The History of the Runestaff

by Michael Moorcock

  But they struggled on and just before dawn came to the valley marked on the map. The valley where the sorcerer Mygan was said to live.

  Hawkmoon began to smile. "Those Dark Empire riders will have camped for the night, almost certainly.

  We'll have time to see Mygan, get his crystals, and be away before they ever arrive!"

  "Let's hope so," said D'Averc, thinking privately that Hawkmoon needed rest, for his eyes were a little fever-ish. But he followed him down to the valley and consulted the map. "Up there," he said. "That's where Mygan's cave's supposed to be, but I see nothing."

  "The map has it halfway up yonder cliff," said Hawkmoon. "Let us climb up and see."

  They crossed the floor of the valley, leaping over a small, clear stream that ran down a fissure in the rock the length of the valley. Here there were, indeed, signs of Man, for there was a path down to the river and a wooden apparatus that had evidently been used for drawing up water from the stream.

  They followed the path to the side of the cliff. Now they found old, worn handholds in the rock. They had not been carved recently, but had been there, it appeared, for ages, well before Mygan had been born.

  They began to climb.

  The going was difficult, but at last they reached a ledge of rock on which a huge boulder stood, and there, behind the boulder, was the dark entrance to a cavern!

  Hawkmoon went forward, eager to enter, but D'Averc put a cautionary hand on his shoulder.

  "Best take care," he said and drew his sword.

  "An old man cannot harm us," Hawkmoon said.

  "You are tired, my friend, and exhausted, other-wise you would realise that an old man of the wisdom Tozer claimed for him will possibly have weapons which could harm us. He has no liking for men, from what Tozer said, and there is no reason why he should think us anything more than enemies."

  Hawkmoon nodded, drew his own blade, and then advanced.

  The cavern was dark and seemingly empty, but then they saw a glimmer of light from the back. Approaching the source of this light, they discovered a sharp bend in the cavern.

  Rounding the bend they saw that the first cavern led on to a second, much larger. This was fitted up with all sorts of things, instruments of the kind they had seen in Halapandur, a couple of cots, cooking materials, chemical equipment and much more. The source of the light was a globe in the center of the cave.

  "Mygan!" called D'Averc, but there was no reply.

  They searched the cave, wondering if there was yet another extension, but found nothing.

  "He has gone!" Hawkmoon said in desperation, his nervous fingers rubbing at the black jewel in his forehead. "Gone, D'Averc, and who knows where. Perhaps after Tozer left him, he decided that it was no longer safe to remain and has moved on."

  "I think not," D'Averc said. "He would have taken some of this stuff with him, would he not?" He looked around the cave. "And that cot looks recently slept in.

  There is no dust anywhere. Mygan has probably gone off on some local expedition and will be back soon.

  We must wait for him."

  "And what of Meliadus—if that was Meliadus we saw?"

  "We must simply hope he moves slowly on the trail and takes some time to discover this cave!"

  "If he's as eager as you said Flana told you, then he'll not be far behind us," Hawkmoon pointed out. He went to a bench on which there were various dishes of meat, vegetables and herbs, helping himself greedily.

  D'Averc followed his example.

  "We'll rest here and wait," D'Averc said. "It is all we can do now, my friend."

  A day passed, and a night, and Hawkmoon hourly grew impatient as the old man did not return.

  "Suppose he has been captured," he suggested to D'Averc. "Suppose Meliadus found him wandering in the mountains."

  "If so, then Meliadus is bound to bring him back here and we shall win the old man's gratitude by rescuing him from the baron," D'Averc replied with forced cheerfulness.

  "There were twenty men we saw, armed with flame-lances if I was not mistaken. We cannot take twenty, D'Averc."

  "You are in low spirits, Hawkmoon. We have taken twenty before—more!"

  "Aye," Hawkmoon agreed, but it was plain that the journey had taken much out of him. Perhaps, too, the deception at the Court of King Huon had been a greater strain on him than on D'Averc, for D'Averc appeared to relish deception of that kind.

  At length, Hawkmoon strode to the outer cave and onto the ledge beyond. Some instinct seemed to draw him out, for he looked into the valley and saw them.

  Now it was close enough to be sure.

  The leader of the men was, indeed, Baron Meliadus.

  His ornate wolf mask glinted ferociously as it turned up and saw Hawkmoon at the instant Hawkmoon looked down.

  The great, roaring voice echoed through the mountains. It was a voice full of mingled rage and triumph, the voice of a wolf that has scented its prey.

  "Hawkmoon!," came the cry. "Hawkmoon!"

  Meliadus flung himself from Ms saddle and began to scale the cliff. "Hawkmoon!"

  Behind him came his well-armed men and Hawkmoon knew there was little chance of fighting them all off. He called back into the cavern. "D'Averc—Meliadus is here. Quickly man, he'll trap us in these caves.

  We must reach the top of the cliff."

  D'Averc came running from the cavern, buckling on his sword belt, glanced down, thought for a moment, then nodded. Hawkmoon ran to the face of the cliff, seeking handholds on the rough surface, hauling himself upward.

  A flame-lance beam splashed against the rock close to his hand, singeing the hairs on his wrist. Another landed beneath him, but he climbed on.

  Perhaps at the top of the cliff he could stand and make a fight, but he needed to protect his life and D'Averc's for as long as possible, for the security of Castle Brass could depend on it.

  "Haaawkmoooon!" came the echoing cry of the vengeful Meliadus. "Haaaawkmoooooon!"

  Hawkmoon climbed on, scraping his hands on the rock, gashing his leg, but not pausing, taking incredible risks as he clambered up the cliff face, D'Averc close behind him.

  At last they reached the top and saw a plateau stretching away from them. If they attempted to cross it, the flame-lances were bound to cut them down.

  "Now," Hawkmoon said grimly, drawing his sword, "we stand and fight."

  D'Averc grinned. "At last. I thought you were losing your nerve, my friend."

  They glanced over the edge of the cliff and saw that Baron Meliadus had reached the ledge by Mygan's cavern and was darting in, sending his men on ahead in pursuit of his two hated foes. Doubtless he hoped to find some of the others there—Oladahn, Count Brass—or even, perhaps Yisselda, whom Hawkmoon knew was loved by the baron, however much he refused to admit it.

  Soon the first of the wolf warriors had reached the cliff and Hawkmoon delivered a jarring kick to his helmet. He did not fall, however, but reached out and clutched Hawkmoon's foot, either trying to drag himself back to safety or drag Hawkmoon with him over the cliff.

  D'Averc sprang forward, stabbing the man in the shoulder. He grunted, released the grip on Hawkmoon, sought to grasp a spur of rock on the cliff edge, missed and tumbled backwards, arms flailing, to yell one long yell all the way to the floor of the valley, far, far below.

  But now others were clambering over the edge.

  D'Averc engaged one, while Hawkmoon suddenly found himself with two to contend with.

  Back and forth along the edge of the cliff they fought, the valley hundreds of feet below them.

  Hawkmoon took one in the throat, between helm and gorget, neatly skewered another through the belly, where his armour did not reach, but two more quickly took their place.

  They fought for an hour thus, keeping back as many as they could from gaining the top of the cliff, engaging with their swords those they could not dissuade from getting to the top.

  Then they were surrounded, the swords pressing in on them like the teeth of some gigan
tic shark, until their throats were threatened by a band of blades and Meliadus's voice came from somewhere, full of gloating malice. "Surrender, gentlemen, or you'll be butchered, I promise."

  Hawkmoon and D'Averc lowered their swords, glancing hopelessly at each other.

  They both knew that Meliadus hated them with a terrible, consuming hatred. Now they were his prisoners in his own land. There was no possibility of escape.

  Meliadus seemed to realize this, too, for he cocked his wolf mask on one side and chuckled.

  "I do not know how you came to Granbretan, Hawkmoon and D'Averc, but I do know you now for a pair of fools! Were you too seeking the old man? Why, I wonder? You already have what he has."

  "Perhaps he has other things," said Hawkmoon, deliberately attempting to obscure the matter as much as possible, for the less Meliadus knew, the more chance they had of deceiving him.

  "Other things? You mean he has other devices useful to the Empire? Thanks for telling me, Hawkmoon.

  The old man himself will doubtless be more specific."

  "The old man has left, Meliadus," said D'Averc smoothly. "We warned him you might be coming."

  "Left, eh? If that's the case, you'll know where he has gone, Sir Huillam."

  "Not I," said D'Averc, looking peeved as the warriors bound him and Hawkmoon together and tied a noose under their arms.

  "We'll see." Meliadus chuckled again. "I appreciate the excuse you offer me to begin a little torture here and now. A soupcon of vengeance for the moment.

  We'll explore the full possibilities when we return to my palace. Then, too, perhaps I'll have the old man and his secret of travelling through the dimensions . . ."

  Privately he told himself that he was bound, in this way, to reinstate himself with the King Emperor and achieve Huon's forgiveness for leaving the city without permission.

  His gauntleted hand reached out to stroke Hawkmoon's face almost lovingly. "Ah, Hawkmoon—soon you shall feel my punishment; soon ..."

  Hawkmoon shuddered to the roots of his being, then spat full into the grinning wolf mask.

  Meliadus recoiled, hand going up to mask, then sweeping out and striking Hawkmoon across the mouth.

  He growled in rage. "Another moment of anguish for that, Hawkmoon. And those moments, I promise you, will seem to last for aeons!"

  Hawkmoon turned his head away in disgust and pain, was thrust roughly forward by the guards and pushed, together with Sir Huillam D'Averc, over the edge of the cliff.

  The rope around their bodies stopped them from falling far, but they were lowered un-gently to the ledge and Meliadus joined them shortly.

  "I must still find the old man," said the baron. "I suspect he's lurking somewhere hereabouts. We'll leave you well bound in the cavern, put a couple of guards at the entrance just in case you somehow free yourselves from your bonds, and set off to look for him. There is no escape for you now, Hawkmoon, none for you either, D'Averc. You are both mine at last! Drag them inside. Bind them with all the rope you can find.

  Remember—guard them well, for they are Meliadus's playthings!"

  He watched as they were trussed and dragged into the nearer cavern. Meliadus placed three men at the entrance of the cavern and began to clamber back down the cliff in high spirits.

  It would not be much longer, he promised himself, before all his enemies were in his power, all their secrets had been tortured from them, and then the King Emperor would know that he had spoken the truth.

  And if the King Emperor did not think well of him—what matter?

  Meliadus had plans to right that error, also.

  Chapter Sixteen - MYGAN OF LLANDAR

  NIGHT FELL OUTSIDE the cavern and Hawkmoon and D'Averc lay in the shadow cast by the light from the second cave.

  The broad backs of the guards filled the entrance and the ropes of their bonds were tight-bound and considerable.

  Hawkmoon tried to struggle, but his movements were virtually restricted to moving his mouth, his eyes and his neck a little. D'Averc was in a similar position.

  "Well, my friend, we were not cautious enough,"

  D'Averc said with as light a tone as he could muster.

  "No," Hawkmoon agreed. "Starvation and weariness makes fools of even the wisest of men. We have only ourselves to blame ..."

  "We deserve our suffering," D'Averc said, somewhat doubtfully. "But do our friends? We must think of escape, Hawkmoon, no matter how hopeless it seems."

  Hawkmoon sighed. "Aye, If Meliadus should succeed in reaching Castle Brass ..."

  He shuddered.

  It seemed to him from his brief encounter with the Granbretanian nobleman, that Meliadus was even more deranged than previously. Was it his defeat, several times, by Hawkmoon and the folk of Castle Brass? Was it the thwarting of his victory when Castle Brass had been spirited away? Hawkmoon could not guess. He only knew that his old enemy seemed less in control of his mind than earlier. There was no telling what he would do in such an unbalanced condition.

  Hawkmoon turned his head, frowning, thinking he had heard a noise from within the far cavern. From where he lay, he could see a little of the lighted cave.

  He craned his neck, hearing the sound again.

  D'Averc murmured, very softly so that the guards should not hear, "There is someone in there, I'll swear..."

  And then a shadow fell across them and they stared up into the face of a tall, old man with a great, rugged face that seemed carved from stone and a mane of white hair that helped his leonine appearance.

  The old man frowned, looking the bound men up and down. He pursed his lips and looked out to where the three guards stood at attention, looked back at Hawkmoon and D'Averc. He said nothing, simply folded his arms across his chest. Hawkmoon saw that there were crystal rings on his fingers—all but the little finger of the left hand bore rings, even the thumbs.

  This must be Mygan of Llandar! But how had he got into the cave? A secret entrance?

  Hawkmoon looked at him desperately, mouthing his pleas for help.

  The giant smiled again and bent forward a little so that he could hear Hawkmoon's whisper.

  "Please, sir, if you be Mygan of Llandar, know that we are friends to you—prisoners of your enemies."

  "And how do I know you speak truth?" said Mygan, also in a whisper.

  One of the guards stirred outside, beginning to turn, doubtless sensing something. Mygan withdrew into the cavern. The guard grunted.

  "What are you two muttering about? Discussing what the baron will do with ye, eh? Well, you can't imagine what entertainments he's got fixed up for you, Hawkmoon."

  Hawkmoon made no reply.

  When the guard had turned back, chuckling, Mygan bent closer again.

  "You're Hawkmoon?"

  "You've heard of me?"

  "Something. If you're Hawkmoon, you may be speaking the truth, for though I be of Granbretan, I hold no brief for the Lords who rule in Londra. But how do you know who my enemies are?"

  "Baron Meliadus of Kroiden has learned of the secret you imparted to Tozer who was your guest here not long ago ..."

  "Imparted! He wheedled it from me, stole one of my rings when I slept, used it to escape. Wanted to ingratiate himself with his masters in Londra, I gather ..."

  "You are right. Tozer told them of a power, boasted that it was a mental attribute, demonstrated his power and turned up in the Kamarg..."

  "Doubtless by accident. He had no conception of how to use the ring properly."

  "So we gathered."

  "I believe you, Hawkmoon, and I fear this Meliadus."

  "You'll free us so that we can attempt to escape from here, protect you against him?"

  "I doubt if I need your protection."

  Mygan disappeared from Hawkmoon's view.

  "What does he plan, I wonder," said D'Averc, who had deliberately remained silent until now.

  Hawkmoon shook his head.

  Mygan reappeared with a long knife in his hand. He stretched out and began s
licing through Hawkmoon's bonds until at last the Duke von Koln was able to free himself, keeping a wary eye on the guards outside.

  "Hand me the knife," he whispered, and took it from Mygan's hand. He began cutting away D'Averc's ropes.

  From outside they heard voices.

  "Baron Meliadus is returning," one of the guards said. "He sounds in an evil temper."

  Hawkmoon darted an anxious glance at D'Averc and they sprang up.

  Alerted by the movement, one of the guards turned, crying out in surprise.

  The two men darted forward. Hawkmoon's hand stopped the guard from drawing his sword. D'Averc's arm went round another's throat and drew his sword for him. The sword rose and fell even before the guard could scream.

  While Hawkmoon wrestled with the first guard, D'Averc engaged the third. The clang of swords began to sound in the air and they heard Meliadus's shout of surprise.

  Hawkmoon threw his opponent to the ground and placed a knee in his groin, drew the dagger that was still sheathed at his side, prised back the mask and struck the man in the throat.

  Meanwhile, D'Averc had despatched his man, stood panting over the corpse.

  Mygan called from the back of the cavern. "I see you wear crystal rings, like those I have. Do you know how to control them?"

  "We know only how to return to the Kamarg! A turn to the left. .."

  "Aye. Well, Hawkmoon, I would help you. You must turn the crystals first to the right and then to the left. Repeat the movement six times and then ..."

  The great bulk of Meliadus loomed in the entrance to the cavern.

  "Oh, Hawkmoon—you plague me still. The old man! Seize him!"

  The rest of Meliadus's warriors began to surge into the cavern. D'Averc and Hawkmoon fell back before them, desperately fighting.

  The old man shouted in fury: "Trespassers. Back!"

  He rushed forward with his long knife raised.

  "No!" cried Hawkmoon. "Mygan—let us do the blade work. Keep away. You are defenceless against such as these!"

  But Mygan did not retreat. Hawkmoon tried to reach him, saw him go down before a blow from a wolf sword, struck out at the one who had struck Mygan.

  The cavern was in confusion as they retreated back into the inner cave. The sound of the swords echoed, counterpointed by Meliadus's enraged shouts.