The Queen of Swords by Michael Moorcock Read Free Book Online

war.
    Behind them came Rhalina’s men-at-arms and their women. The soldiers wore the uniform of Allomglyl, with helms, shields and breastplates made from the gigantic crustaceans that had once populated the sea.
    It was a handsome company and it blended well with the landscape of the Duchy of Bedwilral-nan-Rywm, most easterly county in the land of Lywm-an-Esh.
    They had left Castle Moidel behind them after a vain attempt had been made to awaken the huge bats that slept in the caves below the castle (“Chaos creatures,” Jhary-a-Conel had murmured, “they’ll be hard to press into our service now.”) and Lord Arkyn, doubtless concerned with more pressing matters, had failed to answer their call to him. It had become plain that Castle Moidel could no longer be defended, when the winged cat had brought back its news, and they had decided to ride all together to the capital of Lywm-an-Esh which was called Halwyg-nan-Vake and warn the king of the coming of the barbarians from the east and the south.
    As he looked around him Corum was impressed by the beauty of the landscape and thought he could understand how such a lovely land had produced in a Mabden race so many characteristics he would normally call Vadhagh.
    It was not cowardice which had made them abandon Moidel’s Mount but it was caution and the knowledge that Glandyth would waste many days—perhaps weeks—by planning and launching an attack on the castle they no longer occupied.
    The main city of the Duchy was called Llarak-an-Fol and it would be a good two days’ ride before they reached it. Here they hoped to get fresh horses and some information concerning the present state of the country’s defenses. The duke himself lived in Llarak and had known Rhalina as a girl. She was certain he would help them and that he would believe the tale they brought. Halwyg-nan-Vake lay another week’s ride, at least, beyond Llarak.
    Corum, although he had suggested much of their present plan, could not rid from his head some sense that he was retreating from the object of his hatred and part of him wanted to turn back to Moidel and wait for Glandyth’s coming. He fought the impulse but the conflict in him often made him gloomy and a poor companion.
    The others were more cheerful, delighting in the fact that they were able to help Lywm-an-Esh prepare for an attack which King Lyr-a-Brode thought would be unexpected. With superior weapons, there was every chance of the invasion being completely thwarted.
    Only Jhary-a-Conel sometimes had the task of reminding Rhalina and Beldan of the fact that the Dog and the Bear had promised aid to King Lyr, though none knew what form that aid would take and how powerful it would be.
    They camped that night on the Plain of Blossoms and by the next morning had reached rolling downlands. Beyond the downs, sheltered by them, lay Llarak-an-Fol.
    Then, in the afternoon, they came to a pleasant village built on both sides of a pretty stream and they saw that the village square was full of people who stood around a water trough upon which was balanced a man in dark robes who addressed them.
    They reined in on the slope of the hill and watched from a distance, unable to make anything of the babble they heard.
    Jhary-a-Conel frowned. “They seem rather agitated. Do you think we are late with our news?”
    Corum fingered his eye-patch and considered the scene. “Doubtless nothing more than some local village affair, Jhary. Let’s you and I ride down there and ask them.”
    Jhary nodded and, after a word with the others, they rode rapidly towards the village.
    Now the dark-robed man had seen them and their company and he was pointing and shouting. The villagers were plainly disturbed.
    As they entered the village street and drew close to the crowd, the dark-robed man, whose face was full of madness, screamed at them. “Who are you? On which side do you fight? Do you come to destroy us? We have nothing for your army.”
    “Hardly an army,”