Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [42]
For more than a day and a night Elric sat with Raik Na Seem and the men and women of the Bauradim within the shelter of the Bronze Tent, their eyes fixed upon the strangely wizened body of Alnac the Dreamthief, which occasionally stirred and murmured yet still seemed as lifeless as the mummified goats which the sand-dunes sometimes revealed. Once Elric thought he heard the Holy Girl make a sound and once Raik Na Seem rose to put his hand on his daughter’s brow, then returned shaking his head.
“This is not the time to despair, father of my friend,” said Elric.
“Aye.” The First Elder of the Bauradim drew himself up, then settled down again beside Elric. “We set high store by prophecies here in the desert. It seems that our longing for help might have coloured our reason.”
They looked out of the tent into the morning. Smoke from the still-burning brands drifted across the lilac-coloured sky, borne upward and to the north by the light breeze. Elric found the smell almost sickening now, but his concern for his new friend made him forgetful of his own health. Occasionally he drank sparingly of Lord Gho’s elixir, unable to do more than control his craving, and when Raik Na Seem offered him water from his own flask Elric shook his head. Within him there were still many conflicts. He felt a strong comradeship with these people, a liking for Raik Na Seem which he valued. He had grown to care for Alnac Kreb, who had helped save his life in an action clearly as generous as the man’s general character. Elric was grateful for the Bauradim’s trust of him. Having heard his tale they would have been within their rights to banish him at the very least from the Silver Flower Oasis. Rather they had taken him to the Bronze Tent when the Blood Moon burned, allowing him to follow Lord Gho’s instructions, trusting him not to abuse their action. He was bound to them now by a loyalty he could never break. Perhaps they knew this. Perhaps they read his character as easily as they read Alnac’s. This sense of their trust heartened him, though it made his task all the more difficult, and he was determined in no way, however inadvertently, to betray it.
Raik Na Seem sniffed the wind and looked back towards the distant oasis. A column of black smoke marched into the sky, growing taller and taller, mingling with the smoke closer at hand: some released afrit joining its fellows. Elric would not have been surprised if it had taken shape before his eyes, so familiar had he become with strange events in the past days.
“There has been another attack,” said Raik Na Seem. He spoke unconcernedly. “Let us hope it is the last. They are burning the bodies.”
“Who attacks you?”
“More men of the Sorcerer Adventurer societies. I suspect their decisions have something to do with the internal politics of the city. Dozens of them are battling for some favour or other—perhaps the seat on the Council you mentioned. From time to time their machinations involve us. This is familiar to us. But I suppose the Pearl at the Heart of the World has become the only price which will pay for the seat, eh? So as the story spreads, more and more of those warriors are sent here to find it!” Raik Na Seem spoke with fierce humour. “Let us hope they must soon run out of inhabitants and eventually only the scheming lords themselves will be left, squabbling for non-existent power over a non-existent people!”
Elric watched as a whole tribe of nomads rode past, keeping some distance away from the Bronze Tent in order to show their respect. These tanned, white-skinned people had burning blue eyes as bright as those which stared into nothing within the tent and when their hoods were thrown back, startlingly blond hair, also like Varadia’s. Their clothing distinguished them, however, from the Bauradim. It was predominantly of a rich lavender shade with gold and dark green trimming. They were heading towards the Silver Flower Oasis, driving herds