Elric picked up her inert body and passed it gently to Moonglum. "Take her upstairs with the others," he said brusquely.
The barbarians had begun to fire part of the town, their slaying all but done. Now they looted. Elric stepped out of the doorway.
There was precious little for them to loot but, still hungry for violence, they spent their energy on smashing inanimate things and setting fire to the broken, pillaged dwellings.
Stormbringer dangled loosely in Elric's hand as he looked at the blazing town. His face was a mask of shadow and frisking light as the fire threw up still longer tongues of flame to the misty sky.
Around him, barbarians squabbled over the pitiful booty; and occasionally a woman's scream cut above the other sounds, intermingled with rough shouts and the clash of metal.
Then he heard voices which were pitched differently to those in the immediate vicinity. The accents of the reavers mingled with a new tone-a whining, pleading tone. A group led by Terarn Gashtek came into view through the smoke.
Terarn Gashtek held something bloody in his hand-a human hand, severed at the wrist-and behind him swaggered several of his captains holding a naked old man between them. Blood ran over his body and gushed from his ruined arm, spurting sluggishly.
Terarn Gashtek frowned when he saw Elric. Then he shouted: "Now Westerner, you shall see how we placate our Gods with better gifts than meal and sour milk as this swine once did. He'll soon be dancing a pretty measure, I'll warrant-won't you, Lord Priest?"
The whining note went out of the old man's voice then and he stared with fever-bright eyes at Elric. His voice rose to a frenzied and high-pitched shriek which was curiously repellent.
"You dogs can howl over me! " he spat, "but Mirath and T'aargano will be revenged for the ruin of their priest and their temple-you have brought flame here and you shall die by flame." He pointed the bleeding stump of his arm at Elric- "And you-you are a traitor and have been one in many causes, I can see it written in you. Though now... You are-" the priest drew breath...
Elric licked his lips.
"I am what I am," he said, "And you are nothing but an old man soon to die. Your gods cannot harm us, for we do not pay them any respect. I'll listen no more to your senile meanderings! "
There was in the old priest's face all the knowledge of his past torment and the torment which was to come. He seemed to consider this and then was silent.
"Save your breath for screaming," said Terarn Gashtek to the uncomprehending priest.
And then Elric said: "It's bad luck to kill a priest, Flame Bringer! "
"You seem weak of stomach, my friend. His sacrifice to our own gods will bring us good luck, fear not."
Elric turned away. As he entered the house again, a wild shriek of agony seared out of the night and the laughter which followed was not pleasant.
Later, as the still burning houses lit the night, Elric and Moonglum, carrying heavy sacks on their shoulders, clasping a woman each, moved with a simulation of drunkenness to the edge of the camp. Moonglum left the sacks and the women with Elric and went back, returning soon with three horses.
They opened the sacks to allow the children to climb out and watched the silent women mount the horses, aiding the children to clamber up.
Then they galloped away.
"Now," said Elric savagely, "we must work our plan tonight, whether the messenger reached Dyvim Slorm or not. I could not bear to witness another such swordquenching."
Terarn Gashtek had drunk himself insensible. He lay sprawled in an upper room of one of the unburned houses.
Elric and Moonglum crept towards him. While Elric watched to see that he was undisturbed, Moonglum knelt beside the barbarian leader and, lightfingered, cautiously reached inside the man's garments. He smiled in self-approval as he lifted out the squirming cat and replaced it with a stuffed rabbit-skin he had earlier prepared for the purpose. Holding the animal tight, he arose and nodded to Elric. Together, warily, they left the house and made their way through the chaos of the camp.
"I ascertained that Drinij Bara lies in the large wagon,' Elric told his friend. "Quickly, now, the main danger's over."
Moonglum said: "When the cat and Drinij Bara have exchanged blood and the sorcerer's soul is back in his body-what then, Elric?"
"Together, our powers may serve at least to hold the barbarians back, but-" he broke off as a large group of warriors came weaving towards them.
"It's the Westerner and his little friend," laughed one. "Where are you off to, comrades?"
Elric sensed their mood. The slaughter of the day had not completely satiated their blood-lust. They were looking for trouble.
"Nowhere in particular," he replied. The barbarians lurched around them, encircling them.
"We've heard much of your straight blade, stranger," grinned their spokesman, "and I'd a mind to test it against a real weapon." He grabbed his own scimitar out of his belt. "What do you say?"
"I'd spare you that," said Elric coolly.
"You are generous-but I'd rather you accepted my invitation."
"Let us pass," said Moonglum.
The barbarians' faces hardened. "Speak you so to the conquerors of the world?" said the leader.
Moonglum took a step back and drew his sword, the cat squirming in his left hand.
"We'd best get this done," said Elric to his friend. He tugged his runeblade from its scabbard. The sword sang a soft and mocking tune and the barbarians heard it. They were disconcerted.
"Well?" said Elric, holding the half-sentient blade out
The barbarian who had challenged him looked uncertain of what to do. Then he forced himself to shout: "Clean iron can withstand any sorcery," and launched himself forward.
Elric, grateful for the chance to take further vengeance, blocked his swing, forced the scimitar back and aimed a blow which sliced the man's torso just above the hip. The barbarian screamed and died. Moonglum, dealing with a couple more, killed one but another came in swiftly and his sweeping sword sliced the little Eastlander's left shoulder. He howled-and dropped the cat. Elric stepped in, slew Moonglum's opponent, Stormbringer wailing a triumphant dirge. The rest of the barbarians turned and ran off.
"How bad is your wound?" gasped Elric, but Moonglum was on his knees staring through the gloom.
"Quick, Elric-can you see the cat? I dropped it in the struggle. If we lose it-we too are lost."
Frantically, they began to hunt through the camp.
But they were unsuccessful, for the cat, with the dexterity of its kind, had hidden itself.
A few moments later they heard the sounds of uproar coming from the house which Terarn Gashtek had commandeered.
"He's discovered that the cat's been stolen! " exclaimed Moonglum. "What do we do now?"
"I don't know-keep searching and hope he does not suspect us."
They continued to hunt, but with no result. While they searched, several barbarians came up to them. One of them said:
"Our leader wishes to speak with you."
"Why?"
"He'll inform you of that. Come on."
Reluctantly, they went with the barbarians to be confronted by a raging Terarn Gashtek. He clutched the stuffed rabbit skin in one claw-like hand and his face was warped with fury.
"My hold over the sorcerer has been stolen from me," he roared. "What do you know of it?"
"I don't understand," said Elric.
"The cat is missing-I found this rag in its place. You were caught talking to Drinij Bara recently, I think you were responsible."
"We know nothing of this," said Moonglum.