Yishana's army was fighting bravely, but its discipline was lost It must regroup if it was to be most effective.
«Recall the cavalry! » Elric yelled. «Recall the cavalry! »
The young herald looked up. He was badly pressed by two Devil Riders. His attention diverted, he was skewered on a Devil Rider's blade and shrieked as the two men butchered him.
Cursing. Elric rode closer and struck one of the attackers in the side of the head. The man toppled and fell into the churned mud of the field. The other Rider turned, only to meet howling Stormbringer's point, and he died yelling, - the runeblade drank his soul.
The herald, still mounted, was dead in the saddle, his body a mass of cuts. Elric leaned forward, tearing the bloody horn from around the corpse's neck. Placing it to his lips, he sounded the Cavalry Recall and caught a glimpse of horsemen turning. Now he saw the standard itself begin to fan and realised that the standard-bearer was slain. He rose in the saddle and grasped the pole which bore the bright flag of Jharkor and, with this in one band, the horn at his lips, attempted to rally his forces.
Slowly, the remnants of the battered army gathered around him. Then Elric, taking control of the battle, did the only thing he could-took the sole course of action which might save the day.
He sounded a long, wailing note on the horn. In response to this, he heard the beating of heavy wings as the men of Myyrrhn rose into the air.
Observing this, the enemy released the traps of the mysterious cages.
Elric groaned with despair.
A weird hooting preceded the sight of giant owls, thought extinct even in Myyrrhn the land of their origin, circling skyward.
The enemy had prepared against a threat from the air and, by some means, had produced the age-old enemies of the men of Myyrrhn.
Only slightly daunted by this unexpected sight, the men of Myyrrhn, armed with long spears, attacked the great birds. The embattled warriors on the ground were showered with blood and feathers. Corpses of men and birds began to flop downwards, crushing infantry and cavalry beneath them.
Through this confusion, Elric and the White Leopards of Yishana cut their way into the enemy to join up with Dyvim Slorm and his Imrryrians, the remnants of the Tarkeshite cavalry and about a hundred Shazarians. who had survived. Looking upward, Elric saw that most of the great owls were destroyed, but only a handful of the men of Myyrrhn had survived the fight in the air. These, having done what they could against the owls, were themselves circling about preparing to leave the battle. Obviously they realised the hopelessness of it all.
Elric cried to Dyvim Slorm as their forces joined: «The battle's lost-Sarosto and Jagreen Lern rule here now! »
Dyvim Slorm hefted his longsword in his hand and gave Elric a look of assent «If we're to live to keep our destiny. we'd best make speed away from here! « he cried. There was little more they could do.
«Zarozinia's life is more important to me than anything else! » Elric yelled. «Let's look to our own predicament! »
But the weight of the enemy forces was like a vice, crushing Elric and his men. Blood covered Elric's face from a blow he had received on the forehead. It clogged his eyes so that he had to keep raising his left hand to his face to get rid of the stuff.
His right arm ached as he lifted Stormbringer again and again, hacking and stabbing about him, desperate now, for although the dreadful blade had a life, almost an intelligence, of its own, even it could not supply the vitality which Elric needed to remain entirely fresh. In a way he was glad, for he hated the runesword, though he had to depend on the force which flowed from it to him.
Stormbringer more than slew Elric's attackers-it drank their souls, and some of that life force was passed on to the Melnibonean monarch...
Now the ranks or the enemy fell back and seemed to open.
Through this self-made breech, animals came running. Animals with gleaming eyes and red, fang-filled jaws. Animals with claws.
The hunting tigers of Pan Tang.
Horses screamed as the tigers leapt and rended them, tearing down mount and man and slashing at the throats of their victims. The tigers raised bloody snouts and stared around for a new prey. Terrified, many of Elric's small force fell back shouting. Most of the Tarkeshite knights broke and fled the field, precipitating the flight of the Jharkorians whose maddened horses bore them away and were soon followed by the few remaining Shazarians still mounted. Soon only Elric, his Imrryrians and about forty White Leopards stood against the might of DhariJor and Pan Tang.
Elric raised his horn and sounded the Retreat, wheeled his black steed about and raced up the valley. Imrryrians behind him. But the White Leopards fought on to the last - Yishana had said that they knew nothing but how to kill. Evidently they also knew how to die. Elric and Dyvim Slorm led the Imrryrians up the valley, half-thankful that the white Leopards covered their retreat The Melnibonean had seen nothing of Yishana since he had clashed with Jagreen Lern. He wondered what had become of her.
As they turned a bend in the valley. Brie understood the foil battle-plan of Jagreen Lern and his ally-for a strong, fresh force of foot-soldiers and cavalry had assembled at the other end of the valley, for the purpose of cutting off any retreat made by his army.
Scarcely thinking, Elric urged his horse up the slopes of the hills, his men following, ducking beneath the low branches of the birch trees as the Dharijoriana rushed towards them, spreading out to cut off their escape.
Elric fumed his horse about and saw that the White Leopards were still fighting around the standard of Jharkor and he headed back in that direction, keeping to the hills. Over the crest of the hills he rode, Dyvim Slorm and a handful of Imrryrians with him, and then they were galloping for open countryside while the knights of Dharijor and Pan Tang gave chase. They had obviously recognised Elric and wished either to kill or to capture him. Ahead Elric could see that the Tarkeshites, Shazarians and Jharkorians who had earlier fled had taken the same route out as he had. But they no longer rode together, were scattering away.
Elric and Dyvim Slorm fled westwards across unknown country while the other Imrryrians to take attention off their leaders, rode to the north east towards Tarkesh and perhaps a few days of safety.
The battle was won. The minions of evil were the victors and an age of terror had settled on the lands of the Young Kingdoms in the west.
Some days later, Elric. Dyvim Slorm, two hurryrians, a Tarkeshite commander called Yedn-pad-Juizev, badly wounded in the side, and a Shazarian foot - soldier, Orion, who had taken a horse away from the battle, were temporarily safe from pursuit and were trudging their horses wearily towards a range of slim-peaked mountains which loomed black against the red evening sky.
They had not spoken for some hours. Yedn-pad-Juizev was obviously dying and they could do nothing for him. He knew this also and expected nothing, merely rode with them for company. He was very tall for a Tarkeshite, his scarlet plume still bobbing on his dented blue-metal helmet, his breastplate scarred and smeared with his own blood and others. His beard was black and shiny with oil, his nose a jutting crag on the rock of his soldier's face, his eyes half-gazed. He was bearing the pain well. Though they were impatient to reach the comparative safety of the mountain range, the others notched their pace to his, half in respect and half in fascination that a man could cling to life for so long. Night came and a great yellow moon hung in the sky over the mountains. The sky was completely clear of cloud and stars shone brightly. The warriors wished that the night had been dark, storm-covered, for they could have then some more security in the shadows - as it was the night was lighted and they could only hope that they reached the mountains soon - before the hunting tigers of Pan Tang discovered their tracks and they died under the rending claws of those dreadful beasts.