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 fortime. 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 nines 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.

Kaneloon 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. . . .”

“And if the spell has not worked “ Moonglum murmured. He paused, straining his eyes through the gloom. “What is that?”

Myshella’s satisfied tone was almost ghoulish as she said: “It is the Noose of Flesh.”

Something was growing out of the snow. Something pink that quivered. Something huge. A great mass that arose on all sides of the Kelmain and made their horses rear up and snort.

And it made the Kelmain shriek.

The stuff was like flesh and it had grown so high that the whole Kelmain Host was obscured from sight. There were noises as they tried to train their battleengines upon the stuff and blast their way through.

There were shouts. But not a single horseman broke out of the Noose of Flesh.

Then the substance began to fold in over the Kelmain and Elric heard a sound such as none he had heard before.

It was a voice.

A voice of a hundred thousand men all facing an identical terror, all dying an identical death.

It was a moan of desperation, of hopelessness, of fear.

But it was a moan so loud that it shook the walls of Castle Kaneloon.

“It is no death for a warrior,” murmured Moonglum, turning away.

“But it was the only weapon we had,” said Myshella. “I have possessed it for a good many years but never before did I feel the need to use it.”

“Of them all, only Theleb K’aarna deserved that death,” said Elric.

Night fell and the Noose of Flesh tightened around the Kelmain Host, crushing all but a few horses which had run free as the sorcery began to work.

It crushed Prince Umbda, who spoke no language known in the Young Kingdoms, who spoke no language known to the ancients, who had come to conquer from beyond the World’s Edge.

It crushed Theleb K’aarna, who had sought, for the sake of his love for a wanton Queen, to conquer the world with the aid of Chaos.

It crushed all the warriors of that near-human race, the Kelmain. And it crushed all who could have told the watchers what the Kelmain had been or from where they had originated.

Then it absorbed them. Then it flickered and dissolved and was dust again.

No piece of flesh man’s nor beast’s remained. But over the snow was scattered clothing, arms, armour, siege engines, riding accoutrements, coins, beltbuckles, for as far as the eye could see.

Myshella nodded to herself. “That was the Noose of

Flesh,” she said. “I thank you for bringing it to me, Elric. I thank you, also, for finding the stone which revived me. I thank you for saving Lormyr.”

“Aye,” said Elric. “Thank me.” There was a weariness on him now. He turned away, shivering.

Snow had begun to fall again.

“Thank me for nothing, Lady Myshella. What I did was to satisfy my own dark urges, to sate my thirst for vengeance. I have destroyed Theleb K’aarna. The rest was incidental. I care nought for Lormyr, the Young Kingdoms, or any of your causes. ...”

Moonglum saw that Myshella had a sceptical look in her eyes and she smiled slightly.

Elric entered the castle and began to descend the steps to the hall.

“Wait,” Myshella said. “This castle is magical. It reflects the desires of any who enter it should I wish it.”

Elric rubbed at his eyes. “Then plainly we have no desires. Mine are satisfied now that Theleb K’aarna is destroyed. I would leave this place now, my lady.”

“You have none?” said she.

He looked at her directly. He frowned. “Regret breeds weakness. Regret achieves nothing. Regret is like a disease which attacks the internal organs and at last destroys. . . .”

“And you have no desires?”

He hesitated. “I understand you. Your own appearance, I’ll admit. . . .” He shrugged. “But are you ?”

She spread her hands. “Do not ask too many questions of me.” She made another gesture. “Now. See. This castle becomes what you most desire. And in it, the things you most desire!”

And Elric looked about him, his eyes widening, and he began to scream.

He fell to his knees in terror. He turned pleadingly to her.

“No, Myshella! No. I do not desire this!”

Hastily she made yet another sign.

Moonglum helped his friend to his feet. “What was it? What did you see?”

Elric straightened his back and rested his hand on his sword and said grimly and quietly to Myshella:

“Lady, I would kill you for that if I did not understand you sought only to please me.”

He studied the ground for a moment before continuing:

“Know this. Elric cannot have what he desires most. What he desires does not exist. What he desires is dead. All Elric has is sorrow, guilt, malice, hatred. This is all he deserves and all he will ever desire.”

She put her hands to her own face and walked back to the room where he had first seen her. Elric followed.

Moonglum started after them but then he stopped and remained where he stood.

He watched them enter the room and saw the door close.

He walked back on to the battlements and stared into the darkness. He saw wings of silver and gold flashing in the moonlight and they became smaller and smaller until they had vanished.

He sighed. It was cold.

He went back into the castle and settled himself with his back against a pillar, preparing to sleep.

But a little while later he heard laughter come from the room in the highest tower.

And the laughter sent him running through the passages, through the great hall where the fire had died, out of the door, into the night to seek the stables where he could feel more secure.

But he could not sleep that night, for the distant laughter still pursued him.

And the laughter continued until morning.