Vanishing Tower - Michael Moorcock [28]
His laughter rang over the rooftops of Old Hrolmar and those who were abed covered their ears, believing themselves in the grip of nightmares.
"Come, friends, my blade still hungers!"
An assassin made to stand his ground and Elric swept the Black Sword up. The man raised his blade to protect his head and Elric brought the Black Sword down. It sheared through the steel and cut down through the hood, through the neck, through the breastbone. It clove the assassin completely in two and it stayed in the flesh, feasting, drawing out the last traces of the man's dark soul. And then the rest were running.
Elric drew a deep breath, avoided looking at the man his sword had slain last, sheathed the blade and turned to look for Moonglum.
It was then that the blow came on the back of his neck. He felt nausea rise in him and tried to shake it off. He felt a prick in his wrist and through the haze he saw a figure he thought at first was Moonglum. But it was another—perhaps a woman. She was tugging at his left hand. Where did she want him to go?
His knees became weak and he fell to the cobbles. He tried to call out, but failed. The woman was still tugging at his hand as if she sought to take him to safety. But he could not follow her. He fell on his shoulder, then on his back, glimpsed a swimming sky . . .
... and then the dawn was rising over the crazy spires of Old Hrolmar and he realised that several hours had passed since he had fought the assassins.
Moonglum's face appeared. It was full of concern.
"Moonglum?"
"Thank Elwher's gentle gods! I thought you slain by that poisoned blade."
Elric's head was clearing rapidly now. He rose to a sitting position. "The attacker came from behind. How . . . ?"
Moonglum looked embarrassed. "I fear those girls were not all they seemed."
Elric remembered the woman tugging at his left hand and he stretched out his fingers. "Moonglum! The Ring of Kings is gone from my hand! The Actorios has been stolen!"
The Ring of Kings had been worn by Elric's forefathers for centuries. It had been the symbol of their power, the source of much of their supernatural strength.
Moonglum's face clouded. "I thought I stole the girls. But they were thieves. They planned to rob us. An old trick."
"There's more to it, Moonglum. They stole nothing else. Just the Ring of Kings. There's still a little gold left in my purse." He jingled his belt pouch, climbing to his feet.
Moonglum jerked his thumb at the street's far wall. There lay one of the girls, her finery all smeared with mud and blood.
"She got in the way of one of the assassins as we fought. She's been dying all night—mumbling your name. I had not told it to her. Therefore I fear you're right. They were sent to steal that ring from you. I was duped by them."
Elric walked rapidly to where the girl lay and he kneeled down beside her. Gently he touched her cheek. She opened her lids and stared at him from glazed eyes. Her lips formed his name.
"Why did you plan to rob me?" Elric asked. "Who is your master?"
"Urish . . ." she said in a voice that was a breeze passing through the grass. "Steal ring . . . take it to Nadsokor. . . ."
Moonglum now stood on the other side of the dying girl. He had found one of the wine flasks and he bent to give her a drink. She tried to sip the wine but failed. It ran down her little chin, down her slim neck and on to her wounded breast.
"You are one of the beggars of Nadsokor?" Moonglum said.
Faintly, she nodded, "Urish has always been my enemy," Elric told him.
"I once recovered some property from him and he has never forgiven me. Perhaps he sought the Actorios ring in payment." He looked down at the girl. "Your companion—has she returned to Nadsokor?"
Again the girl seemed to nod. Then all intelligence left the eyes, the lids closed and she ceased to breathe.
Elric got up. He was frowning, rubbing at the hand on which the Ring of Kings had been.