As he stumbled towards the fallen tree, he saw that the wood was suddenly dead and the remaining leaves had shrivelled.
«Quickly, » he gasped as the three came up, «Shift this thing. My sword's beneath and without it I'm dead! »
Swiftly they set to work and rolled the peculiarly light tree over so that Elric could weakly grasp the hilt of Stormbringer still imbedded therein.
As he did so he almost screamed, experiencing a sensation of tremendous force. Energy filled him, pulsed through him so that he felt like a god himself.
He laughed as if possessed by a demon and the others looked at him in astonishment.
«Come, my friends, follow me. I can deal with a million such trees now! »
He leapt up the steps as another shoal of leaves came towards him. Ignoring their bites, he went straight for the elder itself and, as if part of the sword, aimed for its centre. Again this tree screamed.
«Dyvim Slorm! » he shouted, drunk on its life-force. «Do an I do-let your sword drink a few such souls and we're invincible! »
«Such power is scarcely palatable, » Rackhir said, brushing dead leaves from his body as Elric withdrew his sword again and ran towards the next. The elders grew thicker here and they bent their branches to reach him, looming over him, the branches like fingers seeking to pluck him apart.
Dyvim Slorm, a trifle less spontaneously, imitated Elric’s method of despatching the tree-creatures and soon he too became filled with the stolen sols of the demons imprisoned within the elders and his wild shout joined Elric's as, like fiendish woodsmen, they attacked again and again, each victory lending them more strength so that Moonglum and Rackhir looked at one another with wonder and a trace of fear to see such a terrible change come over their friends.
But there was no denying that their methods were effective against the elders. Soon they looked back at a waste of fallen, blackened trees spreading down the mountain-side.
All the old unholy fervour of the dead kings of Melnibone was in the faces of the two kinsmen as they sang old battlesongs, their twin blades joining in the harmony to send up a disturbing melody of doom and malevolence!
His lips parted to reveal his white teeth, his red eyes Mazing with dreadful fire, his milk-white hair streaming in the burning wind, Elric flung up his sword to the sky and turned to confront his companions.
«Now, friends, see how the ancient ones of Melnibone conquered man and demon to rule the world for ten thousand
years! »
Moonglum thought that he merited the nick-name of Wolf gained in the west long since. All the chaos-force that was now within him had gained complete control over everything else. He realised that Elric was no longer split in his loyalties, there was no conflict in him now. His ancestors' Mood dominated him and he appeared as they must have ages since when all other races of mankind fled before them, fearing their magnificence, their malice and their evil. Dyvim Slorm seemed equally as possessed and Moonglum sent up a heartfelt prayer to whatever kindly gods remained in the universe that Elric was his ally and not his enemy.
They were close to 'the top now, Elric and his cousin springing ahead with superhuman bounds. The steps terminated at the mouth of a gloomy tunnel and into the darkness rushed the pair, laughing and calling to one another.
Less speedily, Moonglum and Rackhir followed, the Red Archer nocking an arrow to his bow.
Elric peered into the gloom, his head swimming with the power that seemed to burst from every pore of his body. He heard the clatter of armoured feet coming towards him, and, as they approached, he realised that these warriors were but human. Though nearly a hundred and fifty, they did not daunt him. As the first group rushed at him, he blocked blows easily and struck them down, each soul taken making only a fraction's difference to the vitality already in him. Shoulder to shoulder stood the kinsmen, butchering the soldiers like so many children. It was dreadful to the eyes of Moonglum and Rackhir, as they came up to witness the flood of blood which soon made the tunnel slippery. The stench of death in the close confines became too much as Elric and Dyvim Slorm moved past the first of the fallen and carried the attack to the rest.
Rackhir groaned. «Though they are enemies and the servants of those we fight, I cannot bear to witness such slaughter. We are not needed here, friend Moonglum. These are demons waging war, not men! »
«Aye, » sighed Moonglum as they broke out into sunlight again and saw the castle ahead, the remaining warriors reassembling as Elric and Dyvim Slorm advanced menacingly, with malevolent joy, towards them.
The air rang with the sounds of shouting and steel dashing. Rackhir aimed an arrow at one of the warriors and launched it to take the man in the left eye. «I’ll see that a few of them get a cleaner death, » he muttered nocking another arrow to the string.
As Elric and his kinsman disappeared into the enemy ranks, others, sensing perhaps that Rackhir and Moonglum were less of a danger, rushed at the two.
Moonglum found himself engaging three warriors and discovered that his sword seemed extraordinarily light and gave off a sweet, clear tone as it met the warriors' weapons, turning them aside speedily. The sword supplied him with no energy, but it did not blunt as it might have and the heavier swords could not force it down so easily.
Rackhir had expended au his arrows in what had virtually been an act of mercy. He engaged the enemy with his sword and killed two, taking Moonglum's third opponent from behind with an upward thrust into the man's side and through to his heart.
Then they went with little stomach into the main fray and found that already the turf was littered with a great many corpses.
Rackhir cried to Elric: «Stop! Elric - let us finish these. You have no need to take their souls. We can kill them with more natural methods! » But Elric laughed and carried on his work.
As Elric finished another warrior and there were no others in the immediate area, Rackhir seized him by the arm. «Elric-»
Stormbringer turned in Elric's hand, howling its satiated glee, and clove down at Rackhir.
Seeing his fate, Rackhir sobbed and sought to avoid the mow. But it landed in his shoulder blade and sheared down to his breast-bone.
«Elric! » he cried. «Not my soul, too! » And so died the hero Rackhir the Red Archer, famous in the Eastlands, cloven by a treacherous blade. By the friend whose life he had saved, long ago when they had first met near the city of Ameeron.
Then came realisation. Elric tried to tug the sword away but it was too late. Again he had involuntarily slain one close to him while in the power of his runesword.
«Oh, Rackhir! » he cried, kneeling beside the body and taking it in his arms. The stolen energy still pulsed in him, but his great grief no longer gave it the same control over him. Tears streamed down Elric's tortured face and a great, racking groan came from him.
«Once more.» he muttered, «once more. Will it never cease?»
Beyond him, his two remaining companions stood on the opposite sides of the field of the slain. Dyvim Slorm had done with slaying, but only because there were none left to kill. He was gasping, staring around him half in bewilderment. Moonglum stared at Elric with horrified eyes which yet held a gleam of sympathy for his friend, for he knew well Elric's doom and knew that the life of one close to Elric was the price Stormbringer demanded for supplying the albino with his vitality.