The City of the Beast or Warriors of Mars

by Michael Moorcock

  I seized his shoulder, trying to shake some selfcontrol into him, but he fell to the floor and continued to moan and tremble.

  I knelt beside him. "Tell me—who is Horguhl— what is her part in this?"

  "Ah! P-please—leave me. I will not tell them you are here ... Y-you must go. L-leave!"

  I continued to shake him. 'Tell me!"

  Suddenly a new voice spoke from behind me. A cool, mocking voice full of controlled, malicious humor...

  "Leave the poor wretch alone, Michael Kane. I can answer your question better than he. My guards mentioned a disturbance in the store-room so I came to investigate myself. I have been halfexpecting you."

  I whirled, still in a crouching position, and looked up to stare into the deep, evil eyes of the dark-haired woman whose role had been such a mystery. It was to be a mystery no longer.

  "Horguhl! Who are you?"

  "I am Queen of the Argzoon, Michael Kane. It was I who commanded the army you defeated, not poor Ranak Mard. My army dispersed before I could recall it because that bitch-dahara Shizala attacked me soon after you had left. In the struggle she knocked me unconscious but she was then captured by some of my men. When I awoke, my army was in confusion, so I decided to take vengeance on her instead of her city ..."

  "You! All this was your doing! But how are you Queen of those giant savages—what power can one woman wield over them?"

  "It is my power over something else that they fear," she smiled.

  "What is that?"

  "You will learn soon enough." Blue Giants were beginning to swarm into the room behind her. "Seize him!"

  I tried to stand up but stumbled against the prone and shaking body of the slave. Before I could recover my position half-a-dozen Argzoon were piling on top of me.

  I fought back with fists and feet, but soon they had bound my arms behind me and Horguhl was laughing in my face, her white, sharp teeth flashing in the gloom.

  "And now," she said, "you will learn the punishment meted out to the man responsible for disrupting the plans of the Queen of the Argzoon!"

  Chapter Twelve

  THE PIT OF THE N'AAL BEAST

  "BRING him to my chambers," Horguhl ordered the guards. "I will question him first."

  I was forced to walk behind her, following her through a maze of bleak and draughty corridors lit by guttering torches, until we came to a large door apparently made of heavy wood covered with silver hammered into some crude semblance of a design.

  This door was opened and the big room we entered was warmed by a huge fire roaring in a grate at one side. The room itself was rich with rugs of fur and heavy cloth. Covering the walls were tapestries, obviously booty from raided cities, for the workmanship was exquisite. Even the windows were covered, and this explained the warmth of the room.

  A heavy chest, about the height of my waist, stood near the fire. On this stood jugs of wine and bowls of fruit and meat. A large, fur-strewn couch was on the other side of the room opposite the fire, and there were a few benches and carved wooden chairs dotted about.

  Though not particularly lavish by the standards of the civilized south, the Queen's chambers were luxurious compared with what I had witnessed of the living standards of the Argzoon peoples.

  Over the fireplace hung a tapestry much less well executed than the others. It depicted the creature I had already seen on the Queen's banner—the mysterious N'aal Beast. It looked menacing and I noticed the guards avert their eyes from it as if afraid of it.

  I was still tightly bound, of course, and when Horguhl dismissed the guards she was in no danger from me. I stood straight-backed, staring over her head as she paced before me, darting me strange, curious looks. This went on for some time, but I kept my expression blank and my eyes fixedly ahead.

  Suddenly she faced me, swept back her right hand and slapped me stingingly across the mouth. I kept my features rigid as before.

  "Who are you, Michael Kane?"

  I did not answer.

  "There is something about you. Something I have never sensed in any other man. Something I could learn to—to like." Her voice became softer and she took a step closer to me. "I mean it, Michael Kane," she said. "Your fate will not be pleasant if I order it to be carried out. But you could avert it..."

  I still remained silent.

  "Michael Kane—I am a woman. A—a sensitive woman." She laughed lightly, somewhat self-mockingly, I thought. "I am what I am through no circumstances of my own making. Would you like to hear why I am Queen of the Argzoon?"

  "I would like to know where Shizala is, that is all," I said at length. "Where is she?"

  "No harm has come to her yet. Perhaps none will. I have thought out an interesting fate for her. It will not kill her, but it will help me turn her into a willing handmaiden, I think. I.would rather keep the ruler of Varnal as my cringing slave than have her dead..."

  My mind raced. So Shizala was not to die—yet, at any rate. I was relieved, for that would give time for Darnad to come and try to rescue her. I relaxed a little—perhaps I even smiled.

  "You seem in good humor. Do you not feel anything for the woman, then?" Horguhl sounded almost eager.

  "Why should I?" I lied.

  "That is good," she said, almost to herself. She strode panther-like to the couch and spread her beautiful body upon it. I continued to stand where I was, but looked directly into those smouldering eyes. After a while she dropped her gaze.

  Staring at the floor, she said: "I was only a child of eleven when the Argzoon attacked the caravan in which I and my parents were travelling through the northern borders of Vladnyar. They killed many—including my mother and father—but took slaves as well. I was one of those slaves ..."

  I knew she was trying to touch me in some way, and if her story were true I felt sorry for the child she had been. But I could not, considering her later crimes, justify them.

  "In those days, the Argzoon were divided amongst themselves. Often the cavern was a battlefield between warring factions. They could not unite. The Argzoon were split into scores of family clans and blood-feuds were normal, day-to-day happenings. The only thing that could unite them for a short while was the common fear of the N'aal Beast which haunted the subterranean passages below the floor of the Great Cavern. It fed on the Argzoon, who were its natural prey. It would slither up and attack then slither away again. The Argzoon believe that the N'aal Beast is an incarnation of Raharumara, their chief deity. They dared not make any attempt to kill it. Whenever possible they would sacrifice slaves to it.

  "When I was sixteen years old, I was chosen as one of those who would feed the N'aal Beast. But already I had felt this power in me—some ability to make others do my will. Oh, not in large ways—I was still a slave—but in ways that made my lot a little easier. Strangely, it was the N'aal Beast which brought this power out of me in strength.

  "When news came that the N'aal was slithering up into the Great Cavern, I and a number of others—folk like myself and Argzoon criminals—were bound and placed in its supposed path. Soon it appeared and I watched in horrified dread as it began to seize my companions and swallow them. I started to stare into its eyes. Some instinct made me croon at it. I—I don't know what it was, but it responded to me. Through my mind, I was able to communicate with it, give it orders."

  She paused and looked up at me. I did not react.

  "I returned to this city—the Black City—with the N'aal Beast following me like a pet. I ordered a deep hole to be made, in which the beast was imprisoned. The Argzoon regarded me with superstitious awe—they still do. By controlling the N'aal Beast, I control them. Later I decided to make up for my years of misery and hardship and planned conquest of this entire continent. By several methods I got news of the south and her defences. Then I put the first stage of my plan into operation. I was prepared to wait years for victory—but instead..."

  "Defeat," I said. "A well-deserved defeat. Your years with the Argzoon have warped you, Horguhl—warped you beyond hop
e of salvation!"

  "Fool!" She was off the couch and pressing her voluptuous body against me, stroking my chest. "Fool! I have other plans—I am not defeated. I know many secrets; I have much power that you do not dream of. Michael Kane, you can share all this. I told you I have never known a man like you—brave, handsome, strong-willed. But you also have something else—some mysterious quality that makes you as different from the ordinary riffraff of Vashu as I am. Become my King, Michael Kane ..."

  She was speaking softly, her hypnotic eyes staring into mine, and something seemed to be happening to my brain. I felt warm, euphoric. I began to think her proposal was attractive.

  "Michael Kane—I love you!"

  Somehow that statement saved me—though I will never know why. It jerked my mind back to sanity. Bound as I was, I shrugged her clinging hands away.

  "I do not love you, Horguhl," I said firmly. "Neither could I feel anything but loathing for someone who has done what you have done. Now I realize how Shizala was so easily brought here—that hypnotic power of yours! Well, it will not get the better of me!"

  She released me and when she spoke again her voice was low, vibrant. "Somehow I knew that.

  Perhaps that is what attracts me to you—the fact that you can resist my power. Few others can—not even that primordial beast, the N'aal."

  I took several steps backwards. I was still looking around for some means of escape. She seemed to realize this and looked up suddenly.

  Her face was now a mask of hatred!

  "Very well, Michael Kane—by refusing me you are accepting the fate I had planned for you. Guards!"

  The huge Argzoon warriors entered.

  "Take him! Send messengers to all the Argzoon who have returned. There are not many as yet—but tell them all to come. Tell them they are going to witness a sacrifice to Raharumara!"

  With that, I was led away.

  I spent a short time with my guards when they paused in a chamber near the exit of the castle. Then they led me out through the smoky, evilsmelling streets of the Black City. Behind us, in twos and threes at first, then in increasing numbers, there began to follow a procession of Argzoon. One blue warrior who strode beside my guards, keeping pace with me, darted me a strange glance which I could not interpret. The warrior did not wear armor—I assumed he had lost it during the flight back to the Black City—and he had the signs of a recent wound on his breast. Then we were passing from the city and I forgot about him.

  The scene beyond the city was like a mediaeval painting representing Hell. The great bonfires roared, sending flickering, smoky light across the rocky plain that was the cavern floor. The giant Argzoon looked like demons as they escorted me over the plain. The fires were the fires on which the damned were roasted. And I was soon to meet a creature very like an ancient representation of Satan!

  Horguhl was already there, standing on a dais that was reached by a flight of about sixty steps.

  Her back was turned to us and her arms were outstretched. On either side of her were braziers, flaring brightly to show her to all. The Argzoon began to form a semi-circle at the bottom of the steps, and spread out along the sides of what was plainly a pit, now that we were closer. The steps terminated at the dais and the dais looked down on the pit.

  My guards halted and waited expectantly just before the first step. We all looked up at Horguhl. She was crooning something. The words—sounds, rather, for I did not recognize them—sent a shudder through me and I noticed that many of the Argzoon were similarly affected.

  There came a peculiar, slithering sound from the pit and from it, just to one side of the dais, I saw a great flat serpent head rise up and begin to sway in rhythm to Horguhl's crooning.

  The Argzoon muttered in superstitious fear and began to chant and sway in time to the movement of the serpent head. It was of a sickly yellowish color, with long fangs curving out of its mouth from the upper jaw. There was a stale, unwholesome smell about it, and once it opened its great jaws and gave forth a horrid hissing, revealing a gaping red maw and a huge forked tongue.

  Then Horguhl's crooning became softer and softer, the swaying more gentle, the humming of the spectators almost inaudible, and then—it came almost as a shock to me—absolute silence.

  Suddenly this silence was broken as from behind me there came a cry.

  "No! No!"

  I turned my head and saw who it was that had cried out.

  "Shizala!" I shouted involuntarily. The fiends had brought her here to witness my death—that was obvious. Even from that distance I could see her cheeks were streaked with tears and she struggled in the grasp of two massive blue warriors. I tried to break away and run towards her, but my bonds and my guards stopped me.

  "Stay alive!" I shouted to her. "Stay alive! Do not fear!" I could not tell her that Darnad was even now riding for civilization, bent on bringing help to rescue her. But perhaps my cry would mean something to her. "Stay alive!"

  Her voice answered faintly: "Oh, Michael Kane, I-I-"

  "Silence!" Horguhl had turned and was addressing her subjects as much as myself and Shizala. "Take the prisoner to the pit's edge!"

  I was hustled forward and stared down to where the N'aal Beast was coiled. Its oddly intelligent eyes stared up at me—and I shuddered at this—almost with malicious humor!

  "The N'aal Beast is in a playful mood today," Horguhl said from above me. "He will play with you for some time before devouring you."

  I resolved to show no sign of the horror within me.

  "Throw him down!" Horguhl ordered.

  Bound and helpless, I was thrown into the Pit of the N'aal Beast!

  I managed to land on my feet some yards away from where the huge snake-creature still lay coiled, looking at me with those terrible eyes.

  And then, suddenly, from above I heard a cry and looked up. An Argzoon warrior was staring down at me—the one I had seen earlier who had looked at me so strangely. He had a sword in one hand and a battleaxe in the other. What was he doing?

  I heard Horguhl shriek to her guards: "Stop him!"

  And then the Argzoon was leaping into the pit to stand beside me. He raised his sword and I suddenly realized the truth of what was happening.

  Chapter Thirteen

  AN UNEXPECTED ALLY

  AT FIRST I had thought that the warrior was going to slay me himself for some obscure reason. But this was not the case. Swiftly he slashed my bonds.

  "I know you," I said in surprise. "You are the warrior I fought near Varnal."

  "I am the warrior whose life you refused to take—whom you spared from the insults and swords of his comrades. I have thought much on what you did, Michael Kane. I admired what you did. It meant something to me. And now—I can at least help you to fight for your life against this creature."

  "But I thought your folk feared it because of its supposed supernatural character."

  "True. But I begin to doubt that this is true. Quickly—take this sword, I have always been a better axe-man than a swordsman."

  With this unexpected—and welcome—ally, I turned to face the N'aal Beast.

  The Beast seemed put out by this turn of events. Its gaze went from one to the other of us as though uncertain which one to attack first, for we had spaced out now—both crouching, waiting.

  The Beast's great head suddenly whipped towards me. I stumbled backwards until I stood against the wall, desperately hacking at its snout with the great Argzoon blade.

  It was evidently unused to its victims retaliating and it hissed in apparently puzzled anger as my sword gashed a wound in its snout. It drew back its head and began to uncoil, so that soon the head had risen high above me and I was in its shadow. Down came the gaping maw and I thought it would take me in one gulp. I raised the sword point-first and as the mouth was almost upon me, the fetid breath almost overpowering, I dug the sword-point into the beast's soft palate.

  It screamed and threshed backwards. Meanwhile, the Argzoon warrior had come in and hacked at the beast
's head with his axe. It turned on him and the sweeping head caught him off balance.

  He fell and the N'aal Beast opened its mouth, about to snap off his head.

  Then I saw my chance. I leapt on to the N'aal Beast's back—on to its upper head and, running over that flat head, straddled it just above the eyes. All this took only a few seconds, as the Argzoon below tried desperately to fend off the snapping jaws.

  I raised my sword in both hands over the creature's right eye.

  I plunged the blade downwards.

  The steel sank in. The head jerked backwards and I was flung—swordless now—from my perch.

  The N'aal Beast turned again towards me. The sword still protruded from its eye so that it made an even more grotesque sight as it came at me.

  The Argzoon axe-man leapt up again and came to stand by me, evidently intending to protect me now that I was unarmed.

  The beast let out a chilling, reverberating scream, and the gaping mouth, forked tongue flickering rapidly, flashed down on us.

  Only inches before it reached us, the head suddenly turned and flung itself upwards. The beast uncoiled its whole length and began to shoot up so that I felt it would leave the pit altogether. I caught a glimpse of spectators scattering—and then it flopped down, almost striking us and finishing us by crushing us beneath its weight.

  My sword had done the trick. I had killed it. It had clung on to life longer than anything should have. I half-credited its supernatural origin then!

  I bent towards the great head and removed my sword. It slid out easily.

  Then I realized that nothing was really saved. I was still imprisoned and, though armed, there were some two hundred Argzoon above us, ready to destroy us at a word from Horguhl.

  "What do we do?" I asked my new friend.

  "I know," he said, after some thought. "There is a small opening—look there, at the base of the pit on the other side." I followed his pointing finger. He was right. There was an opening large enough to take a man but not large enough for the head of the N'aal Beast.