw the banners of Law and of Chaos raised, side by side, the one bearing the eight radiating arrows, the other bearing the single straight arrow of Law. And over all this hung a huge balance in perfect equilibrium. In each of the balance's cups were marshaled other beings, not mortal. Corum saw Arioch and the Lords of Chaos in one and he saw the Lords of Law in the other.

  And Corum heard a voice which said, "This is as it should be. Neither Law nor Chaos must dominate the destinies of the mortal planes. There must be equilibrium."

  Corum cried out, "But there is no equilibrium. Chaos rules All!"

  The voice replied, saying, "The balance sometimes tips, It must be righted. And that is the power of mortals, to adjust the balance."

  "How may I do that?"

  "You have begun the work already. Now you must continue until it is finished. You may perish before it is complete, but some other will follow you."

  Corum shouted, "I do not want this. I cannot bear such a burden!"

  "YOU MUST!"

  The procession marched on, not seeing Corum, not seeing
the two banners flying, not seeing the Cosmic Balance that hung over them.

  Corum hung in cloudy space and his heart was at peace.

  Shapes began to appear and then he saw that he was back in Arioch's hall. He sought for his sword, but it was gone.

  "I will return your sword before you leave, Prince Corum of the Vadhagh."

  The voice was level and it was clear.

  Corum turned.

  He drew a sudden breath. "The Giant of Laahr!" The sad, wise face smiled down on him. "I was called that, when I was in exile. But now I am no longer exiled and you may address me by my true name. I am Lord Arkyn and this is my palace. Arioch has gone. Without his heart he cannot assume flesh on these planes. Without flesh, he cannot wield power. I rule here now, as I ruled before."

  The being's substance was still shadowy, though not as formless as before.

  Lord Arkyn smiled. "It will take time before I assume my old form. Only by a great power of will did I enable myself to remain on this plane at all. I did not know when I rescued you, Corum, that you would be the cause of my restoration. I thank you."

  "I thank you, my lord."

  "Good breeds good," Lord Arkyn said. "Evil breeds evil."

  Corum smiled, "Sometimes, my lord.”

  Lord Arkyn chuckled quietly. "Aye, you are right—sometimes. Well, mortal, I must return you to your own plane."

  "Can you transport me to a particular place, my lord?"

  "I can, Prince in the Scarlet Robe."

  "Lord Arkyn, you know why I embarked upon this course of mine. I sought the remnants of the Vadhagh race, my folk. Tell me, are they all gone now?"

  Lord Arkyn lowered his head. "All, save you."

  "And cannot you restore them?"

  "The Vadhagh were always the mortals I loved most, Prince Conun. But I have not the power to reverse the very cycle of time. You are the last of the Vadhagh. And yet . . ." Lord Arkyn paused. "And yet there might come a moment when the Vadhagh will return. But I see nothing clearly and I must speak no more of that."

  Corum sighed. "Well, I must be content. And what of Shool? Is Rhalina safe?"

  "I think so. My senses are still not capable of seeing all that happens and Shool was a thing of Chaos and is therefore much harder for me to see. But I believe that Rhalina is in danger, though Shool's power has waned with the passing of Arioch."

  "Then send me, I beg you, to Svi-an-Fanla-Brool, for I love the Margravine."

  "It is your capacity for love that makes you strong, Prince Corum."

  "And my capacity for hate?"

  "That directs your strength."

  Lord Arkyn frowned, as if there was something he could not understand.

  "You are sad in your triumph, Lord Arkyn? Are you always sad?"

  The Lord of Law looked at Corum, almost in surprise. "I suppose I am still sad, yes. I mourn for the Vadhagh as you mourn. I mourn for the one who was killed by your enemy, Glandyth-a-Krae—the one you called the Brown Man,"

  "He was a good creature. Does Glandyth still bring death across the land of Bro-an-Vadhagh?"

  "He does. You will meet him again, I think."

  "And then I will till him."

  "Possibly."

  Lord Arkyn vanished. The palace vanished.

  Sword in hand, Corum stood before the low, twisted door that was the entrance to Shool's dwelling. Behind him, in the garden, the plants craned up to drink the rain that fell from a pale sky.

  A peculiar calm hung over the dark and oddly formed building, but without hesitation Conun plunged into it and began to run down eccentric corridors,

  "Rhalina! Rhalina!" The house muffled his shouts no matter how loudly he uttered them.

  "Rhalina!"

  Through the murky dwelling he ran until he heard a whining voice he recognized. Shool!

  "Shool! Where are you?"

  "Prince Shool. I will be given my proper rank. You mock me now my enemies have beaten me."

  Corum entered a room and there was Shool. Corum recognized only the eyes. The rest was a withered, decrepit thing that lay upon a bed, unable to move.

  Shool whimpered. "You, too, come to torment me now that I am conquered. Thus it always is with mighty men brought low."

  "You only rose because it suited Arioch's sense of humor to let you."

  "Silence! I will not be deceived. Arioch has taken vengeance upon me because I was more powerful than he."

  "You borrowed, without knowing it, a fraction of his power. Arioch is gone from the Five Planes, Shool. You set events in motion which resulted in his banishment. You wanted his heart so that you might make him your slave. You sent many Mabden to steal it. All failed. You should not have sent me, Shool, for I did not fail and it resulted in your undoing."

  Shool sobbed and shook his haggard head.

  "Where is Rhalina, Shool. If she is harmed . . ."

  "Harmed?" A hollow laugh from the wizened Hps. "I harm her? It is she who placed me here. Take her away from me. I know she means to poison me."

  "Where is she?"

  "I gave you gifts. That new hand, that new eye. You would be crippled still if I had not been kind to you. But you will not remember my generosity, I know. You will—"

  "Your 'gifts,' Shool, near crippled my soul! Where is Rhalina?"

  "Promise you will not hurt me, if I tell you?"

  "Why should I wish to hurt so pathetic a thing as you, Shool? Now, tell me."

  "At the end of the passage is a stair. At the top of the stair is a room. She has locked herself in. I would have made her my wife, you know. It would have been magnificent to be the wife of a God. An immortal. But she . . ."

  "So you planned to betray me?"

  "A God may do as he chooses."

  Corum left the room, ran down the passage and up the short flight of stairs, hammering with the hilt of his sword upon the door. "Rhalina!"

  A weary voice came from beyond the door. "So your power has returned, Shool. You will not trick me again by disguising yourself as Corum. Though he be dead, I shall give myself to no other, least of all . . ."

  "Rhalina! This really is Corum. Shool can do nothing. The Knight of the Swords has been banished from this plane and with him went Shool's sorcery."

  "Is it true?"

  "Open the door, Rhalina."

  Cautiously bolts were drawn back and there was Rhalina. She was tired, she had plainly suffered much, but she was still beautiful. She looked deeply into Corum's eyes and her face flushed with relief, with love. She fainted.

  Corum picked her up and began to carry her down the stairway, along the passage. He paused at Shool's room.

  The onetime sorcerer was gone. Suspecting a trick, Corum hurried to the main door. Through the rain, along a path between the swaying plants, hurried Shool, his ancient legs barely able to carry him.

  He darted a look back at Corum and chattered with fear. He dived into the bushes.

  There was a smacking sound. A hiss. A wail. Bile rose in Corum's throat. Shool's plants were feeding T the last time.

  Warily he carried Rhalina along the path, rugging limself free from the vines and blooms that sought to iold him and kiss him, and at last he reached the shore. A boat was tied up there, a small skiff which, with careful handling, would bear them back to Moidel's Castle.

  The sea was smooth beneath the gray rain that fell upon it. On the horizon, the sky began to lighten.

  Corum placed Rhalina gently in the boat and set sail for Moidel's Mount.

  She woke up several hours later, looked at him, smiled sweetly, then fell asleep again.

  Toward nightfall, as the boat sailed steadily homeward, she came and sat beside him. He wrapped his scarlet robe around her and said nothing.

  As the moon rose, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

  "I had not hoped . . ." she began. And then she wept for a little while and he comforted her.

  "Corum," she said at length, "how has our luck improved so."

  And he began to tell he
r of what had befallen him. He told her of the Ragha-da-Kheta, of the magical kite, of the Flamelands, of Arioch, and of Arkyn.

  He told her all, save two things.

  He did not tell her how he—or the Hand of Kwll—had murdered King TemgoI-Lep, who had tried to poison him, or her countryman Hanafax, who had tried to help him.

  When he had finished her brow was unclouded and she sighed with her happiness.

  "So we have peace, at last. The conflict is over."

  "Peace, if we are lucky, for a little while." The sun had begun to rise. He adjusted his course.

  "You will not leave me again? Law rules now, surely, and . . ."

  "Law rules only upon this plane. The Lords of Chaos will not be pleased with what has happened here. Arioch's last words to me were that I have incurred the bane of the Sword Rulers. And Lord Arkyn knows that much more must be done before Law is once again secure in the Fifteen Planes. And Glandyth-a-Krae will be heard of again."

  "You still seek vengeance against him?"

  "No longer. He was merely an instrument of Arioch. But he will not forget his hatred of me, Rhalina."

  The sky cleared and was blue and golden. A warm breeze blew.

  "Are we then, Corum, to have no peace?"

  "We shall have some, I think. But it will be merely a pause in the struggle, Rhalina. Let us enjoy that pause while we may. We have won that much, at least."

  "Aye." Her tone became merry. "And peace and love that are won are more greatly appreciated than if they are merely inherited!"

  He held her in his arms.

  The sun was strong in the sky. Its rays struck a jeweled hand and a jeweled eye and it made them burn brightly and flash like fire.

  But Rhalina did not see them burning, for she slept again in Corum's arms.

  Moidel's Mount came in sight. Its green slopes were washed by a gentle blue sea and the sun shone on its white stone castle. The tide was in, covering the causeway.

  Corum looked down at Rhalina's sleeping face. He smiled and gently stroked her hair.