The Chronicles of Castle Brass

by Michael Moorcock

  He reached towards the creature, the Black Jewel upon the palm of his hand.

  The chains of golden silk fell away from the limbs of the six captives.

  Laughing, confident, his eyes glowing with evil triumph, the being took the Black Jewel from Hawkmoon's hand.

  Hawkmoon embraced his children. He kissed his daughter. He kissed his son.

  Erekose held Ermizhad in his arms and he could not speak.

  And the Spirit of the Black Jewel raised his prize to his lips.

  And he swallowed the jewel.

  ‘Take this,' said the child urgently to Hawkmoon. 'Quickly.' He handed Hawkmoon the Runestaff.

  The black being shrieked his glee. 'I am myself again! I am more than myself again!'

  Hawkmoon kissed Yisselda of Brass.

  ‘I am myself again!'

  When Hawkmoon looked up, the Spirit of the Black Jewel had vanished.

  Hawkmoon turned with a smile to remark on this to the child, Jehamiah Cohnahlias. The child had his back to Hawkmoon at that moment, but his head was turning.

  'I have won,' said the child.

  His face had turned completely. Hawkmoon thought his heart would stop. He felt faint.

  The face of the child was still its own, but it had changed. Now it glowed with a dark aura. Now it grinned with an unholy joy. It was the face of the creature which had swallowed the Black Jewel. It was the face of Sword.

  'I have won!'

  And the child began to giggle.

  And then it began to grow.

  It grew until it was the size of one of the statues surrounding the group. Its garments shredded and fell away and it was a man, dark and naked, with a red mouth full of fangs, with a yellow, glaring eye, with a presence which radiated immense and terrifying power.

  ‘I HAVE WON!'

  He cast about him, ignoring the party.

  'Sword,' he said. 'Now, where is the sword?'

  'It is here,' said a new voice. 'I have it here. Can you see me?'

  Chapter Five

  The Captain And The Steersman

  'It was found on the South Ice, at sunrise, after you had but recently left that world, Erekose. It had performed one action for humanity which was not directly to its benefit and so its spirit was driven from it.'

  The Captain stood there, his blind eyes staring beyond them. Next to him was his twin, the steersman, with arms outstretched, the great black runesword held on the flats of both palms.

  'It was that manifestation of the sword that we sought,' continued the Captain. 'It was a long quest for us and it lost us our ship.'

  'But surely,' said Erekose, 'so little time has passed since we left you?'

  The Captain smiled ironically. 'There is no such thing as time,' he said, 'particularly in Tanelorn, particularly at the Conjunction of the Million Spheres. If time existed, as men consider it, then how can you and Hawkmoon exist here together?'

  Erekose made no reply; he hugged his Eldren princess closer to him.

  The being roared. 'GIVE ME THE SWORD!'

  'I cannot,' said the Captain, 'as you well know. And you cannot take it. You can only inhabit (or be inhabited by) one of the two manifestations, sword or jewel. Never both.'

  The being snarled, but it made no movement towards the Black Sword.

  Hawkmoon looked at the staff the child had given him and he saw that he had been right, the runes in the staff corresponded in some manner to those on the sword. He addressed the Captain.

  'Who made these artifacts?'

  ‘The smiths who forged this sword long ago, close to the beginning of the Great Cycle, required a spirit to inhabit it to give it power above all other weapons. They struck a bargain with this spirit (whom we shall not name).' The Captain turned his blind head so that it faced the black creature. 'You were glad to accept it, then. Two swords were forged and part of you went into each, but one of the swords was destroyed, so you inhabited the whole of the remaining blade. The smiths who forged the swords were not human, but they worked for humanity. They sought to fight Chaos, at that time, for they were loyal to the Lords of Law. They thought they used Chaos to conquer Chaos. They learned the flaws in that belief...'

  ‘They did!' The creature grinned. 'Oh, they did!'

  'So they made the Runestaff and they sought the aid of your brother, who served Law. They did not realize that you and he are not really brothers at all, but aspects of the same single being, now united again, but infused with the power of the Black Jewel, with your own dark power magnified. A seeming paradox …’

  'A paradox I find most useful,' said the black being.

  The Captain ignored him, continuing: 'They made the jewel in an effort to trap you, to imprison you. It gave the jewel great power, it held the souls of others as well as your own, just as the sword did, but you could be released from the jewel just as sometimes you could be released from the sword...'

  ' "Banished" is a better word,' said the creature, 'for I love my body, the sword. There will always be men to bear me as a sword.'

  'Not always,' said the Captain. ‘The Cosmic Balance was the last great artifact created by these smiths before they returned to their own worlds - a symbol of Equilibrium between Law and Chaos, it had a power of its own, incorporated into the Runestaff - to produce Order between Law and Chaos. And it is that which checks even you, at this moment.'

  'Not when I have the Black Sword!'

  'You have tried for so long to assume complete domination of mankind, and sometimes, for a while, you have almost achieved it. The Conjunction takes place on many different worlds, in many different eras, the manifestations of the Champion Eternal perform their great deeds, to rid the multiverse of the gods their forebears' desires created. And, in a world free of gods, you can retain the power you have been greedy for through the ages. You slew Elric in one world; you slew the Silver Queen in another, you sought to slay Corum, you have slain more who thought you served them. But Elric's death set you free and the death of the Silver Queen brought life to the Earth when it was dying (your own interests were served, but the interest of mankind was, at last, served better). You could not get your "body" back. You felt your power waning. The experiments of two insane sorcerers on Hawkmoon's world induced a situation which you could exploit. You need the Champion Eternal, that is your fate, but he no longer needs you, so you had to gather captives and bargain with the Champion with those he loves. Now you have the power of the jewel and you have taken over the body of your brother, who was once Orland Fank's son. Now you would smash the Balance, but you know that in destroying the Balance you will be destroyed yourself. Unless you have a refuge - a new body into which your spirit can escape.'

  The Captain turned his head so that his sightless eyes seemed to regard Hawkmoon and Erekose.

  'Moreover,' he said, "the sword must be wielded by a manifestation of the Champion, and here are two such manifestations. How will you induce one of them to serve your purpose?'

  Hawkmoon looked at Erekose. He said: 'My loyalties were ever to the Runestaff, though I resented giving them, at times.'

  'And if I had loyalties, they were to the Black Sword,' said Erekose.

  'Which one of you will bear the Black Sword, then?' said the creature eagerly.

  'Neither has to bear it,' the Captain told them quickly.

  'But I now have the power to destroy all here," said the creature.

  'All save the two aspects of the Champion Eternal,' said the Captain, 'and my brother and myself, you cannot harm us.'

  'I will destroy Ermizhad, Yisselda, the children - these others. I will eat them. I will have their souls.' The black being opened his red mouth wide and he reached a hand of black radiance towards Yarmila. The girl stared bravely back, but she was shrinking from him.

  'And what will happen to us after you have destroyed the Balance?' asked Hawkmoon.

  'Nothing,' said the being. 'You can live out your lives in Tanelorn. Even I cannot destroy Tanelorn, though the rest of the multivers
e shall be mine.’

  'It is true, what he says,' said the Captain. 'And he will keep his word.'

  'But all humanity will suffer, save those in Tanelorn,' said Hawkmoon.

  'Aye,' said the Captain, 'we shall all suffer, save you.'

  ‘Then he must not be given the sword,' Hawkmoon said firmly, and he could not look at those he loved.

  'Humanity suffers already,' Erekose' said. 'I have sought Ermizhad through eternity. I deserve this. I have served humanity through eternity, save once. I have suffered too long.'

  'Would you repeat a crime?' asked the Captain quietly.

  Erekose ignored him, staring meaningfully at Hawkmoon. ‘The power of the Black Sword and the power of the Balance are equal at this moment, you say, Captain.'

  ‘That's so.'

  'And this being can inhabit either the sword or the jewel, not both?'

  And Hawkmoon understood the implication of Erekose's questions and kept his face expressionless.

  'Hurry!' said the black being from behind them. 'Hurry. The Balance materializes!'

  For an instant, Hawkmoon felt something of the experience that he had had when they had fought Agak and Gagak together, a oneness with Erekose, sharing his emotions and his thoughts.

  'Hurry, Erekose,' said the being. Take the sword!'

  Erekose turned his back on Hawkmoon, staring up into the sky.

  The Cosmic Balance hung, shining, in the sky, its scales in perfect equilibrium. It hung over that great concourse of statues, over every manifestation of the Eternal Champion there had ever been, over every woman he had ever loved, over every companion he had ever had. And, at that moment, it appeared to menace them all.

  Erekose took three paces until he stood before the steersman. There was no expression on the face of either man.

  'Give me the Black Sword,' said the Eternal Champion.

  Chapter Six

  The Sword And The Staff

  Erekose placed one large hand upon the hilt of the Black Sword and he placed the other under the blade, lifting it from the steersman's grasp.

  'Ah!' cried the creature. 'We are united!'

  And he flowed towards the Black Sword and he laughed as he entered it, and the sword began to pulse, to sing, to emanate black fire, and the creature was gone.

  But, Hawkmoon noticed, the Black Jewel had returned. He saw Jhary-a-Conel stoop and pick it up.

  Now Erekose's face glowed with a light of its own - a light of violence, of battle joy. His voice was a vibrating roar, a snarl of triumph. His eyes were alive with blood lust as he held the sword in two hands over his head, staring up at its long blade.

  'At last!' he shouted. 'Erekose shall have revenge on that which has manipulated his fate for so long! I will destroy the Cosmic Balance. With the Black Sword I will make amends for all the agony I have suffered through all the long ages of the multiverse! No longer do I serve humanity. Now I serve only the sword. Thus I shall be released from the bondage of aeons!'

  And the sword moaned and writhed and its black radiance fell upon Erekose's warrior's face and was reflected in his battle-mad eyes.

  'Now, I destroy the Balance!'

  And the sword seemed to pull Erekose from the ground, up into the sky, up towards where the Balance hung, serene, apparently invulnerable, and Erekose, Champion Eternal, had become huge and the sword blotted the light from the land.

  Hawkmoon continued to watch, but he said to Jhary-a-Conel, 'Jhary - the jewel - place it before me on the ground."

  And Erekose drew back his two arms to strike his blow. And he struck once.

  There came a sound as if ten million large bells rang at once, a shattering noise as if the very cosmos cracked apart, and the Black Sword cut through the links holding one of the scales and it began to fall, the other scale rising higher, the beam swinging rapidly on its axis.

  And the world shuddered.

  The vast circle of statues trembled and threatened to tumble to the ground, and all who watched gasped.

  And somewhere, something fell and broke into invisible fragments.

  They heard laughter from the sky, but it was impossible to tell if the sword or the man who bore it was the source.

  Erekose, huge and dreadful, drew back his arms for the second stroke.

  The sword swept through the sky and lightning flashed, thunder growled. It cut into the chains holding the other scale and that, too, fell.

  And again the world shuddered.

  And the Captain whispered: 'You have rid the worlds of gods, but now you rid it of order, too.'

  'Only of Authority," said Hawkmoon.

  The steersman looked at him with intelligence, with interest.

  Hawkmoon looked at the ground where the Black Jewel lay, dull, without life. Then he looked at the sky as Erekose struck his third and final blow, struck at the central staff of the ruined Balance.

  And light broke from the shattered remains and a strange, near-human howling reverberated through the world, and they were blinded and they were deafened.

  But Hawkmoon heard the single word he waited for. He heard Erekose's giant's voice call:

  'NOW!'

  And suddenly, the Runestaff was throbbing with life in Hawkmoon's right hand, and the Black Jewel began to pulse, and Hawkmoon raised his arm for a single, powerful blow, the only blow which would be allowed him.

  And he brought the Runestaff down with all his might upon the pulsing jewel.

  And the jewel shattered and it shouted and it moaned in outrage, and the staff shattered, too, in Hawkmoon's hand, and the dark light bursting from the one met with the golden light bursting from the other. There came a screaming, a wailing, a whimper, and finally the whimper died, and a ball of red stuff hung before them, glowing only faintly, for the power of the Runestaff had cancelled out the power of the Black Sword. Then the red globe began to rise into the sky, higher and higher, until it hung directly over their heads.

  And Hawkmoon was reminded of the star which had followed the Dark Ship on its voyage through the Seas of Limbo.

  And then the red globe was absorbed into the warmer red of the sun itself.

  The Black Jewel was gone. The Runestaff was gone. Destroyed, too, were the Black Sword and the Cosmic Balance. For a moment, their substance had sought refuge respectively in the jewel and the staff and it had been at that moment, when one destroyed the other, that Hawkmoon could use the other to destroy the one. It was what Erekose had been able to agree with him just before he accepted the Black Sword.

  And now something fell at Hawkmoon's feet.

  Weeping, Ermizhad kneeled beside the corpse. 'Erekose! Erekose!'

  'He has paid at last,' said Orland Fank. 'And at last he rests. He found Tanelorn and he found you, Ermizhad - and, finding them, he died for them.'

  But Ermizhad did not hear Orland Fank, for she was weeping; she was lost.

  Chapter Seven

  Going Back To Castle Brass

  ‘The time of the Conjunction is almost passed,' said the Captain, 'and the multiverse begins another cycle. Free of gods, free of what you, Hawkmoon, might term "cosmic authority. Perhaps it will never need heroes again.'

  'Only examples,' said Jhary-a-Conel. He was walking towards the statues, towards an empty space in the ranks. 'Farewell all of you. Farewell, Champion who is no longer Champion, and farewell to you, in particular, Oladahn.'

  'Where do you go, Mend?' asked the kin of the Mountain Giants, scratching at the red fur of his head.

  Jhary stopped and removed the little black and white cat from his shoulder. He pointed at the empty space amongst the statues. 'I go to take my place there. You live. I live. Farewell to you, for the very last time.'

  And he stepped amongst the statues, and instantly he was a statue, cocky, smiling, pleased with himself.

  'Is there a place for me there, too?' said Hawkmoon, turning to Orland Fank.

  'Not now,' said the Orkneyman, picking up Jhary-a-Conel's winged cat and stroking its back. It purred.
>
  Ermizhad stood up and the tears were gone from her eyes. Saying nothing to the others, she, too, stepped into the ranks of the statues, finding another space. She raised her hand in a gesture of farewell, her flesh turned to the same pale colour of the surrounding statues and she stood frozen as they were frozen, and Hawkmoon saw that near her was another statue, the statue of Erekose, who had sacrificed his life by taking up the Black Sword.

  'Now,' said the Captain, 'would you and yours stay in Tanelorn, Hawkmoon? You have earned the right.'

  Hawkmoon put his arms around the shoulders of his children. He saw that there was happiness in them and he became happy. Yisselda put her hand to his cheek and smiled at him.

  'No,' said Hawkmoon, 'we go back, I think, to Castle Brass. It is enough for us to know that Tanelorn exists. What of you, D'Averc? Oladahn? And you, Sir Bowgentle?'

  'I have much to tell you, Hawkmoon, beside a good fire, with the good wine of the Katnarg in my hand, with good friends around me,' said Huillam D'Averc. 'At Castle Brass my tales would be of interest, but they would only bore the folk of Tanelorn. I'll come with you.'

  'And I,' said Oladahn.

  Bowgentle, alone, seemed a little reluctant. He looked thoughtfully at the statues and back at the towers of Tanelorn, 'An interesting place. What created it, I wonder?'

  ‘We created it,' said the Captain, 'my brother and I.'

  'You?' Bowgentle smiled. 'I see.'

  'And what is your name, sir?' Hawkmoon asked. 'You and your brother, what are you called?' '

  'We have only one name,' said the Captain.

  And the steersman said: 'We are called Man.' He took his brother by the arm and began to lead him away from the circle of statues, back towards the city.

  In silence, Hawkmoon, his family and his friends watched them go.

  It was Orland Fank, clearing his throat, who broke the silence. 'I will stay, I think. My tasks are all completed. My quest is finished. I have seen my son come to peace of a kind. I will stay in Tanelorn.'

  'Are there no gods left for you to serve?' asked Brut of Lashmar.

  'Gods are but metaphors,' said Orland Fank. 'As metaphors they might be very acceptable - but they should never be allowed to become beings in their own right.' Again he cleared his throat, seeming embarrassed by his next remark, ‘The wine of poetry turns to poison when it becomes politics, eh?'