Read Online The Chronicles of Corum by Michael Moorcock - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Moorcock
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that there were Vadhagh still alive, much further west than he had guessed.
"It is called Castle Eran—Erin—some such name."
"Erorn?"
"Aye. That sounds the right name. It is over five hundred miles from here , . ."
"Five hundred miles? Have I come so far? The Giant of Laahr must have carried me much further than I suspected. That castle you mention, my lady, was our castle. The Mabden destroyed it. It will take me longer than I thought to return and find Earl Glandyth and his Denledhyssi."
Suddenly Corum realized just how alone he was. It was if he had entered another plane of Earth where everything was alien to him. He knew nothing of this world. A world in which the Mabden ruled. How proud his race had been. How foolish. If only they had concerned themselves with knowledge of the world around them instead of seeking after abstractions.
Corum bowed his head.
The Margravine Rhalina seemed to understand his emotion. She lightly touched his arm. "Come, Prince of the Vadhagh. You must eat."
He allowed her to lead him from the room and into another where a meal had been laid out for them both. The food—mainly fruit and forms of edible seaweed—was much closer to his taste than any Mabden food he had seen previously. He realized that he was very hungry and that he was deeply tired. His mind was confused and his only certainty was the hatred he still felt for Glandyth and the vengeance he intended to take as soon as possible.
As they ate, they did not speak, but the Margravine watched his face the whole time and once or twice she opened her lips as if to say something, but then seemed to decide against it.
The room in which they ate was small and hung with rich tapestries covered in fine embroidery. As he finished his food and began to observe the details of the tapestry, the scenes thereon began to swim before his eyes. He looked questioningly at the Margravine, but her face was expressionless. His head felt light and he had lost the use of his limbs.
He tried to form words, but they would not come.
He had been drugged.
The woman had poisoned his food.
Once again he had allowed himself to become a victim of the Mabden.
He rested his head on his arms and fell, unwillingly, into a deep sleep.
Corum dreamed again.
He saw Castle Erorn as he had left it when he had first ridden out. He saw his father's wise face speaking and strained to hear the words, but could not. He saw his mother at work, writing her latest treatise on mathematics. He saw his sisters dancing to his uncle's new music.
The atmosphere was joyful.
But now he realized that he could not understand their activities. They seemed strange and pointless to him. They were like children playing, unaware that a savage beast stalked them.
He tried to cry out—to warn them—but he had no voice.
He saw fires begin to spring up in rooms—saw Mabden warriors who had entered the unprotected gates without the inhabitants' being in the least aware of their presence. Laughing amongst themselves, the Mabden put the silk hangings and the furnishings to the torch.
Now he saw his kinfolk again. They had become aware of the fires and were rushing to seek their source.
His father came into a room in which Glandyth-a-Krae stood, hurling books onto a pyre he had erected in the middle of the chamber. His father watched in astonishment as Glandyth burned the books. His father's lips moved and his eyes were questioning—almost polite surprise.
Glandyth turned and grinned at him, drawing his axe from his belt. He raised the axe . . .
Now Corum saw his mother. Two Mabden held her while another heaved himself up and down on her naked body.
Corum tried to enter the scene, but something stopped him.
He saw his sisters and his cousin suffering the same fate as his mother. Again his path to them was blocked by something invisible.
He struggled to get through, but now the Mabden were slitting the girls' throats. They quivered and died like slain fawns.
Corum began to
"It is called Castle Eran—Erin—some such name."
"Erorn?"
"Aye. That sounds the right name. It is over five hundred miles from here , . ."
"Five hundred miles? Have I come so far? The Giant of Laahr must have carried me much further than I suspected. That castle you mention, my lady, was our castle. The Mabden destroyed it. It will take me longer than I thought to return and find Earl Glandyth and his Denledhyssi."
Suddenly Corum realized just how alone he was. It was if he had entered another plane of Earth where everything was alien to him. He knew nothing of this world. A world in which the Mabden ruled. How proud his race had been. How foolish. If only they had concerned themselves with knowledge of the world around them instead of seeking after abstractions.
Corum bowed his head.
The Margravine Rhalina seemed to understand his emotion. She lightly touched his arm. "Come, Prince of the Vadhagh. You must eat."
He allowed her to lead him from the room and into another where a meal had been laid out for them both. The food—mainly fruit and forms of edible seaweed—was much closer to his taste than any Mabden food he had seen previously. He realized that he was very hungry and that he was deeply tired. His mind was confused and his only certainty was the hatred he still felt for Glandyth and the vengeance he intended to take as soon as possible.
As they ate, they did not speak, but the Margravine watched his face the whole time and once or twice she opened her lips as if to say something, but then seemed to decide against it.
The room in which they ate was small and hung with rich tapestries covered in fine embroidery. As he finished his food and began to observe the details of the tapestry, the scenes thereon began to swim before his eyes. He looked questioningly at the Margravine, but her face was expressionless. His head felt light and he had lost the use of his limbs.
He tried to form words, but they would not come.
He had been drugged.
The woman had poisoned his food.
Once again he had allowed himself to become a victim of the Mabden.
He rested his head on his arms and fell, unwillingly, into a deep sleep.
Corum dreamed again.
He saw Castle Erorn as he had left it when he had first ridden out. He saw his father's wise face speaking and strained to hear the words, but could not. He saw his mother at work, writing her latest treatise on mathematics. He saw his sisters dancing to his uncle's new music.
The atmosphere was joyful.
But now he realized that he could not understand their activities. They seemed strange and pointless to him. They were like children playing, unaware that a savage beast stalked them.
He tried to cry out—to warn them—but he had no voice.
He saw fires begin to spring up in rooms—saw Mabden warriors who had entered the unprotected gates without the inhabitants' being in the least aware of their presence. Laughing amongst themselves, the Mabden put the silk hangings and the furnishings to the torch.
Now he saw his kinfolk again. They had become aware of the fires and were rushing to seek their source.
His father came into a room in which Glandyth-a-Krae stood, hurling books onto a pyre he had erected in the middle of the chamber. His father watched in astonishment as Glandyth burned the books. His father's lips moved and his eyes were questioning—almost polite surprise.
Glandyth turned and grinned at him, drawing his axe from his belt. He raised the axe . . .
Now Corum saw his mother. Two Mabden held her while another heaved himself up and down on her naked body.
Corum tried to enter the scene, but something stopped him.
He saw his sisters and his cousin suffering the same fate as his mother. Again his path to them was blocked by something invisible.
He struggled to get through, but now the Mabden were slitting the girls' throats. They quivered and died like slain fawns.
Corum began to
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