Elric to Rescue Tanelorn - Michael Moorcock [117]
Moonglum of Elwher grinned as they passed a glowering face near one of the many lovely bridges which crossed the Cha.
“I do not think we are welcome here, Elric.”
Elric shrugged and gave a half smile. “Who can blame them for not wanting us here to disturb the tranquility of their city?”
Moonglum grinned through his mask of dust. “Mayhap they are willing to pay us to go elsewhere? Our purses sag like the stomachs of starved cows thanks to your extravagance. Chalal is said to be an expensive city. Every traveler must pay a tax towards the upkeep of all this beauty.”
“They’ll have trouble obtaining that tax from us. Come, let’s cross this bridge and seek a hostelry we can afford.”
They turned their horses and began to trot over a bridge of carved granite decorated with statues of Pikarayd’s mythical heroes.
They were almost halfway across when Moonglum pointed ahead. A company of horsemen were riding at great speed towards the bridge. They were clad in gilded armour and heavy white cloaks drifted out behind them. Their leader had a full helm with a crest of scarlet plumes. His visor was shut and completely hid his face. Politely, Moonglum and Elric drew their own horses aside to let the cavalry pass. The leader acknowledged this action with a salute as he went by and then jerked his helm round to regard Elric as if in recognition. Then the horsemen had ridden past and continued up a broad avenue between chestnut trees whose leaves had just begun to open.
“That knight must have seen you before,” Moonglum said. “By the style of his arms he was not of Chalal. I pray he’s not one of those who bears a grudge against you.”
“There are many such,” Elric said carelessly, “but none has ever managed to satisfy his vengeance.”
“They would be fools to try while you bear the Black Sword.”
“Aye.” Elric sighed and pretended to take an interest in the workmanship of an archway under which they now rode.
They spent the next several hours in searching for an inn but could not find one they could afford for even one night. There were no poor quarters in Chalal, no hostelries which catered for those with little money. Their enquiries revealed that the nearest township was a good two days’ ride away.
Night fell and Moonglum’s expression grew increasingly downcast.
“We must find an income, friend Elric,” he said. “Could you not magic us a treasure?”
“I have no skill in such conjurings,” Elric replied absently.
“Then we must seek employment. Merchants come and go from here. Perhaps they would pay us to protect their caravans. If we want to quarter where the traders stay we might…”
“Do what you will, Moonglum.” Elric dismounted from his horse and led it towards a great marble monument that had been erected upon a lawn of small, white flowers. The horse began to crop at the flowers and Elric settled himself with his back at the base of the monument. “I’ll sleep here. The night is warm enough.” He wrapped his weather-stained cloak about him and closed his eyes.
Moonglum knew that it was impossible to talk to his friend when he sank into one of these moods. He hesitated for a moment, and then rode off towards the river.
The night grew colder and Elric awoke shivering from a dark dream. Clouds had covered the moon and it was hard to see more than a few feet in any direction. He got up and stretched his arms. Then he saw the lights. There were about a dozen of them bobbing along the road towards him. He leaned against the monument and watched them with curiosity. He soon saw that the lights were lanterns carried by horsemen dressed in leather caps and jerkins, bearing oval shields, swords and staves.