The Worm Ouroboros by Eric Rücker Eddison (e book reader online .TXT) 📖
- Author: Eric Rücker Eddison
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Brandoch Daha hurled his horsemen upon Corsus and the subject allies,
while all along the battle-line the Demons rallied to fling back the
enemy. For a breathless while, the issue hung in suspense: then the
men of Gilta and Nevria broke and fled, Brandoch Daha and his cavalry
swept through the gap, wheeled right and left and took Corsus and
Corinius in flank and rear.
There fell in this onset Axtacus lord of Permio, the kings of Ellien
and Gilta, Gorius the son of Corsus, the Count of Tzeusha, and many
other noblemen and men of mark. Of the Demons many were hurt and many
slain, but none of great note save Kamerar of Stropardon, whose head
Corinius swapt off clean with a blow of his battle-axe, and Trentmar
whom Corsus smote full in the stomach with a javelin so that he fell
down from his horse and was dead at once. Now was all the left and
centre of the Witches’ battle thrown into great confusion, and the
allies most of all fallen into disorder and fain to yield themselves
and pray for mercy. The King, seeing the extent of this disaster, sent
a galloper to Corund, who straightway sent to Corsus and Corinius
commanding them get them at their speediest with all their folk back
into Carcë while time yet served. Himself in the meantime, showing
now, like the sun, his greatest countenance in his lowest estate, set
on with his weary army to stem the advance of Juss, who now momently
gathered fresh force against him, and to keep open for the rest of the
King’s forces their way by the bridge-gate into Carcë. Corinius, when
he understood it, galloped thither with a band of men to aid Corund,
and this did likewise Heming and Dekalajus and other captains of the
Witches. But Corsus himself, counting the day lost and considering
that he was an old man and had fought now long enough, gat him privily
back into Carcë as quickly as he was able. And truly he was bleeding
from many wounds.
By this great stand of Corund and his men was time won for a great
part of the residue of the army to escape into Carcë. And ever the
Witches were put aback and lost much ground, yet ever the Lord Corund
by his great valiance and noble heart recomforted his folk, so that
they gave back very slowly, most bloodily disputing the ground foot by
foot to the bridge-gate, that they also might win in again, so many as
might. Juss said, “This is the greatest deed of arms that ever I in
the days of my life did see, and I have so great an admiration and
wonder in my heart for Corund that almost I would give him peace. But
I have sworn now to have no peace with Witchland.”
Lord Gro was in that battle with the Demons. He ran Didarus through
the neck with his sword, so that he fell down and was dead.
Corund, when he saw it, heaved up his axe, but changed his intention
in the manage, saying, “O landskip of iniquity, shalt thou kill beside
me the men of mine household? But my friendship sitteth not on a
weather vane. Live, and be a traitor.”
But Gro, being mightily moved with these words, and staring at great
Corund wide-eyed like a man roused from a dream, answered, “Have I
done amiss? ‘Tis easy remedied.” Therewith he turned about and slew a
man of Demonland. Which Spitfire seeing, he cried out upon Gro in a
great rage for a most filthy traitor, and bloodily rushing in thrust
him through the buckler into the brain.
In such wise and by such a sudden vengeance did the Lord Gro most
miserably end his life-days. Who, being a philosopher and a man of
peace, careless of particular things of earth, had followed and
observed all his days steadfastly one heavenly star; yet now in the
bloody battle before Carcë died in the common opinion of men a
manifold perjured traitor, that had at length gotten the guerdon of
his guile.
Now came the Lord Juss with a great rout of men armed on his great
horse with his sword dripping with blood, and the battle sprang up
into yet more noise and fury, and great manslaying befell, and many
able men of Witchland fell in that stour and the Demons had almost put
them from the bridge-gate. But the Lord Corund, rallying his folk,
swung back yet again the battletide, albeit he was by a great odds
outnumbered. And he sought none but Juss himself in that deadly
mellay; who when he saw him coming he refused him not but made against
him most fiercely, and with great clanging blows they swapped together
awhile, until Corund hewed Juss’s shield asunder and struck him from
his horse. Juss, leaping up again, thrust up at Corund with his sword
and with the violence of the blow brake through the rings of his byrny
about his middle and drave the sword into his breast. And Corund
felled him to earth with a great down-stroke on the helm, so that he
lay senseless.
Still the battle raged before the bridge-gate, and great wounds were
given and taken of either side. But now the sons of Corund saw that
their father had lost much of his blood and waxed feeble, and the
residue of his folk seeing it too, and seeing themselves so few
against so many, began to be abashed. So those sons of Corund, riding
up to him on either side with a band of men, made him turn back with
them and go with them in by the gate to Carcë, the which he did like a
man amazed and knowing not what he doeth. And indeed it was a great
marvel how so great a lord, wounded to the death, might sit on
horseback.
In the great court he was gotten down from his horse. The Lady
Prezmyra, when she perceived that his harness was all red with blood,
and saw his wound, fell not down in a swoon as another might, but took
his arm about her shoulder and so supported, with her step-sons to
help her, that great frame which could no more support itself yet had
till that hour borne up against the whole world’s strength in arms.
Leeches came that she had called for, and a litter, and they brought
him to the banquet hall. But after no long while those learned men
confessed his hurt was deadly, and all their cunning nought.
Whereupon, much disdaining to die in bed, not in the field fighting
with his enemies, the Lord Corund caused himself, completely armed and
weaponed, with the stains and dust of the battle yet upon him, to be
set in his chair, there to await death.
Heming, when this was done, came to tell it to the King, where from
the tower above the water-gate he beheld the end of this battle. The
Demons held the bridgehouse. The fight was done. The King sat in his
chair looking down to the battlefield. His dark mantle was about his
shoulders. He leaned forward resting his chin in his hand. They of his
bodyguard, nine or ten, stood huddled together some yards away as if
afraid to approach him. As Heming came near, the King turned his head
slowly to look at him. The low sun, swinging blood-red over Tenemos,
shone full on the King’s face. And as Heming looked in the face of the
King fear gat hold upon him, so that he durst not speak a word to the
King, but made obeisance and departed again, trembling like one who
has seen a sight beyond the veil.
XXXIITHE LATTER END OF ALL THE LORDS OF WITCHLAND
Of the council of war; and how the Lord Corsus,
being rejected of the King, turned his thoughts to
other things; and of the last conjuring that was
in Carcë and the last wine-bibbing; and how yet
once again the Lady Prezmyra spake with the
lords of Demonland in Carce.
GORICE the King held in his private chamber a council of war on the
morrow of the battle before Carcë. The morning was overcast with
sullen cloud, and though all the windows were thrown wide the sluggish
air hung heavy in the room, as if it too were pervaded by the cold
dark humour that clogged the vitals of those lords of Witchland like a
drowsy drug, or as if the stars would breathe themselves for a greater
mischief. Pale and drawn were those lords’ faces; and, for all they
strove to put on a brave countenance before the King, clean gone was
the vigour and warlike mien that clothed them but yesterday. Only
Corinius kept some spring of his old valiancy and portly bearing,
seated with arms akimbo over against the King, his heavy under-jaw set
forward and his nostrils wide. He had slept ill or watched late, for
his eyes were bloodshotten, and the breath of his nostrils was heavy
with wine.
“We tarry for Corsus,” said the King. “Had he not word of my bidding?”
Dekalajus said, “Lord, I will summon him again. These misfortunes I
fear me hang heavy on his mind, and, by your majesty’s leave, he is
scarce his own man since yesterday.”
“Do it straight,” said the King. “Give me thy papers, Corinius. Thou
art my general since Corund gat his death. I will see what yesterday
hath cost us and what power yet remaineth to crush me these snakes by
force of arms.”
“These be the numbers, O King,” said Corinius. “But three thousand and
five hundred fighting men, and well nigh half of these over much
crippled with wounds to do aught save behind closed walls. It were but
to give the Demons easy victory to adventure against them, that stand
before Carcë four thousand sound men in arms.”
The King blew scornfully through his nostrils. “Who told thee their
strength?” said he.
“It were dangerous to write them down a man fewer,” answered Corinius.
And Hacmon said, “My Lord the King, I would adventure my head they
have more. And your majesty will not forget they be all flown with
eagerness and pride after yesterday’s field, whereas our men–”
“Were ye sons of Corund,” said the King, breaking in quietly on his
speech and looking dangerously upon him, “but twigs of your father’s
tree, that he being cut down ye have no manhood left nor vital sap,
but straight wither in idiotish dotage? I will not have these womanish
counsels spoke in Carcë; no, nor thought in Carcë.”
Corinius said, “We had sure intelligence, O King, whenas they landed
that their main army was six thousand fighting men; and last night
myself spake with full a score of our officers, and had a true tale of
some few of the Demons captured by us before they were slain with the
sword. When I say to you Juss standeth before Carcë four thousand
strong, I swell not the truth. His losses yesterday were but a
flea-biting ‘gainst ours.”
The King nodded a curt assent.
Corinius proceeded, “If we might contrive indeed to raise help from
without Carcë, were it but five hundred spears to distract his mind
some part from usward, nought but your majesty’s strict command should
stay me but I should assault him. It were perilous even so, but never
have you known me leave a fruit unplucked at for fear of thorns. But
until that time, nought but your straight command might win me to
essay a sally. Since well I wot it were my death, and
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