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Elric warned him: “He has a wardpact against swords, King Urish!”

The demon rattled its scales. “Is that thing a sword, I wonder?”

Urish hesitated. Spittle ran down his chin and his red eyes rolled. “Demon—begone! I must have my Hoard—it is mine!”

The demon watched him sardonically.

With a yell of terror and anguish Urish flung himself at the demon, the cleaver Hackmeat swinging wildly. Its blade came down on the hell-thing’s head, there was a sound like lightning striking metal and the cleaver shivered to pieces. Urish stood staring at the demon in quaking anticipation. Casually the demon reached out four of its hands and seized him. Its jaws opened wider than should have been possible, the bulk of the demon expanded until it was suddenly twice its original size. It brought the kicking Beggar King to its maw and suddenly there were only two legs waving from the mouth and then the demon gave a mighty swallow and there was nothing at all left of Urish of Nadsokor.

Elric shrugged. “Your wardpact is effective.”

The demon smiled. “Aye, sweet Elric.”

Now the tone of voice was very familiar. Elric looked narrowly at the demon. “You’re no ordinary . . .”

“I hope not, most beloved of mortals.”

Elric’s horse reared and snorted as the demon’s shape began to alter. There was a humming sound and black smoke coiled over the throne and then another figure was sitting there, its legs crossed. It had the shape of a man but it was more beautiful than any mortal. It was a being of intense and majestic beauty—unearthly beauty.

“Arioch!” Elric bowed his head before the Lord of Chaos.

“Aye, Elric. I took the demon’s place while you were gone.”

“But you have refused to aid me . . .”

“There are larger affairs afoot, as I’ve told you. Soon Chaos must engage with Law and such as Donblas will be dismissed to limbo for eternity.”

“You knew Donblas spoke to me in the labyrinth of the Burning God?”

“Indeed I did. That was why I afforded myself the time to visit your plane. I cannot have you patronized by Donblas the Justice Maker and his humourless kind. I was offended. Now I have shown you that my power is greater than Law’s.” Arioch stared beyond Elric at Rackhir, Brut, Moonglum and the rest who were protecting their eyes from his beauty. “Perhaps you fools of Tanelorn now realize that it is better to serve Chaos!”

Rackhir said grimly: “I serve neither Chaos nor Law!”

“One day you will be taught that neutrality is more dangerous than side-taking, renegade!” The harmonious voice was now almost vicious.

“You cannot harm me,” Rackhir said. “And if Elric returns with us to Tanelorn, then he, too, may rid himself of your evil yoke!”

“Elric is of Melniboné. The folk of Melniboné all serve Chaos—and are greatly rewarded. How else would you have rid this throne of Theleb K’aarna’s demon?”

“Perhaps in Tanelorn Elric would have no need of his Ring of Kings,” Rackhir replied levelly.

There was a sound like rushing water, the boom of thunder and Arioch’s form began to grow larger. But as it grew it also began to fade until there was nothing left in the hall but the stench of its garbage.

Elric dismounted and ran to the throne. Reaching under it he drew out dead Urish’s chest and hacked it open with Stormbringer. The sword murmured as if resenting the menial work. Gems, gold, artifacts scattered through the muck as Elric sought his ring.

And then at last he held it up in triumph, replacing it on his finger. His step was lighter as he returned to his horse.

Moonglum had in the meantime dismounted and was scooping the best of the jewels into his pouch. He winked at Rackhir, who smiled.

“And now,” Elric said, “I go to Troos to seek Theleb K’aarna there. I have still to take my vengeance upon him.”

“Let him rot in Troos’s sickly forest,” Moonglum said.

Rackhir placed a hand on Elric’s shoulder. “If Theleb K’aarna hates you so, he will find you again. Why waste your own time in the pursuit?”

Elric smiled slightly at his old friend. “You were ever clear in your arguments, Rackhir. And it is true that I am weary—both gods