The Vanishing Tower Page 5

  And Elric laughed.

  And they shuddered.

  And their weapons trembled in their hands.

  "So you are the mighty Kelmain," Elric sneered. "No wonder you needed sorcery to aid you if you are so cowardly. Have you not heard, beyond World's Edge, of Elric Kinslayer?"

  But the Kelmain plainly did not understand his speech, which was strange enough in itself, for he had spoken in the Common Tongue, known to all men.

  These people had golden skins and eye-sockets that were almost square. Their faces, in all, seemed crudely carved from rock, all sharp angles and planes, and their armour was not rounded, but angular.

  Elric bared his teeth in a smile and the Kelmain drew closer together.

  Then he screamed with dreadful laughter and Moon­glum stepped back and did not look at what took place.

  The runesword swung. Heads and limbs were chopped away. Blood gouted. Souls were taken. The Kelmain's dead faces bore expressions showing that before the life was drawn from them they had known the truth of their appalling fate.

  And Stormbringer drank again, for Stormbringer was a thirsty hellsword.

  And Elric felt his deficient veins swell with even more energy than that which he had taken earlier from Theleb K'aarna's demon.

  The hall shook with Elric's insane mirth and he strode over the piled corpses and he went through the open gateway to where the great host waited.

  And he shouted a name:

  "Theleb K'aarna, Theleb K'aarna!"

  Moonglum ran after him, calling for him to stop, but Elric did not heed him. Elric strode on through the snow, his sword dripping a red trail behind him.

  Under a cold sun, the Kelmain were riding for the castle called Kaneloon and Elric went to meet them.

  At their head, on slender horses, rode the dark-faced sorcerer of Pan Tang, dressed in flowing robes, and beside him was the Prince of the Kelmain Host, Prince Umbda, in proud armour, bizarre plumes nodding on his helm, a triumphant smile on his strange, angular features.

  Behind, the host dragged oddly-fashioned wargear which, for all its oddness, looked powerful—mightier than anything Lormyr could rally when the huge army fell upon her.

  As the lone figure appeared and began to walk away from the walls of Castle Kaneloon Theleb K'aarna raised his hand and stopped the host's advance, reining in his own horse and laughing.

  "Why, it is the jackal of Melnibone, by all the Gods of Chaos! He acknowledges his master at last and comes to deliver himself up to me!"

  Elric came closer and Theleb K'aarna laughed on. "Here, Elric—kneel before me!"

  Elric did not pause, seemed not to hear the Pan Tangian's words.

  Prince Umbda's eyes were troubled and he said something in a strange tongue. Theleb K'aarna sniffed and replied in the same language.

  And still the albino marched through the snow towards the huge host.

  "By Chardros, Elric, stop!" cried Theleb K'aarna, his horse shifting nervously beneath him. "If you have come to bargain you are a fool. Kaneloon and her mistress must fall before Lormyr is ours—and Lormyr shall be ours, there's no doubting that!"

  Then Eric did stop and he brought up his eyes to burn into those of the sorcerer and there was a still, cold smile upon his pale lips.

  Theleb K'aarna tried to meet Elric's gaze but could not. His voice trembled when he next spoke.

  "You cannot defeat the whole Kelmain Host!"

  "I have no wish to, conjurer. Your life is all I de­sire."

  The sorcerer's face twitched. "Well, you shall not have it! Hai, men of the Kelmain, take him!"

  He wheeled his horse and rode into the protective ranks of his warriors, calling out his orders in their own tongue.

  From the castle another figure burst, rushing to join Elric.

  It was Moonglum of Elwher, a sword in either hand.

  Elric half-turned.

  "Elric! We'll die together!"

  "Stay back, Moonglum!"

  Moonglum hesitated.

  "Stay back, if you love me!"

  Moonglum reluctantly retreated to the castle.

  The Kelmain horsemen swept in, broad-bladed straight swords raised, instantly surrounding the albino.

  They threatened him, hoping that he would lay down his sword and let himself be captured. But Elric smiled.

  Stormbringer began to sing. Elric grasped the sword in both hands, bent his elbows then suddenly held the blade straight out before him.

  He began to whirl like a Tarkeshite dancer, round and round, and it was as if the sword dragged him faster and faster while it gouged and gashed and decapitated the Kelmain horsemen.

  For a moment they fell back, leaving their dead com­rades heaped about the albino, but Prince Umbda, after a hurried conference with Theleb K'aarna, urged them upon Elric again.

  And Elric swung his blade once more, but not so many of the Kelmain perished this time.

  Armoured body fell against armoured body, blood mingled with brother's blood, horses dragged corpses away with them across the snow and Elric did not fall, yet something was happening to him.

  Then it dawned upon his berserker brain that, for some reason, his blade was sated. The energy still pulsed in its metal, but it transferred nothing more to its mas­ter. And his own stolen energy was beginning to wane.

  "Damn you, Stormbringer! Give me your power!"

  Swords rained down upon him as he fought and slew and parried and thrust.

  "More power!"

  He was still stronger than normal and much stronger than any ordinary mortal, but some of the wild anger was leaving him and he felt almost puzzled as more Kelmain came at him.

  He was beginning to waken from the blood-dream.

  He shook his head and drew deep breaths. His back was aching.

  "Give me their strength, Black Sword!"

  He struck at legs and arms and chests and faces and he was covered from head to foot in the blood of his attackers.

  But the dead now hampered him worse than the liv­ing, for their corpses were everywhere and he almost lost his footing more than once.

  "What ails you, runesword? Do you refuse to help me? Will you not fight these things because, like you, they are of Chaos?"

  No, it could not be that. All that had happened was that the sword desired no more vitality and therefore gave Elric none.

  He fought on for another hour before his grip on the sword weakened and a rider, half-mad with terror, struck a blow at his head, failed to split it but stunned him so that he fell upon the bodies of the slain, tried to rise, then was struck again and lost consciousness.

  Chapter Eight

  A Great Host Screaming

  "It was more than I hoped," murmured Theleb K'aarna in satisfaction, "but we have taken him alive!"

  Elric opened his eyes and looked with hatred on the sorcerer who was stroking his black forked beard as if to comfort himself.

  Elric could barely remember the events which had brought him here and placed him in the sorcerer's power. He remembered much blood, much laughter, much dying, but it was all fading, like the memory of a dream.

  "Well, renegade, your foolishness was unbelievable. I thought you must have an army behind you. But doubtless it was your fear which unbalanced your poor brain. Still, I'll not speculate upon the cause of my own good fortune. There's many a bargain I can strike with the denizens of other planes, were I to offer them your soul. And your body I will keep for myself—to show Queen Yishana what I did to her lover before he died. ..."

  Elric laughed shortly and looked about him, ignoring Theleb K'aarna.

  The Kelmain were awaiting orders. They had still not marched on Kaneloon. The sun was low in the sky. He saw the pile of corpses behind him. He saw the hatred and fear on the faces of the golden-skinned Host and he smiled again.

  "I do not love Yishana," he said distantly, as if scarcely aware of Theleb K'aarna's presence. "It is your jealous heart that makes you think so. I left Yishana's side to find you. It is never
love that moves Elric of Melnibone, sorcerer, but always hatred."

  "I do not believe you," Theleb K'aarna tittered. "When the whole South falls to me and my comrades, then will I court Yishana and offer to make her Queen of all the West as well as all the South. Our forces united, we shall dominate the Earth!"

  "You Pan Tangians were ever an insecure breed, for­ever planning conquest for its own sake, forever seeking to destroy the equilibrium of the Young Kingdoms."

  "One day," sneered Theleb K'aarna, "Pan Tang will have an empire that will make the Bright Empire seem a mere flickering ember in the fire of history. But it is not for the glory of Pan Tang that I do this. . . ."

  "It is for Yishana? By the gods, sorcerer, then I am glad I'm motivated by hatred and not by love, for I do not half the damage, it seems, done by those in love...."

  "I will lay the south at Yishana's feet and she may use it as she pleases!"

  "I am bored by this. What do you intend to do with me?"

  "First I will hurt your body. I will hurt it delicately to begin with, building up the pain, until I have you in the proper frame of mind. Then I will consort with the Lords of the Higher Planes to find which will give me most for your soul."

  "And what of Kaneloon?"

  "The Kelmain will deal with Kaneloon. One knife is all that's needed now to slit Myshella's throat as she sleeps."

  "She is protected."

  Theleb K'aarna's brow darkened. Then it cleared and he laughed again.

  "Aye, but the gate will fall soon enough and your little redhaired friend will perish as Myshella perishes."

  He ran his fingers through his oiled ringlets.

  "I am allowing, at Prince Umbda's request, the Kel­main to rest a while before storming the castle. But Kaneloon will be burning by nightfall."

  Elric looked towards the castle across the trampled snow. Plainly his runes had failed to counter Theleb K'aarna's spell.

  "I would. . . ." He began to speak when he paused.

  He had seen a flash of gold and silver among the battlements and a thought without shape had entered his head and made him hesitate.

  "What?" Theleb K'aarna asked him harshly.

  "Nothing. I merely wondered where my sword was."

  The sorcerer shrugged. "Nowhere you can reach it, reaver. We left it where you dropped it. The stinking hellblade is no use to us. And none to you, now. . . ."

  Elric wondered what would happen if he made a direct appeal to the sword. He could not get to it him­self, for Theleb K'aarna had bound him tightly with ropes of silk, but he might call for it. ...

  He lifted himself to his feet.

  "Would you seek to run away, White Wolf?" The­leb K'aarna watched him nervously.

  Elric smiled again. "I wished for a better view of the coming conquest of Kaneloon. Just that."

  The sorcerer drew a curved knife.

  Elric swayed, his eyes half-closed, and he began to murmur a name beneath his breath.

  Theleb K'aarna leapt forward and his arm encircled Elric's head while the knife pricked into the albino's throat. "Be silent, jackal!"

  But Elric knew that he had no other means of helping himself and, for all it was a desperate scheme, he mur­mured the words once more, praying that Theleb K'aarna's lust for a slow revenge would make the sorcerer hesitate before killing him.

  Theleb K'aarna cursed, trying to prise Elric's mouth open.

  "The first thing I'll do is cut out that damned tongue of yours!"

  Elric bit the hand and tasted the sorcerer's blood. He spat it out.

  Theleb K'aarna screamed. "By Chardros, if I did not wish to see you die over the months, I would . . ."

  And then a sound came from the Kelmain.

  It was a moan of surprise and it issued from every throat.

  Theleb K'aarna turned and the breath hissed from between his clenched teeth.

  Through the murky dusk a black shape moved. It was the sword, Stormbringer.

  Elric had called it.

  Now he cried aloud:

  "Stormbringer! Stormbringer! To me!"

  Theleb K'aarna flung Elric in the path of the sword and rushed into the security of the gathered ranks of Kelmain warriors.

  "Stormbringer!"

  The black sword hovered in the air near Elric.

  Another shout went up from the Kelmain. A shape had left the battlements of Castle Kaneloon.

  Theleb K'aarna shouted in hysteria. "Prince Umbda! Prepare your men for the attack! I sense danger to us!"

  Umbda could not understand the sorcerer's words and Theleb K'aarna was forced to translate them.

  "Do not let the sword reach him!" cried the sorcerer. Once more he shouted in the language of the Kelmain and several warriors ran forward to grasp the runesword before it could reach its albino master.

  But the sword struck rapidly and the Kelmain died and none dared approach it after that.

  Slowly Stormbringer moved towards Elric.

  "Ah, Elric," cried Theleb K'aarna, "if you escape me this day, I swear that I shall find you."

  "And if you escape me," Elric shouted back, "I will find you, Theleb K'aarna. Be sure of that."

  The shape that had left Castle Kaneloon had feathers of silver and gold. It flew high above the Host and hovered for a moment before moving to the outer edges of the gathering. Elric could not see it clearly, but he knew what it was. That was why he had sum­moned the sword, for he had an idea that Moonglum rode the giant bird of metal and that the Elwherian would try to rescue him.

  "Do not let it land! It comes to save the albino!" screamed Theleb K'aarna.

  But the Kelmain Host did not understand him. Un­der Prince Umbda's commands they were preparing themselves for the attack upon the castle.

  Theleb K'aarna repeated his orders in their own tongue, but it was plain they were beginning not to trust him and could not see the need to bother them­selves with one man and a strange bird of metal. It could not stop their engines of war. Neither could the man.

  "Stormbringer," whispered Elric as the sword sliced through his bonds and gently settled in his hand. Elric was free, but the Kelmain, though not placing the same importance upon him as did Theleb K'aarna, showed that they were not prepared to let him escape now that the blade was in his grasp and not moving of its own volition.

  Prince Umbda shouted something.

  A huge mass of warriors rushed at Elric at once and he made no effort to take the attack to them this time for he was interested in fighting a defensive strategy until Moonglum could descend on the bird and help him.

  But the bird was even further away. It appeared to be circling the outer perimeters of the host and showed no interest in his plight at all.

  Had he been deceived?

  He parried a dozen thrusts, letting the Kelmain war­riors crowd in upon each other and thus hamper them­selves. The bird of gold and silver was almost out of sight now.

  And Theleb K'aarna—where was he?

  Elric tried to find him, but the sorcerer was doubt­less somewhere in the centre of the Kelmain ranks by now.

  Elric killed a golden-skinned warrior, slitting his throat with the point of the runesword. More strength began to flow into him again. He killed another Kel­main with an overarm movement which split the man's shoulder. But nothing could be gained from this fight if Moonglum was not coming on the bird of silver and gold.

  The bird seemed to change course and come back towards Kaneloon. Was it merely waiting for instruc­tions from its sleeping mistress? Or was it refusing to obey Moonglum's commands?

  Elric backed through the muddy, bloody snow so that the pile of corpses now lay behind him. He fought on, but with very little hope.

  The bird went past, far to his right.

  Elric thought ironically that he had completely mis­taken the significance of the bird's leaving the castle battlements and by mistiming his decision had merely brought his death closer—perhaps Myshella's and Moonglum's deaths closer, too.

  Kanelo
on was doomed. Myshella was doomed. Lormyr and perhaps the whole of the Young King­doms were doomed.

  And he was doomed.

  It was then that a shadow passed across the battling men and the Kelmain screamed and fell back as a great din rent the air.

  Elric looked up in relief, hearing the sound of the metal bird's clashing wings. He looked for Moonglum in the saddle and saw instead the tense face of Myshella herself, her hair blowing around her face as it was disturbed by the beating wings.

  "Quickly, Lord Elric, before they close in again."

  Elric sheathed the runesword and leapt towards the saddle, swinging himself behind the Sorceress of Kane­loon. Then they rose into the air again, while arrows hurtled around their heads and bounced off the bird's metal feathers.

  "One more circuit of the Host and then we return to the castle," she said. "Your rune and the Nanorion worked to defeat Theleb K'aarna's enchantment, but they took longer than either of us would have liked. See, already Prince Umbda is ordering his men to mount and ride to Castle Kaneloon. And Kaneloon has only Moonglum to defend her now."

  "Why this circuit of Umbda's army?"

  "You will see. At least, I hope you will see, my lord."

  She began to sing a song. It was a strange, disturbing chant in a language not dissimilar to the Melnibonean High Speech, yet different enough for Elric to under­stand only a few words, for it was oddly accented.

  Around the camp they flew. Elric saw the Kelmain form their ranks into battle order. Doubtless Umbda and Theleb K'aarna had by now decided on the best mode of attack.

  Then back to the castle beat the great bird, settling on the battlements and allowing Elric and Myshella to dismount. Moonglum, his features taut, came running to meet them.

  They went to look at the Kelmain.

  And they saw that the Kelmain were on the move.

  "What did you do to—" began Elric, but Myshella raised her hand.

  "Perhaps I did nothing. Perhaps the sorcery will not work."

  "What was it you . . . ?"

  "I scattered the contents of the purse you brought. I scattered it around their whole army. Watch. . . ."