Elric to Rescue Tanelorn - Michael Moorcock [27]
“Why, Lord Erekosë?” asked my captain.
“The queen’s malice,” I said, “and, I suspect, Katorn of the Imperial Guard spoke against me, turning her to hate me.”
They were satisfied with the explanation and, when we put in at a small cove near the Plains of Melting Ice, I bade them farewell, mounted my horse and rode swiftly for Loos Ptokai, knowing not what I should do when I got there, only that I must let Arjavh know the turn events had taken.
Two months passed, two ominous months in Loos Ptokai, while we wondered what Iolinda would do. Having no leader, the armies of mankind remained surrounding the city but not attacking it. The inaction was oppressive in itself. I became irritable at times, but there were days of happiness with Ermizhad. We openly acknowledged our love now.
I queried Arjavh about the terrible weapons of which he had spoken while I was his prisoner.
“Use them this once, Arjavh,” I told him. “Make a show of strength, that is all. They will be ready to discuss peace, then.”
“No,” he refused. “No. I do not think even this emergency merits such an action.”
“Arjavh,” I said, “I respect the reason you have for refusing to use the weapons, but I have grown to love the Eldren. I love them more, evidently, than they love themselves. My own race would suffer from your weapons. If the time comes when I feel we could use them, will you let me decide—take the decision away from you?”
“Perhaps,” he said.
“Arjavh—will you?”
“We Eldren have never been motivated by self-interest to the extent of destroying another race, Erekosë. Do not confuse our values with those of mankind.”
“I am not,” I replied. “That is my reason for asking you this. I could not bear to see such a noble race perish at the hands of one which is, in taking this action against you, ignoble!”
“Iolinda spoke the truth,” he said quietly. “You are a traitor to your race.”
“I seek only to stop them from continuing in their folly.”
He pursed his lips.
“For the love I have for Ermizhad and the love she has for me. For you and all the Eldren left alive, I ask you to let me take the decision if it becomes necessary.”
“For Ermizhad?” He raised his eyebrows. “Very well, my friend,” he said quickly. “Very well—I leave the decision to you. I suppose that is fair. But remember—do not act as unwisely as others of your kind.”
“I will not,” I promised.
CHAPTER SEVEN
After much bickering among themselves, I subsequently learned, the marshals had elected one of themselves, the most experienced, to act as their War Champion. They elected Count Roldero. The siege commenced in earnest.
The massive siege engines were brought forward, giant cannon boomed their solid shot against the trembling walls of Loos Ptokai, blazing fireballs screamed into the city, thousands of arrows followed them in black showers—and a million men came against our handful.
But Loos Ptokai, the ancient capital of Mernadin, Loos Ptokai held firm during those first days.
Wave upon wave of yelling warriors mounted the siege towers and we replied with arrows, with molten metal and with the fire-spewing silver cannon of the Eldren. We fought bravely, Arjavh and I leading the defenders and, whenever they sighted me, the warriors of Humanity screamed for vengeance and died striving for the privilege of slaying me.
We fought side by side, like brothers, Arjavh and I, but our Eldren warriors were tiring and, after a week of constant barrage, we began to realize that we could not hold against the enemy for more than another week.
During one of the rare lulls in the fighting, I told Arjavh of my decision.
“Break out your weapons,” I said, “and arm the Eldren.”
He made no remonstration. “Very well,” he said. “I agreed that you would decide. And I know that we are lost if we do not show Humanity our real strength. Very