Free To Rescue Tanelorn by Michael Moorcock Page B

room, awaiting me.
    “Well, Erekosë,” she said, “I know why you are here—why you have forsaken your troops, gone against your word to destroy the Eldren.”
    “Iolinda,” I said urgently. “I am convinced that the Eldren are weary of war—that they never intended to threaten the Two Continents in the first place. They want only peace.”
    “Peace we shall have—when the Eldren race has perished,” she cried.
    “Iolinda, if you love me, you will listen to me, at least.”
    “If I love
you.
And what of the Lord Erekosë—does he still love his queen?”
    I was taken aback. I gaped. I could think of nothing to say—nothing but one word, for then I realized that the reason for my bitterness through the year had not been her lack of response to my love—but my lack of response to hers. That word, of course, was ‘No’. But I did not utter it.
    “Oh, Erekosë,” her tone softened. “Can it be true?” There were tears in her eyes.
    “No,” I said thickly. “I—I still love you, Iolinda. We are to be married…” But she knew. However, if peace was to be the result, then I was prepared to marry her in spite of anything I personally felt.
    “I still want to marry you, Iolinda,” I said.
    “No,” she sighed. “No you don’t.”
    “I will,” I said. “I will. If peace with the Eldren comes about…”
    Again her wide eyes blazed. “Not on those terms, Erekosë. Never. You are guilty of High Treason against us. The people already speak of you as a traitor.”
    “But I conquered all of Mernadin for them—all but Loos Ptokai.”
    “All but Loos Ptokai—where your wanton Eldren bitch awaits you.”
    “Iolinda—you are unfair.”
    She was unfair—but, to some degree, she spoke from knowledge of my true position.
    “And you are a traitor! Guards!” she called and, as if they had already been told what to do, a dozen of the Imperial Guards rushed in, led by their captain, Katorn. There was a hint of triumph in his eyes and then, at once, I knew why we had never liked one another—he desired Iolinda!
    It was an instinctive knowledge—but I knew then that whether I drew my sword or not he would slay me.
    I drew my sword.
    “Take him, Katorn!” cried Iolinda. “Take him—alive or dead, he is a traitor to his kind!”
    “It’s untrue,” I said, as Katorn advanced cautiously, his men spreading out behind him. I backed to a wall, near a window. The throne room was on the first storey of the palace. Outside were the private gardens of the queen. “Think, Iolinda—retract your command. You are driven by jealousy. I’m no traitor.”
    “
Slay him, Katorn!
”
    But I slew Katorn. As he came rushing at me, my sword flicked across his face. He screamed, staggered, his hands rushed up to his head and then he toppled in his golden armour, toppled and fell with a crash to the ground.
    The other guards came on, but more warily. I fought off their blades, slew a couple, drove the others back, glimpsed Iolinda watching me, leapt to the sill of the window.
    “Goodbye, Queen. You have lost your champion now.” I jumped.
    I landed in a rose-bush that ripped at my skin, broke free and ran hastily towards the gate of the garden, the guards behind me.
    I tore the gate open and found myself in a deserted alley. I ran down the twisting streets of Necranal with the guards in pursuit, their ranks joined by a howling pack of the townspeople who had no idea why I was wanted. They chased me for the sheer animal pleasure of the hunt.
    I ran blindly at first, and then towards the river. My crew, I hoped, still retained their loyalty to me. If they did there was a faint chance of escape. I gained the ship just before my pursuers. I leapt aboard screaming:
    “Prepare to sail!”
    Only half the crew was aboard, the others were on shore leave, but these hurriedly shipped out the oars while we held the guards and the citizens at bay. We shoved off and began a hasty flight down the Droonaa