These they fought or avoided, depending on the circumstance and, when at last they reached the cliffs of Jharkor and saw the sea which would take them to the Isle of Pan Tang, they knew they had ridden through a land which had become, literally, a hell on earth.
Scarcely stopping, Elric and Moonglum rode their horses over the water towards the evil-heavy island of Pan Tang where Jagreen Lern and his terrible allies prepared to sail with their giant fleet and smash the seapower of the south before conquering the Southlands themselves.
«Elric! » Moonglum called above the whining wind, «Should we not proceed with more caution?»
«Caution? What need of that when the Dukes of Hell must surely know their turncoat servant comes to fight them! »
Moonglum pursed his long lips, disturbed, for Elric was in a wild, maddened mood. He got little comfort, also, from the knowledge that Sepiriz had charmed his shortsword and his sabre both, with one of the few white spells he had at his command.
Now the bleak cliffs of Pan Tang were in sight, spray-lashed and ominous, the sea moaning about them as if in some special torment which Chaos could inflict on nature itself.
And also around the island a peculiar darkness hovered, shifting and changing.
They entered the darkness as the Nihrain steeds pounded up the steep, rocky beach of Pan Tang, a place that had always been ruled by its black priesthood, a grim theocracy that had sought to emulate the legendary sorcerer-kings of the Bright Empire of Melnibone. But Elric, last of those kings, and landless now with few subjects, knew that the dark arts had been natural and lawful to his ancestors, whereas these human-beings had perverted themselves to worship an unholy hierarchy they barely understood.
Sepiriz had given them their route and they galloped across the turbulent land towards the capital-Hwamgaarl, City of Screaming Statues.
Pan Tang was an island of green, shiny, obsidian rock that gave off bizarre reflections; rock that seemed alive.
Soon they could see the looming walls of Hwamgaarl in the distance. As they drew nearer, an army of black-cowered swordsmen, chanting a particularly horrible litany, seemed to rise from the ground ahead.
Elric had no time to spare for these, recognizable as a detachment of Jagreen Lern's warrior-priests.
«Up, steed! » he cried and the Nihrain horse leapt skywards, passing over the disconcerted priests with a fantastic bound. Moonglum did likewise, his laughter mocking them u he and his friend thundered on towards Hwamgaarll
Their way was dear for some distance, since Jagreen Lern had evidently expected the detachment to hold the pair at least for some time.
But when the City of Screaming Statues was barely a mile away, the ground began to grumble and gaping cracks split its surface. This did not overly disturb them, for the Nihrain horses had no use for earthly terrain in any case.
The sky above seemed to heave and shake itself, the darkness became flushed with streaks of the ebony, and from the fissures in the ground, monstrous shapes sprang up!
Vulture-headed lions, fifteen feet high, prowled in hungry anticipation towards them, their feathered manes rustling as they approached.
To Moonglum's frightened astonishment, Elric laughed and the Eastlander knew his friend had gone mad.
But Elric was familiar with this ghoulish pack since his own ancestors had formed it for their own purposes a dozen centuries before.
Evidently, Jagreen Lern had discovered the pack nuking on the borders between Chaos and Earth and had utilised it without being aware of how it had been created.
Old words formed on Elric's pale lips and he spoke affectionately to the towering bird-beasts.
They ceased their progress toward him and glanced uncertainly around them, their loyalties evidently divided.
Feathered tails lashed, claw worked in and out of pads, scraping great gashes in the rock.
And, taking advantage of this, Elric and Moonglum walked their horses through them and emerged just as a droning but angry voice rapped from the heavens, ordering, in the High Tongue of Melnibone; «Destroy them! ’
One lion-vulture bounded uncertainly towards them. Another followed it and another, till the whole pack raced to catch them.
«Faster! » Elric whispered to the Nihrain horse, but the steed could hardly keep the distance separating them.
There was nothing for it but to turn. Deep in the recesses of his memory he recalled there was a certain spell he had teamed as a child. Au the old spells of Melnibone had been passed on to him by his father with the warning that. in these times, many of them were virtually useless. But there had been one-the spell for calling the vulture-headed lions and another spell...
Now he remembered it! The spell for sending them back to the domain of Chaos. Would it work..?
He adjusted his mind, sought the words he needed as the beasts plunged on towards him.
The creatures paused and, desperately, Elric repeated the spell, afraid that he had made a small mistake, either within his mind or in the words.
Moonglum, who had drawn his horse up beside Elric, did not dare speak his fears, for he knew the albino sorcerer must not be hindered while spell-making. He watched in trepidation as the leading beast gave voice to a cawing roar.
But Elric heard the sound with relief, for it meant the beasts had understood his threat and were still bound to obey the spell.
Slowly, half-reluctantly, they crawled down into the fissures and vanished.
Sweating, Elric said triumphantly: «Luck is with us so far! » Jagreen Lern either under-estimated my powers or else this is all he could summon with his own! More proof, perhaps, that Chaos uses him and not the other way about! »
«Tempt not such luck by speaking of it, » Moonglum said warningly. «From what you'd told me, these are puny things compared with that which we must soon face! «
Elric shot an angry look at his friend and nodded briefly. He did not like to think of his coming task.
Now they neared the huge walls of Hwamgaarl. At intervals along the walls, which slanted outwards at an angle to encumber potential besiegers, they saw the screaming statues-once men and women whom Jagreen Lern and his forefathers had turned to rock but allowed them to retain their life and ability to speak. They spoke little, but screamed much, their ghastly shouts rolling over the disgusting city like the tormented voices of the damned-and damned they were. These sobbing waves of sound were horrifying even to Elric's ears, familiar with such sounds as they were.
Then another noise blended with them as the mighty portcullis of Hwamgaarl's main gate squealed upwards and from it poured a host of well-aimed men.
«Evidently. Jagreen Lern's powers of sorcery have been exhausted for the meantime and the Dukes of Hell disdain to join him in a fight against a pair of mere mortals! » Elric said, reaching with his right band for the hilt of his black runesword hanging at his left hip.
Moonglum was beyond speech. Wordlessly he drew both his own charmed blades, knowing he must fight and vanquish his own fear before he could encounter the men who ran at him.
With a wild howl that drowned out the screams from the statues, Stormbringer climbed from the scabbard and stood in Eric's hand, waiting in anticipation for the new souls it might drink, for the life-stuff which it could pass on to Elric and fill him with dark and stolen vitality.