Queen Sough called from behind them. "They have not attacked you. They only threaten. Is this the true thing you must do?"
"It's our only choice, Queen Sough!" cried Elric over his shoulder, and feinted at two more of the half-human things.
"No! No! It is not heroic. What can the guardian do, who is no longer a hero?"
Even Oone could not follow this and when Elric met her eye in a question she shook her head.
The rabble was gaining some confidence now, closing in. Snouts sniffed at them. Tongues licked saliva from slack lips. Hot, duly eyes full of blood and pus squinted their hatred.
Then they had begun to close and Elric felt his blade meet resistance, for he had already blunted it on the first two creatures. Yet still the neck split and the head fell to one side, glaring the while, hands clutching. Oone had her back to his and together they moved so that they were protected from one side by the boat, which the rabble did not seem to wish to touch. Queen Sough, in obvious distress, wept as she watched but clearly had no authority over the Chaos-creatures. "No! No! This does not help her to sleep! No! No! She is in need of them, I know!"
It was at that point that Elric heard the sound of hooves and saw, over the heads of the closing crowd, the white armour of the Pearl Warrior.
"They are his creatures!" he said in sudden understanding. "This is his own army and he is to be revenged on us!"
"No!" Queen Sough's voice was distant now, as if very far away. "This cannot be useful! It is your army. They'll be loyal. Yes."
Hearing her, Elric knew unexpected clarity. Was it that she was not really human? Were all of these creatures merely shape-changers of some kind, disguising themselves as humans? It would explain their strange cast of mind, the peculiar logic, the strange phrasing.
But there was no time for speculation, for now the creatures were hard about him and Oone, so that it was hardly possible to swing their blades to keep them back. Blood flowed, sticky and foetid, splashing on blades and arms and making them gag. Elric felt he might be overwhelmed by the stench before he was defeated by their weapons.
It was clear they could not resist the mob and Elric was bitter, feeling that they had come very close to the object of their quest only to be cut down by the most wretched of the denizens of Chaos.
Then more bodies fell at his feet and he realised that he had not killed them. Oone, too, was astonished by this turn of events.
They looked up. They could not understand what was happening.
The Pearl Warrior was riding through the ranks of the rabble cutting this way and that, jabbing with his makeshift spear, slicing with his sword, cackling and crowing at every fresh life he took. His horrible eyes were alight with some sort of amusement and even his horse was slashing at the rabble with its hooves, nipping at them with its teeth.
"This is the proper thing!" Queen Sough clapped her hands. "This is true. This is to ensure honour for you!"
Gradually driven back by the Pearl Warrior, by Elric and Gone as they resumed their attack, the rabble began to break up.
Soon the whole awful mob was running for the cliff edge, leaping into the abyss rather than die by the Pearl Warrior's bone spear and his silver sword.
His laughter continued as he herded the remainder to their doom. He screamed his mockery at them. He raved at them for cowards and fools. "Ugly things. Ugly! Ugly! Go! Perish! Go! Go! Go! Banished now, they are. Banished to that! Yes!"
Elric and Gone leaned against the barge trying to catch their breaths.
"I am grateful to you, Pearl Warrior," said the albino as the armoured rider approached. "You have saved our lives."
"Yes." The Pearl Warrior nodded gravely, his eyes unusually thoughtful. "That is so. Now we shall be equal. Then we shall know the truth. I am not free, as you. You believe this?" His last question was addressed to Oone.
She nodded. "I believe that, Pearl Warrior. I, too, am glad you helped us."
"I am the one who protects. This must be done. You go on? I was your friend."
Oone looked back to where Queen Sough was nodding, her arms outstretched in some kind of offering.
"Here I am not your enemy," said the Pearl Warrior, as if instructing the simple-minded. "If I were complete, we three would be a trinity of greatness! Aye! Thou knowest it! I have not the personal. These words are hers, you see. I think."
And with that particularly mystifying pronouncement he wheeled his horse and rode away over the grassy milestone.
"Too many defenders, not enough protectors, perhaps." Gone sounded as odd as the others. Before Elric could quiz her on this she had given her attention back to Queen Sough. "My lady? Did you summon the Pearl Warrior to our aid?"
"She called him to you, I think." Queen Sough seemed almost in a trance. It was odd to hear her speaking of herself in the third person. Elric wondered if this was the normal mode here and again it occurred to him that all the people of this realm were not human but had assumed human shape.
They were now stranded high above the river. Going to the edge of the abyss, Elric stared down. He saw only some bodies which had been caught on the rocks, others drifting downstream. He was glad then that their boat was not having to negotiate waters clogged with so many corpses.
"How can we continue?" he asked Oone. He had a vision of himself and her in the Bronze Tent, of the child between them. All were dying. He knew a pang of need, as if the drug were calling to him, reminding him of his addiction. He remembered Anigh in Quarzhasaat and Cymoril, his betrothed, waiting in Imrryr. Had he been right to let Yyrkoon rule in his place? Every one of his decisions seemed now to be foolish. His self-esteem, never high, was lower than he could remember. His lack of forethought, his failures, his follies, all reminded him that not only was he physically deficient, he was also lacking hi ordinary common-sense.
"It is in the nature of the hero," said Queen Sough in relation to nothing. Then she looked at them and her eyes were maternal, kindly. "You are safe!"
"I think there is some urgency," said Oone. "I sense it. Do you?"
"Aye. Is there danger in the realm we left?"
"Perhaps. Queen Sough, are we far from the Nameless Gate? How can we continue?"
"By means of the moth-steeds," she said. "The waters always rise here and I have my moths. We have only to wait for them. They are on their way." Her tone was matter-of-fact. "It was that rabble which could have been yours. No more. But I cannot anticipate, you see. Every new trap is mysterious to me, as it is to you. I can navigate, as you navigate. This is together, you know."
Against the horizon there were rainbow lights winking and shimmering, like an aurora. Queen Sough sighed when she saw them. She was content.
"Good. Good. That is not late! Just the other."
The colours filled the sky now. As they came closer Elric realised that they belonged to huge, filmy wings supporting slender bodies, more butterfly than moth, of enormous size. Without hesitation the beasts began to descend until the three of them as well as the barge were engulfed by soft wings.
"Into the boat!" cried Queen Sough. "Quickly. We fly."
They hurried to obey her and at once the barge was rising into the air, apparently carried on the backs of the great moths who flew beside the canyon for a while before plunging down into the abyss.
"I watched but there was nothing," said Queen Sough by way of explanation to Elric and Gone. "Now we shall resume."
With astonishing gentleness the creatures had deposited the barge on the river and were flying back up between the walls of the canyon again, filling the whole gloomy place with brilliant multi-coloured light before they vanished. Elric rubbed at his brow. "This is truly the Land of Madness," he said. "I believe it is I who am mad, Lady Oone."
"You are losing confidence in yourself, Prince Elric." She spoke firmly. "That is the particular trap of this land. You come to believe that it is yourself, not what surrounds you, that has little logic. Already we have imposed our sanity on Falador. Do not despair. It canno
t be much longer before we reach the final gate."
"And what is there?" He was sardonic. "Sublime reason?" He felt the same strange sense of exhaustion. Physically he was still capable of continuing, but his mind and his spirit were depleted.
"I cannot begin to anticipate what we shall find in the Nameless Land," she said. "Dreamthieves have little power over what occurs beyond the seventh gate."
"I've noticed your considerable influence here!" But he did not mean to hurt her. He smiled to show that he joked.
From ahead they beard a howling, so painful that even Queen Sough covered her ears. It was like the baying of some monstrous hound, echoing up and down the abyss and threatening to shake the very boulders loose from the walls. As the river bore them round the bend they saw the beast standing there, a great shaggy wolflike beast, its head lifted as it howled again. The water rushed around its huge legs, foamed against its body. As it turned its gaze upon them the beast vanished completely. They heard only the echo of its howling. The speed of the water increased. Queen Sough had removed her hands from the tiller to block her ears. The boat swung in the water and bounced as it struck a rock. She made no attempt to steer it Elric seized the long arm but in spite of using all his strength he could do nothing with the boat. Eventually he, too, gave up.
Down and down the river ran. Down into a gorge growing so deep that soon there was scarcely any light at all. They saw faces grinning at them. They felt hands reach out to touch them. Elric became convinced that every mortal creature who had ever died had come here to haunt him. In the dark rock he saw his own face many times, and that of Cymoril and Yyrkoon. Old battles were fought as he watched. And old, agonising emotions came back to him. He felt the loss of all he had ever loved, the despair of death and desertion, and soon his own voice joined the general babble and he howled as loudly as the hound had howled until Oone shook him and yelled at him and brought him back from the madness which had threatened to engulf him.
"Elric! The last gate! We are almost there! Hold on, Prince of Melniboné. You have been courageous and resourceful until now. This will require still more of you, and you must be ready!"
And Elric began to laugh. He laughed at his own fate, at the fate of the Holy Girl, at Anigh's fate and at Oone's. He laughed when he thought of Cymoril waiting for him on the Dragon Isle, not knowing even now if he lived or died, if he was free or a slave.
When Oone shouted at him again, he laughed in her face.
"Elric! You betray us all!"
He paused in his laughter long enough to say softly, almost in triumph, "Aye, madam, that is so. I betray you all. Have you not heard? It is my destiny to betray!"
"You shall not betray me, sir!" She slapped at his face. She punched him. She kicked his legs. "You shall not betray me and you shall not betray the Holy Girl!"
He knew intense pain, not from her blows but from his own mind. He cried out and then he began to sob. "Oh, Oone. What is happening to me?"
"This is Falador," she said simply. "Are you recovered, Prince Elric?"
The faces still gibbered at him from the rock. The air was still alive with all he feared, all he most misliked in himself.
He was trembling. He could not meet her gaze. He realised he was weeping. "I am Elric, last of Melniboné's royal line," he said. "I have looked upon horror and I have courted the Dukes of Hell. Why should I know fear now?"
She did not answer and he expected no answer from her.
The boat surged, swung again, lifted and dipped.
Suddenly he was calm. He took hold of Oone's hand in a gesture of simple affection.
"I am myself again, I think," he said.
"There is the gateway," said Queen Sough from behind them. She had her grip on the tiller again and with her other hand was pointing ahead.
"There is the land you call the Nameless Land," she said. She spoke plainly now, not in the cryptic phrasing she had used since they had met her. "There you will find the Fortress of the Pearl. She cannot welcome you."
"Who?" said Elric. The waters were calm again. They ran slowly towards a great archway of alabaster, its edges trimmed by soft leaves and shrubs. "The Holy Girl?"
"She can be saved," said Queen Sough. "Only by you two, I think. I have helped her remain here, awaiting rescue. But it is all I can do. I am afraid, you see."
"We are all that, madam," said Elric feelingly.
The boat was caught by new currents and travelled still more slowly, as if reluctant to enter the last gate of the Dream Realm.
"But I am of no help," said Queen Sough. "I might even have conspired. It was those men. They came. Then more came. There was only retreat thereafter. I wish I could know such words. You would understand them if I had them. Ah, it is hard here!"
Elric, looking into her agonised eyes, realised that she was probably more of a prisoner in this world than he and Gone. It seemed to him that she longed to escape and was only kept here by her love of the Holy Girl, her protective emotions. Yet surely she had been here long before Varadia had come?
The boat had begun to pass under the alabaster arch now. There was a salty, pleasant taste to the air, as if they approached the ocean.
Elric decided he must ask the question which was on his mind.
"Queen Sough," he said. "Are you Varadia's mother?"
The pain in the eyes grew even more intense as the veiled woman turned away from him. Her voice was a sob of anguish and he was shocked by it.
"Oh, who knows?" she cried. "Who knows?"
PART THREE
Is there a brave lord birthed by Fate
To wield old weapons, win new estates
And tear down walls Time sanctifies,
Raze ancient temples as hallowed lies,
His pride to break, his love to lose,
Destroying his race, his history, his muse,
And, relinquishing peace for a life of strife,
Leave only a corpse that the flies refuse?
The Chronicle of the Black Sword
1 At the Court of the Pearl
Again Elric experienced that strange frisson of recognition at the landscape before bun, though he could not remember ever seeing anything like it. Pale blue mist rose around cypresses, date palms, orange trees and poplars whose shades of green were equally pale; flowing meadows occasionally revealed the rounded white of boulders and in the far distance were snow-peaked mountains. It was as if an artist had painted the scenery with the most delicate of washes, the finest of brushstrokes. It was a vision of Paradise and completely unexpected after the insanity of Falador.
Queen Sough had remained silent since she had answered Elric's question and a peculiar atmosphere had developed among the three of them. Yet all the uneasiness failed to affect Elric's delight at the world they had entered. The skies (if skies they were) were full of pearly cloud, tinged by pink and the faintest yellow, and a little white smoke rose up from a flat-roofed house some distance away. The barge had come to rest in a pool of still, sparkling water and Queen Sough gestured for them to disembark.
"You will come with us to the Fortress?" asked Gone.
"She does not know. I do not know if it is permitted," said the Queen, her eyes hooded above her veil.
"Then I shall say farewell now," and Elric bowed and kissed the woman's soft hand. "I thank you for your assistance, madam, and trust you will forgive me for the crudeness of my manners."
"Forgiven, yes." Elric, looking up, thought Queen Sough smiled.
"I thank you also, my lady." Done spoke almost intimately, as to one with whom she might share a secret. "Know you how we shall find the Fortress of the Pearl?"
"That one will know." The Queen pointed towards the distant cottage. "Farewell, as you say. You can save her. Only you."
"I am grateful for your confidence also," said Elric. He stepped almost jauntily onto the turf and followed Gone as they made their way across the fields to the little house. "This is a great relief, my lady. A contrast, indeed, to the Land of Mad
ness!"
"Aye." She responded a trifle cautiously, and her hand went to the hilt of her sword. "But remember, Prince Elric, that madness takes many forms in all worlds."
He did not allow her wariness to let him lose his enjoyment. He was determined to restore himself to the peak of his energies, in preparation for whatever might lie ahead.
Gone was first to reach the door of the white house. Outside were two chickens scratching in the gravel, an old dog, tethered to a barrel, who looked up at them over a grey muzzle and grinned, a pair of short-coated cats cleaning their silvery fur on the roof over the lintel. Gone knocked and the door was opened almost immediately. A tall, handsome young man stood there, his head covered by an old bur-noose, his body clad in a light brown robe with long sleeves. He seemed pleased to see visitors.
"Greetings to you," he said. "I am Chamog Borm, currently in exile. Have you come with good news from the Court?"
"We have no news at all, I fear," said Gone. "We are travellers and we seek the Fortress of the Pearl. Is it close by here?"
"At the heart and the centre of those mountains." He waved with his hand towards the peaks. "Will you join me for some refreshment?"
The name the young man had given, together with his extraordinary looks, caused Elric again to rack his brains, trying to recall why all this was so familiar to him. He knew that he had only recently heard the name.
Within the cool house, Chamog Borm brewed them a herbal drink. He seemed proud of his domestic skills and it was clear he was no simple farmer. In one corner of the room was heaped a pile of rich armour, steel chased with silver and gold, a helm decorated with a tall spike, that spike decorated with ornamental snakes and falcons locked hi conflict. There were spears, a long, curved sword, daggers -weapons and accoutrements of every description.
"You are a warrior by trade?" said Elric as he sipped the hot liquid. "Your armour is very handsome."
"I was once a hero," said Chamog Borm sadly, "until I was dismissed from the Court of the Pearl."
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