The Queen of Swords by Michael Moorcock Read Free Book Online Page B

us to Llarak and learn how to defend your lovely land.”
    “How came this dispute to begin?” Jhary asked, taking a different tack. “Why are you trying to arouse these people against the duke, Sir Verenak?”
    Verenak glowered. “Because the duke has gone mad. Not a month since he banished all the priests of Urleh from his city but allowed the priests of that milk-and-water godling Ilah to remain. Thus he put himself upon the side of Law and ceased to tolerate the adherents of Chaos. He will therefore bring Urleh’s vengeance—aye, even Arioch’s vengeance—upon himself. And that is why I seek to warn these poor, simple people and get them to take action.”
    “The people seem considerably more intelligent than you, my friend,” laughed Jhary.
    Verenak raised his arms to the skies. “Oh, Urleh, destroy this grinning fool!”
    He lost his footing on the water trough’s sides. His arms began to wave. He fell backwards into the water. The villagers laughed. The one who had spoken came up to Corum. “Worry not, my friend—we’ll do no marching here. We’ve our crops to harvest, for one thing.”
    “You’ll harvest no crops if the Mabden of the east come this way,” Corum warned him. “But I’ll debate no longer with you save to warn you that we Vadhagh could not believe in the bloodlust of those Mabden and we ignored the warnings. That is why I saw my father and my mother and my sisters all slain. That is why I am the last of my race.”
    The man drew his hand over his brow and scratched his head. “I will think on what you have said, friend Vadhagh.”
    “And what of him?” Corum pointed at Verenak who was hauling himself from the trough.
    “He’ll bother us no more. He has many villages to visit with his gloomy news. I doubt if many will even take the trouble to listen to him as we have done.”
    Corum nodded. “Very well, but please remember that these minor disputes, these little arguments, these apparently meaningless decisions like that of the duke in banishing the priests of Urleh, they are all indications that a greater struggle is to come between Law and Chaos. Verenak senses it just as much as does the duke. Verenak seeks to gather strength for Chaos while the duke puts himself in the Camp of Law. Neither knows that a threat is coming, but both have sensed something. And I bring news to Lywm-an-Esh that a struggle is about to begin. Take heed of that warning, my friend. Think of what I have said, no matter how you choose to act upon it…”
    The villager sucked at a tooth. “I will think on it,” he agreed at last.
    The rest of the villagers were going about their business. Verenak was making for his tethered horse, casting many a glowering glance back at Corum.
    “Would you and your company take the hospitality of our village?” the man asked Corum.
    Corum shook his head. “I thank you, but what I have seen and heard here confirms that we must make speed to Llarak-an-Fol and release our news. Farewell!”
    “Farewell, friend.” The villager still looked thoughtful.
    As they rode back up the hill Jhary was laughing. “As good a comic scene as any I’ve written for the stage in my time,” he said.
    “Yet it has tragedy beneath it,” Corum told him.
    “As does all good comedy.”
    * * *
    And now the company galloped where before it had trotted, riding across the Duchy of Bedwilral-nan-Rywm as if the warriors of Lyr-a-Brode were already pursuing them.
    And there was tension in the air. In every village they passed through there were apparently meaningless disputes between neighbours as one side supported Urleh and the other Ilah, but both refused to listen to what Corum told them—that the instruments of Chaos would soon be upon their land and they would cease to exist unless they prepared to resist King Lyr and his armies.
    And when they came at last to Llarak-an-Fol, they found that there was fighting in the streets.
    Very few of the cities of Lywm-an-Esh were walled and Llarak