Stormbringer es-6

by Michael Moorcock

  As he stumbled towards the fallen tree, he saw that the wood was suddenly dead and the remaining leaves had shrivelled.

  «Quickly, » he gasped as the three came up, «Shift this thing. My sword's beneath and without it I'm dead! »

  Swiftly they set to work and rolled the peculiarly light tree over so that Elric could weakly grasp the hilt of Stormbringer still imbedded therein.

  As he did so he almost screamed, experiencing a sensation of tremendous force. Energy filled him, pulsed through him so that he felt like a god himself.

  He laughed as if possessed by a demon and the others looked at him in astonishment.

  «Come, my friends, follow me. I can deal with a million such trees now! »

  He leapt up the steps as another shoal of leaves came towards him. Ignoring their bites, he went straight for the elder itself and, as if part of the sword, aimed for its centre. Again this tree screamed.

  «Dyvim Slorm! » he shouted, drunk on its life-force. «Do an I do-let your sword drink a few such souls and we're invincible! »

  «Such power is scarcely palatable, » Rackhir said, brushing dead leaves from his body as Elric withdrew his sword again and ran towards the next. The elders grew thicker here and they bent their branches to reach him, looming over him, the branches like fingers seeking to pluck him apart.

  Dyvim Slorm, a trifle less spontaneously, imitated Elric’s method of despatching the tree-creatures and soon he too became filled with the stolen sols of the demons imprisoned within the elders and his wild shout joined Elric's as, like fiendish woodsmen, they attacked again and again, each victory lending them more strength so that Moonglum and Rackhir looked at one another with wonder and a trace of fear to see such a terrible change come over their friends.

  But there was no denying that their methods were effective against the elders. Soon they looked back at a waste of fallen, blackened trees spreading down the mountain-side.

  All the old unholy fervour of the dead kings of Melnibone was in the faces of the two kinsmen as they sang old battlesongs, their twin blades joining in the harmony to send up a disturbing melody of doom and malevolence!

  His lips parted to reveal his white teeth, his red eyes Mazing with dreadful fire, his milk-white hair streaming in the burning wind, Elric flung up his sword to the sky and turned to confront his companions.

  «Now, friends, see how the ancient ones of Melnibone conquered man and demon to rule the world for ten thousand

  years! »

  Moonglum thought that he merited the nick-name of Wolf gained in the west long since. All the chaos-force that was now within him had gained complete control over everything else. He realised that Elric was no longer split in his loyalties, there was no conflict in him now. His ancestors' Mood dominated him and he appeared as they must have ages since when all other races of mankind fled before them, fearing their magnificence, their malice and their evil. Dyvim Slorm seemed equally as possessed and Moonglum sent up a heartfelt prayer to whatever kindly gods remained in the universe that Elric was his ally and not his enemy.

  They were close to 'the top now, Elric and his cousin springing ahead with superhuman bounds. The steps terminated at the mouth of a gloomy tunnel and into the darkness rushed the pair, laughing and calling to one another.

  Less speedily, Moonglum and Rackhir followed, the Red Archer nocking an arrow to his bow.

  Elric peered into the gloom, his head swimming with the power that seemed to burst from every pore of his body. He heard the clatter of armoured feet coming towards him, and, as they approached, he realised that these warriors were but human. Though nearly a hundred and fifty, they did not daunt him. As the first group rushed at him, he blocked blows easily and struck them down, each soul taken making only a fraction's difference to the vitality already in him. Shoulder to shoulder stood the kinsmen, butchering the soldiers like so many children. It was dreadful to the eyes of Moonglum and Rackhir, as they came up to witness the flood of blood which soon made the tunnel slippery. The stench of death in the close confines became too much as Elric and Dyvim Slorm moved past the first of the fallen and carried the attack to the rest.

  Rackhir groaned. «Though they are enemies and the servants of those we fight, I cannot bear to witness such slaughter. We are not needed here, friend Moonglum. These are demons waging war, not men! »

  «Aye, » sighed Moonglum as they broke out into sunlight again and saw the castle ahead, the remaining warriors reassembling as Elric and Dyvim Slorm advanced menacingly, with malevolent joy, towards them.

  The air rang with the sounds of shouting and steel dashing. Rackhir aimed an arrow at one of the warriors and launched it to take the man in the left eye. «I’ll see that a few of them get a cleaner death, » he muttered nocking another arrow to the string.

  As Elric and his kinsman disappeared into the enemy ranks, others, sensing perhaps that Rackhir and Moonglum were less of a danger, rushed at the two.

  Moonglum found himself engaging three warriors and discovered that his sword seemed extraordinarily light and gave off a sweet, clear tone as it met the warriors' weapons, turning them aside speedily. The sword supplied him with no energy, but it did not blunt as it might have and the heavier swords could not force it down so easily.

  Rackhir had expended au his arrows in what had virtually been an act of mercy. He engaged the enemy with his sword and killed two, taking Moonglum's third opponent from behind with an upward thrust into the man's side and through to his heart.

  Then they went with little stomach into the main fray and found that already the turf was littered with a great many corpses.

  Rackhir cried to Elric: «Stop! Elric - let us finish these. You have no need to take their souls. We can kill them with more natural methods! » But Elric laughed and carried on his work.

  As Elric finished another warrior and there were no others in the immediate area, Rackhir seized him by the arm. «Elric-»

  Stormbringer turned in Elric's hand, howling its satiated glee, and clove down at Rackhir.

  Seeing his fate, Rackhir sobbed and sought to avoid the mow. But it landed in his shoulder blade and sheared down to his breast-bone.

  «Elric! » he cried. «Not my soul, too! » And so died the hero Rackhir the Red Archer, famous in the Eastlands, cloven by a treacherous blade. By the friend whose life he had saved, long ago when they had first met near the city of Ameeron.

  Then came realisation. Elric tried to tug the sword away but it was too late. Again he had involuntarily slain one close to him while in the power of his runesword.

  «Oh, Rackhir! » he cried, kneeling beside the body and taking it in his arms. The stolen energy still pulsed in him, but his great grief no longer gave it the same control over him. Tears streamed down Elric's tortured face and a great, racking groan came from him.

  «Once more.» he muttered, «once more. Will it never cease?»

  Beyond him, his two remaining companions stood on the opposite sides of the field of the slain. Dyvim Slorm had done with slaying, but only because there were none left to kill. He was gasping, staring around him half in bewilderment. Moonglum stared at Elric with horrified eyes which yet held a gleam of sympathy for his friend, for he knew well Elric's doom and knew that the life of one close to Elric was the price Stormbringer demanded for supplying the albino with his vitality.

  «Rackhir! No gentler hero was there, no man more desirous of peace and order than you! » Elric raised himself to his feet and turned to look at the huge castle of granite and milestone, which stood in enigmatic silence as if awaiting his next action. On the battlements of the topmost turret he could make out a figure which could only be a giant.

  «I swear by your stolen soul, Rackhir, that what you wished to come to pass shall come to pass, though I, a thing of Chaos, achieve that Law will triumph and Chaos will be driven back! Sinned with sword and shield of Chaos forging I shall do battle with every fiend of hell if needs he. Chaos was the indirect cause of your death. And Chaos will be
punished for it. But first, we must take the shield.»

  Dyvim Slorm, not realising quite what had happened, shouted in exultation to be unhuman: «Elric - let’s visit the sad giant now! »

  But Moonglum, coming up to gaze down on the ruined body of Rackhir, murmured: «Aye, Chaos is the cause, Elric. I’ll join in your vengeance with a will so long as, » he shuddered, «I’m spared from the attentions of your hell-blade.»

  Together, three abreast, they marched through the open portal of Mordaga's castle and were distinctly in a rich and barbariously furnished hall.

  «Mordaga! » Elric cried. «We have come to fulfill a prophecy! We await you.»

  They waited impatiently, until at last, a bulky figure came through a great arch at the end of the vast hall.

  Mordaga was as tall as two men, but his back was slightly stooped. He had long, curling black hair and was in deep blue smock, belted at the waist. Upon his great feet were simple leather sandals. His black eyes were full of a sorrow such as Moonglum had only seen before in Elric's eyes.

  Upon the sad giant's arm was a round shield which bear upon it the eight amber arrows of Chaos. It was of a silvery green colour and very beautiful. He had no other weapons.

  «I know the prophecy, » he said in a voice that was like a lonely, roaring wind. «But still I must seek to avert it Will you take the shield and leave me in peace, human? I do not want death.»

  Elric felt a kind of empathy for sad Mordaga and he knew something of what the fallen god must feel at his moment

  «The prophecy says death, » he said softly.

  «Take the shield.» Mordaga lifted it off his mighty arm and held it towards Elric. 'Take the shield and change fate this once.»

  Elric nodded. «I will.»

  With a tremendous sigh, the giant deposited the Chaos Shield upon the floor.

  «For thousands of years I have lived in the shadow of that prophecy, » he said, straightening his back. «Now, though I die in old age, I shall die in peace and, though I once did not think so, I shall welcome such a death after all his time, I think.»

  «You may not die thus, with your shield's protection gone, » Elric warned him, «for Chaos comes and will engulf you as it will engulf everything unless I can stop it. But at least, it seems, you'll be in a more philosophic frame of mind to meet it»

  «Farewell and I thank you, » said the giant turning and he plodded back towards the entrance through which he had come.

  As Mordaga disappeared, Moonglum dashed forward on fleet feet and followed him through the entrance before either dit Elric or Dyvim Slorm could cry out or stop him. Then they heard a single shriek that seemed to echo away into eternity, a crash which shook the hall and then the foot fall returning. Moonglum reappeared in the entrance, a bloody sword in his hand.

  Unable to understand this uncharacteristic action, Elric was silent merely staring at the Eastlander as he approached down the hall

  «It was murder, » said Moonglum simply. «I admit it, I took him in the back before he was aware of it. It was a good, quick death and he died whilst happy. Moreover it was a better death than any his minions tried to mete to us. It was murder, but it was necessary murder in my eyes.»

  «Why» said Elric, still mystified.

  Grimly, Moonglum continued: «He had to perish as fate decreed. We are servants of fate, now, Elric, and to divert it, in any small way is to hamper its aims. But more than that it was the beginning of my own vengeance taking. If Mordaga had not surrounded himself with such a host, Rackhir would not have died.»

  Elric shook his head. «Blame me for that, Moonglum. The giant should not have perished for my own sword's crime.»

  «Someone had to perish, » said Moonglum steadfastly, «and since the prophecy contained Mordaga's death, he was the one. Who else, here, could I kill, Elric?»

  Elric turned away. «I wish it were I, » he sighed. He looked down at the great, round shield with its shifting amber arrows and its mysterious silver-green colour. He picked it up easily enough and placed it on his arm. It virtually covered his body from chin to ankles.

  «Come, let's make haste and leave this place of death and misery. The lands of Umiora and Vumir await our aid-if they have not already wholly fallen to Chaos! »

  It was in the mountains separating the Signing Desert from the Weeping Waste, that they first learned of the fate of the last of the Young Kingdoms. They came upon a party of six tired warriors led by Lord Voashooo, Zarozinia's father.

  «What has happened?» Elric asked anxiously. «Where is Zarozinia?»

  «Our continent has fallen to Chaos, Elric. As for Zarozinia, I know not if she's lost, fled or captured.»

  «Did you not seek for her?» Elric said accusingly.

  The old man shrugged. «My son, I have looked upon so much horror these past days not I am now bereft of emotion. I care for nothing but a quick release from all this. The day of mankind is over on the Earth. Go no further than here, for even the Weeping Waste is beginning to change before the crawling tide of Chaos. It is hopeless.»

  «Hopeless! No! We still live-perhaps Zarozinia still lives. Did you hear nothing of her fate?»

  «Only a rumour that Jagreen Lern had taken her aboard the leading Chaos ship.»

  «She is on the seas, perhaps?»

  «No-those cursed craft sail land as well as sea, if it can be told apart these days. It was they who attacked Karlaak, with a vast horde of mounted men and infantry following behind. Confusion prevails - you’ll find nothing but your death back there, my son.»

  «We shall see. I have some protection against Chaos at long last, plus my sword and my Nihrain steed.» He turned in the saddle to address his companions. «Well, friends, will you stay here with Lord Voashoon or accompany me into the heart of Chaos?»

  «Well come with you, » Moonglum said quietly, speaking for them both. «We've followed you until now and our fates are linked with yours in any case. We can do nought else.»

  «Good. Farewell, Lord Voashoon. If you would do a service, ride over the Weeping Waste to Eahmir and the Unknown Kingdoms where Moonglum's homeland lies. Tell them what to expect, though they're probably beyond rescue now.»

  «I will try, » said Voashoon wearily, «and hope to arrive there before Chaos.»

  Then Elric and his companions were off, riding towards the massed hordes of Chaos-three men against the unleashed forces of darkness. Three foolhardy men who had pursued their course so faithfully that it was inconceivable for them to flee now. The last acts must be played out whether howling night or calm day followed.

  The first signs of Chaos were soon apparent as they saw the place where lush grassland once had been. It was now a yellow morass of molten rode that, though cool, rolled about with a purposeful air. The Nihrain horses, since they did not actually gallop on the plane of Earth at all, crossed it with comparative ease and here the Chaos Shield was first shown to work, for as they passed the yellow liquid rock changed and became grass again for a short time.

  They met once a shambling thing that still had limbs of sorts and a mourn that could speak. From this poor creature they learned that Karlaak was no more, that it had been churned into broiling nothingness and where it had been the forces of Chaos, both human and supernatural, had set up their camp, their work done. The thing also spoke of something that was of particular interest to Elric. Rumour was that the Dragon Isle of Melnibone was the only place where Chaos had been unable to exert its influence.

  «If, when our business is done, we can reach Melnibone, » Elric said to his friends as they rode on, «we might be able to abide until such a time that the White Lords can help us. Also there are dragons slumbering in the caves-and these would be useful against Jagreen Lern if we could waken them.»

  «What use is it to fight them now?» Dyvim Slorm said defeatedly. «Jagreen Lern has won, Elric. We have not fulfilled our destiny. Our role is over and Chaos rules.»

  «Does it? But we have yet to fight it and test its strength against ours. Let
us decide then what the outcome has been.»

  Slorm looked dubious, but he said nothing.

  And then, at last, they came to the camp of Chaos.

  No mortal nightmare could encompass such a terrible vision. The towering Ships of Hell dominated the place as they observed it from a distance, utterly horrified by the sight. Shooting flames of all colours seemed to flicker everywhere over the camp, fiends mingled with the men, the evilly beautiful Dukes of Hell conferred with the gaunt-faced kings who had allied themselves to Jagreen Lern and perhaps now regretted it. Every so often the ground heaved and erupted and any human beings unfortunate enough to be in the area were either engulfed and totally transformed, or else had their bodies warped in indescribable ways. The noise was a dreadful blending of human voices and roaring Chaos sounds, devil's wailing laughter and, quite often, the tortured shout of a human soul who had perhaps relented his choice of loyalty and now suffered madness. The stench was disgusting, of corruption, of blood and of evil. The Ships of Hell moved slowly about through the horde which stretched for miles, dotted with great pavilions of kings, their silk banners fluttering; hollow pride compared to the might of Chaos. Many of the human beings could scarcely be told from the Chaos creatures, their forms were so changed under the influence of Chaos.

  Elric muttered to his friends as they sat in their saddles watching. «It is obvious that the warping influence of Chaos grows even stronger among the human ranks. This will continue until even Jagreen Lern and the traitor kings will lose every semblance of humanity and become just a fraction of the churning stuff of Chaos. This will mean the end of the human race—mankind will pass away for ever, taken into the maw of Chaos.