The Queen of Swords (21 page)

Only Lord Arkyn remained now, all clothed in white radiance, his white sword in his hand.

“IT IS DONE!” said his voice and it seemed that warmth flooded through all the world.

“IT IS DONE!”

Corum cried, “Lord Arkyn! Did you know that Xiombarg’s fury would be so great that she would risk the wrath of the Balance and enter this realm.”

“I HOPED IT. I MERELY HOPED IT.”

“Then much of what you have asked me to do was with this in mind?”

“AYE.”

Corum thought of all the bitterness he had experienced, all the strife. He thought of Prince Gaynor’s thousands of faces flickering before him…

“I could come to hate all gods,” he said.

“IT WOULD BE YOUR RIGHT. WE MUST USE MORTALS FOR ENDS WE CANNOT OURSELVES ACHIEVE.”

And then Lord Arkyn had vanished also and all that was left were the circling sky ships of Gwlās-cor-Gwrys sending down invisible death to the shrieking, terrified barbarians who were scattering now all over the churned lawns, avenues and gardens of Halwyg-nan-Vake.

Beyond the walls a few barbarians were fleeing, but the sky ships found them. The sky ships found them all.

Corum noted that the Army of the Dog and the Army of the Bear had gone, as had the creatures of Chaos he had summoned to his aid. Had they been recalled by their masters—the Dog and the Horned Bear—or were they now occupying the Cavern of Limbo. He put a finger to his jeweled eye-patch but then dropped it. He could not bear, for a long time, to look upon that netherworld.

The King Without a Country came forward. “You see how useful the gift was, Prince Corum.”

“Aye.”

“And now Xiombarg is banished from her realm only one more realm has a Sword Ruler. Mabelode must fear us now.”

“I am sure that he does,” said Corum without joy.

“And I am no longer a king without a country. I can begin to rebuild my kingdom once I have returned to my own plane.”

“That is good,” said Corum tonelessly.

He went to the battlements and he looked down at the corpse-strewn city. A few of the citizens were beginning to emerge from their houses. The power of the Mabden barbarians was ended for ever. Peace had come to Arkyn’s realm and peace, no doubt, would come to the realm now to be ruled by his brother Lord of Law.

“Shall we return to Moidel in the sea?” Rhalina asked him softly, stroking his haggard face.

He shrugged. “I doubt if it exists. Glandyth would have razed it.”

“And what of Earl Glandyth?” Jhary-a-Conel stroked the chin of his purring, winged cat which sat again upon his shoulder. “Where is he? What became of him?”

“I do not think he is dead,” said Corum. “I think I shall encounter him again. I have served Law and performed all the deeds Arkyn asked of me. But I have still to take my vengeance.”

A sky ship came towards them. In its prow stood the old, handsome Vadhagh Prince Yurette. He was smiling as the ship of the air settled on the roof. “Corum. Will you guest with us at Gwlās-cor-Gwrys? I wish to speak on matters concerning the restoration of Vadhagh lands, of Vadhagh castles—so that your land may once again be called Bro-an-Vadhagh. We will send the remaining Mabden back to their original kingdom of Bro-an-Mabden and the pleasant forests and fields will bloom again.”

And at last Corum’s gaunt face softened and he smiled.

“I thank you, Prince Yurette. We should be honoured to guest with you.”

“Now that we have returned to our own realm, I think we shall cease our venturings for a while,” said Prince Yurette.

“And,” Corum added feelingly, “I hope that I, too, may cease my own venturings. A little tranquility would be welcome.”

Far out across the plain the City in the Pyramid was beginning to descend to Earth.

EPILOGUE

G
LANDYTH-A-
K
RAE WAS WEARY
, as were his men, the charioteers who massed behind him. From the cover of the hill he had witnessed the confrontation between Queen Xiombarg and Lord Arkyn and he had seen his folk destroyed by the Vadhagh Shefanhow in their sorcerous flying craft.

For many months he had sought Corum Jhaelen Irsei and that
gast
of a renegade, the Margravine Rhalina. And at last he had turned from his search to join the main army in its attack upon Halwyg-nan-Vake, only to witness the sudden defeat of the Mabden horde and its allies.

Earl Glandyth glowered. It was he who was the outlaw now—he who must hide and scheme and know fear—for the Vadhagh had returned and Law ruled all.

At last, as night fell, and the world was illuminated by the strange green glow from the monstrous, sorcerous city, Glandyth ordered his men to go back along the road they had travelled, back to the sea and into the dark forests of the north-east. And he vowed he would yet find an ally strong enough to destroy Corum and all that Corum loved.

And he believed he knew whom to summon.

He believed he knew.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

B
ORN IN
L
ONDON
in 1939, Michael Moorcock now lives in Texas. A prolific and award-winning writer with more than eighty works of fiction and non-fiction to his name, he is the creator of Elric, Jerry Cornelius and Colonel Pyat, amongst many other memorable characters. In 2008,
The Times
named Moorcock in their list of “The 50 greatest British writers since 1945”.

A NOMAD OF THE TIME STREAMS

The Warlord of the Air

The Land Leviathan

The Steel Tsar

THE ETERNAL CHAMPION SERIES

The Eternal Champion

Phoenix in Obsidian

The Dragon in the Sword

THE CORUM SERIES

The Knight of the Swords

The King of the Swords
(July 2015)

The Bull and the Spear
(August 2015)

The Oak and the Ram
(September 2015)

The Sword and the Stallion
(October 2015)

THE CORNELIUS QUARTET

The Final Programme
(February 2016)

A Cure for Cancer
(March 2016)

The English Assassin
(April 2016)

The Condition of Muzak
(May 2016)

THE MICHAEL MOORCOCK LIBRARY

Elric of Melniboné

Elric: Sailor on the Seas of Fate
(June 2015)

MICHAEL MOORCOCK’S ELRIC

Volume 1: The Ruby Throne

Volume 2: Stormbringer