Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [23]
The horse cried out again and stumbled. Elric desperately tried to see ahead. The smoke and the flies were too much for either himself or his horse. Flies filled his mouth and nostrils. He gagged, trying to brush them from him, spitting them down to where the little man-rats squealed and died.
Another sound came dimly to him and miraculously the flies began to rise. Through watering eyes he saw the beetles start to move all in one direction, leaving a space through which he might ride. Without another thought he spurred his horse towards the gap, dragging great gasps of air into his lungs, as yet unsure if he had escaped or whether he had merely moved into a wider circle of firebeetles, for the smoke and the noise were still confusing him.
Spitting more flies from his mouth, he adjusted his visor and peered ahead. The beetles were no longer in sight, though he could hear them behind him. There were new shapes in the dust and smoke.
They were riders, moving on either side of the Red Road, driving the beetles back with long spears which they hooked under the carapaces and used as goads, doing the creatures no real harm but giving them enough pain to make them move, where Elric’s blade had failed. The riders wore flowing yellow robes which were caught by the breeze of their own movement and lifted about them like wings as, systematically, they herded the firebeetles away from the road and out into the desert while the remainder of the man-rats, perhaps grateful for this unexpected salvation, scattered and found burrows in the sand.
Elric did not sheath Stormbringer. He knew enough to understand that these warriors might well be saving him only incidentally and might even blame him for being in their way. The other possibility, which was stronger, was that these men had been following him for some time and did not wish the firebeetles to cheat them of their prey.
Now one of the yellow-clad riders detached himself from the throng and galloped up to Elric, hailing him with spear raised.
“I thank you mightily,” the albino said. “You have saved my life, sir. I trust I did not disrupt your hunt too much.”
The rider was taller than Elric, very thin, with a gaunt dark face and black eyes. His head was shaved and both his lips were decorated, apparently with tiny tattoos, as if he wore a mask of fine, multicoloured lace across his mouth. The spear was not sheathed and Elric prepared to defend himself, knowing that his chances against even so many human beings were greater than they had been against the firebeetles.
The man frowned at Elric’s statement, puzzled for a moment. Then his brow cleared. “We did not hunt the firebeetles. We saw what was happening and realized that you did not know enough to get out of the creatures’ way. We came as quickly as we could. I am Manag Iss of the Yellow Sect, kinsman to Councilor Iss. I am of the Sorcerer Adventurers.”
Elric had heard of these sects, who had been the chief warrior caste of Quarzhasaat and had been largely responsible for the spells which inundated the empire with sand. Had Lord Gho, not trusting him completely, set them to following him? Or were they assassins instructed to kill him?
“I thank you, nonetheless, Manag Iss, for your intervention. I owe you my life. I am honoured to meet one of your sect. I am Elric of Nadsokor in the Young Kingdoms.”
“Aye, we know of you. We were trailing you, waiting until we were far enough from the city to speak to you safely.”
“Safely? You’re in no danger from me, Master Sorcerer Adventurer.”
Manag Iss was evidently not a man who smiled often and when he smiled now it was a strange contortion of the face. Behind them, other members of the sect were beginning to ride back, rehousing their long spears in the scabbards attached to their saddles. “I did not think we were, Master Elric. We come to you in peace and we are your friends, if