Read Online The Bull and the Spear - 05 by Michael Moorcock - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Moorcock
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never dispersing) that he might have been deceived. If he had actually seen the outline of a Fhoi Myore, then there was no doubt that they were considerably taller than Man and probably not of the same race at all. Yet where could these others, who were not Vadhagh, Nhadragh or Mabden, have come from? This had puzzled Corum ever since his first conversation with King Mannach.
"The hounds! 'Ware the hounds!" a warrior shouted as he was borne backward by a gleaming white shape which had flown silently at him from out of the mist. Hound and man went together off the walls and fell with a terrific crack into the street below.
Only the hound got up, its jaws full of the warrior's flesh. It grinned, turned and loped into the street. Barely thinking, Corum flung his sword at it and struck it in the side. It shrieked and tried to snap at the sword protruding from between its ribs, just as a puppy might chase its own tail. Four or five rotations the great hound made before it understood that it was dead.
Corum bounded down the steps to the street to retrieve his sword. He had never seen such monstrous dogs before, neither could he understand their strange coloring, which was like nothing else in nature he had ever seen. With distaste he tugged his blade free from the massive carcass, wiping the blood on the pale, coarse fur. Then he ran back up the steps to take his place on the wall.
For the first time he noticed the stink. It was definitely a canine stink, like the smell of wet, dirty hair, but for a few seconds at a time it could be almost overpowering. With the mist attacking eyes and mouths and the stink of the hounds attacking their nostrils, the defenders were hard-pressed to accomplish their work. Dogs were on the walls now in several places and four warriors lay with their throats torn out, while two of the Hounds of Kerenos were also dead, one with its head hacked clean off.
Corum was beginning to tire and judged that the others must also be wearying. In an ordinary battle they would have had every right to be exhausted by now. Here, however, they did not fight men but beasts, and the allies of the beasts were the elements themselves.
Corum leaped to one side as a hound—one of the largest he had so far seen—cleared the battlements behind him and landed on the platform beyond, hissing and panting, its eyes rolling, its tongue lolling, its fangs dripping. The smell choked Comm. It issued from the mouth of the beast—a fetid, unhealthy smell. Growling softly, the hound gathered itself to attack Corum, the strange red ears lying flat against the tapering skull.
Corum shouted something, grabbed up his own long-hafted war-axe from where he had kept it by the wall, and whirling this weapon, ran at the hound.
The hound cringed perceptibly as the blade flashed over its white head. Its tail began to sink between its legs before it realized that it was considerably heavier and stronger than Corum and drew back its lips in a snarl exposing teeth some twelve inches long.
Bringing the war-axe round for a second swing, Corum was caught off balance and the hound charged before the axe could come back. Corum had to take three rapid paces away from the beast as it flung itself at him, to allow the axe to continue its swing and thud into the hound's hind-leg, crippling it but not stopping it. Corum was close to the edge and knew that a leap might break his legs at very least. One more step backward would be enough to send him falling into the street. There was only one thing he could do. As the hound charged at him, he sidestepped and ducked, and the dog went sailing past him, smashing headfirst onto the cobbles and breaking its neck.
Now the noise of battle came from every part of the fortress, for several Hounds of Kerenos had gained access to the streets and were roaming them, sniffing for the old women and children who huddled behind the barricaded doors.
Medhbh, King Mannach's
"The hounds! 'Ware the hounds!" a warrior shouted as he was borne backward by a gleaming white shape which had flown silently at him from out of the mist. Hound and man went together off the walls and fell with a terrific crack into the street below.
Only the hound got up, its jaws full of the warrior's flesh. It grinned, turned and loped into the street. Barely thinking, Corum flung his sword at it and struck it in the side. It shrieked and tried to snap at the sword protruding from between its ribs, just as a puppy might chase its own tail. Four or five rotations the great hound made before it understood that it was dead.
Corum bounded down the steps to the street to retrieve his sword. He had never seen such monstrous dogs before, neither could he understand their strange coloring, which was like nothing else in nature he had ever seen. With distaste he tugged his blade free from the massive carcass, wiping the blood on the pale, coarse fur. Then he ran back up the steps to take his place on the wall.
For the first time he noticed the stink. It was definitely a canine stink, like the smell of wet, dirty hair, but for a few seconds at a time it could be almost overpowering. With the mist attacking eyes and mouths and the stink of the hounds attacking their nostrils, the defenders were hard-pressed to accomplish their work. Dogs were on the walls now in several places and four warriors lay with their throats torn out, while two of the Hounds of Kerenos were also dead, one with its head hacked clean off.
Corum was beginning to tire and judged that the others must also be wearying. In an ordinary battle they would have had every right to be exhausted by now. Here, however, they did not fight men but beasts, and the allies of the beasts were the elements themselves.
Corum leaped to one side as a hound—one of the largest he had so far seen—cleared the battlements behind him and landed on the platform beyond, hissing and panting, its eyes rolling, its tongue lolling, its fangs dripping. The smell choked Comm. It issued from the mouth of the beast—a fetid, unhealthy smell. Growling softly, the hound gathered itself to attack Corum, the strange red ears lying flat against the tapering skull.
Corum shouted something, grabbed up his own long-hafted war-axe from where he had kept it by the wall, and whirling this weapon, ran at the hound.
The hound cringed perceptibly as the blade flashed over its white head. Its tail began to sink between its legs before it realized that it was considerably heavier and stronger than Corum and drew back its lips in a snarl exposing teeth some twelve inches long.
Bringing the war-axe round for a second swing, Corum was caught off balance and the hound charged before the axe could come back. Corum had to take three rapid paces away from the beast as it flung itself at him, to allow the axe to continue its swing and thud into the hound's hind-leg, crippling it but not stopping it. Corum was close to the edge and knew that a leap might break his legs at very least. One more step backward would be enough to send him falling into the street. There was only one thing he could do. As the hound charged at him, he sidestepped and ducked, and the dog went sailing past him, smashing headfirst onto the cobbles and breaking its neck.
Now the noise of battle came from every part of the fortress, for several Hounds of Kerenos had gained access to the streets and were roaming them, sniffing for the old women and children who huddled behind the barricaded doors.
Medhbh, King Mannach's
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