Vanishing Tower - Michael Moorcock [41]
Make this thy vengeance day.
The spell was far less complex than many he had used in the past. Yet it took as much from him as any spell ever had.
"Grahluk, I summon thee! Grahluk, here you may take vengeance on your foes!"
Many cycles since, the Elenoin were said to have driven the Grahluk from their lands in the Eighth Plane and the Grahluk sought revenge now at every opportunity.
All around Elric the air shivered and turned brown, then green, then black.
"Grahluk! Come destroy the Elenoin!" Elric's voice was weakening. "Grahluk—the gateway is made!"
And now the ground trembled and strange winds blew at the blood-soaked hair of the Elenoin and the air became thick and purple and Elric fell to his knees, still croaking the invocation.
"Grahluk ..."
A shuffling sound. A grunting noise. The stink of something unnameable.
The Grahluk had come. They were apelike creatures as bestial as the Elenoin. They carried nets and ropes and shields. Once, it was said, both Grahluk and Elenoin had had intelligence—had been part of the same species which had devolved and divided.
They moved out of the purple mist in their scores and they stood looking at Elric who was still on his knees. Elric pointed at where the remaining warriors of Tanelorn were still fighting the Elenoin.
"There ..."
The Grahluk snorted with battle-greed and shambled towards the Elenoin.
The Elenoin saw them and their shrill wailing voices changed in quality as they retreated a short distance up the hill.
Elric forced himself to his feet and gasped: "Rackhir! Withdraw your warriors. The Grahluk will do their work now. . . ."
"You helped us after all!" Rackhir yelled, turning his horse. His clothes were all in tatters and there were a dozen wounds on his body.
They watched as the Grahluk's nets and nooses flashed towards the screaming Elenoin whose sword blows were stopped by the Grahluk shields. They watched as the Elenoin were crushed and throttled and parts of their entrails devoured by the grunting, apelike demons.
And when the last of the Elenoin was dead, the Grahluk picked up the fallen swords and reversed them and fell upon them.
Rackhir said: "They are killing themselves. Why?"
"They live only to destroy the Elenoin. Once that is done, they have nothing left for which to exist." Elric swayed and Rackhir and Moonglum caught him.
"See!" Moonglum laughed. "The beggars are running!"
"Theleb K'aarna," Elric muttered. "We must get Theleb K'aarna. . . ."
"Doubtless he has gone back with Urish to Nadsokor," Moonglum said.
"I must—I must retrieve the Ring of Kings."
"Plainly you can work your sorcery without it," Rackhir said.
"Can I?" Elric looked up and showed his face to Rackhir who lowered his eyes and nodded.
"We will help you get back your ring," Rackhir said quietly. "There'll be no more trouble from the beggars. We'll ride with you to Nadsokor."
"I had hoped you would." Elric climbed with difficulty into the saddle of a surviving horse and jerked at its reins, turning it towards the City of Beggars. "Perhaps your arrows will slay what my sword cannot. . . ."
"I do not understand you," Rackhir said.
Moonglum was mounting now. "We'll tell you on the way."
Chapter Six
The Jesting Demon
Through the filth of Nadsokor now rode the warriors of Tanelorn.
Elric, Moonglum and Rackhir were at the head of the company but there was no ostentatious triumph in their demeanour. The riders looked neither to left nor to right and the beggars offered no threat now, not daring to attack but instead cowering into the shadows.
A potion of Rackhir's had helped Elric recover some of his strength and he no longer leaned over his horse's neck but sat upright as they crossed the forum, came to the palace of the Beggar King.
Elric did not pause. He rode his horse up the steps and into the gloomy hall.
"Theleb K'aarna!" Elric shouted.
His voice boomed through the hall, but Theleb K'aarna did not reply.
The braziers of garbage guttered in the wind from the opened door and threw a little more light on the dais at the end.
"Theleb