fingers, a gold and jewelled collar at his throat, and beneath the surcoat could just be seen a samite robe, embroidered with mysterious designs. The face was handsome and old, framed by long gray hair and a gray beard that ended just above the golden collar. In one of his hands the newcomer held a horn—a long horn bound with bands of silver and gold, each band fashioned in the shape of a beast of the forest.
Corum drew himself up, dropping the bow and taking his sword in both hands.
' ‘ I face you, Kerenos,'' said the Prince in the Scarlet Robe ,'' and I defy you."
The tall man smiled. “Few have ever faced Kerenos.'' His voice was mellow, weary and wise. "Even I have not faced him."
"You are not Kerenos? Yet you have his horn. You must have called off those hounds. Do you serve him?"
' 'I serve only myself—and those who aid me. I am Calatin. I was famous once, when there were folk in these parts to speak of me. I am a wizard. Once I had twenty-seven sons and a grandson. Now there is only Calatin."
"There are many now who mourn sons—and daughters, too," said Corum, recalling the old woman he had seen some days since.
"Many," agreed the wizard Calatin. "But my sons and my grandson died not in the battle against the Fhoi Myore. They died on my behalf, seeking something I require in my own feud with the Cold Folk. But who are you, warrior, who fights the Hounds of Kerenos so well, and who sports a silver hand like the hand of some legendary demigod."
"I am pleased that you, at least, do not recognize me," said Corum. "I am called Corum Jhaelen Irsei. The Vadhagh are my folk."
"Sidhi folk, then?" The tall old man's eyes became reflective. "What do you on the mainland?"
"Iam upon a quest. I seek something for a people who dwell now at Caer Mahlod. They are my friends."
"So Sidhi befriend mortals now. Perhaps there are some advantages to the Fhoi Myore's coming."
' 'Of advantages and disadvantages I know naught,'' said Corum. "I thank you, wizard, for calling off those dogs."
Calatin shrugged and tucked the horn away in the folds of his blue robe. "If Kerenos himself had hunted with his pack, I should not have been able to aid you. Instead he sent one of those." Calatin nodded towards the dead creature whom Corum had fought.
"And what are those?" Corum asked. He crossed the glade to look down at the corpse. It had stopped bleeding now, but the blood had congealed in all its wounds. "Why could I not kill it with my blade while you could kill it by the blast of a horn?"
' 'The third blast always slays the Ghoolegh," said Calatin with a shrug. ' 'If 'slay' is the proper word to use, for the Ghoolegh folk are half-dead already. That is why you doubtless found that one hard to slay. Normally they are bound to obey the first blast. A second blast will warn them and the third blast will kill them for failing to obey the first. They make good slaves, as a result. My horn-note, being subtly different to that of Kerenos's own horn, confused both dogs and Ghoolegh. But one thing the Ghoolegh knew—the third blast kills. So he died."
"Who are the Ghoolegh?"
' 'The Fhoi Myore brought them with them from across the water to the East. They are a race bred to serve the Fhoi Myore. I know little else about them."
"Do you know from where the Fhoi Myore came originally?" asked Corum. He began to move around the camp, finding sticks to build up the fire he had extinguished. He noted that the mist had disappeared entirely now.
"No, I have ideas, of course."
All the while he had spoken, Calatin had not moved but had watched Corum through narrowed eyes. "I would have thought," he continued, "that a Sidhi would know more than a mere mortal wizard."
' 'I do not know what the Sidhi folk are like," Corum said.' ‘I am a Vadhagh—and not of your time. I came from another age, an earlier age, or even an age which does not exist, as such, in your
Corum drew himself up, dropping the bow and taking his sword in both hands.
' ‘ I face you, Kerenos,'' said the Prince in the Scarlet Robe ,'' and I defy you."
The tall man smiled. “Few have ever faced Kerenos.'' His voice was mellow, weary and wise. "Even I have not faced him."
"You are not Kerenos? Yet you have his horn. You must have called off those hounds. Do you serve him?"
' 'I serve only myself—and those who aid me. I am Calatin. I was famous once, when there were folk in these parts to speak of me. I am a wizard. Once I had twenty-seven sons and a grandson. Now there is only Calatin."
"There are many now who mourn sons—and daughters, too," said Corum, recalling the old woman he had seen some days since.
"Many," agreed the wizard Calatin. "But my sons and my grandson died not in the battle against the Fhoi Myore. They died on my behalf, seeking something I require in my own feud with the Cold Folk. But who are you, warrior, who fights the Hounds of Kerenos so well, and who sports a silver hand like the hand of some legendary demigod."
"I am pleased that you, at least, do not recognize me," said Corum. "I am called Corum Jhaelen Irsei. The Vadhagh are my folk."
"Sidhi folk, then?" The tall old man's eyes became reflective. "What do you on the mainland?"
"Iam upon a quest. I seek something for a people who dwell now at Caer Mahlod. They are my friends."
"So Sidhi befriend mortals now. Perhaps there are some advantages to the Fhoi Myore's coming."
' 'Of advantages and disadvantages I know naught,'' said Corum. "I thank you, wizard, for calling off those dogs."
Calatin shrugged and tucked the horn away in the folds of his blue robe. "If Kerenos himself had hunted with his pack, I should not have been able to aid you. Instead he sent one of those." Calatin nodded towards the dead creature whom Corum had fought.
"And what are those?" Corum asked. He crossed the glade to look down at the corpse. It had stopped bleeding now, but the blood had congealed in all its wounds. "Why could I not kill it with my blade while you could kill it by the blast of a horn?"
' 'The third blast always slays the Ghoolegh," said Calatin with a shrug. ' 'If 'slay' is the proper word to use, for the Ghoolegh folk are half-dead already. That is why you doubtless found that one hard to slay. Normally they are bound to obey the first blast. A second blast will warn them and the third blast will kill them for failing to obey the first. They make good slaves, as a result. My horn-note, being subtly different to that of Kerenos's own horn, confused both dogs and Ghoolegh. But one thing the Ghoolegh knew—the third blast kills. So he died."
"Who are the Ghoolegh?"
' 'The Fhoi Myore brought them with them from across the water to the East. They are a race bred to serve the Fhoi Myore. I know little else about them."
"Do you know from where the Fhoi Myore came originally?" asked Corum. He began to move around the camp, finding sticks to build up the fire he had extinguished. He noted that the mist had disappeared entirely now.
"No, I have ideas, of course."
All the while he had spoken, Calatin had not moved but had watched Corum through narrowed eyes. "I would have thought," he continued, "that a Sidhi would know more than a mere mortal wizard."
' 'I do not know what the Sidhi folk are like," Corum said.' ‘I am a Vadhagh—and not of your time. I came from another age, an earlier age, or even an age which does not exist, as such, in your
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