Elric of Melnibone - Michael Moorcock [53]
‘How do they live?’
‘They live off each other, by and large. They trade with demons who occasionally visit Ameeron from time to time...’
‘Demons?’
‘Aye. And the bravest hunt the rats which dwell in the caverns below the city.’
‘What demons are these?’
‘Just creatures, mainly minor minions of Chaos, who want something that the Ameeronese can supply—a stolen soul or two, a baby, perhaps (though few are born here)—you can imagine what else, if you’ve knowledge of what demons normally demand from sorcerers.’
‘Aye. I can imagine. So Chaos can come and go on this plane as it pleases.’
‘I’m not sure it’s quite as easy. But it is certainly easier for the demons to travel back and forth here than it would be for them to travel back and forth in our plane.’
‘Have you seen any of these demons?’
‘Aye. The usual bestial sort. Coarse, stupid and powerful—many of them were once human before electing to bargain with Chaos. Now they are mentally and physically warped into foul, demon shapes.’
Elric found Rackhir’s words not to his taste. ‘Is that ever the fate of those who bargain with Chaos?’ he said.
‘You should know, if you come from Melniboné. I know that in Phum it is rarely the case. But it seems that the higher the stakes the subtler are the changes a man undergoes when Chaos agrees to trade with him.’
Elric sighed. ‘Where shall we enquire of our Tunnel Under the Marsh?’
‘There was an old man...’ Rackhir began, and then a grunt behind him made him pause.
Another grunt.
A face with tusks in it emerged from a patch of darkness formed by a fallen slab of masonry. The face grunted again.
‘Who are you?’ said Elric, his sword-hand ready.
‘Pig,’ said the face with tusks in it. Elric was not certain whether he was being insulted or whether the creature was describing himself.
‘Pig.’
Two more faces with tusks in them came out of the patch of darkness. ‘Pig,’ said one.
‘Pig,’ said another.
‘Snake,’ said a voice behind Elric and Rackhir. Elric turned while Rackhir continued to watch the pigs. A tall youth stood there. Where his head would have been sprouted the bodies of about fifteen good-sized snakes. The head of each snake glared at Elric. The tongues flickered and they all opened their mouths at exactly the same moment to say again:
‘Snake.’
‘Thing,’ said another voice. Elric glanced in that direction, gasped, drew his sword and felt nausea sweep through him.
Then Pigs, Snake and Thing were upon them.
Rackhir took one Pig before it could move three paces. His bow was off his back and strung and a red-fletched arrow nocked and shot, all in a second. He had time to shoot one more Pig and then drop his bow to draw his sword. Back to back he and Elric prepared to defend themselves against the demons’ attack. Snake was bad enough, with its fifteen darting heads hissing and snapping with teeth which dripped venom, but Thing kept changing its form—first an arm would emerge, then a face would appear from the shapeless, heaving flesh which shuffled implacably closer.
‘Thing!’ it shouted. Two swords slashed at Elric who was dealing with the last Pig and missed his stroke so that instead of running the Pig through the heart, he took him in a lung. Pig staggered backward and slumped to the ground in a pool of muck, He crawled for a moment, but then collapsed. Thing had produced a spear and Elric barely managed to deflect the cast with the flat of his sword. Now Rackhir was engaged with Snake and the two demons closed on the men, eager to make a finish of them. Half the heads of Snake lay writhing on the ground and Elric had managed to slice one hand off Thing, but the demon still seemed to have three other hands ready. It seemed to be created not from one creature but from several. Elric wondered if, through his bargaining with Arioch, this