The Fortress of the Pearl eas-2

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by Michael Moorcock


  Elric did not sheath Stormbringer. He knew enough to understand that these warriors might well be saving him only incidentally and might even blame him for being in their way. The other possibility, which was stronger, was that these men had been following him for some time and did not wish the firebeetles to cheat them of their prey.

  Now one of the yellow-clad riders detached himself from the throng and galloped up to Elric, hailing him with spear raised.

  "I thank you mightily," the albino said. "You have saved my life, sir. I trust I did not disrupt your hunt too much."

  The rider was taller than Elric, very thin, with a gaunt dark face and black eyes. His head was shaved and both his lips were decorated, apparently with tiny tattoos, as if he wore a mask of fine, multicoloured lace across his mouth. The spear was not sheathed and Elric prepared to defend himself, knowing that his chances against even so many human beings were greater than they had been against the firebeetles.

  The man frowned at Elric's statement, puzzled for a moment. Then his brow cleared. "We did not hunt the firebeetles. We saw what was happening and realised that you did not know enough to get out of the creatures' way. We came as quickly as we could. I am Manag Iss of the Yellow Sect, kinsman to Councillor Iss. I am of the Sorcerer Adventurers."

  Elric had heard of these sects, who had been the chief warrior caste of Quarzhasaat and had been largely responsible for the spells which inundated the Empire with sand. Had Lord Gho, not trusting him completely, set them to following him? Or were they assassins instructed to kill him?

  "I thank you, nonetheless, Manag Iss, for your intervention. I owe you my life. I am honoured to meet one of your sect. I am Elric of Nadsokor in the Young Kingdoms."

  "Aye, we know of you. We were trailing you, waiting until we were far enough from the city to speak to you safely."

  "Safely? You're in no danger from me, Master Sorcerer Adventurer."

  Manag Iss was evidently not a man who smiled often and when he smiled now it was a strange contortion of the face. Behind them, other members of the sect were beginning to ride back, rehousing their long spears in the scabbards attached to their saddles. "I did not think we were, Master Elric. We come to you in peace and we are your friends, if you will have us. My kinswoman sends her greetings. She is the wife of Councillor Iss. Iss remains, however, our family name. We all tend to marry the same blood, our clan."

  "I am glad to make your acquaintance." Elric waited for the man to speak further.

  Manag Iss waved a long, brown hand whose nails had been removed and replaced with the same tattoos as those on his mouth. "Would you dismount and talk, for we come with messages and the offer of gifts."

  Elric slipped Stormbringer back into the scabbard and swung his leg over his saddle, sliding to the dust of the Red Road. He watched as the beetles lurched slowly away, perhaps in search of more man-rats, their smoking backs reminding him of the fires of the leper camps on the outskirts of Jadmar.

  "My kinswoman wishes you to know that she, as well as the Yellow Sect, is at your service, Master Elric. We are prepared to give you whatever aid you require in seeking out the Pearl at the Heart of the World."

  Now Elric felt a certain amusement. "I fear you have me at a disadvantage, Sir Manag Iss. Do you journey in quest of treasure?"

  Manag Iss let an expression of mild impatience cross his strange face. "It is known that your patron Lord Gho Fhaazi has promised the Pearl at the Heart of the World to the Nameless Seventh and she, hi turn, has promised him the new place on the Council in return. We have discovered enough to know that only an exceptional thief could have been commissioned to this task. And Nadsokor is famous for her exceptional thieves. It is a task which, I am sure you know, all Sorcerer Adventurers have failed hi completing. For centuries members of every sect have tried to find the Pearl at the Heart of the World, whenever the Blood Moon rises. Those few who ever survived to return to Quarzhasaat were raving mad and died soon after. Only recently have we received some little knowledge and evidence that the Pearl does actually exist. We know, therefore, that you are a dreamthief, though you disguise your profession by not carrying your hooked staff, for we now know that only a dreamthief of the greatest skill could reach the Pearl and bring it back."

  "You tell me more than I knew, Manag Iss," said Elric seriously. "And it is true that I am commissioned by Lord Gho Fhaazi. But know you this also-I go upon this journey reluctantly." And Elric trusted his instincts enough to reveal to Manag Iss the hold that Lord Gho had over him.

  Manag Iss plainly believed him. His tattooed fingertips brushed lightly over the tattoos of his lips as he considered this information. "That elixir is well-known to the Sorcerer Adventurers. We have distilled it for millennia. It is true that it feeds the very substance of the user back to him. The antidote is much harder to prepare. I am surprised that Lord Gho claims to possess it. Only certain sects of the Sorcerer Adventurers own small quantities. If you would return with us to Quarzhasaat we shall, I know, be able to administer the antidote to you within a day at the most."

  Elric considered this carefully. Manag Iss was employed by one of Lord Gho's rivals. This made him suspicious of any offer, no matter how generous it seemed. Councillor Iss, or the Lady Iss, or whoever it was desired to place their own candidate upon the Council, would no doubt be prepared to stop at nothing to achieve that end. For all Elric knew, Manag Iss's offer might merely be a means of lulling him out of his wariness so that he might be the more easily murdered.

  "You'll forgive me if I am blunt," said the albino, "but I have no means of trusting you, Manag Iss. I know already that Quarzhasaat is a city whose chief sport is intrigue and I have no wish to be involved in that game of plots and counterplots which your fellow citizens seem to enjoy so thoroughly. If the antidote to the elixir exists, as you say, I would be better disposed to consider your claims if, for instance, you were to meet me at the Silver Flower Oasis in, say, six days from today. I have enough elixir to last me three weeks, which is the time of the Blood Moon plus the time of my journey from and to your city. This will convince me of your altruism."

  "I shall also be frank," said Manag Iss, his voice cool. "I am commissioned and bound by my blood oath, my sect contract and my honour as a member of our holy guild. That commission is to convince you, by any means, either to relinquish your quest or to sell the Pearl. If you will not relinquish the quest, then I will agree to purchase the Pearl from you at any price save, of course, a position on our Council. Therefore, I will match Lord Gho's offer and add to it anything else you desire."

  Elric spoke with some regret. "You cannot match his offer, Manag Iss. There is the matter of the boy whom he will kill."

  "The boy is of little importance, surely."

  "Not, doubtless, in the great scheme of things as they are played out in Quarzhasaat." Elric grew weary.

  Realising he had made a tactical mistake, Manag Iss said hastily: "We'll rescue the boy. Tell us how to find him."

  "I think I'll keep to my original bargain," said Elric. "There seems little to choose between the offers." "What if Lord Gho was assassinated?" Elric shrugged and made to remount. "I'm grateful for your intervention, Manag Iss. I'll consider your offer as I ride. You'll appreciate I have little time to find the Fortress of the Pearl."

  "Master Thief, I would warn you-" At this Manag Iss broke off. He looked behind him, along the Red Road. There was a faint cloud of dust to be seen. Out of it emerged dim shapes, their robes pale green and Sowing behind them as they rode. Manag Iss cursed. But he was smiling his peculiar smile as the leaders galloped up.

  It was clear to Elric, from their garb, that these men were also members of the Sorcerer Adventurers. They, too, had tattoos, but upon the eyelids and the wrists, and their billowing surcoats, which reached to their ankles, bore an embroidered flower upon them while the trimming of sleeves had the same design in miniature. The leader of these newcomers jumped from his horse and approached Manag Iss. He was a short man, handsome an
d clean-shaven save for a tiny goatee which was oiled in the fashion of Quarzhasaat and drawn to an exaggerated point. Unlike the Yellow Sect members, he carried a sword, unscabbarded in a simple leather harness. He made a sign which Manag Iss imitated.

  "Greetings, Oled Alesham, and peace upon you. The Yellow Sect wishes great successes to the Foxglove Sect and is curious as to why you travel so far along the Red Road." All this was spoken rapidly, a formality. Manag Iss doubtless was as aware as Elric why Oled Alesham and his men followed.

  "We ride to give protection to this thief," said the leader of the Foxglove Sect with a nod of acknowledgement to Elric. "He is a stranger to our land and we would offer him help, as is our ancient custom."

  Elric himself smiled openly at this. "And are you, Master Oled Alesham, related, by any chance, to some member of the Six and One Other?"

  Oled Alesham's sense of humour was better developed than that of Manag Iss. "Oh, we are all related to everyone in Quarzhasaat, Sir Thief. We are on our way to the Silver Flower Oasis and thought you might require assistance with your quest."

  "He has no quest," said Manag Iss, then instantly regretted the stupidity of the He. "No quest, that is, save the one he shares with his friends of the Yellow Sect."

  "Since we are bound by our guild loyalties not to fight, we are not, I hope, going to quarrel over who is to escort our guest to the Silver Flower Oasis," said Oled Alesham with a chuckle. He was greatly amused by the situation. "Are we all to journey together, perhaps? And each receive a little piece of the Pearl?"

  "There is no Pearl," said Elric, "and shall not be if I am further hindered in my journey. I thank you, gentlemen, for your concern, and I bid you all good afternoon."

  This caused some consternation amongst the two rival sects and they were attempting to decide what to do when over the rubble created by the firebeetles there rode about a dozen black-clad, heavily veiled and cowled warriors, their swords already drawn.

  Elric, guessing these to mean him no good, withdrew so that Manag Iss and Oled Alesham and their men were surrounding him. "More of your kind, gentlemen?" he asked, his hand on the hilt of his own sword.

  "They are the Moth Brotherhood," said Oled Alesham, "and they are assassins. They do nothing but kill, Sir Thief. You would best throw in with us. Evidently someone has determined that you should be murdered before you even see the Blood Moon rising."

  "Will you help me defend myself?" said the albino, getting ready to fight.

  "We cannot," said Manag Iss, and he sounded genuinely regretful. "We cannot do battle with our own kind. But they will not kill us if we surround you. You would be best advised to accept our offer, Sir Thief."

  Then the impatient rage which was a mark of his ancient blood took hold of Elric and he drew Stormbringer without further ado. "I am tired of these little bargains," he said. "I would ask you to stand aside from me, Manag Iss, for I mean to do battle."

  "There are too many!" Oled Alesham was shocked. "You'll be butchered. These are skilled killers!"

  "Oh, so am I, Master Sorcerer Adventurer. So am I!" And with that Elric drove his horse forward, through the startled ranks of Yellow and Foxglove Sects, directly at the leader of the Moth Brotherhood.

  The runesword began to howl in unison with its master and the white-face glowed with the energy of the damned while the red eyes blazed and the Sorcerer Adventurers realised for the first tune that an extraordinary creature had come amongst them and that they had underestimated him.

  Stormbringer rose in Elric's gloved hand, its black metal catching the rays of the glaring sun and seeming to absorb them. The black blade fell, almost as if by accident, and split the skull of the Moth Brotherhood's leader, clove him to his breastbone and howled as it sucked the man's soul from him in the very split second of his dying. Elric turned in his saddle, the sword swinging to bury its edge in the side of the assassin riding up on his left. The man shrieked. "It has me! Ah, no!" And he, too, died.

  Now the other veiled riders were warier, circling the albino at some distance while they determined their strategy. They had thought they would need none, that all they must do was ride a Young Kingdom thief down and destroy him. There were five of the black riders left. They were calling on their fellow guild members for aid, but neither Manag Iss nor Oled Alesham was ready to give orders to their own people which could result in the unholy death they had already witnessed.

  Elric showed no such prudence. He rode directly at the next assassin, who parried with great cleverness and even struck under Elric's guard for a second before his arm was severed and he fell back hi his saddle, blood gouting from the stump. Another graceful movement, half Elric's, half his sword's, and that man, too, had his soul drawn from him. Now the others fell back amongst the yellow and green robes of their brothers. There was panic in their eyes. They recognised sorcery even if this was something more powerful than they had ever anticipated.

  "Hold! Hold!" cried Manag Iss. "There is no need for any more of us to die! We are here to make the thief an offer. Did old Duke Ral send you here?"

  "He wants no more intrigue around the Pearl," growled one of the veiled men. "He said clean death was the best solution. But these deaths are not clean for us."

  "Those who commission us have set the pattern," said Oled Alesham. "Thief! Put up your sword. We do not wish to fight you!"

  "I believe that." Elric was grim. The bloodlust was still upon him and he fought to control it. "I believe you merely wish to slay me without a fight. You are fools all. I have already warned Lord Gho of this. I have the power to destroy you. It is your good fortune that I am sworn to myself not to use my power merely to make others perform my will to my own selfish ends. But I am not sworn to let myself die at the hands of hired slaughterers! Go back! Go back to Quarzhasaat!"

  This last was almost screamed and the sword echoed it as he lifted the great black blade into the sky, to warn them of what would befall them if they did not obey.

  Manag Iss said softly to Elric: "We cannot, Sir Thief. We can only pursue our commissions. It is the way of our guild, of all the Sorcerer Adventurers. Once we have agreed to perform a task, then the task must be performed. Death is the only excuse for failure."

  "Then I must kill you all," said Elric simply. "Or you must kill me."

  "We can still make the bargain I spoke of," said Manag Iss. "I was not deceiving you, Sir Thief."

  "My offer, too, is sound," said Oled Alesham.

  "But the Moth Brotherhood is sworn to kill me," Elric pointed out, almost amused, "and you cannot defend me against them. Nor, I would guess, can you do anything but aid them against me."

  Manag Iss was trying to draw back from the black-robed assassins but it was clear they were determined to retain the safety of their guild ranks.

  Then Oled Alesham murmured something to the leader of the Yellow Sect which made Manag Iss thoughtful. He nodded and signed to the remaining members of the Moth Brotherhood. For a few moments they were in conference, then Manag Iss looked up and addressed Elric.

  "Sir Thief, we have found a formula which will leave you in peace and allow us to return with honour to Quarzhasaat. If we retreat now, will you promise not to follow us?"

  "If I have your word you'll not let those Moths attack me again." Elric was calmer now. He laid the crooning runeblade across his arm.

  "Put away your swords, brothers!" cried Oled Alesham, and the Moths obeyed at once.

  Next Elric sheathed Stormbringer. The unholy energy which he had drawn from those who sought to slay him was filling him now and he felt all the old heightened sensibility of his race, all the arrogance and all the power of his ancient blood. He laughed at his enemies. "Know you not whom you would kill, gentlemen?"

  Oled Alesham scowled a little. "I am beginning to guess a little of your origins, Sir Thief. Tis said that the lords of the Bright Empire carried such blades as yours once, in a time before this time. In a time before history. 'Tis said those blades are living things, a race allied to
your own. You have the look of our long-lost enemies. Does this mean that Melniboné did not drown?"

  "I'll leave that for you to think on, Master Oled Alesham." Elric suspected that they plotted some trick but was almost careless. "If your people spent less time maintaining their own devalued myths about themselves and more upon studying the world as it is, I think your city would have a greater chance of surviving. As it is, the place is crumbling beneath the weight of its own degraded fictions. The legends which offer a race their sense of pride and history eventually become putrid. If Melniboné drowns, Master Sorcerer Adventurer, it will be as Quarzhasaat drowns now..."

  "We are unconcerned with matters of philosophy," Manag Iss said with evident poor temper. "We do not question the motives or the y ideas of those who employ us. That is written in our charters."

  "And must therefore be obeyed!" Elric smiled. "Thus you celebrate your decadence and resist reality."

  "Go now," said Oled Alesham. "It is not your business to instruct us in moral matters and not ours to listen. We have left our student days behind."

  Elric accepted this mild rebuke and turned his tiring horse again towards the Silver Flower Oasis. He did not look back once at the Sorcerer Adventurers but guessed them to be deeper than ever in conversation. He began to whistle as the Red Road stretched before him and the stolen energy of his enemies filled bun with euphoria. His thoughts were on Cymoril and his return to Melniboné, where he hoped to ensure his nation's survival by bringing about hi her the very changes he had spoken of to the Sorcerer Adventurers. At this moment, his goal seemed a little closer, his mind clearer than it had been for several months.

  Night seemed to come swiftly and with it a rapid descent hi temperature which left the albino shivering and robbed him of some of his good humour. He drew heavier robes from his saddle-bags and donned them as he tethered his horse and prepared to build a fire. The elixir on which he had depended had not been touched since his encounter with the Sorcerer Adventurers and he was beginning to understand its nature a little better. The craving had faded, although he was still conscious of it, and he could now hope to free himself of his dependency without need of further bargaining with Lord Gho.

 

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