bring the darkness and they bring the terror. They are the bane of beauty and the doom of truth. The world is Mabden now. We have no right to continue existing. Nature abhors us. We should not be here!"
Corum sighed. "Is that your thinking, or theirs?"
"It is a fact."
Corum shrugged. "Perhaps."
"It is a fact, Vadhagh. You would be mad if you denied it"
"You said you thought this the last of our castles.”
"Not I. I sensed there was another one. I told them."
"And they have gone to seek it?"
"Yes."
Corum gripped the being's shoulder. "Where?"
The Nhadragh smiled. "Where? Where else but in the West?"
Corum ran to his horse.
"Stay!" croaked the Nhadragh. "Slay me, I pray you, Vadhagh! Do not let me linger!"
"I do not know how to kill," Corum replied as he mounted the horse.
"Then you must learn, Vadhagh. You must learn!" cackled the dying being as Corum frantically forced his horse to gallop down the hill.
The Fifth Chapter
A Lesson Learned
And here was Castle Erora, her tinted towers entwined with greedy fires. And still the surf boomed in the great black caverns within the headland on which Erora was raised and it seemed that the sea protested, that the wind wailed its anger, that the lashing foam sought desperately to drench the victorious flame.
Castle Erora shuddered as she perished and the bearded Mabden laughed at her downfall, shaking the brass and gold trappings of their chariots, casting triumphant glances at the little row of corpses lying in a semicircle before them.
They were Vadhagh corpses.
Four women and eight men.
In the shadows on the far side of the natural bridge of rock that led to the headland, Corum saw glimpses of the bloody faces and he knew them all: Prince Khlonskey, his father. Colatalarna, his mother. His twin sisters, Hastru and Pholhinra. His uncle, Prince Rhanan. Sertreda, his cousin. And the five retainers, all second and third cousins.
Three times Corum counted the corpses as the cold grief transformed itself to fury and he heard the butchers yell to one another in their coarse dialect.
Three times he counted, and then he looked at them and his face really was the face of a Shefanfaw.
Prince Corum had discovered sorrow and he had discovered fear. Now he discovered rage.
For two weeks he had ridden almost without pause, hoping to get ahead of the Denledhyssi and warn his family of the barbarians' coming. And he had arrived a few hours too late.
The Mabden had ridden out in their arrogance bora of ignorance and destroyed those whose arrogance was bora of wisdom. It was the way of things. Doubtless Corum's father, Prince Khlonskey, had thought as much as he was hacked down with a stolen Vadhagh war-axe. But now Corum could find no such philosophy within his own heart.
His eyes turned black with anger, save for the irises, which turned bright gold, and he drew his tall spear and urged his weary horse over the causeway, through the flame-lit night, toward the Denledhyssi.
They were lounging in their chariots and pouring sweet Vadhagh wine down their faces and into their gullets. The sounds of the sea and the blaze hid the sound of Corum's approach until his spear pierced the face of a Denledhyssi warrior and the man shrieked.
Corum had learned how to kill.
He slid the spear's point free and struck the dead man's companion through the back of the neck as he began to pull himself upright He twisted the spear.
Corum had learned how to be cruel.
Another Denledhyssi raised a bow and pulled back an arrow on the string, but Corum hurled the spear now and it struck through the man's bronze breastplate, entered his heart, and knocked him over the side of the chariot,
Corum drew his second spear.
But his horse was failing him. He had ridden it to the point of exhaustion and now it could barely respond to his signals. Already the more distant charioteers were whipping their ponies to life, turning their great, groaning chariots around to bear down on the Prince in the Scarlet
Corum sighed. "Is that your thinking, or theirs?"
"It is a fact."
Corum shrugged. "Perhaps."
"It is a fact, Vadhagh. You would be mad if you denied it"
"You said you thought this the last of our castles.”
"Not I. I sensed there was another one. I told them."
"And they have gone to seek it?"
"Yes."
Corum gripped the being's shoulder. "Where?"
The Nhadragh smiled. "Where? Where else but in the West?"
Corum ran to his horse.
"Stay!" croaked the Nhadragh. "Slay me, I pray you, Vadhagh! Do not let me linger!"
"I do not know how to kill," Corum replied as he mounted the horse.
"Then you must learn, Vadhagh. You must learn!" cackled the dying being as Corum frantically forced his horse to gallop down the hill.
The Fifth Chapter
A Lesson Learned
And here was Castle Erora, her tinted towers entwined with greedy fires. And still the surf boomed in the great black caverns within the headland on which Erora was raised and it seemed that the sea protested, that the wind wailed its anger, that the lashing foam sought desperately to drench the victorious flame.
Castle Erora shuddered as she perished and the bearded Mabden laughed at her downfall, shaking the brass and gold trappings of their chariots, casting triumphant glances at the little row of corpses lying in a semicircle before them.
They were Vadhagh corpses.
Four women and eight men.
In the shadows on the far side of the natural bridge of rock that led to the headland, Corum saw glimpses of the bloody faces and he knew them all: Prince Khlonskey, his father. Colatalarna, his mother. His twin sisters, Hastru and Pholhinra. His uncle, Prince Rhanan. Sertreda, his cousin. And the five retainers, all second and third cousins.
Three times Corum counted the corpses as the cold grief transformed itself to fury and he heard the butchers yell to one another in their coarse dialect.
Three times he counted, and then he looked at them and his face really was the face of a Shefanfaw.
Prince Corum had discovered sorrow and he had discovered fear. Now he discovered rage.
For two weeks he had ridden almost without pause, hoping to get ahead of the Denledhyssi and warn his family of the barbarians' coming. And he had arrived a few hours too late.
The Mabden had ridden out in their arrogance bora of ignorance and destroyed those whose arrogance was bora of wisdom. It was the way of things. Doubtless Corum's father, Prince Khlonskey, had thought as much as he was hacked down with a stolen Vadhagh war-axe. But now Corum could find no such philosophy within his own heart.
His eyes turned black with anger, save for the irises, which turned bright gold, and he drew his tall spear and urged his weary horse over the causeway, through the flame-lit night, toward the Denledhyssi.
They were lounging in their chariots and pouring sweet Vadhagh wine down their faces and into their gullets. The sounds of the sea and the blaze hid the sound of Corum's approach until his spear pierced the face of a Denledhyssi warrior and the man shrieked.
Corum had learned how to kill.
He slid the spear's point free and struck the dead man's companion through the back of the neck as he began to pull himself upright He twisted the spear.
Corum had learned how to be cruel.
Another Denledhyssi raised a bow and pulled back an arrow on the string, but Corum hurled the spear now and it struck through the man's bronze breastplate, entered his heart, and knocked him over the side of the chariot,
Corum drew his second spear.
But his horse was failing him. He had ridden it to the point of exhaustion and now it could barely respond to his signals. Already the more distant charioteers were whipping their ponies to life, turning their great, groaning chariots around to bear down on the Prince in the Scarlet
Similar Books
The Duke's Temptation
Addie Jo Ryleigh
The Orphans (Book 3): Strangers
Mike Evans
Catching Falling Stars
Karen McCombie
Survival Games
J.E. Taylor
Battle Fatigue
Mark Kurlansky
Now I See You
Nicole C. Kear
The Whipping Boy
Speer Morgan
Rippled
Erin Lark
The Story of Us
Deb Caletti