He dare not summon the entire horde of blades with spell, that would be tempting providence too far.
He heard the sudden thwack and roar as the giant catapult discharged its first shot. The flame-shrouded pitch went arching over the ocean and landed short, boiling the sea around it as it guttered and sank. Swiftly the war-engine was rewound and he marvelled at the speed as another ball of flaring pitch was forked into its cup. Jagreen Lern looked up at him and laughed.
«My pleasure will be short-there are not enough of them to put up a decent fight. Watch them perish, Elric! »
Brie said nothing, pretended to be dazed and frightened.
The next fireball struck one of the leading ships directly and Elric saw tiny figures scampering about, striving desperately to quench the spreading pitch, but within a minute the whole ship was ablaze, a gouting mass of flame as the figures now jumped overboard, unable to save their vessel.
Now the air around him sounded to the rushing heat of the fireballs and within range now, the southerners retaliated with their lighter machines until it seemed the sky was filled with a thousand comets and the heat almost equalled that which Elric had experienced in the torture chamber.
Mack smoke began to drift as the brass beaks of the ships' rams ground through timbers, impaling ships like skewered fish. The hoarse yells of fighting men began to sound and Elric heard the dash of iron as the first few opposing warriors met.
But now he only vaguely heard the sounds, for he was concentrating.
At last he was ready and, aware that his voice would probably not be heard by human ears above the noise of war, called in a desperate and agonising voice: «Stormbringer! » His straining mind echoed the shout and he seemed to look beyond the turbulent battle, beyond the ocean, beyond the very earth to a place of shadows and terror. Something moved there. Many things moved there.
He heard a curse from beneath him and saw Jagreen Lern pointing up at him.
«Gag the white-faced sorcerer.» Jagreen Lern's eyes met Elric's and the theocrat sucked in his tips, deliberating a bare moment before adding: «And if that doesn't put an end to his babbling-slay him! »
The lieutenant began to climb the mast towards Elric.
«Stormbringer! Your master perishes! »
He struggled in the biting ropes but could hardly move.
«Stormbringer! »
All his life he had hated the sword he relied so much upon. Now he called for it as a lover calls for his betrothed.
The warrior grasped his foot and shook it «Silence! You heard my master.»
With insane eyes, Elric looked down at the warrior who shuddered and drew his sword, hanging to the mast with one hand and readying himself to make a stab at Elric's vitals.
«Stormbringer! » Elric sobbed the name. He must live. Without him, Chaos would surely rule the world.
The man hinged at Elric's body-yet the blade did not reach the albino. Then Elric remembered, with sudden humour, that Jagreen Lern had placed a protective spell about him! The Theocrat's own magic had saved his energy.
«Stormbringer.»
Now the warrior gasped and the sword dropped from his fingers. He seemed to grapple with something invisible at his throat and Elric saw the man's fingers sliced off and blood sport from the stumps. Then, slowly, a shape materialised and, with bounding relief, the albino saw that it was a sword - but own runesword impaling the warrior and sucking out his soul.
The warrior dropped, but Stormbringer hung in the air and men turned to slash the ropes restraining Elric's hands and men nestled firmly, with horrid affection, in it’s master's right fist.
At once the stolen life-stuff of the warrior began to pour through Elric's being and the pain of his body vanished. Quickly he grasped a piece of the sail's rigging and cut away the rest of his bonds until he was swinging by one hand on tile rope.
«Now, Jagreen Lern, we’ll see who takes vengeance, finally.»
He wrenched up the hatch-cover and stared down at the pitiful figure of his friend. Evidently he had been left to starve to death. A rat scuttled away as the light shone down. Elric jumped into the hold and saw, with horror, that part of Moonglum's right arm had been gnawed already. He heaved the body on to his shoulder, aware that the heart still beat, though faintly, and clambered back on to the deck.
How to ensure his friend's safety and still take vengeance on Jagreen Lern was a problem. But Elric moved towards the boarding platform which he guessed the theocrat to have crossed. As he did so, three warriors leapt towards him. One of them cried:
«The albino! The reaver has escaped! »
Elric struck him down with a blow that required only a flick of his wrist. The black sword did the rest The others retreated, remembering how Elric had entered Hwamgaarl.
New energy flowed through him. For every corpse he killed, his strength increased-a stolen strength, but necessary if he was to survive and win the day for Law.
He ran, untroubled by his burden, over the boarding platform and on to the deck of the southern ship. Up ahead he saw the standard of Argimiliar and a little group of men around it, headed by King Hozel himself, his face gaunt as he stared at the knowledge of his own death. A deserved death, thought Elric grimly, but nonetheless when Hozel died it would mean another victory for Chaos.
Then he heard a shout of a different quality, thought for a moment he had been observed, but one of Hozel's men was pointing to the North sod mouthing something.
Elric looked in the direction and saw, with mixed emotions, the brave sails of the Purple Towns. They were brightly painted and gay, some even embroidered, for the only rich decoration the Sealords allowed themselves was upon their sails.
But they had arrived belatedly. Even if they had sailed with the other southern vessels it would have been unlikely not they could have turned the day against Pan Tang.
At that moment, staring around him, Jagreen Lern saw Elric and bellowed at his men who moved forward warily and reluctantly, approaching the albino in a wide semi-circle,
Elric cursed the brave Sealords who had added a further factor to his indecision,
Menacingly he swung the moaning runeblade about him, he advanced to meet the half-terrified Pan Tang warriors. They dropped back, some of them groaning as the blade touched them. The way was now dear to Jagreen Lern.
But the ships of the Purple Towns were drawing closer, almost within catapult range.
Elric looked directly into Jagreen Lern’s frightened face and snarled: «I doubt if my blade had my strength to pierce your burning armour with one blow, had one blow is all I have time for. I leave you now, theocrat, but remember not even if you conquer all the world including the unknown lands of the East, I’ll have my sword drink your black soul at length.»
With that he dropped Moonglum's unconscious body overboard and dived after it into the choppy sea.
Resuming his hold on his friend's body, he began to swim with superhuman strokes towards the leading vessel of the Sealords. Kargan's ship.
Now, behind him, Jagreen Lern and his men saw their own flagship blazing. Elric had done his work well.
That, too, would serve to divert attention from Kargan's fleet.
Trusting to the Sealords' famed seamanship he swam directly in the path of the leading galleon, shouting Kargan's name.
The ship veered slightly and he saw bearded faces at the rail, saw ropes flicker towards him and grasped one, letting them haul him upwards with his burden until he was pulled over the side.
Kargan stared at him with shocked eyes.
«Elric! We thought you dead-and now I see you have been, or worse! »
Elric spat salt-water from his mouth and said urgently:
«Turn your fleet, Kargan! Turn it back the way it has come, there is no hope of saving the Southlanders - they are doomed. We must preserve our forces for a later struggle.»
Hesitating momentarily, Kargan gave the order which was swiftly relayed to the rest of his sixty strong fleet.
&nbs
p; As the ships turned away, Elric noted that hardly a Southern ship remained afloat. For more than a mile the water burned and the spluttering of the flaming, sinking ships was blended with the screams of the maimed and drowning.
«With the Southern seapower crushed so decisively, » Kargan said, watching the physician who was tending to Moonglum, »the lands will not last long before Pan Tang's marching hordes. Like us, the South relied too much on its ships. It has taught me that we must strengthen our land defences if we are to have any chance at all.»
«From now on well use your island as our main headquarters, » Elric said. «Well fortify the whole place and from there keep in close touch with what is happening in the south. How is my friend, physician?»
The physician looked up. «These are no battle-made wounds. He's been hurt sorely, but hell live. He should recover to perfect fitness given a month or so of rest.»
«He'll have it, » Elric promised. He gripped the runesword at his belt and wondered what other tasks lay in store for them before the last great battle between Law and Chaos was joined.
Chaos would soon rule more than half the world, in spite of the powerful blow he had dealt it in forever sentencing the Dukes of Hell to their own plane; the more power that Jagreen Lern gathered, the more the threat from Chaos would increase.
He sighed and looked Northwards.
Two days later they returned to the Isle of the Purple Towns, the fleet remaining in the largest harbour of Utkel since it was thought wise to have it at hand and not disperse it.
All that following night, Elric talked with the Sealords, ordered messengers to Vilmir and Ilmiora and, towards morning, there came a polite knock on the door of the room.
Kargan got up to open it and stared in astonishment at the tall, black-faced man who stood there.
«Sepiriz! » Elric cried. «How did you come here?»
«On horseback, » smiled the giant, «and you know the power of the Nihrain steeds. I had come to warn you. We have, at last, managed to contact the White Lords but they can do little as yet Somehow a path to their plane must be made through the barricades which Chaos has constructed against them. Jagreen Lern's ships have vomited their contents on the southern shores and his warriors swarm inland. There is nothing we can do now to stop his conquests there. Once consolidated, his Earthly power increased, he will be able to summon more and more allies from Chaos.»
Then where does my next task lie?» Elric asked softly.
«I am not sure yet. But that is not what I came for. Your blade's sojourn with its brothers has strengthened it. You may have noticed how swiftly it pours power into your body now?»
Elric nodded.
That power is evilly-gained and is evil in itself. The blade's strength will continue to increase and yours will, also. But, as Chaos-begotten power fills your being, you will have to fight, yet more strongly, to control the force within you.»
Elric sighed and grasped Sepiriz's arm.
Thanks for the warning, friend, but when I beat the Dukes of Hell, to whom I formerly pledged allegiance, I did not expect to escape with a mere scratch or a flesh-wound. Know this, Sepiriz, » he turned to the watching Sealords, «and know this all of you.»
He drew the groaning runeblade from its scabbard and held it aloft so that it shone and flared in its awful power.
This blade was forged by Chaos to conquer Chaos and not is my destiny, too. Though the world transmutes to boiling gas I shall live, now, I swear by the Balance of the Cosmos that Law shall triumph and New Age come to the Earth.»
Taken aback by this grim vow, the Sealords glanced at one another and Sepiriz smiled.
«Let us hope so, Elric, » he said. «Let us hope so.»
BOOK THREE
Sad Giant's Shield
Thirteen times thirteen, the steps to the sad giants lair:
And the Chaos Shield lies there.
Seven time seven are the elder trees
Twelve times twelve warriors he sees
But the Chaos Shield lies there.
And the hero fair will the sad giant dare
And a red sword wield for the sad giant's shield
On a mournful victory day.
-The Chronicle of the Black Sword
One
Across the world the shadow of anarchy had fallen. Neither god, nor man, nor that which ruled both could clearly read the future and see the fate of Earth as the Forces of Chaos increased their strength through the machinations of their human minions.
From Westland mountain, over the agitated ocean to Southland plain. Chaos now held its monstrous sway. Tormented, miserable, unable to hope any longer for liberation from the corroding, warping influence of Chaos, the remnants of races fled over the two continents already fallen to the human minions of Disorder, led by their warped Theocrat Jagreen Lern of Pan Tang, aquiline, high-shouldered and greedy for power, in his glowing scarlet armour, controlling human vultures and supernatural creatures alike as he widened his black boundaries.
Upon the face of the Earth all was disruption and roaring anguish' save for the thinly populated, already threatened Eastern continent and the Isle of the Purple Towns, which now readied itself to withstand Jagreen Lern's initial onslaught. The on-rushing tide of Chaos must soon sweep the world unless some great force could be summoned to halt it Bleakly, bitterly, the few who still resisted Jagreen Lern, under the command of Elric of Melnibone, talked of strategy and tactics in the full knowledge that more than these were needed to beat back Jagreen Lern's unholy horde.
Desperately, Elric attempted to utilise the ancient sorcery of his emperor forefathers to contact the White Lords of Law; but he was unused to seeking such aid and, as well, the forces of Chaos were now so strong, that those of Law could no longer gain easy access to the Earth as they had contrived to do in earlier times.
As they prepared for the coming fight, Elric and his allies watt about the preparation with heavy Routs and a sense of the futility of such action. And, in the back of Elric's mind, was the constant knowledge that even if he won against Chaos, the very act of winning would destroy the world he knew and leave it ripe for the forces of Law to rule-and there would be no place in such a world for the wild albino sorcerer.
Beyond the earthly plane, in their bordering realms, the Lords of Chaos and of Law, watched the struggle and even they did not realise Elric's entire destiny.
Chaos triumphed. Chaos blocked the efforts of Law on each occasion they tried to pass through the domain of Chaos, now the only road to Earth. And the Lords of Law shared Elric’s frustration.
And, if Chaos and Law were observing the Earth and her struggle, who watched these? For Chaos and Law were but the twin weights in a balance and the hand that held the balance, though it rarely deigned to interfere in their struggle, still less in tile affairs of men, had reached the rare state of a decision to alter the status quo. Which weight would drop? Which rise? Could men decide? Could the Lords decide? Or could only the Cosmic Hand remould the pattern of the Earth, reforming her stuff, changing her spiritual constituents and placing her on a different path, a fresh course of destiny?
Perhaps all would play some part before the outcome was decided.
The great zodiac influencing the universe and its' Ages, had completed its twelve cycles and the cycles would soon begin again. The wheel would spin and, when it stopped its spinning, which symbol would dominate, how changed would it be?
Great movements, on the Earth and beyond it; great destinies were being shaped, great deeds were being planned and, marvellously, could it just be possible that in spite of the Lords of the Higher Worlds, in spite of the Cosmic Hand, in spite of the myriad supernatural denizens that swarmed the universe, that Man might decide the issue?
Even - one man?
One man, one sword, one destiny?
Elric of Melnibone sat hunched in his saddle, watching the warriors bustle to and fro around him in the city square of Bakshaan, here, years before he had conducted a siege against the city'
s leading merchant, tricked others and left rich. but such scores that they held against him were now forgotten, pushed from their minds by the threat of war and the knowledge that if Elric's command could not save them, nothing could. The walls of the city were being widened and heightened, warriors being trained in the use of unfamiliar war-engines. From being a lazy merchant city, Bakshaan had become a functional place, ready for battle when it came.
For a month, Elric had been riding the length and breadth of the eastern kingdoms of Ilmiora and Vilmir, overseeing preparations, building the strength of the two nations into an efficient war machine.
Now he studied parchments handed him by his lieutenants and, recalling all the old tactical skill of his ancestors, gave them his decisions.
The sun set and heavy black clouds hung against a sharp, metallic blue sky, stretching over the horizon. Elric loosened his cloak strings and allowed the folds of the garment to enclose him, for a chill had come. Then, as he silently regarded the sky to the west, he frowned as he noticed something like a flashing golden star appear, moving swiftly towards him.
Ever wary for signs of the coming of Chaos, he turned in his saddle shouting:
«Every man to his position! Ware the golden globe! »
The thing approached rapidly until soon, it was hanging over the city, all men looking up at it in astonishment, their hands on their weapons. As black night fell, the clouds admitting no moonlight, the globe began to fall towards the spires of Bakshaan, a strange luminescence pulsing from it. Elric tugged Stormbringer from its scabbard and black fire nickered along the blade as it gave out a low moaning sound. The globe touched the cobbles of the city-square-broke into a million fragments that glowed for a moment before vanishing.
Elric laughed in relief, resheathing Stormbringer as he saw who now stood in the place of the golden globe.
«Sepiriz, my friend. You choose strange means of transport to carry you from the Gorge of Nihrain.»
The tall, black-faced seer smiled, his white pointed steed pranced. «I have so few carriages of that type, that I must only use them when pressed. I come with news for you, much news.»
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