Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [30]
“Aah! It is too much. Too much!” He writhed in agony while the demonic life-essence poured into him and the cat-thing roared and died.
Then it was gone and Elric lay gasping on the sand as the beast’s corpse gradually faded into nothingness, returning to the realm from which it had been summoned. For a few seconds Elric wanted to follow the thing into its home regions, for the stolen energy threatened to spill out of his body, burst its way from his blood and his bones; but old habits fought to control this lust until at last he once again had a rein upon himself. He began slowly to rise from the ground only to hear the approach of hoofs.
He whirled, the sword ready, but saw it was the traveler who had earlier sought to help him. Stormbringer felt no sentiment in the matter and stirred in his hand, ready to take the soul of this friend as readily as it had stolen the souls of Elric’s enemies.
“No!” The albino forced the blade back into its scabbard. He felt almost sick with the energy leeched from the demon but he made himself take a grave bow as the rider joined him. “I thank you for your help, stranger. I had not expected to find a friend this close to Quarzhasaat.”
The young man regarded him with some sympathy and good will. He had startlingly handsome features with dark, humorous eyes in his gleaming black flesh. On his short, curly hair he wore a skull-cap decorated with peacock feathers and his jacket and breeches seemed to be of black velvet stitched with gold thread, over which was thrown a pale-coloured hooded cloak of the pattern usually worn by desert peoples in these parts. He rode up slowly on the loping, bovine mount which had cloven hoofs and a broad head, a massive hump above its shoulders, like that of certain cattle Elric had seen in scrolls depicting the Southern Continent.
At the young man’s belt was a richly carved stick of some kind with a crooked handle, about half his height, and on his other hip he wore a simple flat-hilted sword.
“I had not expected to find an emperor of Melniboné in these parts, either!” said the man with some amusement. “Greetings, Prince Elric. I am honoured to make your acquaintance.”
“We have not met? How do you know my name?”
“Oh, such tricks are nothing to one of my craft, Prince Elric. My name is Alnac Kreb and I am making my way to the oasis they call the Silver Flower. Shall we return to your camp and your horse? I am glad to say he is unharmed. What powerful enemies you have, to send such a foul demon against you! Have you given offense to the Sorcerer Adventurers of Quarzhasaat?”
“It would seem so.” Elric walked beside the newcomer as they made their way back towards the Red Road. “I am grateful to you, Master Alnac Kreb. Without your help, I should now be absorbed body and soul in that creature and borne back to whatever hell gave birth to it. But I must warn you, there is some danger that I shall be attacked again by those who sent it.”
“I think not, Prince Elric. They were doubtless confident of their success and, what’s more, wanted no further business with you, once they realized that you were no ordinary mortal. I saw a pack of them—from three separate sects of that unpleasant guild—riding rapidly back to Quarzhasaat not an hour since. Curious as to what they fled from, I came this way. And so found you. I was glad to be of some minor service.”
“I, too, am riding for the Silver Flower Oasis, though I know not what to expect there.” Elric had taken a strong liking to this young man. “I would be glad of your company on the journey.”
“Honoured, sir. Honoured!” Smiling, Alnac Kreb dismounted from his odd beast and tethered it close to Elric’s horse which was yet to recover from its terror, though it was now quieter.
“I will not ask you to weary yourself further tonight, sir,” Elric added, “but I’m mightily curious to know how you guessed my name and my race. You spoke of a trick of your craft. What would that trade be, may I