He passed his good hand over the scars of his face and he brooded. "If I was handsome, I am ugly now."
She shrugged. "I have seen much worse."
Then the rage began to fill him again and his eye blazed and he shook the stump of his hand and he shouted at her. "Aye-and you will see much worse when I have done with Glandyth-a-Krae!"
Surprised, she recoiled from him and then regained her composure. "If you did not know you were handsome, if you were not vain, then why has this affected you so much?"
"I need my hands and my eyes so that I may kill Glandyth and watch him perish. With only half of these, I lose half the pleasure!"
"That is a childish statement, Prince Corum. It is not worthy of a Vadhagh. What else has this Glandyth done?"
Corum realized that he had not told her, that she would not know, living in this remote place, as cut off from the world as any Vadhagh had been.
"He has slain all the Vadhagh," he said. "Glandyth has destroyed my race and would have destroyed me if it had not been for your friend, the Giant of Laahr."
"He has done what…?" Her voice was faint. She was plainly shocked.
"He has put all my folk to death.”
"For what reason? Have you been warring with this Glandyth?"
"We did not know of his existence. It did not occur to us to guard against the Mabden. They seemed so much like brutes, incapable of harming us in our castles. But they have razed all our castles. Every Vadhagh save me is dead and most of the Nhadragh, I learned, who are not their cringing slaves."
"Are these the Mabden whose king is called Lyr-a-Brode of Kalenwyr?"
"They are."
"I, too, did not know they had become so powerful. I had assumed that it was the Pony Tribes who had captured you. I wondered why you were traveling alone so far from the nearest Vadhagh castle."
"What castle is that?" For a moment Corum hoped that there were Vadhagh still alive, much further west than he had guessed.
"It is called Castle Eran-Erin-some such name."
"Erorn?"
"Aye. That sounds the right name. It is over five hundred miles from here,.."
"Five hundred miles? Have I come so far? The Giant of Laahr must have carried me much further than I suspected. That castle you mention, my lady, was our castle. The Mabden destroyed it. It will take me longer than I thought to return and find Earl Glandyth and his Denledhyssi."
Suddenly Corum realized just how alone he was. It was if he had entered another plane of Earth where everything was alien to him. He knew nothing of this world. A world in which the Mabden ruled. How proud his race had been. How foolish. If only they had concerned themselves with knowledge of the world around them instead of seeking after abstractions.
Corum bowed his head.
The Margravine Rhalina seemed to understand his emotion. She lightly touched his arm. "Come, Prince of the Vadhagh. You must eat."
He allowed her to lead him from the room and into another where a meal had been laid out for them both. The food-mainly fruit and forms of edible seaweed-was much closer to his taste than any Mabden food he had seen previously. He realized that he was very hungry and that he was deeply tired. His mind was confused and his only certainty was the hatred he still felt for Glandyth and the vengeance he intended to take as soon as possible.
As they ate, they did not speak, but the Margravine watched his face the whole time and once or twice she opened her lips as if to say something, but then seemed to decide against it.
The room in which they ate was small and hung with rich tapestries covered in fine embroidery. As he finished his food and began to observe the details of the tapestry, the scenes thereon began to swim before his eyes. He looked questioningly at the Margravine, but her face was expressionless. His head felt light and he had lost the use of his limbs.
He tried to form words, but they would not come.
He had been drugged.
The woman had poisoned his food.
Once again he had allowed himself to become a victim of the Mabden.
He rested his head on his arms and fell, unwillingly, into a deep sleep.
Corum dreamed again.
He saw Castle Erorn as he had left it when he had first ridden out. He saw his father's wise face speaking and strained to hear the words, but could not. He saw his mother at work, writing her latest treatise on mathematics. He saw his sisters dancing to his uncle's new music.
The atmosphere was joyful.
But now he realized that he could not understand their activities. They seemed strange and pointless to him. They were like children playing, unaware that a savage beast stalked them.
He tried to cry out-to warn them-but he had no voice.
He saw fires begin to spring up in rooms-saw Mabden warriors who had entered the unprotected gates without the inhabitants' being in the least aware of their presence. Laughing amongst themselves, the Mabden put the silk hangings and the furnishings to the torch.
Now he saw his kinfolk again. They had become aware of the fires and were rushing to seek their source.
His father came into a room in which Glandyth-a-Krae stood, hurling books onto a pyre he had erected in the middle of the chamber. His father watched in astonishment as Glandyth burned the books. His father's lips moved and his eyes were questioning-almost polite surprise.
Glandyth turned and grinned at him, drawing his axe from his belt. He raised the axe…
Now Corum saw his mother. Two Mabden held her while another heaved himself up and down on her naked body.
Corum tried to enter the scene, but something stopped him.
He saw his sisters and his cousin suffering the same fate as his mother. Again his path to them was blocked by something invisible.
He struggled to get through, but now the Mabden were slitting the girls' throats. They quivered and died like slain fawns.
Corum began to weep.
He was still weeping, but he lay against a warm body and from somewhere in the distance came a soothing voice.
His head was being stroked and he was being rocked back and forth in a soft bed by the woman on whose breast he lay.
For a moment he tried to free himself, but she held him tight.
He began to weep again, freely this time, great groans racking his body, until he slept again. And now the sleep was free from dreams…
He awoke feeling anxious. He felt that he had slept for too long, that he must be up and doing something. He half raised himself in the bod and then sank down again into the pillows.
It slowly came to him that he was much refreshed. For the first time since he had set off on his quest, he felt full of energy and well-being. Even the darkness in his mind seemed to have retreated.
So the Margravine had drugged him, but now, it seemed, it had been a drug to make him sleep, to help him regain his strength.
But how many days had he slept?
He stirred again in the bed and felt the soft warmth of another beside him, on his blind side. He turned his head and there was Rhalina, her eyes closed, her sweet face at peace.
He recalled his dreaming. He recalled the comfort he had been given as all the misery in him poured forth.
Rhalina had comforted him. He reached out with his good hand to stroke the tumbled hair. He felt affection for her-an affection almost as strong as he had felt for his own family.
Reminded of his dead kin, he stopped stroking her hair and contemplated, instead, the puckered stump of his left hand. It was completely healed now, leaving a rounded end of white skin. He looked back at Rhalina. How could she bear to share her bed with such a cripple?
As he looked at her, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.
He thought he detected pity in that smile and was immediately resentful. He began to climb from the bed, but her hand on his shoulder stopped him.