Elric was in a grim and thoughtful mood. For a while the Dhariiorian and Pan Tang conquerors would be busy consolidating their new-won empire. Perhaps there would be quarrels between them when this was done, perhaps not. But soon, anyway, they would be very powerful and threatening the security of other nations on the Southern and Eastern Continents. But all this, however much it overshadowed the fate of the whole world, meant little to Elric for he still could not clearly see his way to Zarozinia. He remembered the dead creature's prophecy, part of which had now come about. But still it meant little. He felt as if he were being driven constantly westwards, as if he must go further and further into the sparsely-settled lands beyond Jharkor. Was it here his destiny lay? Was it here that Zarozinia's captors were?
Beyond the ocean brews a battle;
Beyond the battle blood shall fall...
Well, had the blood fallen, or was it yet to fall? What was the 'twin' that Elric's kinsman, Dyvim Slorm, bore? Who was the one who should not live?
Perhaps the secret lay in the mountains ahead of them? Beneath the moon they rode, and at last came to a gorge. Half-way along It they located a cave and lay down inside to rest.
In the morning, Brie was awakened by a sound outside the cave. Instantly he drew Stormbringer and crept to the mouth of the cave. What he saw caused him to sheathe the blade and call in a soft voice to the battered man who was riding up the gorge towards the cave. «Here, herald! We are friends! »
The man was one of Yishana's heralds. His surcoat was in ribbons, his armour crumpled on his body. He was swordless and without a helmet, a young man with his face made gaunt by weariness and despair. He looked up and relief came when he recognised Elric.
«My lord Elric - they said you were slain on the field.»
«I'm glad they did, since that makes pursuit less likely. Come inside.»
The others were awake now-all but one. Yedn-pad-Juizev had died, sleeping, in the night Orozn yawned and jerked a thumb at the corpse. «If we do not find food soon, I’ll be tempted to eat our dead friend.»
The man looked at Brie for response to this jest, but seeing the albino's expression he was abashed and retreated to the depths of the cave grumbling and kicking at loose stones.
Elric leant against the wall of the cave near the opening. «What news have you?» he asked.
«Dark news, my lord. From Shazar to Tarkesh black misery prevails and iron and fire beat across nations like an unholy storm. We are fully conquered. Only small bands of men carry on a hopeless struggle against the enemy. Some of our folk are already talking of turning bandit and preying on each other, so desperate have times become.»
Elric nodded. «Such is what happens when foreign allies are beaten on friendly soil. What of Queen Yishana?»
«She fared ill, my lord. Clad in metal, she battled against a score of men before expiring-her body torn asunder by the force of their attack. Sarosto took her bead for a keepsake and added it to other trophies including the hands of Karnarl, his half-brother who opposed him over the Pan Tang alliance, the eyes of Penik of Nargesser, who raised an army against him in that province. Theocrat Jagreen Lern ordered that all other prisoners be tortured to death and hanged in chains through the lands as warning against insurrection. They are an unholy pair, my lord»
Elric's mouth grew tight when he heard this. Already it was becoming clear to him that his only route was westwards, for the conquerors would soon search him out if he went back. He turned to Dyvim Slonn. The Imrryrian's shirt was in raffs and his left arm covered in dried blood.
«Our destiny appears to lie in the west, » he said quietly.
«Then let us make speed, » said his cousin, »for I am impatient to get it over and at least learn whether we live or perish in this enterprise. We gained nothing by our encounter with the enemy, but wasted time.»
«I pained something.» Elric said, remembering his fight with Jagreen Lern. «I gained the knowledge that Jagreen Lern is connected in some way with the kidnapping of my wife-and if he had aught to do with it, I'll claim my vengeance no matter what.»
«Now,» said Dyvim Slonn. «Let us make haste to the west»
Four
They drove deeper into the mountains that day, avoiding the few hunting parties sent out by the conquerors, but the two Imrryrians, recognising that their leaders were on a special journey, left to go in another direction. The herald was gone southward to spread his gloomy news so that only Elric, Dyvim Slorm and Orozn were left. They did not welcome Orozn's company, but bore with it for the meanwhile.
Then, after a day, Orozn disappeared and Elric and Dyvim Slorm ranged deeper into the black crags, riding through towering, oppressive canyons or along narrow paths.
Snow lay on the mountains, bright white against sharp black, filling gorges, making paths slippery and dangerous. Then one evening they came to a place where the mountains opened out into a wide valley and they rode, with difficulty down the foothills of the mountains, their tracks making great black scars in the snow and their horses steaming, their breath billowing white in the cold air.
They observed a rider coming across the valley floor towards them. One rider they did not fear, so they waited for him to approach. To their surprise it was Orozn, clad in fresh garments of wolfskin and deer hide. He greeted them in a friendly manner.
«I have come seeking you both. You must have taken a more difficult route than mine.»
«From where have you come?» Elric asked; his face was drawn, his cheek-bones emphasised by the sunken skin. He looked more like a wolf than ever with his red eyes gleaming. Zarozinia's fate weighed heavily on his mind.
'There is a settlement nearby. Come, I will take you to it»
They followed Orozn for some way and it was getting near nightfall, the setting sun staining the mountains scarlet, when they reached the opposite side of the valley, dotted with a few birch trees and, further up, a cluster of firs.
Orozn led them into this grove.
They came screaming out of the dark. a dozen swarthy men, possessed by hatred-and something else. Weapons were raised in mailed hands. By their armour, these men were from Pan Tang. Orozn must have been captured and persuaded to lead Elric and his cousin into ambush.
Elric turned his horse, rearing.
«Orozn! You betrayed us! »
But Orozn was riding.. He looked back once, his pale face tortured with guilt. Then his eyes darted away from Elric and Dyvim Slorm and he frowned, rode down the moss-wet hill back into the howling darkness of the night.
Elric lifted Stormbringer from his belt, gripped the hut, blocked a blow from a brass-studded mace, slid his sword down the handle and sheared off his attacker's fingers. He and Dyvim Slorm were soon surrounded, yet he fought on, Stormbringer shrilling a wild, lawless song of death.
But Elric and Dyvim Slorm were still weak from the rigours of their past adventures. Not even Stormbringer's evil strength was sufficient fully to revitalise Elric's deficient veins and he was filled with fear-sot of the attackers, but of the fact that he was doomed to die or be captured. And he had the feeling that these warriors had no knowledge of their master's pan in the matter of the prophecy, did not realise that, perhaps, he was not meant to die at that moment.
In fact he decided, as he battled, a great mistake was about to be perpetrated...
«Arioch! » he cried in his fear to the demon-god of Melnibone. «Arioch! Aid me! Blood and souls for thine aid! »
But that intractable entity sent no aid.
Dyvim Slorm's long blade caught a man. Just below his gorget and pierced him through the throat The other Pan Tang horsemen threw themselves at him but were driven back by his sweeping sword. Dyvim Slorm shouted: «Why do we worship such a god when whim decides him so often?»
«Perhaps he thinks our time has come! » Elric yelled back as his runeblade drank another foe's life-force.
Tiring fast, they fought on until a new sound broke above the clash of arms-the sound of chariots and low, moaning cries.<
br />
Then they were sweeping into the melee black men with handsome features and thin, proud mouths, their magnificent bodies half-naked as their cloaks of white fox fur streamed behind them and their javelins were flung with terrible accuracy at the bewildered men of Pan Tang.
Elric sheathed his sword and remained ready to fight or flee. «This is the one-the white-faced one! » cried a black charioteer as he saw Elric. The chariots rolled to a halt, tall horses stamping and snorting. Elric rode up to the leader.
«I am grateful, » he said, half falling from his saddle in weariness. He turned the droop of his shoulders into a bow. «You appear to know me-you are the third I've met while on this quest who recognises me without my being able to return the compliment.»
The leader tugged the fox cape about his naked chest and smiled with his thin lips. «I'm named Sepiriz and you will know me soon enough. As for you, we have known of you for thousands of years. Elric are you not-last king of Melnibone?»
«That is true.»
«And you, » Sepiriz addressed Dyviro Slorm. «Are Elric's cousin. Together you represent the last of the pure line of Melnibone.»
«Aye, » Dyvim Slorm agreed, curiosity in his eyes.
«Then we have been waiting for you to pass this way. There was a prophecy...»
«You are the captors of Zarozinia?» Elric reached for his sword.
Sepiriz shook his head. «No, but we can tell you where she is. Calm yourself. Though I realise the agony of mind you must be suffering, I will be better able to explain all I know back in our own domain.»
«First tell us who you are, » Elric demanded.
Sepiriz smiled slightly. «You know us. I think-or at least you know of us. There was a certain friendship between your ancestors and our folk in the early years of the Bright Empire.» He paused a moment before continuing: «Have you ever heard legends, in Imrryr perhaps, of the Ten from the mountain? The ten who sleep in the mountain of fire?»
«Many times.» Elric drew in his breath. «Now I recognise you by description. But it is said that you sleep for centuries in the mountain of fire. Why are you roaming abroad in this manner?»
«We were driven by an eruption from our volcano home which had been dormant for two thousand years. Such movements of nature have been taking place an over the earth of late. Our time, we knew, had come to awaken again. We were servants of Fate-and our mission is strongly bound up with your destiny. We bear a message for you from Zarozinia's captor - and another from a different source. Would you return now, with us, to the Chasm of Nihrain and learn all we can tell you?»
Elric pondered for a moment, then he lifted his white face and said: «I am in haste to claim vengeance, Sepiriz. But if what you can tell me will lead me closer to claiming it. I’ll come.»
«Then come! » The black giant Jerked the reins of his horse and turned the chariot about.
It was a journey of a day and a night to the Chasm of Nihrain, a huge gaping fissure high in the mountains, a place avoided by all; it had supernatural significance for those who dwelt near the mountains.
The lordly Nihrain conversed little on the Journey and at last they were above the Chasm, driving their chariots down the steep path which wound into its dark depths.
About half a mile down no light penetrated, but they saw ahead of them flickering torches that illuminated part of the carved outline of an unearthly mural or betrayed a gaping opening in the solid rock. Then, as they guided their horses down further, they saw, in detail, the awe-inspiring city of Nihrain which outsiders had not glimpsed for many centuries. The last of the Nihrain now lived here; ten immortal men of a race older even than that of Melnibone which had a history of twenty thousand years.
Huge columns rose above them, hewn ages before from the living rock, giant statues and wide balconies, many-tiered. Windows a hundred feet high and sweeping steps cut into the face of the chasm. The Ten drove their yellow chariots through a mighty gate and into the caverns of Nihrain, carved to their entire extent with strange symbols and Stranger murals. Here slaves, wakened from a sleep of centuries to tend their masters, ran forward. Even these did not fully bear resemblance to the men that Elric knew.
Sepiriz gave the reins to a slave as Elric and Dyvim Slorm dismounted, staring about them in awe. He said: «Now-to my own chambers and there I'll inform you of what you wish to know-and what you must do.»
Led by Sepiriz, the kinsmen stalked impatiently through galleries and into a large chamber full of dark sculpture. A number of fires burned behind this hall, in big grates. Sepiriz folded his great body into a chair and bade them sit in two similar chairs, carved from solid blocks of ebony. When they were all seated before one of the fires, Sepiriz took a long breath, staring around the hall, perhaps remembering its earlier history.
Somewhat angered by this show of casualness, Elric said impatiently: «Forgive me, Sepiriz-but you promised to pass on your message to us.»
«Yes, » Sepiriz said, »but so much do I have to tell you that I must pause one moment to collect my thoughts.» He settled himself in the chair before continuing.
«We know where your wife, is, » he said at last, »and know also that she is safe. She will not be harmed since she is to be bargained for something which you possess.»
«Then tell me the whole story, » Elric demanded bleakly.
«We were friendly with your ancestors. Elric. And we were friendly with those they superseded, the ones who forged that blade you bear.»
Elric was interested in spite of his anxiety. For years he had attempted to rid himself of the runesword, but had never succeeded. All his efforts had failed and he still needed to carry it, although drugs now gave him most of his strength.
«Would you be rid of your sword, Elric?» Sepiriz said.
«Aye-it's well known.»
«Then listen to this tale.
«We know for whom and for what the blade-and its twin-were forged. They were made for a special purpose and for special men. Only Melniboneans may carry them, and of those only the blood of the royal line.»
«There is no hint of any special purpose for the swords in Melnibonean history or legend, » Elric said leaning forward.
«Some secrets are best kept fully guarded, » Sepiriz said calmly. «Those blades were forged to destroy a group of very powerful beings. Among them are the Dead Gods.»
«The Dead Gods-but, by their very name, you must know that they perished long ages ago.»
«They 'perished' as you say. In human terms they are dead. But they chose to die, chose to rid themselves of material shape and hurled their life-stuff into the blackness of eternity, for in those days they were full of fear.»
Elric had no real conception of what Sepiriz described but he accepted what the Nihrainian said and listened on.
«One of them has returned, » Sepiriz said.
«Why?»
«To get, at any cost, two things which endanger him and his fellow gods-wherever they may be they can still be harmed by these things.»
«They are...?»
«They have the earthly appearance of two swords, runecarved and sorcerous - Mournblade and Stormbringer.»
«This, » Elric touched his blade. «Why should the gods fear this? And the other went to Limbo with my cousin Yyrkoon whom I killed many years ago. It is lost»
«That is not true. We recovered it-that was part of Fate's purpose for us. We have it here in Nihrain. The blades were forged for your ancestors who drove the Dead Gods away by means of them. They were made by other unhuman smiths who were also enemies of the Dead Gods. These smiths were compelled to combat evil with evil, although they, themselves, were not pledged to Chaos, but to Law. They forged the swords for several reasons-ridding the world of the Dead Gods was but one! »
«The other reasons?»
«Those you shall learn in times to come-for our relationship will not be ended until the whole destiny has been worked out. We are obliged not to reveal the other reasons until the proper time. You have a dangero
us destiny, Elric, and I do not envy it»
«But what is the message you have?» Elric said impatiently.
«Due to the disturbance created by Jagreen Lern, one of the Dead Gods has been enabled to return to earth, as I told you. He has gathered acolytes about him. They kidnapped your wife.»
Elric felt a mood of deep despair creep over him. Must he defy such power as this?
«Why...?» he whispered.
«Darnizhaan is aware that Zarozinia is important to you. He wishes to barter her for the two swords. We, in this matter, are merely messengers. We must give up the sword we keep at the request of you or Dyvim Slorm, for they rightfully belong to any of the royal line. Darnizhaan's terms are simple. He will dispatch Zarozinia to Limbo unless you give him the blades which threaten his existence. Her death, it would not be death as we know it, would be unpleasant and eternal.»
«And if I agreed to do that, what would happen?»
«All the Dead Gods would return. Only the power of the swords keeps them from doing so now! »
«And what would happen if the Dead Gods came back?»
«Even without the Dead Gods, Chaos threatens to conquer the planet, but with them it would be utterly invincible, its effect immediate. Evil would sweep the world. Chaos would plunge this earth into a stinking inferno of terror and destruction. You have already had a taste of what is happening, and Darnizhaan has only been back for a short time.»
«You mean the defeat of Yishana's armies and the conquest by Sarosto and Jagreen Lern?»
«Exactly. Jagreen Lern has a pact with Chaos-all the Lords of Chaos, not merely the Dead Gods-for Chaos fears Fate's plan for earth's future and would attempt to tamper with it by gaining domination of our planet The Lords of Chaos are strong enough without the help of the Dead Gods. Darnizhaan must be destroyed.»
Stormbringer es-6 Page 4
