Elric shook his head. 'You cannot help, you will only die if you stay. Go.'
Reluctantly the Red Archer unstrung his bow, glanced suspiciously up at the two black swords, then squeezed his way through the doorway and was gone.
'Now, Yyrkoon, ' said Elric, letting Aubec's sword fall to the floor. 'We must settle this, you and I.'
4
Two Black Swords
AND THEN THE runeblades Stormbringer and Mournblade were gone from where they had hung so long.
And Stormbringer had settled into Elric's right hand. And Mournblade lay in Prince Yyrkoon's right hand.
And the two men stood on opposite sides of the Pulsing Cavern and regarded first each other and then the swords they held.
The swords were singing. Their voices were faint but could be heard quite plainly. Elric lifted the huge blade easily and turned it this way and that, admiring its alien beauty.
'Stormbringer, ' he said.
And then he felt afraid.
It was suddenly as if he had been born again and that this runesword was born with him. It was as if they had never been separate.
'Stormbringer.'
And the sword moaned sweetly and settled even more smoothly into his grasp.
'Stormbringer! ' yelled Elric and he leapt at his cousin.
'Stormbringer! '
And he was full of fear--so full of fear. And the fear brought a wild kind of delight--a demonic need to fight and kill his cousin, to sink the blade deep into Yyrkoon's heart. To take vengeance. To spill blood. To send a soul to hell.
And now Prince Yyrkoon's cry could be heard above the thrum of the swordvoices, the drumming of the pulse of the cavern.
'Mournblade! '
And Mournblade came up to meet Stormbringer's blow and turn that blow and thrust back at Elric who swayed aside and brought Stormbringer round and down in a sidestroke which knocked Yyrkoon and Mournblade backward for an instant. But Stormbringer's next thrust was met again. And the next thrust was met. And the next. If the swordsmen were evenly matched, then so were the blades, which seemed possessed of their own wills, though they performed the wills of their wielders.
And the clang of the metal upon metal turned into a wild, metallic song which the swords sang. A joyful song as if they were glad at last to be back to battling, though they battled each other.
And Elric barely saw his cousin, Prince Yyrkoon, at all, save for an occasional flash of his dark, wild face. Elric's attention was given entirely to the two black swords, for it seemed that the swords fought with the life of one of the swordsmen as a prize (or perhaps the lives of both, thought Elric) and that the rivalry between Elric and Yyrkoon was nothing compared with the brotherly rivalry between the swords who seemed full of pleasure at the chance to engage again after many millennia.
And this observation, as he fought--and fought for his soul as well as his life--gave Elric pause to consider his hatred of Yyrkoon.
Kill Yyrkoon he would, but not at the will of another power. Not to give sport to these alien swords.
Mournblade's point darted at his eyes and Stormbringer rose to deflect the thrust once more.
Elric no longer fought his cousin. He fought the will of the two black swords.
Stormbringer dashed for Yyrkoon's momentarily undefended throat. Elric clung to the sword and dragged it back, sparing his cousin's life. Stormbringer whined almost petulantly, like a dog stopped from biting an intruder.
And Elric spoke through clenched teeth. 'I'll not be your puppet, runeblade. If we must be united, let it be upon a proper understanding.'
The sword seemed to hesitate, to drop its guard, and Elric was hard put to defend himself against the whirling attack of Mournblade which, in turn, seemed to sense its advantage.
Elric felt fresh energy pour up his right arm and into his body. This was what the sword could do. With it, he needed no drugs, would never be Weak again. In battle he would triumph. At peace, he could rule with pride. When he travelled, it could be alone and without fear. It was as if the sword reminded him of all these things, even as it returned Mournblade's attack.
And what must the sword have in return?
Elric knew. The sword told him, without words of any sort. Stormbringer needed to fight, for that was its reason for existence. Stormbringer needed to kill, for that was its source of energy, the lives and the souls of men, demons-even gods.
And Elric hesitated, even as his cousin gave a huge, cackling yell and dashed at him so that Mournblade glanced off his helm and he was flung backwards and down and saw Yyrkoon gripping his moaning black sword in both hands to plunge the runeblade into Elric's body.
And Elric knew he would do anything to resist that fate--for his soul to be drawn into Mournblade and his strength to feed Prince Yyrkoon's strength. And he rolled aside, very quickly, and got to one knee and turned and lifted Stormbringer with one gauntleted hand upon the blade and the other upon the hilt to take the great blow Prince Yyrkoon brought upon it. And the two black swords shrieked as if in pain, and they shivered, and black radiance poured from them as blood might pour from a man pierced by many arrows. And Elric was driven, still on his knees, away from the radiance, gasping and sighing and peering here and there for sight of Yyrkoon who had disappeared.
And Elric knew that Stormbringer spoke to him again. If Elric did not wish to die by Mournblade, then Elric must accept the bargain which the Black Sword offered.
'He must not die! ' said Elric. 'I will not slay him to make sport for you! '
And through the black radiance ran Yyrkoon, snarling and snapping and whirling his runesword.
Again Stormbringer darted through an opening, and again Elric made the blade pull back and Yyrkoon was only grazed.
Stormbringer writhed in Elric's hands.
Elric said: 'You shall not be my master.'
And Stormbringer seemed to understand and become quieter, as if reconciled. And Elric laughed, thinking that he now controlled the runesword and that from now on the blade would do his bidding.
'We shall disarm Yyrkoon, ' said Elric. 'We shall not kill him.'
Elric rose to his feet.
Stormbringer moved with all the speed of a needle-thin rapier. It feinted, it parried, it thrust. Yyrkoon, who had been grinning in triumph, snarled and staggered back, the grin dropping from his sullen features.
Stormbringer now worked for Elric. It made the moves that Elric wished to make. Both Yyrkoon and Mournblade seemed disconcerted by this turn of events. Mournblade shouted as if in astonishment at its brother's behaviour. Elric struck at Yyrkoon's sword-arm, pierced cloth--pierced flesh--pierced sinew-pierced bone. Blood came, soaking Yyrkoon's arm and dripping down onto the hilt of the sword. The blood was slippery. It weakened Yyrkoon's grip on his runesword. He took it in both hands, but he was unable to hold it firmly.
Elric, too, took Stormbringer in both hands. Unearthly strength surged through him. With a gigantic blow he dashed Stormbringer against Mournblade where blade met hilt. The runesword few from Yyrkoon's grasp. It sped across the Pulsing Cavern.
Elric smiled. He had defeated his own sword's will and, in turn, had defeated the brother sword.
Mournblade fell against the wall of the Pulsing Cavern and for a moment was still.
A groan then seemed to escape the defeated runesword. A high-pitched shriek filled the Pulsing Cavern. Blackness flooded over the eery pink light and extinguished it.
When the light returned Elric saw that a scabbard lay at his feet. The scabbard was black and of the same alien craftsmanship as the runesword. Elric saw Yyrkoon. The prince was on his knees and he was sobbing, his eyes darting about the Pulsing Cavern seeking Mournblade, looking at Elric with fright as if he knew he must now be slain.
'Mournblade?' Yyrkoon said hopelessly. He knew he was to die.
Mournblade had vanished from the Pulsing Cavern.
'Your sword is gone, ' said Elric quietly.
Yyrkoon whimpered and tried to crawl towards the e
ntrance of the cavern. But the entrance had shrunk to the size of a small coin. Yyrkoon wept.
Stormbringer trembled, as if thirsty for Yyrkoon's soul. Elric stooped.
Yyrkoon began to speak rapidly. 'Do not slay me, Elric--not with that runeblade. I will do anything you wish. I will die in any other way.'
Elric said: 'We are victims, cousin, of a conspiracy--a game played by gods, demons and sentient swords. They wish one of us dead. I suspect they wish you dead more than they wish me dead. And that is the reason why I shall not slay you here.' He picked up the scabbard. He forced Stormbringer into it and at once the sword was quiet. Elric took off his old scabbard and looked around for Aubec's sword, but that, too, was gone. He dropped the old scabbard and hooked the new one to his belt. He rested his left hand upon the pommel of Stormbringer and he looked not without sympathy upon the creature that was his cousin.
'You are a worm, Yyrkoon. But is that your fault?'
Yyrkoon gave him a puzzled glance.
'I wonder, if you had all your desire, would you cease to be a worm, cousin?'
Yyrkoon raised himself to his knees. A little hope began to show in his eyes.
Elric smiled and drew a deep breath. 'We shall see, ' he said. 'You must agree to wake Cymoril from her sorcerous slumber.'
'You have humbled me, Elric, ' said Yyrkoon in a small, pitiful voice. 'I will wake her. Or would...'
'Can you not undo your spell?'
'We cannot escape from the Pulsing Cavern. It is past the time...'
'What's this?'
'I did not think you would follow me. And then I thought I would easily finish you. And now it is past the time. One can keep the entrance open for only a little while. It will admit anyone who cares to enter the Pulsing Cavern, but it will let no-one out after the power of the spell dies. I gave much to know that spell.'
'You have given too much for everything, ' said Elric. He went to the entrance and peered through. Rackhir waited on the other side. The Red Archer had an anxious expression. Elric said: 'Warrior Priest of Phum, it seems that my cousin and I are trapped in here. The entrance will not part for us.' Elric tested the warm, moist stuff of the wall. It would not open more than a tiny fraction. 'It seems that you can join us or else go back. If you do join us, you share our fate.'
'It is not much of a fate if I go back, ' said Rackhir. 'What chances have you?'
'One, ' said Elric. 'I can invoke my patron.'
'A Lord of Chaos?' Rackhir made a wry face. 'Exactly, ' said Elric. 'I speak of Arioch.'.
'Arioch, eh? Well, he does not care for renegades from Phum.'
'What do you choose to do?'
Rackhir stepped forward. Elric stepped back. Through the opening came Rackhir's head, followed by his shoulders, followed by the rest of him. The entrance closed again immediately. Rackhir stood up and untangled the string of his bow from the stave, smoothing it. 'I agreed to share your fate--to gamble all on escaping from this plane, ' said the Red Archer. He looked surprised when he saw Yyrkoon. 'Your enemy is still alive?'
'Aye.'
'You are merciful indeed! '
'Perhaps. Or obstinate. I would not slay him merely because some supernatural agency used him as a pawn, to be killed if I should win. The Lords of the higher Worlds do not as yet control me completely-nor will they if I have any power at all to resist them.'
Rackhir grinned. 'I share your view--though I'm not optimistic about its realism. I see you have one of those black swords at your belt. Will that not hack a way through the cavern?'
'No, ' said Yyrkoon from his place against the wall. 'Nothing can harm the stuff of the Pulsing Cavern.'
'I'll believe you, ' said Elric, 'for I do not intend to draw this new sword of mine often. I must learn how to control it first.'
'So Arioch must be summoned.' Rackhir sighed.
' If that is possible, ' said Elric.
'He will doubtless destroy me, ' said Rackhir, looking to Elric in the hope that the albino would deny this statement.
Elric looked grave. 'I might be able to strike a bargain with him. It will also test something.'
Elric turned his back on Rackhir and on Yyrkoon. He adjusted his mind. He sent it out through vast spaces and complicated mazes. And he cried:
'Arioch! Arioch! Aid me, Arioch! '
He had a sense of something listening to him. 'Arioch! '
Something shifted in the places where his mind went.
'Arioch...'
And Arioch heard him. He knew it was Arioch.
Rackhir gave a horrified yell. Yyrkoon screamed. Elric turned and saw that something disgusting had appeared near the far wall. It was black and it was foul and it slobbered and its shape was intolerably alien. Was this Arioch? How could it be? Arioch was beautiful. But perhaps, thought Elric, this was Arioch's true shape. Upon this plane, in this peculiar cavern, Arioch could not deceive those who looked upon him.
But then the shape had disappeared and a beautiful youth with ancient eyes stood looking at the three mortals.
'You have won the sword, Elric, ' said Arioch, ignoring the others. 'I congratulate you. And you have spared your cousin's life. Why so?'
'More than one reason, ' said Elric. 'But let us say he must remain alive in order to wake Cymoril.'
Arioch's face bore a little, secret smile for a moment and Elric realised that he had avoided a trap. If he had killed Yyrkoon, Cymoril would never have woken again.
'And what is this little traitor doing with you?' Arioch turned a cold eye on Rackhir who did his best to stare back at the Chaos Lord.
'He is my friend, ' said Elric. 'I made a bargain with him. If he aided me to find the Black Sword, then I would take him back with me to our own plane.'
'That is impossible. Rackhir is an exile here. That is his punishment.'
'He comes back with me, ' said Elric. And now he unhooked the scabbard holding Stormbringer from his belt and he held the sword out before him. 'Or I do not take the sword with me. Failing that, we all three remain here for eternity.'
'That is not sensible, Elric. Consider your responsibilities.'
'I have considered them. That is my decision.'
Arioch's smooth face had just a tinge of anger. 'You must take the sword. It is your destiny.'
'So you say. But I now know that the sword may only be borne by me. You cannot bear it, Arioch, or you would. Only I--or another mortal like me--can take it from the Pulsing Cavern. Is that not so?'
'You are clever, Elric of Melnibone.' Arioch spoke with sardonic admiration. 'And you are a fitting servant of Chaos. Very well--that traitor can go with you. But he would be best warned to tread warily. 'The Lords of Chaos have been known to bear malice...'
Rackhir said hoarsely: 'So I have heard, My Lord Arioch.'
Arioch ignored the archer. 'The man of Phum is not, after all, important. And if you wish to spare your cousin's life, so be it, It matters little. Destiny can contain a few extra threads in her design and still accomplish her original aims.'
'Very well then, ' said Elric. 'Take us from this place.'
'Where to?'
'Why, to Melnibone, if you please.'
With a smile that was almost tender Arioch looked down on Elric and a silky hand stroked Elric's cheek. Arioch had grown to twice his original size. 'Oh, you are surely the sweetest of all my slaves, ' said the Lord of Chaos.
And there was a whirling. There was a sound like the roar of the sea. There was a dreadful sense of nausea. And three weary men stood on the floor of the great throne room in Imrryr. The throne room was deserted, save that in one corner a black shape, like smoke, writhed for a moment and then was gone.
Rackhir crossed the floor and seated himself carefully upon the first step to the Ruby Throne. Yyrkoon and Elric remained where they were, staring into each other's eyes. Then Elric laughed and slapped his scabbarded sword. 'Now you must fulfil your promises to me, cousin. Then I have a proposition to put to you.'
'It is like a market p
lace, ' said Rackhir, leaning on one elbow and inspecting the feather in his scarlet hat. 'So many bargains! '
5
The Pale King's Mercy
YYRKOON STEPPED BACK from his sister's bed. He was worn and his features were drawn and there was no spirit in him as he said: 'It is done.' He turned away and looked through the window at the towers of Imrryr, at the harbour where the returned golden battle-barges rode at anchor, together with the ship which had been King Straasha's gift to Elric. 'She will wake in a moment, ' added Yyrkoon absently.
Dyvim Tvar and Rackhir the Red Archer looked inquiringly at Elric who kneeled by the bed, staring into the face of Cymoril. Her face grew peaceful as he watched and for one terrible moment he suspected Prince Yyrkoon of tricking him and of killing Cymoril. But then the eyelids moved and the eyes opened and she saw him and she smiled. 'Elric? The dreams... You are safe?'
'I am safe, Cymoril. As are you.'
'Yyrkoon...?'
'He woke you.'
'But you swore to slay him...'
'I was as much subject to sorcery as you. My mind was confused. It is still confused where some matters are concerned. But Yyrkoon is changed now. I defeated him. He does not doubt my power. He no longer lusts to usurp me.'
'You are merciful, Elric.' She brushed raven hair from her face.
Elric exchanged a glance with Rackhir.
'It might not be mercy which moves me, ' said Elric. 'It might merely be a sense of fellowship with Yyrkoon.'
'Fellowship? Surely you cannot feel... ?'
'We are both mortal. We were both victims of a game played between the Lords of the Higher Worlds. My loyalty must, finally, be to my own kind--and that is why I ceased to hate Yyrkoon.'
'And that is mercy, ' said Cymoril.
Yyrkoon walked towards the door. 'May I leave, my lord emperor?'
Elric thought he detected a strange light in his defeated cousin's eyes. But perhaps it was only humility or despair. He nodded. Yyrkoon went from the room, closing the door softly.
Dyvim Tvar said: 'Trust Yyrkoon not at all, Elric. He will betray you again.' The Lord of the Dragon Caves was troubled.
Elric of Melnibone (elric saga) Page 14