Free Mad Moon of Dreams by Brian Lumley Page A

me by descending to the desert whence you came. We will follow you down.”
    After a slight pause, back came an answer in the guttural accents of Leng. “Ahoy, Dass of Serannian. This is free airspace. Your actions border on piracy. Leave us in peace and begone!”
    â€œBegone?” Limnar sputtered, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Begone?” He returned his lips to the hailer and roared, “Listen, you lippy Lengite! Land on the desert at once, or by all that’s holy I’ll—”
    A puff of smoke erupted from a cannon’s muzzle where it projected from one of the black galley’s ports. More puffs followed suit, all along the side of the black ship. An instant later there came the roar of the cannonade, and at the same time Gnorri II shuddered as she was hit by two or three of the balls. Part of the stern rail shattered and leaped skyward where a fourth shot struck home.
    â€œConventional cannon!” roared Eldin, reeling at the rail as the ship rocked.
    â€œTheirs may be,” raged Limnar, “but mine are not!” And to the gunners he roared: “Return fire!”
    Gnorri’s cannon opened up on the instant, their balls chewing gaping holes in the black galley’s substructure. And out from these holes poured a swirling green gas, a vapor which every man aboard Gnorri II remembered from the war against Zura. For this was that gas which neutralized a skyship’s flotation essence, denying her aerial buoyancy. Gnorri II ’s cannon balls were filled with the stuff under pressure; they were designed to fragment within a ship’s hull, rupturing the enemy’s flotation bags and destroying her essence.
    More shots found their mark, until the black ship staggered from their impact. Her hull was now full of green gas, and such was its efficacy that already she was listing badly to port. She fired back, but lying at an angle as she was her gunners were faced with an impossible task. Their shots whistled harmlessly overhead.

    â€œShe’s going!” Limnar yelled. “One more volley, now … fire !” And again the black ship shuddered as fresh holes appeared in her flank. Then, suddenly, her stern dipped steeply and she began to spiral down out of the sky. Members of her almost-human crew could be seen sliding down the tilting decks and falling like ants from the rigging. Her altitude was not great, however, and her spiralling descent more a glide than a fall proper. In less than a minute her twisting mass struck the desert in an explosion of planks and a snapping of masts, and the screams of her crew could plainly be heard echoing up on the desert’s thermals.
    Then, as Gnorri II began her own far more leisurely descent, scuttling figures could be seen running (and some limping) from the wreck of the Leng ship and hurrying off into the desert to hide. Seeing these refugees of the wreck, Gytherik turned to Gnorri ’s captain.
    â€œHold it, Limnar,” he said. “No need to go any lower than this. Sniffer here can seek out a couple of horned ones for us, and the rest of the grim can bring ’em back alive for questioning.” He went to the gaunts, grunted and gestured, and in another moment the grim was airborne and falling like a flock of leathery vultures to the floor of the desert. There Sniffer did his work with dispatch, and in a very short time a pair of struggling, fearful almost-humans were deposited none too gently on Gnorri II’s deck.
    â€œIt’s question and answer time,” Eldin growled low in his throat. “And if no one objects, I think I’ll ask the questions!”

CHAPTER IX
    Eldin: Inquisitor
    â€œYou know,” said Hero in a quiet aside to Limnar and Gytherik, “it’s a funny thing, but of all dreamland’s unhuman creatures and beings, I reckon these almost-humans are just about the most obnoxious. I mean, I’m even learning to appreciate gaunts—a little.