Yet there was a look of great sorrow on its face as it observed Corum. It gestured at him and grunted, pointing into the forest as if it wanted Corum to accompany it. Corum shook his head, indicating the manacles with a nod.
The creature stroked the curly brown fur of its own neck thoughtfully, then it shuffled away again, back into the darkness of the forest.
Corum watched it go, almost forgetful of his pain in his astonishment.
Had the creature witnessed his torture? Was it trying to save him?
Or perhaps this was an illusion, like the illusion of the city and his sister, induced by his agonies.
He felt his energy weakening. A few more moments and he would be returning to the plane where the Mabden would be able to see him. And he knew that he would not find the strength again to leave the plane.
Then the brown creature reappeared and it was leading something by one of its hands, pointing at Corum.
At first Corum saw only a bulky shape looming over the brown creature-a being that stood some twelve feet tail and was some six feet broad, a being that, like the furry beast, walked on two legs.
Corum looked up at it and saw that it had a face. It was a dark face and the expression on it was sad, concerned, doomed. The rest of its body, though in outline the same as a man's, seemed to refuse light-no detail of it could be observed. It reached out and it picked up the board as tenderly as a father might pick up a child. It bore Conim back with it into the forest.
Unable to decide if this were fantasy or reality, Corum gave up his efforts to remain on the other plane and merged back into the one he had left. But still the dark-faced creature carried him, the brown beast at its side, deep into the forest, moving at great speed until they were far away from the Mabden camp.
Corum fainted once again.
He awoke in daylight and he saw the board lying some distance away. He lay on the green grass of a valley and there was a spring nearby and, close to that, a little pile of nuts and fruit. Not far from the pile of food sat the brown beast. It was watching him.
Corum looked at his left arm. Something had been smeared on the stump and there was no pain there anymore. He put his right hand to his right eye and touched a sticky stuff that must have been the same salve as that which was on his stump.
Birds sang in the nearby woods. The sky was clear and blue. If it were not for his injuries, Corum might have thought the events of the last few weeks a black dream.
Now the brown, furry creature got up and shambled toward him. It cleared its throat. Its expression was still one of sympathy. It touched its own right eye, its own left wrist.
"How-pain?" it said in a slurred tone, obviously voicing the words with difficulty.
"Gone," Corum said. "I thank you, Brown Man, for your help in rescuing me."
The brown man frowned at him, evidently not understanding all the words. Then it smiled and nodded its head and said, "Good."
"Who are you?" Corum said. "Who was it you brought last night?"
The creature tapped its chest. "Me Serwde. Me friend of you."
"Serwde," said Corum, pronouncing the name poorly. "I am Corum. And who was the other being?"
Serwde spoke a name that was far more difficult to pronounce than his own. It seemed a complicated name.
"Who was he? I have never seen a being like him. I have never seen a being like yourself, for that matter. Where do you come from?"
Serwde gestured about him. "Me live here. In forest. Forest called Laahr. My master live here. We live here many, many, many days-since before Vadhagh, you folk."
"And where is your master now?" Corum asked again.
"He gone. Not want be seen folk."
And now Corum dimly recalled a legend. It was a legend of a creature that lived even further to the west than the people of Castle Erorn. It was called by the legend the Brown Man of Laahr. And this was the legend come to life. But he remembered no legend concerning the other being whose name he could not pronounce.
"Master say place nearby will tend you good," said the Brown Man.
"What sort of place, Serwde?"
"Mabden place."
Corum smiled crookedly. "No, Serwde. The Mabden will not be kind to me."
"This different Mabden."
"All Mabden are my enemies. They hate me." Corum looked at his stump. "And I hate them."
"These old Mabden. Good Mabden."
Corum got up and staggered. Pain began to nag in his head, his left wrist began to ache. He was still completely naked and his body bore many bruises and small cuts, but it had been washed.
Slowly it began to dawn on him that he was a cripple. He had been saved from the worst of what Glandyth had planned for him, but he was now less of a being than he had been. His face was no longer pleasing for others to look at. His body had become ugly.
And the wretch that he had become was all that was left of the noble Vadhagh race. He sat down again and he began to weep.
Serwde grunted and shuffled about. He touched Coram's shoulder with one of his handlike paws. He patted Corum's head, trying to comfort him.
Corum wiped his face with his good hand. "Do not worry, Serwde. I must weep, for if I did not I should almost certainly die. I weep for my kin. I am the last of my line. There are no more Vadhagh but me…"
"Serwde too. Master too," said the Brown Man of Laahr. "We have no more people like us."
"Is that why you saved me?"
"No. We helped you because Mabden were hurting you."
"Have the Mabden ever hurt you?"
"No. We hide from them. Their eyes bad. Never see us. We hide from Vadhagh, the same."
"Why do you hide?"
"My master know. We stay safe."
"It would have been well for the Vadhagh if they had hidden. But the Mabden came so suddenly. We were not warned. We left our castles so rarely, we communicated amongst ourselves so little, we were not prepared."
Serwde only half understood what Corum was saying, but he listened politely until Corum stopped, then he said, "You eat. Fruit good. You sleep. Then we go to Mabden place."
"I want to find arms and armor, Serwde. I want clothes. I want a horse. I want to go back to Glandyth and follow him until I see him alone. Then I want to kill him. After that, I will wish only to die."
Serwde looked sadly at Corum. "You kill?"
"Only Glandyth. He killed my people."
Serwde shook his head. "Vadhagh not kill like that."
"I do, Serwde. I am the last Vadhagh. And I am the first to learn what it is to kill in malice. I will be avenged on those who maimed me, on those who took away my family."
Serwde grunted miserably.
"Eat. Sleep."
Corum stood up again and realized he was very weak. "Perhaps you are right there. Perhaps I should try to restore my strength before I carry on." He went to the pile of nuts and fruits and began to eat. He could not eat much at first and lay down again to sleep, confident that Serwde would rouse him if danger threatened.
For five days Corum stayed in the valley with the Brown Man of Laahr. He hoped that the dark-faced creature would come back and tell him more of his and Serwde's origin, but this did not happen.
At last his wounds had healed completely and he felt well enough to set off on a journey. On that morning, he addressed Serwde.
"Farewell, Brown Man of Laahr. I thank you for saving me. And I thank your master. Now I go."
Corum saluted Serwde and began to walk up the valley, heading toward the east. Serwde came shambling after him. "Corum! Coruml You go wrong way."
"I go back to where I shall find my enemies," Corum said. "That is not the wrong way."
"My master say, me take you that way…" Serwde pointed toward the west.