The Oak and the Ram - 04 Read Online Free Page A

looked into her lovely eyes. He bent and kissed her lips. "I am sorry, Medhbh."
    He rode a red horse, such as he had ridden when he first came to Cremmsmound. Its coat shone in the early morning sunshine. From beyond the walls of Caer Mahlod came the sound of bird song.
    He wore all his ceremonial fighting gear, the ancient gear of the Vadhagh. He wore a shirt of blue samite and his breeks were doeskin. He wore a peaked, conical silver helm with his runic name set into it (the runes were indecipherable to the Mabden) and he wore his byrnie, a layer of silver upon a layer of brass. He wore all save his Scarlet Robe, his Name-robe, for that he had traded to the Wizard Calatin at the place he knew as Moidel’s Mount. Upon the horse was a mantle of yellow velvet and harness and saddle were of crimson leather with designs picked out in white.
    For weapons Corum took a lance, an axe, a sword and a dirk. The lance was tall, its shaft strengthened with gleaming brass, its head of polished iron. The axe was double-headed, plain and long-hafted, also bound with bands of brass. The sword hung in a scabbard matching the horse's harness and its hilt was dressed in leather, bound with fine gold and silver wire, with a heavy round pommel of bronze. The dirk had been made by the same craftsman and matched the sword.
    ‘ ‘ Who could mistake you for anything but a demigod,'' said King Fiachadh approvingly.
    Prince Corum made a small smile and clutched his reins in his silver hand. He reached with his other hand to adjust the plain war-board which hung behind his saddle over one of the panniers containing as well as his provisions a tightly rolled fur cape which he would need as he advanced into Fhoi Myore lands. The other cape, the Sidhi Cloak, that of Arianrod, he had rolled and wrapped about his waist. Tucked into this were the gauntlets he would wear later, to protect one hand from the cold and to disguise the other so that he would not be easily recognized by any enemy.
    Medhbh tossed back her long red hair and came forward to kiss his fleshly hand, looking up at him with eyes that were both proud and troubled. "Have care with your life, Corum," she murmured. "Preserve it if you can, for all of us will need you even when this quest is over."
    "I shall not throw my life away," he promised. "Life has become good for me, Medhbh. But neither do I fear death at this moment." He wiped sweat from his forehead. All his gear made him hot beneath the sun which was already blazing down, but he knew he would not be warmed for long. He adjusted the embroidered eye-patch over the blind socket. He touched her gently upon her brown arm. "I shall come back to you," he promised.
    King Mannach folded his arms across his chest and cleared his throat. "Bring Amergin to us, Prince Corum. Bring our High King with you."
    "Only if Amergin is with me will I come back to Caer Mahlod. And if I cannot bring him, then I will make every effort to send him to you, King Mannach."
    "This is a great quest, this quest," said King Mannach. "Farewell, Corum."
    "Farewell, Corum," said Fiachadh the red-bearded, putting a large strong hand upon the Vadhagh's knee. "Good luck in this."
    "Farewell, Corum," said Medhbh, and her voice was now as steady as her gaze.
    Then Corum kicked at the flanks of his red horse and he went from them.
    It was with a calm mind that Corum rode from Caer Mahlod, across the gentle hills, into the deep, cool forest, going East to Caer Llud, listening to the birds, the rush of the little shining streams over old rocks, the whisper of the oaks and the elms.
    Not once did Corum look back; not once did he feel a pang of regret, nor grieve or know fear or reluctance concerning his quest, for he knew that he fulfilled his destiny and that he represented a great ideal. He was, at that moment, content.
    Such contentment was rare, thought Corum, for one destined to take part in the eternal struggle. Perhaps because he did not fight against his destiny this