Though the wine had refreshed his body, Elric began to ache in different ways. The strain on his soul was almost at breaking point. To fight the demon-god his ancestors had worshipped for millenia... The old blood was still strong in him, the old loyalties still present.
Sepiriz rose and gripped Elric's Shoulder, staring with black eyes into the dazed and smouldering red.
«You have pledged yourself to this mission, remember.»
Elric drew himself upright, nodded vaguely. «Aye. And even had I been given this knowledge before I made the pledge, I would still have made it But…»
«What?»
«Do not place too much faith in my ability to fulfil this part, Sepiriz.» The black Nihrain said nothing.
Later he left Elric brooding and returned with a white tablet on which Old nines were engraved.
He handed it to the albino who received it wordlessly.
«Memorise the spell, » Sepiriz said softly, »And then destroy fee tablet. But remember, only use it in an extreme emergency for, as I warned you, Stormbringer's brethren may refuse to aid you.»
Elric made an effort and controlled his emotion. For a long time, long after Moonglum had gone to rest, he studied the rune, learning not only how to verbalise it but also the twists of logic which he would have to understand, and the state of mind into which he must put himself if it were to be effective.
When both he and Sepiriz were satisfied, Elric allowed a lave to take him to his sleeping chamber, but slumber came hard to him and he spent the night in restless torment until a slave came to wake him the next morning and found him fully dressed and ready to ride for Pan Tang where the Dukes of Hell were assembled.
Four
Through the stricken lands of the west rode Elric and Moonglum, astride sturdy Nihrain steeds that seemed to need no rest and contained no fear. The Nihrain horses were a special gift, for they had certain additional powers to their unnatural strength and endurance. Sepiriz had told them how, in fact, the steeds did not have full existence on the earthly plane and that their hooves did not touch the ground in the strict sense, but touched the stuff of their other plane. This gave them the ability to appear to gallop on air-or water.
Scenes of terror were everywhere to be found. At one time they saw in the distance a frightful sight, a wild and hellish mob destroying a village built around a castle. The castle itself was in flames and on the horizon a mountain gouted smoke and fire. Though the looters had human shape, they were degenerate creatures, spilling blood and drinking it with equal abandon. And directing them without joining their orgy Elric and Moonglum saw what seemed to be a corpse astride the living skeleton of a horse, bedecked in bright trappings, a naming sword in its band and a golden helm on its head.
They skirted the scene and rode fast away from it, through mists that looked and smelt like blood, over rivers dammed with death, past rustling forests that seemed to follow them, beneath skies often filled with ghastly winged shapes bearing even ghastlier burdens. At other times they met groups of warriors, many of them in the armour and trappings of the conquered nations, but depraved and obviously sold to Chaos.
These they fought or avoided, depending on the circumstance and, when at last they reached the cliffs of Jharkor and saw the sea which would take them to the Isle of Pan Tang, they knew they had ridden through a land which had become, literally, a hell on earth.
Scarcely stopping, Elric and Moonglum rode their horses over the water towards the evil-heavy island of Pan Tang where Jagreen Lern and his terrible allies prepared to sail with their giant fleet and smash the seapower of the south before conquering the Southlands themselves.
«Elric! » Moonglum called above the whining wind, «Should we not proceed with more caution?»
«Caution? What need of that when the Dukes of Hell must surely know their turncoat servant comes to fight them! »
Moonglum pursed his long lips, disturbed, for Elric was in a wild, maddened mood. He got little comfort, also, from the knowledge that Sepiriz had charmed his shortsword and his sabre both, with one of the few white spells he had at his command.
Now the bleak cliffs of Pan Tang were in sight, spray-lashed and ominous, the sea moaning about them as if in some special torment which Chaos could inflict on nature itself.
And also around the island a peculiar darkness hovered, shifting and changing.
They entered the darkness as the Nihrain steeds pounded up the steep, rocky beach of Pan Tang, a place that had always been ruled by its black priesthood, a grim theocracy that had sought to emulate the legendary sorcerer-kings of the Bright Empire of Melnibone. But Elric, last of those kings, and landless now with few subjects, knew that the dark arts had been natural and lawful to his ancestors, whereas these human-beings had perverted themselves to worship an unholy hierarchy they barely understood.
Sepiriz had given them their route and they galloped across the turbulent land towards the capital-Hwamgaarl, City of Screaming Statues.
Pan Tang was an island of green, shiny, obsidian rock that gave off bizarre reflections; rock that seemed alive.
Soon they could see the looming walls of Hwamgaarl in the distance. As they drew nearer, an army of black-cowered swordsmen, chanting a particularly horrible litany, seemed to rise from the ground ahead.
Elric had no time to spare for these, recognizable as a detachment of Jagreen Lern's warrior-priests.
«Up, steed! » he cried and the Nihrain horse leapt skywards, passing over the disconcerted priests with a fantastic bound. Moonglum did likewise, his laughter mocking them u he and his friend thundered on towards Hwamgaarll
Their way was dear for some distance, since Jagreen Lern had evidently expected the detachment to hold the pair at least for some time.
But when the City of Screaming Statues was barely a mile away, the ground began to grumble and gaping cracks split its surface. This did not overly disturb them, for the Nihrain horses had no use for earthly terrain in any case.
The sky above seemed to heave and shake itself, the darkness became flushed with streaks of the ebony, and from the fissures in the ground, monstrous shapes sprang up!
Vulture-headed lions, fifteen feet high, prowled in hungry anticipation towards them, their feathered manes rustling as they approached.
To Moonglum's frightened astonishment, Elric laughed and the Eastlander knew his friend had gone mad.
But Elric was familiar with this ghoulish pack since his own ancestors had formed it for their own purposes a dozen centuries before.
Evidently, Jagreen Lern had discovered the pack nuking on the borders between Chaos and Earth and had utilised it without being aware of how it had been created.
Old words formed on Elric's pale lips and he spoke affectionately to the towering bird-beasts.
They ceased their progress toward him and glanced uncertainly around them, their loyalties evidently divided.
Feathered tails lashed, claw worked in and out of pads, scraping great gashes in the rock.
And, taking advantage of this, Elric and Moonglum walked their horses through them and emerged just as a droning but angry voice rapped from the heavens, ordering, in the High Tongue of Melnibone; «Destroy them! ’
One lion-vulture bounded uncertainly towards them. Another followed it and another, till the whole pack raced to catch them.
«Faster! » Elric whispered to the Nihrain horse, but the steed could hardly keep the distance separating them.
There was nothing for it but to turn. Deep in the recesses of his memory he recalled there was a certain spell he had teamed as a child. Au the old spells of Melnibone had been passed on to him by his father with the warning that. in these times, many of them were virtually useless. But there had been one-the spell for calling the vulture-headed lions and another spell...
Now he remembered it! The spell for sending them back to the domain of Chaos. Would it work..?
He adjusted his mind, sought the words he needed as the beasts plunged on towards him.
«Creatures! Matik of Melnibone made thee
From stuff of unformed madness!
If thou would still live as thou are now,
Get hence, or Matik's brew again shall be!»
The creatures paused and, desperately, Elric repeated the spell, afraid that he had made a small mistake, either within his mind or in the words.
Moonglum, who had drawn his horse up beside Elric, did not dare speak his fears, for he knew the albino sorcerer must not be hindered while spell-making. He watched in trepidation as the leading beast gave voice to a cawing roar.
But Elric heard the sound with relief, for it meant the beasts had understood his threat and were still bound to obey the spell.
Slowly, half-reluctantly, they crawled down into the fissures and vanished.
Sweating, Elric said triumphantly: «Luck is with us so far! » Jagreen Lern either under-estimated my powers or else this is all he could summon with his own! More proof, perhaps, that Chaos uses him and not the other way about! »
«Tempt not such luck by speaking of it, » Moonglum said warningly. «From what you'd told me, these are puny things compared with that which we must soon face! «
Elric shot an angry look at his friend and nodded briefly. He did not like to think of his coming task.
Now they neared the huge walls of Hwamgaarl. At intervals along the walls, which slanted outwards at an angle to encumber potential besiegers, they saw the screaming statues-once men and women whom Jagreen Lern and his forefathers had turned to rock but allowed them to retain their life and ability to speak. They spoke little, but screamed much, their ghastly shouts rolling over the disgusting city like the tormented voices of the damned-and damned they were. These sobbing waves of sound were horrifying even to Elric's ears, familiar with such sounds as they were.
Then another noise blended with them as the mighty portcullis of Hwamgaarl's main gate squealed upwards and from it poured a host of well-aimed men.
«Evidently. Jagreen Lern's powers of sorcery have been exhausted for the meantime and the Dukes of Hell disdain to join him in a fight against a pair of mere mortals! » Elric said, reaching with his right band for the hilt of his black runesword hanging at his left hip.
Moonglum was beyond speech. Wordlessly he drew both his own charmed blades, knowing he must fight and vanquish his own fear before he could encounter the men who ran at him.
With a wild howl that drowned out the screams from the statues, Stormbringer climbed from the scabbard and stood in Eric's hand, waiting in anticipation for the new souls it might drink, for the life-stuff which it could pass on to Elric and fill him with dark and stolen vitality.
Elric half-cringed at the feel of his blade in his damp hand.
But he shouted to the advancing soldiers: «See jackals! See the sword! Forged by Chaos to vanish Chaosh! Come, let it drink your souls and spill your blood! We are ready for you! »
He did not wait but, with Moonglum behind him, spurred the Nihrain horse into the ranks, hewing about him with something of the old delight
Now, so symbiotically linked with the hell-blade was he, that a hungry joy of killing swept through him, the joy of soul-stealing which drew a surging, unholy vitality into his deficient veins.
Though there were over a hundred warriors blocking his path to the still-open gate, he smashed a bloody path through them and Moonglum, seized by something akin to his friend's mood, was equally successful in dispatching all who came against him.
Familiar with horror as they were, the soldiers soon became loath to approach the screaming runesword as it shone with a peculiarly brilliant light-a black light that pierced the blackness itself.
Laughing in his half-insane triumph, Elric felt the callous joy that his ancestors must have felt long ago when they conquered the world and made it kneel to the Bright Empire. Chaos was, indeed, fighting Chaos-but Chaos of an older, cleaner sort come to destroy the perverted upstarts who thought themselves as mighty as the Dragon Lords of Melnibone!
A bloody trench had formed in the enemy's ranks and through this the pair plunged until the gateway gaped like a monster's maw before them.
Without pausing. Elric rode laughing through H and people scuttled to hiding as he entered, in bizarre triumph, the City of Screaming Statues.
«Where now?» gasped Moonglum, all fear driven from him.
«To the Theocrats Temple-palace, of course. There Arioch and his fellow duke no doubt await us»
Through the echoing streets of the city they rode, proud and terrible, as if with an army at their backs. Dark buildings towered above them but not a face dared peep from a window. Pan Tang had planned to rule the world - and it might yet-but for the moment its denizens were fully demoralised by the sight of two men taking their huge city by storm.
They pulled their horses to a halt as they reached the wide plaza and saw the huge bronze sepulchre swinging on its chains in the centre. Beyond it rose Jagreen Lern's palace, all columns and towers' ominously quiet
Even the statues had ceased to scream and the horses' hooves made no sound as Elric and Moonglum approached the sepulchre. The blood-reddened runesword was still in Elric's hand and with it he took a mighty sweep at the Chains supporting the sepulchre-the holiest vessel of this unholy place. The supernatural blade bit into the metal and severed the links.
The crash as the sepulchre dropped and smashed was magnified a thousand times by the silence. The noise echoed throughout Hwamgaarl and every inhabitant left alive knew what it signified.
«Thus I challenge thee, Jagreen Lern! » Elric shouted, aware that these words would also be heard by everyone. «I have come to pay debt I promised! Come, puppet! » he paused, even his triumph not sufficient to fully quench his nervousness at what he must say now. «Cornel Bring Hell's Dukes with you-» Moonglum swallowed, his eyes rolling as he studied Elric’s twisted face. The albino continued:
«Bring Arioch, and Balan, and Maluk! Bring the proud princes of Chaos with you for I have come to send them back to their own realm forever! »
The silence again enfolded his high-challenge and he heard its echoes die away in the far places of the city.
Then, from somewhere inside the palace, he heard a movement His heart pounded against his rib-cage^ threatening to break through the bones and hang throbbing on his chest as proof of his mortality.
He heard a sound like the clopping of monstrous hooves and ahead of it the measured steps that must be those of a man.
His eyes fixed themselves on the great golden doors of the palace, half-hidden in shadows that the columns threw.
The doors began to open silently.
Then a figure, dwarfed by the size of the doors, stepped forth and stood there regarding Elric with a horrible anger smouldering in its eyes.
On its body scarlet armour glowed as if red-hot. On its left arm was a shield of the same stuff and in its hand a steel sword.
Jagreen Lern, said in a voice that trembled with rage:
«So, King Elric, you have kept part of your word, after all.»
«And I plan to keep the rest of it, » Elric said with sudden calm. «Step forward, theocrat I’ll meet you fairly in single combat»
Jagreen Lern gave a sneering, hollow laugh.
«Fairly? With that blade in your hand? Once I met it and did not perish, but now it bums with the blood and souls of a score of my best warrior-priests. I would not be so foolish. No-let those you have challenged meet you.»
He stepped to one side.
The doors gaped wider and if Elric expected giant figures to emerge, he was disappointed. The dukes had assumed the forms of men.
But there was a power about them not filled the air as they moved to stand, disdainful of Jagreen Lern, upon the topmost step of the palace.
Elric glimpsed their beautiful, smiling faces and shuddered again, for there was a kind of love on their faces, a kind of pride-a kind of confidence so that, for a moment, he was filled with the wish to jump from his horse and fling himsel
f their feet to plead forgiveness for what he had become.
«Well, Elric, » said Arioch, the leader, softly. «Would you repeat and return to us?» The voice was silvery in its beauty and Elric half-made to dismount.
But then he clapped his hands to his ears, the runesword hanging by its wrist-throng, and cried:
«No! No! I must do what I must! Your time, like mine, is over! »
«Do not speak for us, Elric, » Balan said persuasively, his words passing Elric's hands and whispering in his skull. «Chaos has never been this powerful on Earth-not even in earliest days. We shall make you great-we shall make you a Lord of Chaos, equal to ourselves! We give you immortality, Elric. If you behave so foolishly as you behave now, you will bring yourself only death and none shall remember you.»
«I know that! I would not wish to be remembered in a world ruled by Law! »
Maluk laughed softly.
«That will never come to pass. We block every move that Law makes to try to bring help to Earth.»
«And this is why you must be destroyed! » Elric cried.
«We are immortal-we can never be slain! » Arioch said, and there was a tinge of impatience in his voice.
«Then I shall send you back to Chaos in such a way that you shall never have power on the Earth again! »
Elric swung his runeblade into his hand and it trembled there, moaning quietly as if unsure of itself, just as he was.
«See! » Balan walked part-way down the steps. «See-even your trusted sword knows that we speak truth.»
«You speak a sort of tnidi.» Moonglum said in a quavering tone, astonished at his own bravery. «But I remember something of a greater truth-a law that should bind both Chaos and Law-the Law of the Balance. The Supreme Spirit holds that balance over the earth and it should be that Chaos and Law war to keep that balance straight Sometimes the balance tips one way, sometimes another-and thus are the ages of the Earth created. But an inequal balance of this magnitude is wrong. In your struggling you of Chaos may have forgotten this! »
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