“NO! YOU HAVE MADE ME DISPEL THE VOICES - MY VOICES - MY PETS! I MUST BEGIN
AFRESH TO COLLECT MY CHOIR! YOU HAVE MADE ME BANISH THEM! COME BACK! COME
BACK!”
And the creature grew even taller as they ran all the faster, its watery hands reaching out for them.
Then, suddenly, with a scream, it began to tumble back into the lake, no longer able to sustain its shape. They watched it fall, they watched it writhe and gesticulate in anger and then it was gone and the lake was the peaceful stretch of blue water they had first seen.
But this time there were no voices. The souls were still. By accident the three had made the creature tell its captives to be silent and had evidently broken the spell which it had had over them.
Corum sighed and sat down on the grass. “It is over,” he said. “And all those poor spirits are at rest now ...”
He smiled at the expression of panic on the cat’s face and he realized how much more horrifying their last experience had been to the little animal.
Then, when they had rested, they climbed the hill and looked down upon a desert.
It was a brown desert and through it ran a river. But it seemed that the river was not of water. It was white, like pure milk, and it was wide and it wandered lazily through the brown landscape.
Corum sighed. “It seems to go on forever.”
“Look,” said Rhalina and she pointed. “Look, a rider!”
Mounting the brow of a hill and coming towards them was a man on a horse. He was slumped in the saddle and plainly had not seen them, but Corum drew his sword nonetheless, and the others drew theirs. The horse moved slowly, plodding on as if it had been walking for days.
They saw that the rider, dressed in patched and battered leather, was asleep in his saddle, a broadsword hanging by a thong from his right wrist, his left hand gripping the reins of the horse. He had a haggard face which gave no indication of his age, a great hooked nose and untrimmed hair and beard. He seemed a poor man, yet hanging on his saddle pommel was a crown which, though coated with dust, was plainly of gold studded with many precious gems.
“Is he a thief?” Rhalina wondered. “Has he stolen that crown and is trying to escape those who own it?”
When it was a few feet from them the horse stopped suddenly and looked at them with large, weary eyes. Then it bent and began to crop the grass.
At this the rider stirred. He opened his eyes. He rubbed them. He, too, peered at them and then seemed to ignore them. He mumbled to himself.
“Greetings, sir,” said Corum.
The gaunt man screwed up his eyes and looked at Corum again. He reached down behind him for a water bottle, unstoppered it and flung back his head to drink deeply. Then, deliberately, he put the stopper back into the bottle and replaced the thing behind him.
“Greetings,” said Corum again.
The mounted man nodded at him. “Aye,” he said.
“From where do you travel, sir?” Jhary asked. “We ourselves are lost and would appreciate some indication of what, for instance, lies beyond that brown waste there...”
The man sighed and looked at the waste, at the white, winding river.
“That is the Blood Plain,” he said. “The river is called the White River - or by some the Milk River, though it is not milk...”
“Why the Blood Plain?” Rhalina asked.
The man stretched and frowned. “Because, madam, it is a plain and it is covered in blood. That brown dust is dried blood - blood spilled an age since in some forgotten battle between Law and Chaos, I understand.”
“And what lies beyond it?” Corum said.
“Many things - none that are pleasant. There is nothing that is pleasant in this world since Chaos conquered it.”
“You are not on the side of Chaos?”
“Why should I be? Chaos dispossessed me. Chaos exiled me. Chaos would have me dead, but I move all the while and have not been found yet. One day, perhaps.
. .”
Jhary introduced his friends and then himself. “We seek a place called the City in the Pyramid,” he told the haggard rider.
The rider laughed. “As do I. But I cannot believe it exists! I think Chaos pretends such a place resists it to offer hope to its enemies so that it may give them still more pain. I am called, sir, the King Without a Country.
Noreg-Dan was once my name and I ruled a fair land and, I think, I ruled it wisely. But Chaos came and Chaos minions destroyed my nation and my subjects and left me alive to wander the world seeking a mythical city...”
“So you have no faith in the City in the Pyramid?”
“I have not found it thus far.”
“Could it lie beyond the Blood Plain?” Corum asked.
“It could, but I’m not fool enough to cross it for it could be endless and you, on foot, would have a smaller chance than would I. I am not without courage,” said King Noreg-Dan, “but I still retain a little common sense. If there was wood in these parts, perhaps it would be possible to build a boat and hope to cross the desert by means of the White River, but there is no wood...”
“But there is a boat,” said Jhary-a-Conel.
“Would it be wise to go back to the Lake of Voices?” Rhalina cautioned.
“The Lake of Voices!” King Noreg-Dan shook his tangled head. “Do not go there
- the voices will draw you in...”
Corum explained what had happened and the King Without a Country listened intently. Then he smiled and it was a smile of admiration. He dismounted from his horse and came close to Corum, inspecting him. “You’re a strange-looking creature, sir, with your hand and your eye-patch and your odd armour, but you are a hero and I congratulate you - all of you.” He addressed the others. “I’d say it would be worth a foray down to the beach and recover old Freenshak’s boat - we could use my horse to haul it up here!”
“Freenshak?” Jhary said.
“One of the names of the creature you encountered. A particularly powerful water sprite which came when Xiombarg began her reign. Shall we try to get the boat?”
“Aye,” grinned Corum. “We’ll try.”
Somewhat nervously they returned to the lake shore, but it seemed that Freenshak was beaten for the moment and they had no difficulty in harnessing the tired horse to the boat and pulling it up the hill and halfway down the other side. In a locker Corum found a sail and saw that a short mast was stowed in lugs along one side of the boat.
As they prepared the boat he said to King Noreg-Dan, “But what of your horse?
There’ll not be room...”
Noreg-Dan drew a deep breath. “It will be a shame, but I will have to abandon him. I think he will be safer alone than with me and, besides, he deserves a rest, for he has served me faithfully since I was forced to flee my land.”
Noreg-Dan stripped the horse of its harness and put it in the boat. Then they began the hard task of dragging the vessel down the hill and across the brown, choking dust (all the more unpleasant now that they knew what the dust was) until they reached the nearest shore of the White River. The horse stood watching them from the hillside and then it turned away. Noreg-Dan lowered his head and folded his arms.
And still the sun had not moved across the sky and they had no means of knowing how much time had passed.
The liquid of the river was thicker than water and Noreg-Dan advised them not to touch it.
“It can have a corrosive effect on the skin,” he said.
“But what is the stuff?” Rhalina asked as they pushed off and raised the sail. “Will it not rot the boat if it will rot our skin?”
“Aye,” said the King Without a Country. “Eventually. We must hope we cross the desert before that happens.” He looked back once more to where he had left his horse, but the horse had disappeared. “Some say that while the dust is the dried blood of mortals, the White River is the blood of the Great Old Gods which was spilled in the battle and which will not dry”.
Rhalina pointed to the hills
ide from which the river appeared. “But that cannot be - it comes from somewhere and it goes somewhere...”
“Apparently,” said Noreg-Dan.
“Apparently?”
“This land is ruled by Chaos,” he reminded her.
A light breeze was blowing now and Corum raised the sail. The boat began to move more quickly and soon the hills were out of sight and there was nothing to be seen but the Blood Plain stretching to every horizon.
Rhalina slept for a long while and, in turns, the others slept also, there being little else to do. But when Rhalina awoke for the third time and still saw the Blood Plain, she murmured to herself: “So much blood spilled. So much...”
And still the boat sailed on down the milk-white river while Noreg-Dan told them something of what Xiombarg’s reign had brought to this Domain.
“All creatures not loyal to Chaos were destroyed or else, like me, had jokes played upon them - the Sword Rulers are notorious for their jokes. Every degenerate and vicious impulse in mortals was let loose and horror fell upon this world. My wife, my children were...” He broke off. “All of us suffered.
But whether this took place a year ago or a hundred, I know not, for it was part of Xiombarg’s joke to stop the sun so that we should not know how much time passed...”
“If Xiombarg’s rule began at the same time as Arioch’s,” Corum said, “then it was much more than one century, King Noreg-Dan...”
“Xiombarg appears to have abolished Time on this plane,” Jhary put it.
“Relatively speaking, of course. What happened here happened at whatever time people agreed upon.
“As you say,” Corum nodded. “But tell us what you have heard of the City in the Pyramid, King Noreg-Dan.”
“It was not originally of this plane at all, I gather - though it existed on one of the Five Planes now ruled by Xiombarg. In its seeking to escape Chaos, it moved from one plane to another, but eventually it was forced to stop and merely be content with protecting itself against Queen Xiombarg’s attacks.
She has spent, I hear, much of her energy on those attacks. Perhaps that is why I and the few like me are still allowed to exist. I do not know.”
“There are others?”
“Aye, other wanderers such as myself. Or, at least, there were. Perhaps Xiombarg has found them now...”
“Or perhaps they found the City in the Pyramid.”
“Possibly.”
“Xiombarg concentrates on watching events in the next Realm,” Jhary said knowledgeably. “She wants to see the outcome of the battle between the Chaos minions and those who serve Law.”
“Just as well for you, Prince Corum,” said Noreg-Dan. “For if she knew the destroyer of her brother was actually where she could destroy him herself...”
“We’ll not speak of that,” said Corum.
On and on went the White River and they began to think that perhaps it and the Blood Plain were, indeed, without end, as this world was without Time.
“Is there a name for the City in the Pyramid?” Jhary asked.
“You think it might be your Tanelorn?” Rhalina said.
He grinned and shook his head. “No. I know Tanelorn and that description would not, I think, fit it.”
“Some say it is built within a huge, featureless pyramid,” Noreg-Dan told him. “Others say it is merely a pyramid shape, like a great zigarut. There are many myths, I fear, concerning the city.”
“I do not think I have encountered such a city on my travels,” Jhary said.
“It sounds to me,” said Corum, “as if it resembles one of the great Sky Cities, such as the one which crashed over the Plain of Broggfythus during the last great battle between the Vadhagh and the Nhadragh. They exist in our legends and I know that one, at least, was real, for the wreckage used to be near Castle Erorn where I was born. Both Vadhagh and Nhadragh had these cities,
which were capable of moving through the planes. But when that phase of our history was over, they disappeared and we began to live more contentedly in our castles...” He stopped himself from continuing that theme, for it only brought back the bitterness. “It might be such a city,” he said rather lamely.
“I think we had better land this craft,” said Jhary cheerfully.
“Why?” Corum’s back was to the prow.
“Because the White River and the Blood Plain seem to have ended.”
Corum looked and was instantly alert. They were heading for a cliff. The plain ended as if sliced off by a gigantic knife and the liquid of the White River was hurtling into the abyss.
The Third Chapter
Beasts of the Abyss
Now the White River foamed wildly and roared as it rushed over the brink.
Corum and Jhary dragged the oars free and used them to steer the rocking boat towards the bank.
“Be ready to jump, Rhalina!” Corum yelled.
She stood upright, holding on to the mast. King Noreg-Dan steadied her.
The boat danced out into midstream again and then, as suddenly, swerved back towards the bank as another current caught it. Corum. staggered and almost fell overboard as he manipulated the oar. The sound of the torrent almost drowned their voices. The abyss was much closer and it would not be much longer before they were all hurled over it. Dimly, through the spray, Corum saw the distant wall of the far cliff. It must have been a mile away at least.
Then the boat scraped the bank and Corum yelled:
“Jump, Rhalina!”
And she jumped with Noreg-Dan leaping after her, his arms waving. She landed in the blood-dust and fell, sprawling.
Jhary jumped next. But the boat was turning out into the centre of the river again. He landed in the shallows and struggled towards the bank, shouting at Corum.
Corum remembered Noreg-Dan’s warning about the properties of the white liquid, but there was nothing for it but to leap in, his mouth tight shut, and flounder for the bank, his armour dragging him down.
But the weight of the armour fought the current and his feet touched the bottom. Shuddering he climbed to the land, white droplets of liquid oozing down his body.
He lay panting on the bank and watched as the boat reared on the edge of the abyss and then fell from sight.
They staggered away from the White River, following the edge of the gorge, ankle-deep in the brown dust, and when the roar of the torrent had grown fainter they paused and tried to assess their situation.
The abyss seemed endless. It stretched to both horizons, its edges straight and its sides sheer, so that it was plain that it had not been created naturally. It was as if some gigantic canal had been planned to flow between the cliffs - a mile-wide canal, a mile deep.
They stood on the brink and looked down into the abyss. Corum felt vertigo seize him and he took a step backwards. The sides of the cliff were of the same dark obsidian as the mountains they had left earlier, but these sides were utterly smooth. Far, far below a yellowish vapour writhed, obscuring the bottom - if any bottom there were. The four people felt completely dwarfed by the vastness of the scene. They looked backwards across the Blood Plain. It was featureless, endless. They tried to make out details of the opposite cliff, but it was too distant.
A faint mist obscured the sun which still stood at noon above them.
The little figures began to tramp along the edge, through the blood-dust, away from the White River.
Eventually Corum spoke to Noreg-Dan. “Have you heard of this place before, King Noreg-Dan?”
He shook his head. “I never knew what really lay beyond the Blood Plain, but I did not expect this. Perhaps it is new...”
“New?” Rhalina looked curiously at him. “What do you mean?”
“Chaos is forever altering the landscape, playing new tricks with it -
playing new jokes. Perhaps Queen Xiombarg knows that we are here. Perhaps she is playing a game with us...”
Jhary stroked his cat between its ears. “It would be like a Queen of Chaos to do such a thing, yet I suspec
t she would have planned worse than this for the destroyer of her brother.”
“This could be just the beginning,” Rhalina pointed out. “She could be building up to her true vengeance...”
“But I think not,” Jhary insisted. “I have fought against Chaos in many worlds and in many guises and one thing that they are is impetuous. I think she would have acknowledged what she was doing by now if she knew who Prince Corum was. No, she still concentrates on the events taking place in the Realm we have left. That is not to say we are not in danger,” he added with a faint smile.
“In danger of starving again,” Corum said. “If nothing else. This place is the most barren of all - and there is no way down, no way across, no way back. . .”
“We must keep moving until we do find a way down or a way across,” Rhalina told him. “Surely the abyss must end somewhere?”
“Possibly,” said Noreg-Dan, rubbing at his gaunt face, “but I remind you again that this is a Realm completely ruled by Chaos. From what you have told me of Arioch’s Realm, he never wielded the power which Xiombarg wields - he was the least of the Sword Rulers. It is said that Mabelode, the King of the Swords, is even more powerful than she - that he has created of his Realm a constantly shifting substance which changes shape more swiftly than thought...”
“Then I pray we are never forced to visit Mabelode,” Jhary murmured. “This situation is sufficiently terrifying for me. I have witnessed Total Chaos and I like it not at all.”
They tramped on beside the unchanging edge of the abyss.
Lost in a daze of weariness and monotony Corum only gradually began to realize that the sky was darkening. He looked up. Was the sun moving?
But the sun seemed to be in the same position. Instead, an eddy of black cloud had risen from somewhere and was streaming across the sky, heading towards the far side of the abyss. He had no means of knowing whether this were some sorcerous manifestation or if it were natural. He stopped. It had grown colder. Now the others noticed the clouds.
Noreg-Dan’s eyes held trepidation. He drew his cracked leather coat about him and licked his bearded lips.
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