Chronicles of Corum by Michael Moorcock

to become part of the land of the Fhoi Myore. Now only a few islands remain and on those islands are a few ruins, I have heard, speaking for the truth of the legends. After this disaster our people defeated the Fhoi Myore—with magical help in the form of a sword, a spear, a cauldron, a stallion, a ram and an oak tree. These things were kept at Caer Llud in the care of our High King, who had rule over all the different peoples of this land and who, once a year at mid-summer, would mete out justice in any disputes thought to be too complicated for kings such as myself. But now our magical treasures are scattered—some say lost forever—and our High King is a slave of the Fhoi Myore. That is why, in desperation, we recalled the legend of Corum and begged you for your help.”
    “You speak of mystical things,” said Corum, “and I was never one to understand magics and the like, but I will try to help.”
    ‘ ‘It is strange, what has happened to us,” mused King Mannach, “for here I sit eating with a demigod, and discover that, in spite of the evidence of his own existence, he is as unconvinced by the supernatural as was I!” He shook his head.”Well, Prince Corum of the Silver Hand, we must both learn to believe in the supernatural now. The Fhoi Myore have powers which prove that it exists.”
    “And so have you, it seems,” added Corum. “For I was brought here by an invocation distinctly magical in character!”
    A tall red-haired warrior leaned across the table, raising a wine cup high to toast Corum. “Now we shall defeat the Fhoi Myore. Now their devil dogs shall run! Hail to Prince Corum!”
    And all rose then, echoing the toast.
    “Hail to Prince Corum!”
    And Prince Corum acknowledged the toast and replied to it with:
    “Hail to the Tuha-na-Cremm Croich!”
    But in his heart he was disturbed. Where had he heard a similar toast? Not during his own life. Therefore he must recall another life, another time when he was hero and savior to a people not unlike these in some ways. Why did he feel a sense of dread, then? Had he betrayed them? Try as he might, he could not rid himself of these feelings.
    A woman left her place on the bench and swayed a little as she approached him. She put a soft, strong arm about him and kissed his right cheek. “Hail to thee, hero,” she murmured. “Now you shall bring us back our bull. Now you shall lead us into battle with the spear Bryionak. Now you will restore to us our lost treasures and our Great Places. And will you sire us sons, Corum? Heroes?” And she kissed him again.
    Corum smiled a bitter smile. “I will do all else, if it is in my power, lady. But one thing, the last thing, I cannot do, for Vadhagh cannot sire Mabden children.”
    She did not seem distressed. “There is magic for that, too, I think,” she said. For the third time she kissed him before returning to her place. And Corum felt desire for her and this sense of desire reminded him of Rhalina. And then he became sad again and his thoughts turned inward.
    “Do we tire you?” King Mannach asked a little later.
    Corum shrugged. “I have been sleeping for too long, King Mannach. I have stored up my energy. I should not be tired.”
    “Sleeping? Sleeping in the mound?”
    “Perhaps,” answered Corum dreamily. “I thought not, but perhaps it was in the mound. I lived in a castle overlooking the sea, wasting my days in regret and despair. And then you called. At first I would not listen. Then an old friend came and told me to answer your call. So I came. But possibly that was the dream …” Corum began to think he had quaffed too much of the sweet mead. It was strong. His vision was cloudy and he was filled with a peculiar mixture of melancholy and euphoria, “Is it important to you, King Mannach, my place of origin?”
    ‘ ‘No. What is important is that you are here at Caer Mahlod, that our people see you and take heart.”
    ‘ ‘Tell me more of the Fhoi Myore and how you were