"I have many spies in the city and two of them independently informed me of a plot by local merchants to employ you to kill me."
Elric smiled faintly. "Very well," he agreed. "It was true, but I had no intention of doing what they asked."
Nikorn said: "I might believe you, Elric of Melnibone. But now I do not know what to do with you. I would not turn anyone over to Theleb K'aarna's mercies. May I have your word that you will not make an attempt on my life again?"
"Are we bargaining, Master Nikorn?" Elric said faintly.
"We are."
"Then what do I give my word in return for, sir?"
"Your life and freedom, Lord Elric."
"And my sword?"
Nikorn shrugged regretfully. "I'm sorry-not your sword."
"Then take my life," said Elric brokenly.
"Come now-my bargain's good. Have your life and freedom and give your word that you will not plague me again."
Elric breathed deeply. "Very well."
Nikorn moved away. Theleb K'aarna who had been standing in the shadows put a hand on the merchant's arm. "You're going to release him?"
"Aye," Nikorn said. "He's no threat to either of us now."
Elric was aware of a certain feeling of friendship in Nikorn's attitude towards him. He, too, felt something of the same. Here was a man both courageous and clever. But-Elric fought madness-without Stormbringer, what could he do to fight back?
The two hundred Imrryrian warriors lay hidden in the undergrowth as dusk gave way to night. They watched and wondered. What had happened to Elric? Was he now in the castle as Dyvim Tvar thought? The Dragon Master knew something of the art of divining, as did all members of the royal line of Melnibone. From what small spells he had conjured, it seemed that Elric now lay within the castle walls.
But without Elric to battle Theleb K'aarna's power, how could they take it?
Nikorn's palace was also a fortress, bleak and unlovely. It was surrounded by a deep moat of dark, stagnant water. It stood high above the surrounding forest, built into rather than onto the rock.
Much of it had been carved out of the living stone. It was sprawling and rambling and covered a large area, surrounded by natural but-tresses. The rock was porous in places, and slimy water ran down the walls of the lower parts, spreading through dark moss. It was not a pleasant place, judging from the outside, but it was almost certainly impregnable. Two hundred men could not take it, without the aid of magic.
Some of the Melnibonean warriors were becoming impatient.
There were a few who muttered that Elric had, once again, betrayed them. Dyvim Tvar and Moonglum did not believe this. They had seen the signs of conflict-and heard them-in the forest.
They waited, hoping for a signal from the castle itself.
They watched the castle's great main gate-and their patience at last proved of value. The huge wood and metal gate swung inwards on chains and a white-faced man in the tattered regalia of Melnibone appeared between two desert warriors. They were supporting him, it seemed. They pushed him forward-he staggered a few yards along the causeway of slimy stone which bridged the moat.
Then he fell. He began to crawl wearily, painfully, forward.
Moonglum growled. "What have they done to him? I must help him." But Dyvim Tvar held him back.
"No-it would not do to betray our presence here. Let him reach the forest first, then we can help him."
Even those who had cursed Elric, now felt pity for the albino as, staggering and crawling alternately, he dragged his body slowly towards them. From the battlements of the fortress a tittering laugh was borne down to the ears of those below. They also caught a few words.
"What now, wolf? " said the voice. "What now? "
Moonglum clenched his hands and trembled with rage, hating to see his proud friend so mocked in his weakness. "What's happened to him? What have they done?"
"Patience," Dyvim Tvar said. "We'll find out in a short while."
It was an agony to wait until Elric finally crawled on his knees into the undergrowth.
Moonglum went forward to aid his friend. He put a supporting arm around Elric's shoulders but the albino snarled and shook it off, his whole countenance aflame with terrible hate-made more terrible because it was impotent. Elric could do nothing to destroy that which he hated. Nothing.
Dyvim Tvar said urgently: "Elric, you must tell us what happened. If we're to help you-we must know what happened."
Elric breathed heavily and nodded his agreement. His face partially cleared of the emotion he felt and weakly he stuttered out the story.
"So," Moonglum growled, "our plans come to nothing-and you have lost your strength for ever."
Elric shook his head. "There must be a way," he gasped. "There must!"
"What? How? If you have a plan, Elric-let me hear it now."
Elric swallowed thickly and mumbled. "Very well, Moonglum, you shall hear it. But listen carefully, for I have not the strength to repeat it."
Moonglum was a lover of the night, but only when it was lit by the torches found in cities. He did not like the night when it came to open countryside and he was not fond of it when it surrounded a castle such as Nikorn's, but he pressed on and hoped for the best.
If Elric had been right in his interpretation, then the battle might yet be won and Nikorn's palace taken. But it still meant danger for Moonglum and he was not one deliberately to put himself into danger.
As he viewed the stagnant waters of the moat with distaste he reflected that this was enough to test any friendship to the utmost.
Philosophically, he lowered himself down into the water and began to swim across it.
The moss on the fortress offered a flimsy handhold, but it led to ivy which gave a better grip. Moonglum slowly clambered up the wall.
He hoped that Elric had been right and that Theleb K'aarna would need to rest for a while before he could work more sorcery. That was why Elric had suggested he make haste. Moonglum clambered on, and eventually reached the small unbarred window he sought. A normal-size man could not have entered, but Moonglum's small frame was proving useful.
He wriggled through the gap, shivering with cold, and landed on the hard stone of a narrow staircase which ran both up and down the interior wall of the fortress. Moonglum frowned, and then took the steps leading upwards. Elric had given him a rough idea of how to reach his destination.
Expecting the worst, he went soft-footed up the stone steps. He went towards the chambers of Yishana, Queen of Jharkor.
In an hour, Moonglum was back, shivering with cold and dripping with water. In his hands he carried Stormbringer. He carried the runesword with cautious care-nervous of its sentient evil. It was alive again; alive with black, pulsating life.
"Thank the gods I was right," Elric murmured weakly from where he lay surrounded by two or three Imrryrians, including Dyvim Tvar who was staring at the albino with concern. "I prayed that I was correct in my assumption and Theleb K'aarna was resting after his earlier exertions on my behalf…"
He stirred, and Dyvim Tvar helped him to sit upright. Elric reached out a long white hand-reached like an addict of some terrible drug towards the sword. "Did you give her my message?" he asked as he gratefully seized the pommel.
"Aye," Moonglum said shakily, "and she agreed. You were also right in your other interpretation, Elric. It did not take her long to invei-gle the key out of a weary Theleb K'aarna. The sorcerer was tremendously tired and Nikorn was becoming nervous wondering if an attack of any kind would take place while Theleb K'aarna was incapable of action. She went herself to the cupboard and got me the blade."
"Women can sometimes be useful," said Dyvim Tvar dryly.