Masters Of The Pit by Michael Moorcock

Author:Michael Moorcock [Moorcock, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

THE PEOPLE OF PURHA

I MUST have walked for many shatis - the Martian basic measure of time - crossing the rocky plain where Rokin had crashed to his death, and entering the next stretch of the forest before I heard some sign of life.

It was a crashing noise in the undergrowth.

It was the sound of some large beast moving about.

Deciding to be cautious, I drew my sword and withdrew into the shade of a bole.

Suddenly, from out of the forest, came yet another weird sight - again almost unbelievable, though this time because the creature bore such a peculiar resemblance to an earthly animal.

The animal that I confronted, and whose gleaming eyes had fixed on me in spite of my attempt at seeking cover, was almost identical to an earth vole.

But this vole was large. It was very large.

It was the size of a half-grown elephant.

And it was hungry - and doubtless omnivorous.

It stood hunched up, regarding me with its nose twitching and its eyes glittering, preparing perhaps for a spring.

I was so weary, what with my experiences since Cend-Amrid and the walking I had done to get this far, that I gave myself only a faint chance of having the strength to defeat the giant vole.

Suddenly, with a peculiar shrill scream, the creature rushed at me. I ducked behind the tree and this seemed to confuse it for a moment.

It plainly was not particularly intelligent, which relieved me - a little - though its bulk, I felt, would be more to its advantage in my present state of weariness than my wits would be tome.

For a moment it paused. Then it began to edge round the tree again.

I edged, also, following the trunk of the tree and keeping it between myself and the gigantic creature that was doubtless bent on making a supper from me.

Suddenly it made a movement towards the tree, flinging its huge body at it. The tree groaned and swayed and I was spun backwards, lying helplessly, for a moment, on the ground.

I began to scramble up as the vole came towards me, its relatively small jaws open ready to seize me in a bite that would have severed any part of my body it snapped.

I slashed at the muzzle with my sword, staggering wearily, my vision focusing and unfocusing as I strove to gather what little strength I had left.

The teeth only narrowly missed. I could not run, for the massive creature was faster than I was, and I knew I would not be able to hold it off much longer.

I knew that I was going to die.

Perhaps this knowledge helped me summon my last reserves of strength, and I slashed again at the muzzle, drawing blood. The creature seemed puzzled but it did not retreat, simply holding its ground while it decided how best to attack me.

Again I swayed with utter tiredness, striving with everything I had left to remain on my feet and die fighting.

Then, from above and behind the creature, a

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