Vanishing Tower - Michael Moorcock [37]
Elric shook his head. "Not my kind. I shall be slaying him soon and you will be left there until I discover the means of destroying you."
Somewhat pettishly, the demon folded its multitude of arms and closed its eyes.
Elric and Moonglum strode through the muck-strewn hall towards the door.
They were close to vomiting by the time they reached the steps leading into the forum. The rest of Elric's potions had been taken when his purse was taken and they had no protection now against the stink. Moonglum spat on the steps as they descended into the square and then he looked up and drew his two swords in a cross-arm motion.
"Elric!"
Some dozen beggars were rushing at them, bearing an array of clubs, axes and knives.
Elric laughed. "Here's a titbit for you, Stormbringer!" He drew his sword and began to swing the howling blade around his head, moving implacably towards the beggars. Almost immediately two of their number broke and ran, but the rest came in a rush at the pair.
Elric brought the sword lower and took a head from its shoulders and had bitten deep into the next man's shoulder before the first's blood had begun to spout.
Moonglum darted in with his two slim swords and engaged two of the beggars at the same time. Elric stabbed at another and the man screamed and danced, clutching at the blade which remorselessly drew out his soul and his life.
Stormbringer was singing a sardonic song now and three of the surviving beggars dropped their weapons and were off across the square as Moonglum neatly took both his opponents simultaneously in their hearts and Elric hacked down the rest of the rabble as they shouted and groaned for mercy.
Elric sheathed Stormbringer, looked down at the crimson ruin he had caused, wiped his lips as a man might who had just enjoyed a fine meal, caused Moonglum to shudder, and clapped his friend on the shoulder.
"Come—let's to Rackhir's aid!"
As Moonglum followed the albino, he reflected that Elric had absorbed more than just the Burning God's life force in the encounter in the labyrinth. Much of the callousness of the Lords of Chaos was in him today.
Today Elric seemed a true warrior of ancient Melniboné.
Chapter Five
Things Which Are Not Women
The beggars had been too absorbed in their triumph over the albino and their plans for their attack on the caravan of Tanelorn to think to seek the mounts on which Elric and Moonglum had come to Nadsokor.
They found the horses where they had left them the previous night. The superb Shazarian steeds were cropping the grass as if they had been waiting only a few minutes.
They climbed into their saddles and soon were riding as fast as the fleet horses could carry them—North-north-east to the point the caravan was logically due to reach.
Shortly after noon they had found it—a long sprawl of waggons and horses, awnings of gay, rich silks, brightly decorated harness, it stretched across the floor of a shallow valley. And surrounding it on all sides was the squalid and motley beggar army of King Urish of Nadsokor.
Elric and Moonglum reined in their horses when they reached the brow of the hill and they watched.
Theleb K'aarna and King Urish were not immediately visible and at last Elric saw them on the opposite hill. By the way in which the sorcerer was stretching out his arms to the deep blue sky Elric guessed he was already summoning the aid he had promised Urish.
Below Elric saw a flash of red and knew that it must be the scarlet garb of the Red Archer. Peering closer he saw one or two other shapes he recognised—Brut of Lashmar with his blond hair and his huge, burly body almost dwarfing his warhorse; Carkan, once of Pan Tang himself, but now dressed in the chequered cloak and fur cap of the barbarians of Southern Ilmiora. Rackhir himself had been a Warrior Priest from Moonglum's country beyond the Weeping Waste, but all these men had foresworn their gods to go to live in peaceful Tanelorn where, it was said, even the greatest Lords of the Higher Worlds could not enter