Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [79]
It was clear they could not resist the mob and Elric was bitter, feeling that they had come very close to the object of their quest only to be cut down by the most wretched of the denizens of Chaos.
Then more bodies fell at his feet and he realized that he had not killed them. Oone, too, was astonished by this turn of events.
They looked up. They could not understand what was happening.
The Pearl Warrior was riding through the ranks of the rabble cutting this way and that, jabbing with his makeshift spear, slicing with his sword, cackling and crowing at every fresh life he took. His horrible eyes were alight with some sort of amusement and even his horse was slashing at the rabble with its hoofs, nipping at them with its teeth.
“This is the proper thing!” Queen Sough clapped her hands. “This is true. This is to ensure honour for you!”
Gradually driven back by the Pearl Warrior, by Elric and Oone as they resumed their attack, the rabble began to break up.
Soon the whole awful mob was running for the cliff edge, leaping into the abyss rather than die by the Pearl Warrior’s bone spear and his silver sword.
His laughter continued as he herded the remainder to their doom. He screamed his mockery at them. He raved at them for cowards and fools. “Ugly things. Ugly! Ugly! Go! Perish! Go! Go! Go! Banished now, they are. Banished to that! Yes!”
Elric and Oone leaned against the barge trying to catch their breaths.
“I am grateful to you, Pearl Warrior,” said the albino as the armoured rider approached. “You have saved our lives.”
“Yes.” The Pearl Warrior nodded gravely, his eyes unusually thoughtful. “That is so. Now we shall be equal. Then we shall know the truth. I am not free, as you. You believe this?” His last question was addressed to Oone.
She nodded. “I believe that, Pearl Warrior. I, too, am glad you helped us.”
“I am the one who protects. This must be done. You go on? I was your friend.”
Oone looked back to where Queen Sough was nodding, her arms outstretched in some kind of offering.
“Here I am not your enemy,” said the Pearl Warrior, as if instructing the simple-minded. “If I were complete, we three would be a trinity of greatness! Aye! Thou knowest it! I have not the personal. This words are hers, you see. I think.”
And with that particularly mystifying pronouncement he wheeled his horse and rode away over the grassy limestone.
“Too many defenders, not enough protectors, perhaps.” Oone sounded as odd as the others. Before Elric could quiz her on this she had given her attention back to Queen Sough. “My lady? Did you summon the Pearl Warrior to our aid?”
“She called him to you, I think.” Queen Sough seemed almost in a trance. It was odd to hear her speaking of herself in the third person. Elric wondered if this were the normal mode here and again it occurred to him that all the people of this realm were not human but had assumed human shape.
They were now stranded high above the river. Going to the edge of the abyss, Elric stared down. He saw only some bodies which had been caught on the rocks, others drifting downstream. He was glad, then, that their boat was not having to negotiate waters clogged with so many corpses.
“How can we continue?” he asked Oone. He had a vision of himself and her in the Bronze Tent, of the child between them. All were dying. He knew a pang of need, as if the drug were calling to him, reminding him of his addiction. He remembered Anigh in Quarzhasaat and Cymoril, his betrothed, waiting in Imrryr. Had he been right to let Yyrkoon rule in his place? Every one of his decisions seemed now to be foolish. His self-esteem, never high, was lower than he could remember. His lack of forethought, his failures, his follies, all reminded him that not only was he physically deficient, he was also lacking in ordinary common sense.
“It is in the nature of the hero,” said Queen Sough in relation to nothing. Then she looked at them and her eyes were maternal, kindly. “You are safe!”
“I think there is some urgency,