Read The Sword and the Stallion - 06 for Free Online

over-awed.
    Goffanon hesitated, rallied himself, and went on:
    Unnamed blade, I call thee Corum’s sword!
    Hisak and Goffanon claim thee not! Black winds cry through Limbo!
    Blind rivers await my soul!
    These last words Goffanon screamed. He appeared terrified by what he saw through his closed eyes, but his sword-song still issued from his bearded lips.
    (Had Corum ever seen this sword? No. But there had been another like it. This sword would prove useful against the Fhoi Myore, he knew. But was the sword really a friend? Why did he consider it an enemy?)
    This was a fated forging;
    But now that it is done The blade, like its destiny,
    Cannot be broken.
    Corum could see only the sword. He found that he was moving toward it, climbing the mound. It was as if Goffanon had disappeared and the blade hung in the air, burning sometimes white like the moon, sometimes red like the sun.
    Corum reached out for the handle with his silver fingers, but the sword seemed to retreat. Only when Corum stretched his left hand, his hand of flesh, toward it did it allow him to approach.
    Corum still heard Goffanon's song. The song had begun as a proud chant; now it was a melancholy dirge. And was the dirge accompanied, in the far distance, by the strains of a harp?
    Here is a fitting sword,
    Half mortal, half immortal, For the Vadhagh hero.
    Here is Corum's sword.
    There is no comfort in the blade I made,
    It was forged for more than war; It will kill more than flesh;
    It will grant both more and less than death.
    Fly, blade! Rush to Corum’s grip!
    Forget Goffanon made thee! Doom only the Mabden ’ s foes!
    Learn loyalty, shun treachery!
    And suddenly the sword was in Corum's left hand and it was as if he had known such a sword all his life. It fitted his grasp perfectly; its balance was superb. He turned it this way and that in the light of the moon, wondering at its sharpness and its handling.
    "It is my sword," he said. He felt that he was united with something he had lost long since and then forgotten about. "It is my sword."
    Serve well the knight who knoweth thee!
    Abruptly, Goffanon's song ended. The great dwarf's eyes opened; his expression was a mixture of tormented guilt, sympathy for Corum, and triumph. Then Goffanon turned to peer at the moon. Corum followed his gaze and was transfixed by the great silver disc which apparently filled the whole sky. Corum felt as though he were being drawn into the moon. He saw faces there, scenes of fighting armies, wastelands, ruined cities and fields. He saw himself, though the face was not his. He saw a sword not unlike the one he now held, but the other sword was black whereas his was white. He saw Jhary-a-Conel. He saw Medhbh. He saw Rhalina and he saw other women, and he loved them all, but of Medhbh alone he felt fear. Then the Dagdagh Harp appeared and changed into the form of a youth whose body shone with a strange golden color and who, in some way, was also the harp. Then he saw a great, pale horse and he knew that the horse was his but he was wary of where the horse would take him. Then Corum saw a plain all white with snow and across this plain came a single rider whose robe was scarlet and whose arms and armor were those of the Vadhagh and who had one hand of flesh and one of metal and whose right eye was covered by an elaborately embroidered patch and whose features were the features of a Vadhagh, of Corum. And Corum knew that this rider was not himself and he gasped in terror and tried not to look as the rider came closer and closer, an expression of mocking hatred upon his face and in his single eye the unequivocal determination to kill Corum and take his place.
    ‘ 'No!" cried Corum.
    And clouds moved across the moon and the light dimmed and Corum stood upon Cremmsmound in the oak grove, the place of power, with a sword in his hand that was unlike any sword forged before this day; and Corum looked down the mound and saw that Goffanon now stood with Hisak Sunthief and Jhary-a-Conel