of time before they came back from the eastern seas and beyond ."He stood up .' 'Would you sit upon my shoulders now? It will be more comfortable for you, I think."
And Corum accepted the offer with courtesy and climbed upon the dwarf's shoulders. Then they were off again, for there was no time to be wasted.
' 'This proves the need for Mabden unity," said Corum from his perch. "If there were proper communications between the surviving Mabden, then all could gather to attack the Fhoi Myore force from several sides."
' 'But what of Balahr and the rest? What have the Mabden in their armories which can defend them against Balahr's frightful gaze?"
"They have their Treasures. Already I have seen how one of them, the spear Bryionak which you gave me, can do much harm to the Fhoi Myore."
"There was only one spear Bryionak," said Goffanon in an almost melancholy tone, "and now that has vanished—doubtless returning to my own home Realm."
They entered a narrow gorge between white limestone cliffs topped by green turf. "As I recall," said Goffanon, "the city of Caer Garanhir lies but a short way on the other side of the pass."
But as the pass wound up through the rocks and grew narrower at its farther end, they saw that a group of figures awaited them there.
At first Corum thought that these were war-knights of the Tuha-na-Gwyddneu Garanhir, alerted of their coming and there to greet them. But then he noticed the greenish cast of riders and horses and he knew that these were not friends. And then the green ranks broke and another rider emerged—a rider whose armor shifted color constantly and whose face was completely hidden by a blank, smooth helm.
And Goffanon stopped and took Corum from his shoulders and put him upon the pale clay of the ground and looked back as he heard a sound.
Corum looked also.
Riding green horses down the steep slopes of the gorge came another group of green riders, and the whole air was thick with their pine scent. The riders reached the bottom of the pass and paused.
Gaynor's voice echoed through the narrow walls of the gorge and his voice was gay, triumphant: "You could have prolonged your life so easily, Prince Corum, if you had chosen to remain as my guest at Craig Don. Where is the little lamb Amergin, whom you stole?"
"Amergin was dying, the last I saw of him," said Corum truthfully, unslinging his axe from his back.
Goffanon murmured: ‘ 'It is time for the hewing of pines, I think, Corum," and he moved so that he stood facing those at their rear while Corum confronted those at their front. Goffanon hefted his own huge axe, turning its polished iron so that it flashed in the bright summer sunshine. "At least we shall die in the summer warmth," Goffanon said, "and not have our bones eaten by the Cold Folk's mist."
"You should have been warned," said Prince Gaynor the Damned. "He eats a diet of rare grasses only. And now the High King of the Mabden is perished, a mere carcass of mutton. No matter."
In the distance, behind him, Corum heard a great roaring noise and he knew that this must be the Fhoi Myore on the march, moving much faster than he had thought possible.
Goffanon cocked his head to one side and listened, almost curiously.
Then, from both sides, the green-faced horsemen began to bear down on them so that the sides of the gorge shook and Gaynor's bleak laughter grew wilder and wilder.
Corum whirled his war-axe and made a great wound in the neck of the first horse, seeing greenish, viscous liquid ooze from the gash. It halted the horse's momentum, but it did not kill it. Its green eyes rolled and its green teeth snapped and its green rider brought a dull iron sword down at Corum's head. Corum had fought Hew Argech, one of the People of the Pines, and he knew how to counter such blows. He chopped deliberately at the wrist as it swept down and wrist and sword flew earthward like a bough lopped from a tree. He chopped next at the horse's legs so that it crashed onto the dusty
And Corum accepted the offer with courtesy and climbed upon the dwarf's shoulders. Then they were off again, for there was no time to be wasted.
' 'This proves the need for Mabden unity," said Corum from his perch. "If there were proper communications between the surviving Mabden, then all could gather to attack the Fhoi Myore force from several sides."
' 'But what of Balahr and the rest? What have the Mabden in their armories which can defend them against Balahr's frightful gaze?"
"They have their Treasures. Already I have seen how one of them, the spear Bryionak which you gave me, can do much harm to the Fhoi Myore."
"There was only one spear Bryionak," said Goffanon in an almost melancholy tone, "and now that has vanished—doubtless returning to my own home Realm."
They entered a narrow gorge between white limestone cliffs topped by green turf. "As I recall," said Goffanon, "the city of Caer Garanhir lies but a short way on the other side of the pass."
But as the pass wound up through the rocks and grew narrower at its farther end, they saw that a group of figures awaited them there.
At first Corum thought that these were war-knights of the Tuha-na-Gwyddneu Garanhir, alerted of their coming and there to greet them. But then he noticed the greenish cast of riders and horses and he knew that these were not friends. And then the green ranks broke and another rider emerged—a rider whose armor shifted color constantly and whose face was completely hidden by a blank, smooth helm.
And Goffanon stopped and took Corum from his shoulders and put him upon the pale clay of the ground and looked back as he heard a sound.
Corum looked also.
Riding green horses down the steep slopes of the gorge came another group of green riders, and the whole air was thick with their pine scent. The riders reached the bottom of the pass and paused.
Gaynor's voice echoed through the narrow walls of the gorge and his voice was gay, triumphant: "You could have prolonged your life so easily, Prince Corum, if you had chosen to remain as my guest at Craig Don. Where is the little lamb Amergin, whom you stole?"
"Amergin was dying, the last I saw of him," said Corum truthfully, unslinging his axe from his back.
Goffanon murmured: ‘ 'It is time for the hewing of pines, I think, Corum," and he moved so that he stood facing those at their rear while Corum confronted those at their front. Goffanon hefted his own huge axe, turning its polished iron so that it flashed in the bright summer sunshine. "At least we shall die in the summer warmth," Goffanon said, "and not have our bones eaten by the Cold Folk's mist."
"You should have been warned," said Prince Gaynor the Damned. "He eats a diet of rare grasses only. And now the High King of the Mabden is perished, a mere carcass of mutton. No matter."
In the distance, behind him, Corum heard a great roaring noise and he knew that this must be the Fhoi Myore on the march, moving much faster than he had thought possible.
Goffanon cocked his head to one side and listened, almost curiously.
Then, from both sides, the green-faced horsemen began to bear down on them so that the sides of the gorge shook and Gaynor's bleak laughter grew wilder and wilder.
Corum whirled his war-axe and made a great wound in the neck of the first horse, seeing greenish, viscous liquid ooze from the gash. It halted the horse's momentum, but it did not kill it. Its green eyes rolled and its green teeth snapped and its green rider brought a dull iron sword down at Corum's head. Corum had fought Hew Argech, one of the People of the Pines, and he knew how to counter such blows. He chopped deliberately at the wrist as it swept down and wrist and sword flew earthward like a bough lopped from a tree. He chopped next at the horse's legs so that it crashed onto the dusty
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