«You look upon the last of mankind, my friends, save for ourselves. Soon it will be indistinguishable from anything else. All this unstable earth is beneath the heel of the Lords of Chaos, and they are gradually absorbing it into their realm, into their own plane. They will first remould and then steal the earth altogether; it will become just another lump of clay for them to mould into whatever grotesque shapes take their fancy.»
«And we seek to stop that, » Moonglum said hopelessly. «We cannot, Elric! »
«We must continue to strive, until we are conquered. I remember that Straasha the Sea King, said, if Lord Pyaray, commander of the Ships of Hell, is slain, the ships themselves will no longer be able to exist. I have a mind to put that to the test. Also, I have not forgotten that my wife may be prisoner aboard his ship, or that Jagreen Lern is there. I have three good reasons for venturing there.»
«No, Elric! It would be more than suicide.»
«I do not ask you to accompany me.»
«If you go, we shall come, but I like it not.»
«No - if one man cannot succeed, neither can three. I shall go alone. Wait here for me. If I do not return, then try to get to Melnibone.»
«But Elric-! » Moonglum cried and then watched as, his Chaos Shield pulsing, Elric spurred the Nihrain steed towards the camp.
Protected against the Influence of Chaos, Elric was sighted by a detachment of warriors as he neared the ship which was his destination. They recognised him and rode towards him shouting.
He laughed in their faces, half-maddened by the sights, smells and sounds around him.
«Just the fodder my blade needs before we banquet on yonder ship! » he cried as he slashed off the first man's head as if it were a buttercup.
Secure behind his great round shield, he hewed about him with a will. Since Stormbringer had slain the gods imprisoned in the elder trees, the vitality which the sword passed into him was almost without limit, yet every soul that Elric stole from Jagreen Lern's Warriors was another fraction of vengeance reaped. Against men, he was invincible. He split one heavily armoured warrior from bead to crutch, sheared through the saddle and smashed the horse's backbone apart.
Then the remaining warriors dropped back suddenly and Elric felt his body tingle with peculiar sensations, knew he was in the area of influence exerted by the Chaos ship and knew also that he was being protected against it by his shield. He was now partially out of his own earthly plane and existed between his world and the world of Chaos. He dismounted from his Nihrain steed and ordered it to wait for him. There were ropes trailing from the huge sides of the Ship and Elric saw with horror that other figures were climbing up them - and he recognised several as men he had known in Karlaak.
Even now the Chaos ship was still recruiting its crew from the ranks of the dead!
He joined the ghastly ranks and swarmed with them up the tides of the great gleaming ship, grateful at least for the cover they gave him.
He reached the ship's rail and hauled himself over it, spitting bile from his throat as he entered a peculiar region of darkness and came to the first of a series of decks that rose like steps to the topmost one where he could see the occupants-a manlike figure and something like a huge, blood-red octopus. The first was probably Jagreen Lern. The second was obviously Pyaray, for this, Elric knew, was the guise he took when he manifested himself on Earth.
Contrasting with the ships seen from the distance, once aboard Elric became conscious of the dark, shadowy nature of the light filled with moving threads, a network of dark reds, blues, yellows, greens and purples which, as he moved through it, gave and re-formed itself behind him.
He was constantly being blundered against by the moving cadavers and he made a point of not looking at their faces, too closely, for he had already recognised several of the sea-raiders whom he had abandoned years before, during the escape from Imrryr.
Slowly he was gaining the top deck, noting that so far, both Jagreen Lern and Lord Pyaray seemed unaware of his presence. Presumably they considered themselves entirely free from any kind of attack now they had conquered all the known world. He grinned maliciously to himself as he continued climbing, gripping the shield tightly, knowing that if once he lost hold of it, his body would become transformed either into some shambling alien shape or else flow away altogether to become absorbed into the Chaos stuff.
By now Elric had forgotten everything but his main object which was to kill Lord Pyaray. He must gain the top-most deck and deal first with the Lord of Chaos. Then he would kill Jagreen Lern and, if she were really there, rescue Zarozinia and bear her to safety.
Up the dark decks, through the nets of strange colours, Elric went, his milk white hair flowing behind him in contrast to the moody darkness around him.
As he came to the last deck but one, he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and looking in that direction saw, with heart-lurching horror, that one of Pyaray's blood-red tentacles had found him. He stumbled back, pulling up his shield.
The tentacle tip touched the shield and rebounded suddenly, the entire tentacle shrivelling. From above, where the Chaos Lord’s main bulk was, there came a terrible screaming and roaring.
«What's this? What’s this? What’s this?»
Elric shouted in impudent triumph at seeing his shield work with such effect: «‘Tis Elric of Melnibone, great lord. Come to destroy thee! »
Another tentacle dropped towards him, seeking to curl around the shield and seize him. Then another followed it and another. Elric hacked at one, severed its sensitive tip, saw another touch the shield, recoil and shrivel and then avoided the third in order to run round the deck and ascend, as swiftly as he could, the ladder leading to the deck above. Here he saw Jagreen Lern, his eyes wide. The Theocrat was clad in his familiar scarlet armour. On his arm was his buckler and in the same hand an axe, while his right hand held a broadsword. He glanced down at these weapons, obviously aware of their inadequacy against Elric's.
«You later, Theocrat, » Elric promised grimly.
«You're a fool, Elric! You're doomed now' whatever you do! »
It was probably true, but he did not care.
«Aside, upstart, » Elric said as, his shield up, he moved warily towards the many-teotacled Lord of Chaos.
«You are the killer of many cousins of mine, Elric, » the creature said in a low voice. «And you've banished several Dukes of Chaos to their own domain so that they cannot reach Earth again. For that you must pay. But I at least do not underestimate you, as, in likelihood, they did.» A tentacle reared above him and tried to come down from over the shield's rim and seize his throat. He took a step backwards and blocked the attempt with the shield.
Then a whole web of tentacles began to come from all sides, each one curling around the shield, knowing its touch to be death. He skipped aside, avoiding them with difficulty, slicing about him with Stormbringer.
As he fought, he remembered Straasha's last message: «Strike for the crystal a-top his head. There is his life and his soul.» Elric saw the blue radiating crystal which he had originally taken to be one of Lord Pyaray's several eyes.
He moved in towards the roots of the tentacles, leaving his back badly unprotected, but there was nothing else for it. As he did so, a huge maw gaped in the thing's head and tentacles began to draw him towards it. He extended his shield towards the maw and had the satisfaction of seeing yellow jelly-like stuff spurt from it as the Lord of Chaos screamed in pain.
He got his foot on one tentacle stump and clambered up the slippery hide of the Chaos Lord, every time his shield touched him creating some sort of wound so that Lord Pyaray began to thresh about dreadfully. Then he stood above the glowing soul-crystal. For an instant he paused, then plunged Stormbringer point-first into the crystal!
There came a mighty throbbing from the heart of the entity's body. It gave vent to a monstrous shriek sad then Elric yelled as Stormbringer took the soul of a Lord of Hell and channelled this surging vitality through to him. It was too much.
He was hurled backwards.
He lost his footing on the slippery back, stumbled off the deck itself and fell to another nearly a hundred feet below. He landed with bone-cracking force, but, thanks to the stolen vitality, was completely unharmed. He got up, ready to clamber towards Jagreen Lern.
The Theocrat’s anxious face peered down at him and he yelled: «You'll find a present for you in yonder cabin, Elric! »
Torn between pursuing the Theocrat and investigating the Cabin, Elric turned and opened the door. From inside came a dreadful sobbing.
«Zarozinia! » he cried. He ducked into the dark place and there he saw her.
Her lovely body was dreadfully changed so that it now resembled the body of a white worm. Only her head, the same beautiful head, was left.
Horrified he almost dropped his shield.
«Did Jagreen Lern do this?»
«He and his ally.» The head nodded.
Sickened, Elric could hardly bear to look at her. «Another great score that must be paid, » he muttered.
And then the worm-body had threshed and impaled itself on his sword. «There! » the head cried. «Take my soul into you. Elric, for I am useless to myself and you, now! Carry my soul with yours and we shall be forever together.» He tried to withdraw the thirsty runeblade, but it was impossible. And. unlike any other sensation he had ever received from it, this was almost gentle, warm and pleasant, his wife's soul flowed into his and he wept as it did so.
«Oh, Zarozinia, » he sobbed. «Oh, my love! »
So she died, her soul blending with his as, years before, the soul of his first love, Cymoril, had been taken. He did not look at the dreadful worm-body, did not glance at her face, but walked slowly from the cabin.
But now it appeared that the deck was disintegrating, flowing apart Jagreen Lern had evidently made good his escape and Elric in his present mood, did not feel ready to pursue him. Sword and shield both aiding him in their ways, he leapt from the ship to the pulsating ground and ran for the Nihrain steed.
Then, the tears still flowing down his white face, he rode, leaving the Ships of Hell breaking apart behind him. At least these would threaten the world no more and a blow had been struck against Chaos. Now only the horde itself remained to be dealt with-and the dealing would not be so easy.
He rejoined his friends in silence, said nothing to them and led the way over the shaking earth towards Melnibone, island of his ancestors, where the last stand against Chaos would be made, the last battle fought and his destiny completed.
And in his mind as he rode, he seemed to hear Zarozinia's youthful voice whispering comforting words as, still sobbing, he galloped away from the camp of Chaos.
BOOK FOUR
Doomed Lord's Passing
For the mind of Man alone is free to explore the lofty vastness of the cosmic infinite, to transcend ordinary consciousness, to roam the secret corridors of the brain where past and future melt into one... And universe and individual are tinted, the one mirrored in the other, and each contains the other.
-The Chronicle of the Black Sword
One
The dreaming city no longer dreamed in splendour. The tat: tend towers of Imrryr were blackened husks, tumbled rags of masonry standing sharp and dark against a sullen sky. Once, Elric's vengeance had brought fire to the city, and the fire had brought ruin.
Streaks of cloud, like sooty smoke, whispered across the pulsing mm so that the shouting, red-stained waters beyond Imrryr were soiled by shadow, and they seemed to become quieter as if bushed by the black scan that rode across their ominous turbulence.
Upon a confusion of fallen masonry, a man stood watching the waves. A tall man' broad-shouldered, slender at hip, a man with slanting brows, pointed, lobeless ears, high cheekbones and crimson, moody eyes In a dead white ascetic face. He was dressed in black, quilted doublet and heavy cloak, both high-collared, emphasising the pallor of his albino kin. The wind, erratic and warm, played with his cloak, fingered it and passed mindlessly on to howl through the broken towers.
Elric heard the howling and his memory was filled by the sweet, the malicious and melancholy melodies of old Melnibone. He remembered, too, the other music his ancestors had created when they had elegantly tortured their slaves, choosing them for the pitch of their screams and forming them into the instruments of unholy symphonies. Lost in this nostalgia for a while, he found something dose to forgetfulness and he wished that he had never doubted The code of Melnibone, wished that he had accepted it without question and thus left his mind unsundered. Bitterly, he smiled.
A figure appeared below him and climbed the tumbled stones to stand by his side. He was a small, red-haired man with a wide mouth and eyes that had once been bright and amused.
«You look to the East, Elric.» Moonglum murmured. «You look back towards something irremediable.»
Elric put his long-fingered hand on his friend»s shoulder. «Where else is there to look, Moonglum, when the world lies beneath the heel of Chaos? What would you have me do? Look forward to days of hope and laughter, to an old age lived in peace, with children playing around my feet?» He laughed softly. It was not a laugh that Moonglum liked to hear.
«Sepiriz spoke of help from the White Lords. It must come soon. We must wait patiently.» Moonglum turned to squint into the glowering and motionless sun and then, his face set in an introspective look, cast his eyes down to the rubble on which he stood.
Elric was silent for a moment, watching the waves. Then he shrugged. «Why complain? It does me no good. I cannot act on my own volition. Whatever fate is before its cannot be changed. I pray that the men who follow us will make use of their ability to control their own destinies. I have no such ability.» He touched his jaw bone with his fingers and then looked at the hand, noting nails, knuckles, muscles and veins standing out on the pale skin. He ran this hand through the silky strands of his white hair, drew a long breath and let it out in a sigh. «Logic! The world cries for logic. I have none, yet here I am, formed as a man with mind, heart and vitals, yet formed by a chance coming together of certain elements. The world needs logic. Yet all the logic in the world is worm as much as one lucky guess. Men take pains to weave a web of careful thoughts-yet others thoughtlessly weave a random pattern and achieve the same result. So much for the thoughts of the sage.»
«Ah, » Moonglum winked with attempted levity, «thus speaks the wild adventurer, the cynic. But we are not all wild and cynical, Elric. Other men tread other paths-and reach other conclusions than yours.»
«I tread one that’s pre-ordained. Come, lets to the Dragon Caves and see what Dyvim Slorm has done to rouse our reptilian friends.»
They stumbled together down the ruins and walked the shattered canyons that had once been the lovely streets of Imrryr. out of the city and along a grassy track not wound through the gorse, disturbing a flock of large ravens that fled into the air, cawing, all save one, the king, who balanced himself on a bush, his cloak of ruffled feathers drawn up in dignity, his black eyes regarding them with wary contempt.
Down through sharp rocks to the gaping entrance of the Dragon Caves, down the steep steps into torch-Ht darkness with its damp warmth and smell of scaly reptilian bodies. Into the first cave where the great recumbent forms of the sleeping dragons lay, their folded leathery wings rising into the shadows, their green and black scales glowing faintly, their clawed feet folded and their slender snouts curled back, even in sleep, to display the long, ivory teeth that seemed like so many white stalactites. Their dilating red nostrils groaned in torpid slumber. The smell of their hides and their breath was unmistakable, rousing in Moonglum some memory inherited from his ancestors, some shadowy impression of a time when these dragons and their masters swept across a world they ruled, their inflammable venom dripping from their fangs and heedlessly setting fire to the countryside across which they flew. Elric, used to it, hardly noticed the smell, but passed on through the first cave and the second until he found Dyvim Slorm, striding about with a torch in one
hand and a scroll in the other, swearing to himself.
He looked up as he heard their booted feet approach. He spread out his arms and shouted, his voice echoing through the caverns, «Nothing! Not a stir, not an eyelid flickering! There is no way of rousing them. They'll not wake until they have slept their necessary number of years. Oh, that we had not used them on the last two occasions, for we have greater need of them today! »
«Neither you nor I had the knowledge we have now. Regret is useless since it can achieve nothing.» Elric stared around him at the huge, shadowy forms. Here, slightly apart from the rest, lay the leader-dragon, one he recognised and felt affection for: Flamefang, the eldest, who was five thousand years old and still young for a dragon. But Flamefang, like the rest, slept on.
He went up to the beast and stroked its metal-like scales, ran his hand down the ivory smoothness of its great front fangs, felt its warm breath on his body and smiled. Beside him, on his hip, he heard Stormbringer murmur. He patted the blade. «Here's one soul you cannot have. The dragons are indestructible. They will survive, even though all the world collapses into nothing.»
Dyvim Slorm said from another part of tile cavern: «I can't think of further action to take for the meantime, Brie. Let's go back to the tower of D'a'rputna and refresh ourselves.»
Elric nodded assent and, together, the three men returned through the caverns and ascended the steps into the sunlight.
«So, » Dyvim Slorm remarked, «still no nightfall. The sun has remained in that position for thirteen days, ever since we left the Camp of Chaos and made our perilous way to Melnibone. How much power must Chaos wield if it can top the sun in its course?»
Stormbringer es-6 Page 17