The White Wolf's Son

by Michael Moorcock

  “My point …,” began Lord Renyard.

  Oona interrupted this fantasy, arguing that she would remain faithful to her husband and I was far too young to get married; and in the circumstances we had better not spend the day talking but push on in the hope of finding a human settlement!

  So we were soon on our way. I had the privilege, with my short legs, of being carried on the backs of every one of the Kakatanawa as well as the other men, while Oona, with an arrow nocked to her bow, trotted ahead looking for a trail.

  She soon picked up a good, metaled road, which suggested we were in the twenty-first century or at least the late twentieth. I began to look forward to civilization again. We rested for lunch not far from the road we hoped would take us to a main thoroughfare.

  Then, just as we were preparing to move on, we heard a roaring, clanking and hissing noise so loud it threatened to burst my eardrums. We ran rapidly for the relative safety of the rocks. Over the horizon flew the strangest plane I had ever seen in my life. As it sailed above us, with great wings beating steadily, it threw out a trail of ash and cinders stinking of sulphur, like the old-fashioned steam train my family had taken from Settle to Carlisle on my last birthday. Shaped like an enormous bird with a beak of brass and steel, clashing metallic feathers, enameled green, red and yellow and seemingly about the size of a jumbo jet, its vast wings lifted and fell, creating a downdraft nearly flattening the lot of us!

  I caught a glimpse of what might have been the crew. Goggles and masks gave them an equally birdlike appearance. The plane flew low and was lost from sight over the nearby northeastern hills.

  “An ornithopter!” declared Lieutenant Fromental in some delight. “Can their power source actually be steam? Such a vessel’s never been made to work before. The power-weight ratio problem is thought to be insurmountable. You know Leonardo’s designs?”

  “It appears to be steam,” agreed Prince Lobkowitz. “Eh?” He looked at Oona. “There’s only one culture I know of in the multiverse which successfully used steam and ancient science in combination to produce a working ornithopter …”

  “The Dark Empire,” murmured Oona with some concern. “The Empire of Granbretan.” She sighed. “We appear to have escaped the frying pan and landed in the fire.”

  “The Dark Empire?” Lieutenant Fromental was curious; his big, dark eyes looked from face to face. “Grand Bretagne? Britain?”

  “In this world,” said Prince Lobkowitz, “London—or Londra—is the hub of one of the most evil empires history has ever known.”

  Lieutenant Fromental said nothing, but a look of peculiar satisfaction crossed his face for a moment.

  “So how did they get here?” I asked.

  “I think the question is, how did we get here?” answered Oona.

  “I’ve never accidentally stepped into this world.” Prince Lobkowitz seemed concerned. “Still, there have been more histories of its particular culture than any others I’ve come across. Perhaps in this one they have learned the error of their ways.”

  “We must hope so and make the most of things. That ornithopter does not necessarily mean they actually rule this part of the world. At least we can be fairly certain we’re in Europe!” Oona was anxious, I could tell, and trying not to alarm me.

  “We have more chances of finding someone who can help us. Remember, the Dark Empire arose after the Tragic Millennium. Before the Tragic Millennium, people had more knowledge than almost any other culture.”

  “A wisdom King Huon and his sorcerer-scientists perverted,” murmured Prince Lobkowitz. “They are a mad, cruel, stupid, unpleasant people. Their sadism is infamous. They have tortured the populations of whole provinces to death. And with refinement, too.”

  He looked at me and seemed to regret what he had just said.

  “Prince!” Lord Renyard glared at him, indicating me. I was worried and fascinated at the same time. I must admit, my stomach had turned over a bit. On the other hand, I don’t think I was as scared as they expected me to be. Now I’ve been through that whole thing, I know what’s involved. Then I couldn’t imagine what really, really evil people could be like.

  That night we kept a low fire and put it out as soon as our food was cooked. We would eat the rest of it cold in the morning, when the Kakatanawa went hunting and scouting.

  At dawn the massive clanking, booming, smoke-spewing ornithopter flew over low and took a look at us. We were in open country, with no chance to hide before the flying machine saw us. This time it swooped down and circled before disappearing over the ridge ahead.

  We had no choice but to move on. The Kakatanawa were alert, with arrows on their bowstrings. Oona explained that if this was only a scouting craft it would probably not offer any special danger. However, if we had wandered into one of Granbretan’s conquered nations, they might see us as a threat to be eliminated.

  A little later our questions were answered. We saw two more aircraft soaring into the sky overhead and attacking the first ship we’d seen. Their guns gushed and smeared fire over one another’s fuselages. The pilots, protected by transparent canopies, were apparently unhurt and continued to maneuver. The two new planes, with their clanking wings and clattering rotors, were much less maneuverable than the first one, which outflew them, sending shot after shot into their armored hulls until at last one suddenly lurched sideways and descended rapidly towards the ground. Seeing this, the second ship turned and limped away through the sky. The first screamed down to land, with a massive bellow of steam, on the rocky side of the hill and turned over slowly, rolling sideways. Its rotors and wings flopped crazily, finally buckling and coming loose as it fell, metal screeching and groaning, until the whole contraption burst into flame.

  The wreck was unapproachable, and Lobkowitz shouted at all of us to get back and get down. We barely made it into a shallow dip in the ground as the thing blew up and fragments of red-hot metal showered around us. Lieutenant Fromental’s jacket caught fire but was swiftly put out. There was a faint smell of singed hair. Lord Ren-yard flicked something away from his foreleg.

  Nearby, the victorious machine descended to land. We wondered what the fight had been about. Rather than run, we thought it best to wait and see what would happen. The plane extended hydraulic legs and sank down onto them, for all the world like a settling bird. She stopped her engines and emitted a massive hiss of steam. The canopy slid back, and the crew of heavily suited and masked pilots and gunners climbed out. Once on the ground, they took off their masks and, shading their eyes against the noon sun, stood waiting for us as we approached.

  “It’s all right, I think,” said Prince Lobkowitz. “No Granbretanner would ever take off his mask in public. They seem to be the Dark Empire’s enemies.”

  After a quick discussion, we decided to send Prince Lobkowitz forward. The rest of us watched as the men talked. I breathed a sigh of relief when Prince Lobkowitz and one of the pilots shook hands.

  The prince came back smiling. “They are insurgents,” he said, “based in Mirenburg. They’ve driven the Granbretanian armies back beyond München, and hundreds of thousands of mercenaries have come over to them, along with large numbers of recruits from all the conquered territories. Well-trained soldiers.” The rebels, he said, had taken control of the factories and were turning out their own improved war machines and weapons in large numbers. Granbretan, fundamentally decadent, was being forced back to her heartlands. The Empire was too used to relying on its superior weapons. When they were met with weapons of equal or better power, they were confounded. They were, however, by no means defeated; they might never be defeated, but at last their conquests had been successfully resisted.

  In a German I didn’t really understand very well, Prince Lobkowitz and the pilots talked at length. Eventually he said in English, “They want us to come back to Nürnberg and then go on to Mirenburg with them. I think it’s our last chance to resume our journey and try to get”—he indicated me—”this young lady reunited with her parents.” />
  So that’s why we turned around and began our journey back.

  It was, as it turned out, a pretty iffy decision.

  We were rather knackered by the time we arrived in their version of Mirenburg. This city was totally different from the one we’d left. It was half-surrounded by huge chimneys belching out smoke, just like the first one, but there were so many more of them! Each chimney was carved in some grotesque representation of humans or beasts or both. The buildings were like something out of a Gothic movie, all weird shapes and sizes, and the streets were full of people in the most bizarre costumes and armor! I had never seen anything like it in a book, game or movie. The colors were mostly dark and rich. Many people rode horses, while others were carried aboard big rail-traveling trams driven by steam and also shaped like various animals. It seemed that no human artifact should be allowed to resemble itself! It was the coolest place I’d ever visited. Better than the best theme park, a mixture of London during the Notting Hill carnival, a big funfair and a fancy dress party. I had the feeling I was enjoying it more than my friends, apart from Lord Renyard, whose long mouth grinned and whose eyes glistened. I held his big paw while he loped along, using his tall dandy cane for support. Some of the people seemed a bit surprised by him, but most gave him no more attention than the rest of our party. Maybe they were used to seeing six-foot-tall foxes in eighteenth-century finery eyeing them through an ornamental quizzing glass.

  “I was only aware, mademoiselle, of the theory of parallel or ‘alternate’ worlds,” he said as he strolled along. “But this demonstration is incontrovertible, is it not? I must admit that while I miss my home and my library, our expedition is providing me with a considerable amount of intellectual stimulus. I continue, naturally, to be sympathetic to your terrible situation, but find myself fascinated, especially when it occurs to me that this could be a world where the superior species resembled myself, and your own—forgive me—might be considered monstrous, eh?”

  I told him that he had been such a kind friend to me that any pleasure he got cheered me up. If I knew that my mum and dad weren’t worrying, I’d be enjoying the adventure a lot more myself.

  His large, warm pad closed gratefully on my fingers. I realized at that point that we’d become real friends, and I felt rather proud of it. I wished everyone at school could see us together. There wasn’t anything much cooler than having a talking animal as your best mate, especially when he was probably the most intelligent person you’d ever known—and a king of thieves to top it all off!

  Later we found an inn for the night. I asked if I could share a room with him. No one objected. Oona seemed almost relieved at my choice.

  We were greeted as friends by the people of Mirenburg. Their morale was high. They had driven back a force said to be unbeatable. They had word that Dorian Hawkmoon, a local legendary champion against the Dark Empire, was heading their way with an army. They had never before believed they could defeat their conquerors, but now it seemed highly likely they were going to drive them back to the sea and beyond. They had by no means destroyed the threat—they might never entirely destroy it—but they now knew it was possible. They were determined to do their best.

  Tomorrow, we were told, we would be granted an audience with Prince Yaroslaf Stredic, who had recently become protector of this city and the province it commanded. He was also chief of their armies. His destiny was to save the whole of Europa from Granbretan and confine the perverted, sorcerous evil empire to her own shores. She would be contained thereafter by the superior arms Mirenburg now possessed.

  Meanwhile there was a feast to attend, an affair hastily thrown together by the mayor. I apparently fell asleep halfway through and was carried back to the hotel by Lord Renyard, because I woke up next morning in a beautiful little hand-carved bed with roses painted all over it, and found that the fox was already dressed.

  “An important day for us, mademoiselle,” he said, handing me a cup of tea. “I have ordered your breakfast. This morning we meet the savior of Mirenburg.”

  And that was how I found out how this revolution had effectively been started by a red-eyed albino who bore a strong resemblance to the man I knew best as Monsieur Zodiac.

  Soon we were back at the palace, seated at a big formal table. There was a bit of a preliminary ceremony while we were greeted officially as friends of the revolt, and then we started this lovely lunch. Most of the ingredients were unfamiliar to me, and some I really didn’t like much, but I did my best with it, sticking mostly to salad and hot veggies. I noticed also that most of the Kakatanawa didn’t look too happy with the food, which seemed unfair since they had supplied us with so many delicious meals on the trail.

  Prince Yaroslaf Stredic, according to tradition, was at the head of the table, and we all sat clustered around him while various other officials and notables spread out along both sides. At the far end of the table, clearly taking an interest in us but refusing to join in any discussion, was a monk. He wore a cassock with a deep hood, and his face was impossible to make out. His broad shoulders could not be disguised by his habit, however. Prince Lobkowitz wondered if he was a renegade from Granbretan, whose people couldn’t bear to have their faces exposed.

  The prince was a pink, round-headed, good-natured young man with an air of confident power and was full of “Lord Elric’s” praises. We learned how they had met, the trick played to get them here, Elric’s cleverness, his support for the revolution, the flight of Klosterheim and von Minct, and Elric’s following them in the belief that they meant me harm and might lead him to me.

  I felt incredibly important when Prince Yaroslaf told me of Elric’s concern, of his having the city turned upside down in search of me. We asked if Elric had left a message for us, but of course our coming hadn’t been anticipated.

  “Clearly,” said the prince, “your friend didn’t expect you to follow him. He’ll regret not having stayed longer, but he has been gone for a year now, at least.” He concentrated as he calculated the length of time Elric had been gone. “He is a brave, noble man, if an unusual one. Sorcery has always made me uneasy, I suppose because I associate it with Granbretan.”

  I wondered what spell the albino had cast that disturbed Prince Yaroslaf, but clearly the Protector of Mirenburg didn’t want to discuss it anymore.

  Elric had told them nothing of where he was going, Prince Yaroslaf said, but moments before he said farewell, he had mentioned the “moonbeam roads.” Everyone in our party knew what this meant. “He has crossed between the worlds, still searching the multiverse for this young lady,” murmured Oona a bit doubtfully. “I hope he is careful. He lacks much experience of the roads themselves …”

  Great! The one man who seemed to have some chance of getting me home had not only disappeared but had put himself in extraordinary danger as well. I did my best to remain positive when I heard this news. I was flattered that so many important people cared about me, but all I really wanted in my heart was to see my mum and dad again and then mooch off down to the stream and mess about looking for crayfish. On my own. With them to go home to. Would I ever see them again? Don’t think about it! warned my inner voice. I knew it was pointless, but that was the level of depression I got flashes of from time to time.

  “Tomorrow,” promised the Prince of Wäldenstein, “we will be able to talk more casually.” He apologized for the formality and the brevity of our time together. He was delighted that we were comrades of the albino, he said. “That man will go into our history as the hero who began the revolution against the Dark Empire. Without him, none of this could have happened, and we should never have sounded the trumpet call which brought us our other great hero—”

  I followed his eyes, and I saw the hooded man shake his head very slightly as Prince Yaroslaf changed the subject. The mysterious lunch guest didn’t want to be known to us. I tried to work out why he was so familiar to me. Surely this wasn’t another trick of Klosterheim’s. But Klosterheim’s shoulders were narrow.

&nbs
p; I had another thought: Gaynor the Damned?

  Once again I was suddenly alert. If there was something going on here, I wanted to know about it. I kept my own counsel, though. I trusted my friends, but I didn’t know these new people. I decided to bring the subject up later and see if anyone else had ideas.

  “How I long to hear your stories,” said the Protector of Mirenburg. “I look forward to learning how you became friends with the albino. He remains a mystery to me. Yet without him—” Again he stopped, as if he felt he was saying too much.

  Meanwhile, he added regretfully, they were coping with a fresh counterattack from Granbretan in the region of Lyonne, and he had to oversee the battle plans. “The momentum of this war has been unbelievable. So ill prepared was Granbretan, so careless in not creating defenses against their own latest war machines, that a revolt in one key city set off a chain reaction. Those who had once compromised with the Dark Empire, as Count Brass began by doing, learned to trust nothing they were promised. Almost everyone had lost a loved family member to the savage cruelty of those neurotic masked warriors. They wanted revenge.”

  After a bit more ceremony at the end of the lunch, I looked down the table and saw that the cowled man had already left.

  We returned to our inn, and Oona disappeared into the city. She came back a while later with a little more news of Elric. She had talked with other citizens. “My father was certainly here,” she said. “And he seems to have instigated the revolution almost by accident. His chief motive was to find you, Oonagh. They all mention how he constantly asked after you.”

  “Your father?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” she asked.