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Dyvim Slorm nodded, and Elric left his cousin to tend to making camp, while he went at once to Yishana’s tent where the tall queen awaited him impatiently.

The look in her eyes was shielded as he entered. She had a heavy, sensuous face that was beginning to show signs of aging. Her long hair was black and shone around her head. Her breasts were large and her hips broader than Elric remembered. She was sitting in a padded chair and the table before her was scattered with battle-maps and writing materials, parchment, ink and quills.

“Good morning, wolf,” said she with a half-smile that was at once sardonic and provocative. “My scouts reported that you were riding with your countrymen. This is pleasant. Have you forsaken your new wife to return to subtler pleasures?”

“No,” he said.

He stripped off his heavy riding cloak and flung it on a bench. “Good morning, Yishana. You do not change. I’ve half a suspicion that Theleb K’aarna gave you a draught of the waters of Eternal Life before I killed him.”

“Perhaps he did. How goes your marriage?”

“Well,” he said as she moved closer and he felt the warmth of her body.

“And now I’m disappointed,” she smiled ironically and shrugged. They had been lovers on different occasions, in spite of the fact that Elric had been partially responsible for her brother’s death during the raid on Imrryr. Dharmit of Jharkor’s death had put her on the throne and, being an ambitious woman, she had not taken the news with too much sadness. Elric had no wish to resume the relationship, however.

He turned immediately to the matter of the forthcoming battle.

“I see you’re preparing for more than a skirmish,” he said. “What forces have you and what are your chances of winning?”

“There are my own White Leopards,” she told him, “five hundred picked warriors who run as swiftly as horses, are as strong as mountain cats and as ferocious as blood-mad sharks—they are trained to kill and killing is all they know. Then there are my other troops—infantry and cavalry, some eighty lords in command. The best cavalry are from Shazaar, wild riders but clever fighters and well-disciplined. Tarkesh has sent fewer men since I understand King Hilran needed to defend his southern borders against a heavy attack. However, there are almost a thousand and fifty foot-soldiers and some two hundred mounted men from Tarkesh. In all we can put perhaps six thousand trained warriors on the field. Serfs, slaves and the like are also fighting, but they will of course serve only to meet the initial onslaught and will die in the early part of the battle.”

Elric nodded. These were standard military tactics. “And what of the enemy?”

“We have more numbers—but they have Devil Riders and hunting tigers. There are also some beasts they keep in cages—but we cannot guess what they are since the cages are covered.”

“I heard that the men of Myyrrhn are flying hither. The import must be great for them to leave their eyries.”

“If we lose this battle,” she said gravely, “Chaos could easily engulf the Earth and rule over it. Every oracle from here to Shazaar says the same thing, that Jagreen Lern is but the tool of less natural masters, that he is aided by the Lords of Chaos. We are not only fighting for our lands, Elric, we are fighting for the human race!”

“Then let us hope we win,” he said.

Elric stood among the captains as they surveyed the mobilizing army. Tall Dyvim Slorm was by his side, his golden shirt loose on his slim body and his manner confident, arrogant. Also here were hardened soldiers of many smaller campaigns; short, dark-faced men from Tarkesh with thick armour and black, oiled hair and beards. The half-naked winged men from Myyrrhn had arrived, with their brooding eyes, hawklike faces, their great wings folded on their backs, quiet, dignified, seldom speaking. The Shazaarian commanders were there also, in jackets of grey, brown and black, in rust-coloured bronze armour. With them stood the captain of Yishana’s White Leopards, a long-legged, thick-bodied