The Oak and the Ram - 04 Read Online Free PDF

from a broken spine. The dog with the broken spine dragged itself to where its comrade writhed and sank its fangs into the red, exposed flanks, tearing hungrily at the flesh, taking a final meal before it expired.
    Then Corum heard a yell and got an impression of something black moving to the right of him. Gaynor's men, no doubt, coming in to finish him. He tried a backswipe with the axe, but missed.
    The Hounds of Kerenos were regrouping, readying themselves for a more organized attack upon him. Corum knew he could not fight both the hounds and the newcomers, whoever they were. He looked for a gap in the ranks of the dogs through which he might gallop. But his horse stood panting now, its legs trembling, and he knew he could get nothing more from the beast. He transferred his axe to his silver hand and drew his sword. Then he began to jog towards the hounds, preferring to die attacking them rather than to flee from them. And again something black swept past him—a fast-moving pony with a rider crouched low upon its back, a curved sword in both hands, slicing into the white pack so that they yelped in surprise and scattered. Whereupon Corum selected one and rode after it, bearing down on it. It turned going for his horse's throat, but Corum stabbed and took the creature in the chest. Its long-clawed paws scrabbled at the body of the skittering horse for a moment before it fell to the ground.
    And now only three hounds lived. Three hounds running after the black speck of a rider who could still be seen in the distance, his armor changing color even as he rode.
    Then Corum dismounted from his horse and drew a deep breath. Then he regretted it, for the stink of the hounds was worse in death than in life. He looked around him at the ruin of white fur and red vitals, at the gore which soaked the ground, and then he turned to look at the ally who had appeared to save his life.
    His ally was still mounted. Grinning, the ally sheathed first one curved sword and then another. He adjusted a broadbrimmed hat upon his long hair. He took a bag which hung from his saddle pommel and opened it. From the bag crept a small black and white cat which was unusual in that it had a pair of wings neatly folded along its back.
    Corum’ s ally grinned even more widely as he noted Corum's astonishment.
    "This situation is not new to me, at least," said Jhary-a-Conel, the self-styled Companion to Heroes. "I am often in time to save some champion's life. It is my fate, just as it is his fate to struggle forever in the great wars of history. I sought you at Caer Mahlod, having some intimation that I would be useful, but you had already gone. I followed as swiftly as I could, sensing that your life was in peril.'' Jhary-a-Conel swept off his wide-brimmed hat and bowed in his saddle. "Greetings, Prince Corum."
    Corum was still panting from his fight. He could not speak. But he managed to grin back at his old friend. "Do you quest with me, Jhary?" he said at last. "Do you come with me to Caer Llud?"
    "If the fates so will it. Aye. How fare you, Corum, in this world?"
    "Better than I thought. And better still now that you are here, Jhary."
    "You know I might not be enabled to stay here?"
    "I understood as much from our last conversation. And you? Have you had adventures on other planes since we last met?"
    "One or two. One or two. Where you are called Hawkmoon, I had one of the most peculiar experiences of my everlasting career.'' And Jhary told Corum the story of his adventures with Hawkmoon, who had gained a friend, lost a bride, found himself inhabiting another's body, and had spent what Corum considered a rather confusing time in a world which was not his own.
    And as Jhary talked, the two old friends rode from the scene of the slaughter, following in the tracks of Prince Gay nor the Damned who appeared to be riding hastily for Caer Llud.
    And Caer Llud was still many, many days distant.
     
     
     
    THE FIFTH CHAPTER
    THE LANDS WHERE THE FHOI MYORE