The Bane of the Black Sword - Michael Moorcock [39]
"Now, why did you come here? I could have you tortured for days for what you did, slaying ten of my best outriders."
"We recognised the chance of enriching ourselves by aiding you, Lord Flame Bringer," said Elric. "We could show you the richest towns, lead you to ill-defended cities that would take little time to fall. Will you enlist us?"
"I've need of such men as you, true enough. I'll enlist you readily—but mark this, I'll not trust you until you've proved loyal to me. Find yourselves quarters now—and come to the feast, tonight. There I'll be able to show you something of the power I hold—the power which will smash the strength of the West and lay it waste for ten thousand miles."
"Thanks," said Elric. "I'll look forward to tonight."
They left the tent and wandered through the haphazard collection of tents and cooking fires, wagons and animals. There seemed little food, but wine was in abundance and the taut, hungry stomachs of the barbarians were placated with that.
They stopped a warrior and told him of Terarn Gashtek's orders to them. The warrior sullenly led them to a tent.
"Here—it was shared by three of the men you slew. It is yours by right of battle, as are the weapons and booty inside."
"We're richer already," grinned Elric with feigned delight.
In the privacy of the tent, which was less clean than Terarn Gashtek's, they debated.
"I feel uncommonly uncomfortable," said Moonglum, "surrounded by this treacherous horde. And every time I think of what they made of Eshmir, I itch to slay more of them. What now?"
"We can do nothing now—let us wait until tonight and see what develops." Elric sighed. "Our task seems impossible—I have never seen so great a horde as this."
"They are invincible as they are," said Moonglum. "Even without Drinij Bara's sorcery to tumble down the walls of cities, no single nation could withstand them and, with the Western Nations squabbling among themselves, they could never unite in time. Civilisation itself is threatened. Let us pray for inspiration—your dark gods are at least sophisticated, Elric, and we must hope that they'll resent the barbarian's intrusion as much as we do."
"They play strange games with their human pawns," Elric replied, "and who knows what they plan?"
Terarn Gashtek's smoke-wreathed tent had been further lighted by rush torches when Elric and Moonglum swaggered in, and the feast, consisting primarily of wine, was already in progress.
"Welcome, my friends," shouted the Flame Bringer, waving his goblet. "These are my captains—come, join them!"
Elric had never seen such an evil-looking group of barbarians. They were all half-drunk and, like their leader, had draped a variety of looted articles of clothing about themselves. But their swords were their own.
Room was made on one of the benches and they accepted wine which they drank sparingly.
"Bring in our slave!" yelled Terarn Gashtek. "Bring in Drinij Bara our pet sorcerer." Before him on the table lay the bound and struggling cat and beside it an iron blade.
Grinning warriors dragged a morose-faced man close to the fire and forced him to kneel before the barbarian chief. He was a lean man and he glowered at Terarn Gashtek and the little cat. Then his eyes saw the iron blade and his gaze faltered.
"What do you want with me now?" he said sullenly.
"Is that the way to address your master, spell-maker? Still, no matter. We have guests to entertain—men who have promised to lead us to fat merchant cities. We require you to do a few minor tricks for them."
"I'm no petty conjurer. You cannot ask this of one of the greatest sorcerers in the world!"
"We do not ask—we order. Come, make the evening lively. What do you need for your magic-making? A few slaves—the blood of virgins? We shall arrange it."
"I'm no mumbling shaman—I need no such trappings."
Suddenly the sorcerer saw Elric. The albino felt the man's powerful mind tentatively probing his own. He had been recognised