There was a group of men aboard the sleigh, dressed in heavy furs and mail armour, carrying swords and spears.
“Go away!” I shouted. “Leave me in peace!”
They did not heed me, but turned their weird craft towards the rock.
I picked up the battle-axe by its broken haft. This time, I decided, hallucination or not, I would drive my tormentors away or perish in the attempt.
Now someone was calling to me and the voice seemed familiar. I knew I had heard it in one of my dreams.
“Count Urlik! Count Urlik—is that you?”
The speaker had thrown back his fur hood to reveal a shock of red hair, a young, handsome face.
“Begone!” I cried. “I will listen to no more riddles!”
The face seemed puzzled.
The scaly herons turned in the sky and the baroque sleigh bounced closer. I stood on my ledge, my battle-axe held threateningly in my hand.
“Begone!”
But the herons were over my head. They settled on the top of the crag and folded their leathery wings. From the sleigh the red-haired man jumped, the others following. His arms were spread wide. His face held a grin of relief.
“Count Urlik. We have found you at last. We expected you at the Scarlet Fjord many days since!”
I did not lower my guard.
“Who are you?” I said.
“Why I am Bladrak Morningspear. I am the Hound of the Scarlet Fjord!”
Still I was wary.
“And why are you here?”
He put his hands on his hips and laughed uncertainly. His fur robe fell away to reveal muscular arms on which barbaric golden bracelets were twined.
“We have been seeking you, my lord. Did you not hear the bell?”
“I heard a bell, aye.”
“It was the Bell of Urlik. The Lady of the Chalice told us it would bring you to us to help in our war against the Silver Warriors.”
I slightly relaxed my grip on the broken haft. Then these people really were of this world. But why had Belphig feared them? Now, at least, it seemed, I would find an answer to some of the mysteries.
“Will you return with us, my lord, to the Scarlet Fjord? Will you come aboard our boat?”
Warily, I left the ledge and approached him.
I do not know how many days or hours I had been on the sea-stag’s island, but I suppose I made a peculiar appearance. My eyes were wild and wary, like those of a madman, and I clung to a broken axe as if it were the only thing in the world I trusted.
Bladrak was puzzled but he kept his good humour. He spread one hand out to indicate the boat. “We are relieved to see you, Count Urlik of the Frozen Keep. It is almost too late. We hear the Silver Warriors plan a massive attack on the southern shore.”
“Rowernarc?”
“Aye, Rowernarc and the other settlements.”
“Are you enemies of Rowernarc?”
He smiled. “Well, we are not allies. But let us make haste to return. I will tell you more when we are safe in port. These are dangerous waters.”
I nodded. “I have discovered that.”
Some of the men had been inspecting the cave. They came out, lugging the massive skull of the slain sea-stag.
“Look, Bladrak,” one called. “It has been killed by an axe.”
Bladrak raised his eyebrows and looked at me. “Your axe?”
I nodded. “I had nothing against the poor beast. It was really Belphig’s quarry.”
Bladrak threw back his head and laughed. “Look, friends,” he called, pointing at me, “there is proof we have our Hero!”
Still somewhat dazed, I entered the boat and took my place on one of the benches bolted to the bottom. Bladrak sat beside me. “Let’s be away,” he said.
The men who had found the sea-stag’s skull hastily dumped it in the back of the boat and clambered aboard. Some of them jerked on the herons’ reins and they took to the air again.
Suddenly the boat lunged forward and was flying across the dark sea.
Bladrak looked back. The giant skull had been placed so that it covered a long, slender box which was, in contrast to everything else aboard, completely without ornament. “Be careful of the box,” he said.
“The bell you sounded,” I said. “Did it toll just recently?”
“Aye—we tried again, since you had not come. Then the Lady of the Chalice said that you were somewhere on the Great Salt Sea and so we went looking for you.”
“When did you first summon me?”
“Some sixty days ago.”
“I went to Rowernarc,” I said.
“And Belphig captured you?”
“Perhaps. Yes, I suspect that is what he did. Though I did not know it at the time. What do you know of Belphig, Sir Bladrak?”
“Little enough. He has always been an enemy of the free sailors.”
“Are you those whom he called pirates?”
“Oh, doubtless, aye. Traditionally we have lived by raiding the ships and cities of the softer folk along the coast. But now we give our full attention to the Silver Warriors. With you to aid us we stand some chance of beating them, though time is very short.”
“I hope you do not rely too much on me, Bladrak Morningspear. I have no supernatural powers, I assure you.”
He laughed. “You are very modest for a hero. But I know what you mean—you are without weapons. All that has been dealt with by the Lady of the Chalice.” He flung his hand backward to indicate the slender box in the stern. “See, my lord, we have brought your sword for you!”
2
THE SCARLET FJORD
AT BLADRAK’S WORDS a great sense of dread filled me. I stared at him in horror, hardly able to comprehend what had happened.
I had been manipulated into this situation and Bladrak had been an unknowing agent of this trick.
Bladrak was taken aback. “What is it, my lord? Have we done wrong? Have we done something that will bring doom upon you?”
My voice was hoarse and I hardly knew the words I spoke for, consciously, I still had no idea of the Black Sword’s nature. “Doom on us all, Bladrak Morningspear, in some form or other. Aye, and perhaps the accomplishment of what you desire. Do you know the price?”
“Price?”
My face twisted. I flung my hands to cover it.
“What price is that, Count Urlik?”
I cleared my throat but still did not look at him. “I do not know, Bladrak. That, in time, we shall both discover. As for now, I wish that sword kept away from me. I do not want the box opened.”
“We will do all you desire, Count Urlik. But you will lead us, will you not, against the Silver Warriors?”
I nodded. “If that was why I was called, that is what I will do.”
“Without the sword?”
“Without the sword.”
* * *
I said nothing further on our journey to Bladrak’s home, but sometimes, involuntarily, my eyes strayed to the black box which lay beneath the staring skull of the slain sea-stag. Then I would twist my head away and my melancholy would suffuse my brain.
Then, at last, tall cliffs loomed out of the clouds. Massive, black, they were even more unwelcoming than the obsidian crags of Rowernarc.
Hanging over a part of this range I detected a rosy glow and I stared at it in curiosity.
“What is that?” I asked Bladrak.
He smiled. “The Scarlet Fjord. We are about to enter it.”
We were very close to the cliffs, but we did not alter course. The herons flew directly towards them. Then I saw why. There was a gap between two and deep water filled it. This must be the entrance to the fjord. One of Bladrak’s men raised a huge, curling horn to his lips and blew a wild blast upon it. From above came an answering blast and, looking up, I saw that there were battlements carved on both sides of the narrow opening and at the battlements stood warriors.
It was so dark between the cliffs that I thought we must surely be dashed to pieces, but the herons guided
us around a bend and then I blinked in wonder. The water was scarlet. The air was scarlet. The rock shone with a deep, ruby colour, and the fjord was full of warmth.
The warm, red light issued from the mouths of a thousand caves which honeycombed the eastern wall of the fjord.
“What are those fires?” I asked.
Bladrak shook his head. “None know. They have been there for ever. Some believe them to be volcanic, others say that ancient scientists invented a peculiar kind of fire which fed on rock and air alone, but when they had invented it they had no use for it. They could not put it out, so they buried it. And the Scarlet Fjord was born.”
I could not keep my gaze off the wonder of those burning cliffs. Everything was bathed in the same red light. I felt truly warmed for the first time since I had arrived.
Bladrak indicated the western and southern walls of the fjord. “That is where we live.”
Carved where the cliffs met the water were long quays. At these quays were tied many boats of a similar design to that in which we sailed. Above the quays were ramps and steps and terraces. Plain, square doorways had been cut from the rock and outside them now stood hosts of men, women and children, all dressed in simple, plain-coloured smocks, tabards and dresses.
When they saw us head for the southern quay they began to cheer. Then they began to chant.
It was one word they chanted.
“Urlik! Urlik! Urlik!”
Bladrak raised his arms to them, begging for silence, his grin widening as they only reluctantly subsided.
“Friends of the Scarlet Fjord! Free folk of the South! Bladrak has returned with Count Urlik who will save us. Look!” He pointed dramatically first at the sea-stag’s skull and then at my broken axe. “With that axe alone he killed the Bellyripper. Thus will we destroy the Silver Warriors who enslave our brothers of the North!”
And this time the cheer, to my embarrassment, was even louder. I resolved to tell Bladrak as soon as possible that I had not been solely responsible for slaying the stag.
The boat was berthed and we stepped onto the quay. Rosy-cheeked women approached us and embraced Bladrak, curtseyed to me.
I could not help but notice the contrast between these folk and the neurasthenic people of Rowernarc, with their pale skins and their unhealthy appetites. Perhaps it was that the folk of Rowernarc were overcivilised and could only think of the future, while the dwellers of the Scarlet Fjord lived in the present, concerning themselves with immediate problems.
And the immediate problem of these people was plainly the threat of the Silver Warriors.
At least, I told myself, I would not now be dealing with the evasions of a Bishop Belphig. Bladrak would tell me everything he knew.
The so-called Hound of the Scarlet Fjord led me into his apartments. They were comfortably furnished and lit by lamps that also shone with a rosy glow. The decoration of the furniture and wall hangings more closely resembled those that I had seen on my chariot and my weapons when I had found myself on the frozen plain.
I sat down thankfully in a chair carved from solid amber and surprisingly comfortable. Many of the furnishings were in amber and the table itself was carved from a solid block of quartz.
I could not help reflecting on the irony that if Man’s history had begun with the Stone Age it was about to end with a Stone Age, also.
The food was simple but tasty and I learned from Bladrak that this, like that of Rowernarc, was grown in special gardens in the deepest caves.
When we had eaten, we sat with our wine-cups and said nothing for a while.
Then I spoke.
“Bladrak. You must assume that my memory is poor and answer even the simplest questions I ask you. I have endured much of late and it has made me forgetful.”
“I understand,” he said. “What do you wish to know?”
“First, exactly how I was summoned.”
“You know that you slept in the Frozen Keep, far away on the South Ice?”
“I know that I found myself on the South Ice, riding in a chariot towards the coast.”
“Aye—heading for the Scarlet Fjord. But as you came along the coast you were diverted at Rowernarc.”
“That explains much,” I said, “for I could find no-one there who admitted to summoning me. Indeed, some, like Belphig, seemed to resent me.”
“Aye, and they held you there until they could maroon you on the island we found you on.”
“Perhaps that was their intention. I am not sure. But why Belphig should wish to do such a thing is hard to say.”
“The brains of the folk of Rowernarc are—” Bladrak gestured at his head with his finger—“addled—askew—I know not—something…”
“But Belphig must have known of the bell, for when it sounded a second time he turned the ship about and your name was mentioned. That means that he knew you were summoning me. And they did not tell me. Why did the bell sound over the sea? And why did I not hear a bell the first time, only a voice.”
Bladrak looked at his beaker. “They say the bell speaks with a human voice across the planes of the universe, but only sounds like a bell on this plane. I do not know if that is true, for I have only heard it ring in the ordinary way.”
“Where is the bell?”
“I know not. We pray, the bell rings. The Lady of the Chalice told us that.”
“Who is the Lady of the Chalice? Does she appear with a gigantic golden cup which screams?”
“Nay…” Bladrak gave me a sideways look. “That is just her name. She came to us when the danger of the Silver Warriors grew great. She said there was a hero who would help us. She said he was Urlik Skarsol, Count of the White Wastes, Lord of the Frozen Keep, Prince of the Southern Ice, Master of the Cold Sword…”
“The Cold Sword? Not the Black Sword?”
“The Cold Sword.”
“Continue.”
“The Lady of the Chalice said that if we called the hero urgently enough it would sound Urlik’s Bell which would summon him. He would come to our aid, he would take up the Cold Sword and the blood of the Silver Warriors would fill the Chalice and feed the Sun.”
I sighed. I supposed that the Cold Sword was the local name for the Black Sword. Jermays had said the sword had many names on many worlds. But something within me was still resolute.
“We shall have to manage against the Silver Warriors without the sword,” I said firmly. “Now tell me who these warriors are.”
“They came from nowhere a year or so since. It is believed that they are Moonites whose own home grew too cold to support them. They have a cruel queen it is said, but none has ever seen her. They are virtually invulnerable to ordinary weapons and therefore well-nigh invincible in battle. They easily took the cities of the Northern coast, one after the other. Most of the people there, like those of Rowernarc, are too self-absorbed to know what happens to them. But the Silver Warriors have enslaved them and put them to death and made them brainless, inhuman creatures. We are the free sailors, we lived off the soft citizens, but now we rescue those we can and bring them here. For some while that is what we have been doing. But now all the signs show that the Silver Warriors are planning to attack the Southern coasts. In a direct fight we could not possibly defeat them. Soon the whole race will be enslaved.”
“Are these warriors of flesh and blood?” I asked, for I had the notion that they might be robots or androids of some kind.
“Aye, they are of flesh and blood. They are tall and thin and arrogant and speak rarely and wear that strange silver armour. Their faces, too, are silver, as are their hands. We have seen no other parts of their bodies.”
“You have never captured one?”
“Never. Their armour burns us when we touch it.”
I frowned.
“And what do you want me to do?” I asked.
“Lead us. Be our Hero.”
“But you seem well equipped to lead your folk.”
“I am. But we are dealing here with something beyond our
usual experience. You are a Hero—you can anticipate more things than can we.”
“I hope you are right,” I said. “I hope you are right, Sir Bladrak of the Scarlet Fjord.”
3
THE RAID ON NALANARC
BLADRAK INFORMED ME that an expedition against the Silver Warriors was already planned for the next day. The ships had been prepared for it and he had been awaiting my arrival before setting off against the island of Nalanarc which lay a few miles distant from the north-western coast. The object of the raid was not to kill the Silver Warriors, but to rescue the prisoners they had on the island. Bladrak was not sure what the prisoners were being used for, but he suspected they were engaged in making ships and weapons for the attack the Silver Warriors planned on the Southern coast shortly.
“How do you know they plan this attack?” I asked.
“We got the news from some of the slaves we rescued. Besides, it’s been obvious to anyone who’s been near ’em that they’re planning the attack on the South. What would you do if you were a conqueror and were constantly raided from one particular area?”
“Set out to eliminate the source of my irritation,” I said.
* * *
When the great fleet sailed I sailed with it.
We left the waving, cheering women behind in the Scarlet Fjord, passed between the cliffs and were soon on the open sea.
Initially there was some confusion as the herons crossed some of their lines and had to be untangled, but this did not last long and soon we were heading north.
Bladrak was singing some obscure, symbolic chant that I doubt even he knew the meaning of. He seemed full of high spirits though I discovered he had made no specific plans for the raid, save to get there somehow and get the slaves off somehow.
I outlined a plan to him and he listened with keen interest. “Very well,” he said, “we’ll try it.”
It was a simple enough plan and, not knowing the Silver Warriors, I had no idea if it would work or not.
We sped over the waters for some time, the runners of the sleds skipping over the thick surface.
Through the murk we passed until a large island could be seen ahead.
Phoenix in Obsidian Page 9