When both he and Sepiriz were satisfied, Elric allowed a lave to take him to his sleeping chamber, but slumber came hard to him and he spent the night in restless torment until a slave came to wake him the next morning and found him fully dressed and ready to ride for Pan Tang where the Dukes of Hell were assembled.

Through the stricken lands of the west rode Elric and Moonglum, astride sturdy Nihrain steeds that seemed to need no rest and contained no fear. The Nihrain horses were a special gift, for they had certain additional powers to their unnatural strength and endurance. Sepiriz had told them how, in fact, the steeds did not have full existence on the earthly plane and that their hooves did not touch the ground in the strict sense, but touched the stuff of their other plane. This gave them the ability to appear to gallop on air-or water.

Scenes of terror were everywhere to be found. At one time they saw in the distance a frightful sight, a wild and hellish mob destroying a village built around a castle. The castle itself was in flames and on the horizon a mountain gouted smoke and fire. Though the looters had human shape, they were degenerate creatures, spilling blood and drinking it with equal abandon. And directing them without joining their orgy Elric and Moonglum saw what seemed to be a corpse astride the living skeleton of a horse, bedecked in bright trappings, a naming sword in its band and a golden helm on its head.

They skirted the scene and rode fast away from it, through mists that looked and smelt like blood, over rivers dammed with death, past rustling forests that seemed to follow them, beneath skies often filled with ghastly winged shapes bearing even ghastlier burdens. At other times they met groups of warriors, many of them in the armour and trappings of the conquered nations, but depraved and obviously sold to Chaos.

These they fought or avoided, depending on the circumstance and, when at last they reached the cliffs of Jharkor and saw the sea which would take them to the Isle of Pan Tang, they knew they had ridden through a land which had become, literally, a hell on earth.

Scarcely stopping, Elric and Moonglum rode their horses over the water towards the evil-heavy island of Pan Tang where Jagreen Lern and his terrible allies prepared to sail with their giant fleet and smash the seapower of the south before conquering the Southlands themselves.

«Elric! » Moonglum called above the whining wind, «Should we not proceed with more caution?»

«Caution? What need of that when the Dukes of Hell must surely know their turncoat servant comes to fight them! »

Moonglum pursed his long lips, disturbed, for Elric was in a wild, maddened mood. He got little comfort, also, from the knowledge that Sepiriz had charmed his shortsword and his sabre both, with one of the few white spells he had at his command.

Now the bleak cliffs of Pan Tang were in sight, spray-lashed and ominous, the sea moaning about them as if in some special torment which Chaos could inflict on nature itself.

And also around the island a peculiar darkness hovered, shifting and changing.

They entered the darkness as the Nihrain steeds pounded up the steep, rocky beach of Pan Tang, a place that had always been ruled by its black priesthood, a grim theocracy that had sought to emulate the legendary sorcerer-kings of the Bright Empire of Melnibone. But Elric, last of those kings, and landless now with few subjects, knew that the dark arts had been natural and lawful to his ancestors, whereas these human-beings had perverted themselves to worship an unholy hierarchy they barely understood.

Sepiriz had given them their route and they galloped across the turbulent land towards the capital-Hwamgaarl, City of Screaming Statues.

Pan Tang was an island of green, shiny, obsidian rock that gave off bizarre reflections; rock that seemed alive.

Soon they could see the looming walls of Hwamgaarl in the distance. As they drew nearer, an army of black-cowered swordsmen, chanting a particularly horrible litany, seemed to rise from the ground ahead.

Elric had no time to spare for these, recognizable as a detachment of Jagreen Lern's warrior-priests.

«Up, steed! » he cried and the Nihrain horse leapt skywards, passing over the disconcerted priests with a fantastic bound. Moonglum did likewise, his laughter mocking them u he and his friend thundered on towards Hwamgaarll

Their way was dear for some distance, since Jagreen Lern had evidently expected the detachment to hold the pair at least for some time.

But when the City of Screaming Statues was barely a mile away, the ground began to grumble and gaping cracks split its surface. This did not overly disturb them, for the Nihrain horses had no use for earthly terrain in any case.

The sky above seemed to heave and shake itself, the darkness became flushed with streaks of the ebony, and from the fissures in the ground, monstrous shapes sprang up!

Vulture-headed lions, fifteen feet high, prowled in hungry anticipation towards them, their feathered manes rustling as they approached.

To Moonglum's frightened astonishment, Elric laughed and the Eastlander knew his friend had gone mad.

But Elric was familiar with this ghoulish pack since his own ancestors had formed it for their own purposes a dozen centuries before.

Evidently, Jagreen Lern had discovered the pack nuking on the borders between Chaos and Earth and had utilised it without being aware of how it had been created.

Old words formed on Elric's pale lips and he spoke affectionately to the towering bird-beasts.

They ceased their progress toward him and glanced uncertainly around them, their loyalties evidently divided.

Feathered tails lashed, claw worked in and out of pads, scraping great gashes in the rock.

And, taking advantage of this, Elric and Moonglum walked their horses through them and emerged just as a droning but angry voice rapped from the heavens, ordering, in the High Tongue of Melnibone; «Destroy them! ’

One lion-vulture bounded uncertainly towards them. Another followed it and another, till the whole pack raced to catch them.

«Faster! » Elric whispered to the Nihrain horse, but the steed could hardly keep the distance separating them.

There was nothing for it but to turn. Deep in the recesses of his memory he recalled there was a certain spell he had teamed as a child. Au the old spells of Melnibone had been passed on to him by his father with the warning that. in these times, many of them were virtually useless. But there had been one-the spell for calling the vulture-headed lions and another spell...

Now he remembered it! The spell for sending them back to the domain of Chaos. Would it work..?

He adjusted his mind, sought the words he needed as the beasts plunged on towards him.

The creatures paused and, desperately, Elric repeated the spell, afraid that he had made a small mistake, either within his mind or in the words.

Moonglum, who had drawn his horse up beside Elric, did not dare speak his fears, for he knew the albino sorcerer must not be hindered while spell-making. He watched in trepidation as the leading beast gave voice to a cawing roar.

But Elric heard the sound with relief, for it meant the beasts had understood his threat and were still bound to obey the spell.

Slowly, half-reluctantly, they crawled down into the fissures and vanished.

Sweating, Elric said triumphantly: «Luck is with us so far! » Jagreen Lern either under-estimated my powers or else this is all he could summon with his own! More proof, perhaps, that Chaos uses him and not the other way about! »