certain aids or they inevitably die. They seek a means of returning to their own plane or some other more hospitable to them. Thus far they have been unsuccessful. That is why I thought we might bargain with them to come to our aid—if we offered to help them."
"They would betray us, no matter what bargain they made with us," Goffanon said. "It is as much in their nature to do so as it is in our nature to breathe air."
"We should have to guard against such a happening," said Ilbrec.
Goffanon gestured impatiently. "We could not. Listen to me, Ilbrec! Once I had the notion to visit Ynys Scaith, during the quiet times following the defeat of the Fhoi Myore. I knew what the Mabden said of Hy-Breasail, my own home—that it was inhabited by demons. I thought, therefore, that probably Ynys Scaith was a similar place—that while Mabden perished there, Sidhi would survive. I was wrong. What Hy-Breasail is to the Mabden, so Ynys Scaith is to the Sidhi. It belongs neither to this plane nor to ours. Moreover, the inhabitants use the properties of their land deliberately to torture and to slay all visitors not of their own kind."
‘ 'Yet you escaped," put in Corum. "And Artek and a few others survived."
"By luck in both cases. Artek told you that they found their ship by purest chance. Similarly, I stumbled into the sea. Once clear of Ynys Scaith I could not be followed by the inhabitants. I swam for more than a day before I reached an island little more than a crag of rock jutting from the sea. There I remained until sighted by a ship. They were wary of me, but they took me aboard and eventually I made my way back to Hy-Breasail and never left thereafter."
"You mentioned nothing of this when first we met," said Corum.
"For good reason," growled the Sidhi smith. "I would have mentioned nothing now, save that Artek spoke of it."
' 'Yet you speak only of general terrors, not of specific dangers,'' said Ilbrec reasonably.
"That," said Goffanon, "is because the specific dangers are indescribable." He got up. "We fight the Fhoi Myore without seeking such allies as the folk of Ynys Scaith. That way some of us might survive. The other way—we are all doomed. I speak the truth."
"As you see it," Corum could not resist saying. At this, Goffanon's face hardened. He picked up his axe, flung it onto his shoulder and left the tent without another word.
THE SEVENTH CHAPTER
IN WHICH OLD FRIENDSHIPS APPEAR SUDDENLY DISCARDED
Amergin came to Corum’s chambers that night while Medhbh was elsewhere, visiting her father. He entered without knocking and Corum, who had been staring through the window at the fires of the camp, turned when he detected a footfall.
Amergin spread his thin hands. "I apologise for my rudeness, Prince Corum, but I wished to speak with you privately. I gather that you have angered Goffanon in some way."
Corum nodded. "There was a dispute."
"Concerning Ynys Scaith?"
"Aye."
"You had considered visiting the place?"
‘ ‘I am due to lead your army on the day after tomorrow. Clearly it would be impossible for me to do both.'' Corum indicated a carved chair. "Be seated, Archdruid."
Corum sat down upon his bed as Amergin lowered himself into the chair.
"Yet you would go, if you had no responsibilities here?" The High King spoke slowly, without looking at Corum.
"I think so. Ilbrec is for the venture."
"Your chances of survival would seem to be exceptionally slender."
"Perhaps." Corum rubbed at his eye-patch. "But then if we cared considerably about our survival we would not be engaged in this war against the Fhoi Myore."
"That is reasonable," said Amergin.
Corum tried to interpret the import of what Amergin was saying. "There are many reasons," he said, "why I should lead the Mabden. Morale must be kept as high as possible while we march through the cold lands."
"True," said Amergin. "I have been debating all this in my mind, as no doubt have you. But you will remember that I asked you earlier to
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