land free of the Vadhagh vermin and all who allied themselves with them, who helped conquer the Nhadragh Isles. And I am a Brother of the Dog, a Son of the Horned Bear, a servant of the Lords of Chaos!”
King Lyr nodded. “I know thee, Glandyth. A loyal sword.”
Glandyth bowed.
There was a pause.
Then, “Speak,” said the king.
“There is one of the Shefanhow creatures who escapes your justice, my king. Just one Vadhagh who still lives.” Glandyth tugged the thong of his jerkin which showed over the top of his breastplate. He reached inside and brought out two things which hung by a string around his neck. One of the things was a withered, mummified hand. The other was a small leather pouch. He displayed them. “This is the hand I cut from the Vadhagh and here, in this sack, is his eye. He took refuge in the castle which lies at the far western shore of your land—the castle called Moidel. A Mabden woman possessed that castle—she is the Margravine Rhalina-a-Allomglyl and she serves that land of traitors, Lywm-an-Esh—that land which you now plan to crush because it refuses to support our cause.”
“All this you have told me,” King Lyr replied. “And you have told me of the monstrous sorcery used to thwart your attack upon that castle. Speak on.”
“I would march again to Castle Moidel, for I have learned that the Shefanhow Corum and the traitress Rhalina have returned there, thinking themselves safe from your justice.”
“All our armies go westward,” Lyr told him. “All our strength is aimed at the destruction of Lywm-an-Esh. Castle Moidel will fall in our passing.”
“The boon I beg is that I be the instrument of that fall, my liege.”
“You are one of our greatest captains, Earl Glandyth, we would use you and your Denledhyssi in a main engagement.”
“While Corum lives, commanding sorcery, our cause is much threatened. I speak truly, great king. He is a powerful enemy—perhaps more powerful than the whole land of Lywm-an-Esh. It will take much to destroy him.”
“One maimed Shefanhow? How is this so?”
“He has made an alliance with Law. I have proof. One of my Nhadragh lackeys has used its second sight and seen clear.”
“Where is the Nhadragh?”
“He is without, my liege. I would not bring the vile creature into your hall without your permission.”
“Bring him now.”
All the bearded warriors stared towards the door with a mixture of disgust and curiosity. Only the Grim Guard did not turn its gaze. King Lyr reseated himself on his throne and gestured with his cup for more wine.
The doors were opened and a dim shape was revealed. Though it had the outline of a man it was not a man. The ranks broke as it began to shuffle forward.
It had dark, flat features and the hair of its head grew down its forehead to meet at a peak just below the eyebrows. It was dressed in a jacket and breeks of sealskin. Its stance was servile, nervous and it bowed frequently as it moved towards the waiting Glandyth.
King Lyr-a-Brode’s lips curled in nausea. He gestured at Glandyth. “Make this thing speak and then make it leave.”
Glandyth reached out and seized the Nhadragh by his coarse hair. “Now, filth, tell my king what you saw with your degenerate senses!”
The Nhadragh opened its mouth and stuttered.
“Speak! Quickly!”
“I—I saw into other planes than this…”
“You saw into Yffarn—into hell?” King Lyr murmured in horror.
“Into other planes…” The Nhadragh looked shiftily about him and agreed hastily. “Aye, then—into Yffarn. I saw a creature there which I cannot describe, but I spoke with it for a brief time. It—told me that Lord Arioch of Chaos…”
“He means the Sword Ruler,” Glandyth explained. “He means Arag the Great Old God.”
“It told me that Arioch—Arag—had been slain by Corum Jhaelen Irsei of the Vadhagh and that Lord Arkyn of Law now ruled these five planes again…” The Nhadragh’s voice trailed off.
“Tell my king