Corum could not imitate the devil-may-care smile of the Sidhi; his own smile was a little grimmer as he inclined his head slightly. "Let us ride on to Ynys Scaith," he said.
So Ilbrec shook Splendid Mane's reins and the huge horse began to gallop again, the spray rising high into the air as they went faster and faster toward the isle of enchantments.
Now Splendid Mane was almost upon the beach, yet it was still impossible to define any clear images in the general, shadowy appearance of the island. There was a suggestion of heavy, tangled forest, of half-ruined buildings, of beaches littered with a variety of flotsam, of swirling mist, of large-winged flapping birds, of burly beasts prowling through the wreckage and the trees, but every time the eye seemed about to focus on something it would shift again and become dim. Once Corum thought he saw a great face, larger than Ilbrec's, staring at him from over a rock, but then both face and rock seemed to become a tree, or a building, or a beast. There was something unclean and dolorous about Ynys Scaith; it had none of the beauty of Hy-Breasail. It was almost as if this particular magic isle were the reverse of the first Corum had visited. Soft, unpleasant sounds issued from the interior; sometimes it was as if voices whispered to him. A smell of corruption was carried to his nostrils by an unpleasant wind. Ynys Scaith's chief impression was one of decay—of a soul in decay—and in this it had something in common with the Fhoi Myore. Corum was filled with foreboding. Why should the folk of Ynys Scaith throw in their lot with the Mabden? They would seem likelier to wish to help the Cold Folk.
Again Ilbrec reined in Splendid Mane, a foot or two from the shore, and he flung up his left hand, calling out:
"Hail, Ynys Scaith! We are willing visitors to your land! Would you welcome us?"
It was an old greeting, a traditional Mabden greeting, but Corum felt it would mean little to whomever dwelled in this place.
"Hail, Ynys Scaith! We come in peace to discuss a bargain with you!" called the gigantic youth.
There was a suggestion of an echo, but no other reply. Ilbrec shrugged. "Then we must visit the island uninvited. Poor courtesy . . ."
"Which could well be returned by the inhabitants,'' said Corum.
Ilbrec urged Splendid Mane forward and the horse's hooves at last touched the gray beach of Ynys Scaith, whereupon the forest ahead of them turned suddenly to blazing scarlet fronds, agitated and whimpering, rustling and chuckling. Looking back, Corum could no longer see the sea. Instead he saw a wall of liquid lead.
Deliberately, Ilbrec rode toward the fronds and, as he approached, they flattened themselves like supplicants hailing a conqueror. Splendid Mane, disturbed and unwilling to continue, snorted and set his ears back, but Ilbrec clapped his heels against the beast's flanks and on they went. No sooner had they crossed a few feet of these fronds than they sprang up again and the two heroes were surrounded by the plants which reached feathery fingers out and touched their flesh and sighed.
And Corum felt that the fronds reached through his skin and stroked his bones and he was hard put not to lash out at the things with his sword. He could understand the terror of the Mabden when confronted with such monstrous foliage, but he had experienced much more in his time and knew how to control his panic. He attempted to speak casually to Ilbrec, who also pretended to ignore the plants.
"Interesting flora, Ilbrec. I've seen nothing like it elsewhere upon this plane."
"Indeed it is, friend Corum." Ilbrec's voice shook only a little. "It seems to have some kind of primitive intelligence."
The whispering increased, the touch of the plants became more insistent, but the two rode steadfastly on through the forest, their eyes aching from the scarlet blaze.
"Could this be an illusion, even?" Corum suggested.
"Possibly, my friend. A clever one."
The fronds thinned, giving way to pavements of green marble which lay beneath an inch or two of yellowish liquid smelling several times worse than a stagnant pond. All kinds of small insect life existed in the liquid and occasionally clouds of flying things would rise out of it and hover around their heads as if inspecting them. To their right were several ruins: colonnades covered in festering ivy, partially collapsed galleries, walls of rotting granite and eroded quartz on which grew vines whose livid blooms emitted a sickly stench; while ahead of them they could see two-legged animals bending to drink the liquid, looking at them through glazed, white eyes before stooping to drink again. Something wriggled across Splendid Mane's path. Corum thought at first he had seen a pale snake, but then he wondered if the thing had not had the shape of a human being. He looked for it, but it had disappeared. An ordinary black rat swam steadily through the deeper reaches of the liquid; it ignored Ilbrec and Corum. Then it dived and disappeared through a narrow crack in the surface of the marble.
By the time they had reached the far side of this expanse the two-legged creatures had gone and Splendid Mane walked on a lawn of spongy grass which gave off disgusting sucking noises whenever the horse pulled its hooves free. So far nothing had menaced them directly and Corum began to think that the Mabden who had landed here had been victims of their own terrors instilled in them by such ghastly sights as these. Now his nose detected a stench not unlike that of cow dung, but rather stronger. It was a nauseating stench and he drew a scarf from under his byrnie and tied it around his mouth, though it made only the slightest difference. Ilbrec cleared his throat and spat upon the turf, guiding Splendid Mane toward a pathway of cracked lapis lazuli leading into a dark corridor of trees which were like and yet unlike ordinary rhododendrons. Large, dark, sticky leaves brushed their faces and soon the corridor had become pitch black, save for a few yellow lights which flickered in the recesses of the foliage on both sides of them. Once or twice it seemed to Corum that the lights revealed grinning faces whose features had been partially eaten away, but he guessed that his imagination, fed by the obscene visions of the recent past, was responsible for these sights.
"Let us hope this path leads us somewhere," murmured Ilbrec. "The stench gets worse, if anything. Could it be, I wonder, the distinctive odor of Ynys Scaith's inhabitants?"
"Let us hope not, Ilbrec. It will make communication with them that much more difficult. Do you know in what direction we head now?"
"I fear not," replied the Sidhi youth. "I am not sure if we go south, north, east, or west. All I know is that the branches above us are getting damnedably low and it would be wise if I, at least, dismounted. Will you take a grip on the saddle, Corum, while I get
off?"
Corum did so and felt Ilbrec get down from his saddle, heard the creak of harness and a jingle as Ilbrec took Splendid Mane's reins and began to plod on. Without the bulk of the giant to reassure him, Corum felt much more exposed to the dangers—imaginary, or otherwise—of this reeking arbor. Did he hear laughter from the depths on either side? Did he hear bodies moving menacingly, keeping pace with him, ready to pounce? Was that a hand which reached out and pinched his leg?
More lights flickered, but this time they were directly ahead.
Something coughed in the forest.
Corum took a firmer grip on his sword. "Do you feel we are watched, Ilbrec?"
"It is possible." The young giant's voice was firm, but tense.
"Everything we have seen speaks of a great civilization which died a thousand years ago. Perhaps there are no longer any intelligent inhabitants on Ynys Scaith?"
"Perhaps ..."
"Perhaps we have only animals to fear—and diseases. Could the air affect the brain and infest it with unpleasant thoughts, terrifying visions?"
"Who knows?"
And the voice which replied to Corum was not Ilbrec's voice. "Ilbrec?" whispered Corum, afraid that his friend had suddenly vanished. There was a pause. "Ilbrec?"
''I heard it also," said Ilbrec and Corum heard him move back a pace and reach out a huge hand to touch Corum's arm and squeeze it gently. Then Ilbrec raised his voice: "Were are you? Who was it that spoke to us?"
Bu
t there came no further reply and so they pressed on, corning at length to a place where thin sunlight broke through the branches and the tunnel divided into three separate paths. The shortest was the middle one for, though it was gloomy, the sky could be seen at its far end.
"This would seem the best," Ilbrec said, remounting. "What think you, Corum?"
Corum shrugged. "It is tempting—almost a trap," he said. "As if the folk of Ynys Scaith wished to lure us somewhere."
Ilbrec said: "Let them lure us, if they will."
"My feelings, too."
Without further comment, Ilbrec urged Splendid Mane into the tunnel.
Slowly the lattice above them opened out until the cracked path widened and they rode down an avenue of stunted bushes, seeing ahead of them tall, broken columns around which climbed the stems of some long-dead lichen, brown and black and dark green. And it was only when they had passed between those columns, carved with demonic creatures and grinning, bestial heads, that they realized they were now upon a bridge built over an immensely wide and dreadfully deep chasm. Once there had been a wall on either side of the bridge, but in most places the wall had fallen away and they could see down to the floor of the chasm, where a stretch of black water boiled and in which reptilian bodies of all descriptions threshed and snapped and yelled.
And over the bridge there now moaned a miserable wind, a cold, clinging wind which dragged at their cloaks and even seemed to threaten to toss them off the swaying stonework of the bridge and down into the chasm.
Ilbrec sniffed, tugging his cloak about him, looking over the edge with an expression of distaste upon his features.
"They are large, those reptiles. I have seen none larger. Look at the teeth they have in their mouths! Look at those glaring eyes, those boney crests, those horns. Ach! I am glad they cannot reach us, Corum!"
And Corum nodded his agreement.
"This is no world for a Sidhi," Ilbrec murmured.
"Nor a Vadhagh," said Corum.
· · ·
By the time they had reached the middle of the bridge the wind had increased and Splendid Mane found it difficult to push even his great bulk against it. It was then that Corum looked up and saw what he thought at first were birds. There were about a score of them, flying in a rough formation, and as they came closer he saw that they were not birds at all but winged reptiles with long snouts filled with sharp, yellow fangs. He tapped Ilbrec upon his shoulder, pointing.
"Ilbrec," he said. "Dragons."
They were dragons, indeed, albeit scarcely larger than the great eagles which inhabited the northern mountains of Bro-an-Mabden, and they were plainly bent on attacking the two who sat upon Splendid Mane's back.
Corum stuck his feet into the horse's girth strap so that the wind should not blow him from its back and with some difficulty managed to unsling his bow, string it, and take an arrow from his quiver. He fitted the arrow to the string, drew it back, sighted along the arrow, did his best to allow for the strength of the wind, and let fly at the nearest dragon. His arrow missed the beast's body, but pierced the wing. The dragon yelled, twisted in the air, snapping at the arrow with its teeth. It began to fall, righted itself clumsily, but then began to spin round and round, falling toward the dark water below where other reptiles hungrily awaited it. Two more arrows Corum let fly, but both went wide of their targets. Then a dragon swept in at Ilbrec's head and its teeth grazed against the rim of the giant's shield as he put it up to defend himself, at the same time swinging Retaliate up in an attempt to stab the dragon's belly. Splendid Mane reared, whinnying, hooves flailing, eyes rolling, and the bridge shuddered at this new movement. A fresh crack appeared in it and a piece at the edge broke off and tumbled into the gorge. Corum felt his stomach turn as he saw the masonry go hurtling down. He shot another arrow and this again missed its mark completely, but plunged into the throat of the next dragon. But now they were surrounded by the flap of leathery wings, the snap of sharp teeth, and claws almost like human hands reached out to tear at them. Corum had to drop the bow and draw his unnamed sword, Goffanon's gift. Half-blinded by the silvery light which issued from the metal, he slashed at random at the attacking reptiles and felt the beautifully honed blade slice into cold-blooded flesh. Now wounded dragons scuttled around Splended Mane's legs and, from the comer of his eye, Corum saw at least three fall over the jagged edge of the bridge. And Corum saw Ilbrec's bright, golden sword all dripping with the dragons' blood and he heard the voice of the youth as he sang a Sidhi song (for it was ever the Sidhi way to sing when death confronted them).
Foes from the east we ever faced; And fearless foes they were. In fifty fights the Sidhi fought, Ere they were clad in gore. Fierce were we in war. Fierce were we in war.
Corum felt something settle on his back and cold claws touched his flesh. With a shout he slashed backwards and his blade carved into scaley skin and brittle bone and a dragon coughed and vomited blood over his silvered helm. Clearing the chill and sticky stuff from his eye, Corum was in time to stab upward at a dragon who dived down at Ilbrec's unprotected head, its claws outstretched.
And Ilbrec sang on:
Lest Sidhi bodies clay should claim, Pray let that clay he known. Let moral heroes sing our fame, In Sidhi soil rest Sidhi bones. In foreign earth we lie alone. In foreign earth we lie alone.
Corum guessed the meaning of Ilbrec's song, for he, too, disliked the idea of his life being stolen by these mindless creatures, of dying in this nameless place with none knowing how he died.
At least half the dragons had now been slain or so badly wounded that they were harmless, but the movement of the great Sidhi steed as he reared and trampled the corpses of the reptiles was causing more and more pieces of masonry to fall from the bridge and now a sizeable hole had appeared ahead of them. His attention divided between the potential disaster and the immediate one, Corum failed to see a dragon swoop in on him, its claws digging into his shoulders , its snout snapping at his face. With a strangled gasp he brought his shield rim up, jamming it into the dragon's soft belly and at the same time forcing his unnamed sword into the thing's throat. The reptile's corpse lost its grip and flopped onto the stone of the bridge and at that moment the bridge itself gave way and Ilbrec, Splendid Mane and Corum were hurtling downward to where the swimming things swarmed in the black waters of the chasm. Corum heard Ilbrec yelling:
"Cling to my belt, Corum. At all costs do not lose your grip."
And though Corum obeyed, he saw little point in the Sidhi's instructions. After all, they were soon to be dead. But first, of course, would come the pain. He hoped it would not last too long.
THE SECOND CHAPTER
THE MELIBANN REVEAL THEMSELVES
There was a moment when they were falling and then a moment when they were rising, but Corum, preparing himself for death, had not noticed when the change had come about. Somewhat circuitous-ly, Splendid Mane appeared to be galloping into the sky, back toward the broken bridge. The dragons had gone, doubtless unwilling to follow their quarry down to the bottom of the chasm and contest ownership with their larger cousins.
And Ilbrec was laughing, guessing what Corum must feel.
"The old roads are everywhere,'' he said, ''and thank my ancestors that Splendid Mane can still find them!"
The horse slowed to a leisurely trot, still apparently treading thin air, and then continued toward the far edge of the chasm.
Corum sighed with relief. For all that he had good reason to trust Splendid Mane's powers, it was hard for him to believe in the horse's ability to ride across the water, let alone the air. Once again the hooves touched ground which Corum could see was solid, and the horse came to a halt. Another pathway led through low hills covered in a kind of fungus, multicolored, unhealthy. Ilbrec and Corum dismounted to inspect their wounds. Corum had lost his bow and his quiver was empty—he threw it aside—but the dragons' claws had produced little more than flesh wounds in his arms and shoulders. Ilbrec was similarly unharmed. They grinned at each
other and it was plain to both that neither had expected to live on that shuddering bridge.
Ilbrec took his water bottle from his saddle bag and offered it to Corum. It was the size of a small barrel and Corum had difficulty lifting it to his lips, but he was grateful for the drink.
"What puzzles me," said Ilbrec, accepting the bottle back and raising it, "is the size of Ynys Scaith. From the sea it looks a comparatively small island. Yet from here it appears to be a sizeable land, going on as far as the eye can see. And look—" he pointed into the distance where the hill and the single pine tree stood out sharply, though the scenery all around it was misty—"the hill seems further away from us than ever. There is no question in my mind; Corum, that this place is under a glamor of considerable power."
"Aye," agreed the Vadhagh Prince,"and I have the feeling that we have hardly begun to understand the extent of it as yet."
With this, they remounted and followed the path on through the hills until they turned a corner and saw that the hills ended sharply, giving way to a plain seemingly made of hammered copper, shimmering as it reflected the light of the sun, and far away, in what Corum judged to be the center of this plain, some figures stood. Whether the figures were of beasts or of men, Corum could not tell, but he loosened Goffanon's gift-sword in its sheath and he adjusted the shield more firmly upon his arm as Splendid Mane began to trot over the plain, his hooves ringing and clanging as they struck the metal.