Sojan the Swordsman

by Michael Moorcock

  Sojan lifted his arm to shield his face and flung himself backwards as a branch speared through the ship like a fork through a fish and nearly impaled him at the same time. Eventually the noise stopped and, although the ship was swaying dangerously and threatening to fall apart any moment, sending the men to destruction, Sojan and his friends found that they had only bruises and scratches.

  Sojan’s barbarian instincts came to the rescue. Cat-footed as ever, he clambered out of the wreckage onto the branch which had almost killed him.

  “Quick!” he yelled, “after me!”

  His friends followed quickly, Parijh panting with the effort. They moved cautiously along the branch and finally reached the trunk of the tree. Down they clambered, easily now for the tree was full of strong branches and it was only a drop of four or five feet to the ground.

  Sojan looked up to where the airship dangled, its great gasbag deflated, the gondola smashed and torn.

  “When that falls,” he said, “we’d better be some distance away for it’s likely that the engine will explode.”

  “There go our supplies and rifles and ammunition,” said Nornos Rique quietly.

  “We’ve got our lives — for the present at least,” Sojan reminded him. “We’ll have to head steadily northwards and hope that we don’t strike a mountain range. If we are lucky we can follow a river across a plain. Several plains adjoin civilised or semi-civilised territories, don’t they, Parijh?”

  “One of them runs into my own country of Uffjir, Sojan, but there’s one chance in fifty of making it!”

  “Then it looks as if we’ll have to chance it, Parijh,” Sojan replied slowly, looking over towards the east. “But at least we shall be able to ride. There — see?”

  They looked in the direction in which he was pointing. About a mile away, a herd of myats grazed placidly.

  “Fan out — we should catch them easily if we organise properly,” Sojan called.

  Slowly, so that they would not disturb the animals, Sojan and his friends closed in on the myats. Once trapped they were easily caught for, unlike most animals used as beasts of burden, myats were bred originally for the sole purpose of carrying human beings so that even wild ones were relatively docile.

  Within a day their animals were captured and trained. The friends cheered up considerably now that they were mounted. They made good time, for these myats were particularly strong and fast, and they took direction from the twin suns.

  Some days later Sojan caught sight of a strange gleam in the distance — as if the sun was glancing off a highly polished surface.

  “Head in that direction,” he called to his companions. “There seems to be a building of some kind over there!”

  And sure enough, it was a building. A great glistening domed construction, rising hundreds of feet into the air. It was built of a similar stone to marble. But what exactly was it? And why was it standing alone in such a savage wilderness? Perhaps what troubled the companions more than anything was whether there were men using it now. And were they friendly or otherwise?

  “The only way to find out who or what is in there is to go nearer,” said Andel.

  “You’re right,” agreed Sojan. “Let’s go!”

  They forced their steeds into a quick trot, growing increasingly astonished, as they neared it, at the building’s enormous proportions.

  They dismounted silently and made their way cautiously to the wide entrance of the place, which was apparently unguarded.

  There were windows high above them, probably set in rooms situated at different levels in the building. Part of the roof was flat but most of it rose in the magnificent dome they had first seen. Although there were no signs of corrosion at all, the men got the impression that the building was centuries old.

  “There seem to be no stairs in the place,” mused Sojan, looking around him at the gleaming marble hall which they had entered. To his left were two sheets of shining metal, seemingly set into the walls for no reason. To his right was an archway leading into a room just as bare as the one in which they now stood.

  “Wonder what these are?” Red said, brushing his hand across one of the metal sheets.

  Instantly there was a faint hum and the sheet of metal disappeared upwards, revealing a small indentation! Was it a cupboard?

  Red stepped warily into the alcove, sword in hand. At once, the sheet of metal hummed downwards behind him.

  “By Vit! He’s trapped!” cried Sojan.

  He brushed his own hand across the metal, but nothing happened. For several minutes he tried to open the metal door but it seemed impossible. How Red had done it, they could not tell.

  Suddenly from the outside came a yell.

  Rushing into the sunlight they looked up — and there was Red, very cheerful, grinning down on them from a window of the tenth storey, the one nearest the roof.

  “How did you get up there?” called Nornos Rique.

  “The ‘cupboard’ took me up! It’s a kind of moving box which lifts you up to any storey you wish. Though I had to let it take me all the way up. There were lots of buttons to press, but I dare not press any of them. After I’d got out, the doors closed again. I tried to get back in but the doors at that end wouldn’t move. It looks as if I’m stuck here for life.”

  He didn’t look as if he was particularly worried about the prospect.

  Comprehending, Sojan rushed back into the great hall and again passed his hand over the metal ‘door’. It hummed upwards. He didn’t step in immediately but waited for his friends to join him.

  “The ones who built this place must have been wonderful engineers,” remarked Sojan. “That’s no great surprise now I recognise the language in which the directions for the operation of that thing were written — it’s old Kifinian!”

  “What?” exclaimed Parijh. “You mean that the ancestors of the Kifinians built this?”

  “Obviously. They were famous for their engineering skills. It has to be Kifinian work. Otherwise how do you explain the language?”

  “From what you learned at the Temple of Rhan, Sojan,” mused Nornos Rique, “the ancestors of the entire planet, so far as human beings like ourselves are concerned, came from another planet thousands of years ago — perhaps this was built before the race spread and degenerated. But what could it be?”

  “I think I know,” answered Sojan. “Notice how the whole area around the building is entirely treeless — a flat plain — a few shrubs, now, and other vegetation, but for the most part flat. This place was a landing field for airships of some kind. We have, as you know, similar landing fields all over the civilised parts of Zylor. This building was no doubt a control station of some description.”

  Suddenly Red who had been standing by the window called to his friends. “Look, down there!” he yelled. “Savages, hundreds of them!”

  Below them swarmed a silent mass of strange near-human creatures. They all carried spears and short, broad-bladed swords. They were covered in tightly matted hair and had long tails curling behind them.

  “We seem to have violated taboo ground, judging by their actions,” said Parijh who knew this people better than the rest, for his race occasionally traded with them. “They won’t enter, themselves, but they will wait until we come out — as come out we must, for food.”

  “The best thing we can do,” said Andel, “is to look around this place and see if there is any other way out.”

  “Good idea,” agreed Sojan, “if you see any more of those metal plates, try to open them.”

  They split up and each explored a certain section of the floor. Soon they heard Andel call from the centre of the building. Rushing to the room from which he had called they were astounded to see a large, opened panel. This one revealed a kind of bridge spanning a drop which must have gone right down to the foundations. The bridge led to a huge, streamlined shell of gleaming metal fitted with triangular fins.

  They stepped onto the bridge and moved in single file across it until they reached a doo
r. Scowling faintly, Sojan deciphered the ancient hieroglyphics on it.

  “Here we are,” he said, pressing a button. “To Open.” And open it did.

  “It’s obviously an airship of some kind,” said Andel, who was the most mechanically minded of the five. “Probably a ship similar to the ones in which our ancestors came to this planet.”

  “You mean an airship capable of travelling — through space?” said Sojan.

  “Perhaps,” said Andel, “but also travelling from continent to continent probably. If only we knew how to operate it!”

  They finally managed to find the control room of the ship. All around them were tiers of dials and instruments. Working quickly, now that the script was becoming more familiar to him, Sojan deciphered most of the captions on the instruments. Set on the main control panel were levers marked, ‘Automatic, Emergency, Poltoon’, ‘Automatic, Emergency, Jhar’, etc. The names were those of continents.

  “We can’t stay here all the time,” said Sojan. “If we stay we will starve to death, if we go outside we die, we might as well risk it.” So saying, and without waiting for his friends’ advice he pulled the lever marked Poltoon and stood back.

  There came a gentle hum as the door through which they had entered closed. Another hum grew steadily louder and the entire roof of the building opened out letting in the sunlight. Then a hiss and a rumble like thunder and Sojan and his companions were thrown to the floor. Still the rumble increased until blackness overcame them and they lost consciousness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ship of the Ancients

  SOJAN WAS THE first to recover. Looking through the forward porthole he saw a sight which to him was terrifying. The velvet blackness of outer space, stars set like diamonds in its ebony beauty.

  There was another rumble from the depths of the ship. With animal tenacity he sought to cling to consciousness. But it was no good. He collapsed once more on the floor of the ship.

  He awoke a second time to see a blue sky above him and green vegetation beneath him. His friends rose on shaky legs.

  “We’re not much better off, it seems,” grinned Sojan, cheerful now. “We’re in the Poltoonian Wilderness. The nearest civilised land is Tigurn. See, over there are the remains of a port similar to the one on the Shortani plain.”

  He pulled another lever. Immediately the portholes disappeared and they had the sensation of moving downwards at great velocity. A high-pitched whine and they stopped. A panel slid open and a small bridge moved outwards over a drop of some five feet above the ground.

  “There was probably a landing stage at this point,” said Sojan with the air of an ancient professor delivering a lecture. “Anyway,” he laughed, “we can drop the last few feet.”

  When they reached the ground they stood back.

  Then the faint purr of machinery and the doors closed. Another sound, not quite so smooth — the chug-chug of an airship motor. The companions turned and saw several large airships of standard pattern circling above them. They flew the banner of Pelira, a country which had allegiance to Hatnor. Flying low, the captain of the airship inspected them, saw that they were not the strange monsters he had expected and landed his craft lightly fifty feet away from them. They ran towards it.

  The look of astonishment on the captain’s face was ludicrous. He immediately recognised the companions who, since their conquest of the Priest Rulers of Rhan, had become Zylorian heroes.

  “What — what —?” was all he could get out at first.

  “How’re you fixed for fuel, friend?” laughed Sojan.

  “We — we’ve got a full tank, sir, but how…?”

  “Then head for Hatnor,” grinned the adventurer. “We’ll explain on the way.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Sons of the Snake God

  “WHO SEEKS TO set foot in Dhar-Im-Jak?”

  A harsh voice rang across the harbour to the merchantman Kintonian Trader, which rode at anchor there.

  The captain cupped his hands into a megaphone and roared back at the soldier.

  “Sojan Shieldbearer, late of the Court of Nornos Kald in Hatnor, mercenary swordsman! Seeking employment!”

  “I’ve heard of him. Very well, we need good sword-arms in Dhar-Im-Jak, tell him he may land!”

  Traani, the captain of the Trader, called down to Sojan who sat sprawled in his cabin.

  “They say you can land, Sojan!”

  “Right, I’ll get my gear together.”

  Ten minutes later, a tall figure stepped onto the deck of the ship. His long fair hair was held back from his eyes by a fillet of metal, his dark blue eyes had a strange, humorous glint in them. Over a jerkin of green silk was flung a heavy cloak of yellow, his blue breeches were tucked into leather boots. Upon his back was slung a long and powerful air-rifle, on his left arm he carried a round shield. From a belt around his waist were hung a long vilthor and a pistol holster. Sojan the Swordsman was looking for work.

  Later that day, in an inn near the city centre, Sojan met the man to whom he had been directed when he had told the authorities of the harbour what kind of employment he was seeking.

  “You’re looking for employment in the ranks of the regular military, I hear? What qualifications do you have?” he said.

  “I was commander of the Armies of Imperial Hatnor for nearly a year. In that time I succeeded in stopping a rising in Veronlam, a similar rising in Asno, I organised the Poltoonian barbarians when Nornos Kald was deposed and restored him to his throne, I and four others were instrumental in utterly destroying the would-be conquerors of Zylor — the Rhanian Theocracy. I have been involved in several minor border wars, but of late things have quietened down and I thought that I would try my luck somewhere else. I heard of the impending war between the city states of Dhar-Im-Jak and Forsh-Mai and decided that I would like to take part.”

  “I have heard of you, Sojan. Your remark about Rhan jogged my memory. I feel that you would be a great asset to us. We need more professional soldiers of your calibre. As you know, both Dhar-Im-Jak and Forsh-Mai have been on friendly terms for hundreds of years, neither of us had any use for regular armies. Then about a year ago this new religious cult took over the ruling of Forsh-Mai and quickly formed an army of soldiers, spies, troublemakers and all kinds of undercover men. We seem to have an epidemic of religious cults! The quickest way of turning friend against friend, eh? Only recently our own spies brought us news that, as we suspected, Forsh-Mai was preparing to march into Dhar-Im-Jak and take over our republic.”

  “Have you any idea when they intend to attack?”

  “In two weeks’ time, no less, I’m sure.”

  “Then we must work quickly. I would be grateful to know what kind of command you intend giving me?”

  “I shall have to discuss that with my superiors. I will naturally let you know as soon as possible.”

  Edek rose, downed the last of his drink and, with a short nod, left the inn. Just as Sojan was rising, there came a scream from the alley. Sword out, he rushed for the door to see a girl struggling in the grip of several burly fighting men. They were obviously bent on kidnapping her and Sojan lost no time in engaging the nearest hireling.

  The man was an expert swordsman, his thrusts were well timed and it was all Sojan could do, at first, to parry them. The man’s companions were still holding the girl who now seemed to be making no attempt to get free.

  The clash of steel was music to Sojan and a grim fighting smile appeared on his lips. Suddenly he felt a hard blow on the back of his head and he was consumed by darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Castle of Kandoon

  SOJAN REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS in a small room, barred on both door and windows. Standing over him were two men; one held a water jug in his hand with which he was dousing Sojan.

  “So our hard-headed mercenary is at last awake, I see!” The tone was gloating. The man’s face did not belie the impression his voice gave. His thick black locks and beard were curled and o
iled.

  Upon his fingers were heavy rings, his nails were tinted with gold. Sojan looked at him in disgust. The bejewelled fop signalled to his companion to throw some more water at Sojan. Instantly Sojan rose and knocked the jug flying across the small cell.

  “If your manners were as fine as the silks you wear, my friend, I should take you for some sort of man!”

  The fop’s face twisted for a moment and he half raised his hand. Then he smiled and dropped the hand to his side.

  “We’ll allow the wolf some time in which to cool the heat of his temper as water seems to be no use,” he murmured. “Come, Elvit, let us leave this place — it smells!”

  Sojan signalled to the guard who was locking the door.

  “What place is this, friend?”

  “You’re in the Castle of Kandoon, swordsman, we caught you nicely, didn’t we? That ruse in getting a girl to pretend that she was being captured was Lord Kandoon’s idea. He’s a clever one. You’d be better off to be a little more civil to him, he is thinking of employing you.”

  Several hours later, Kandoon returned with the same escort.

  “Now, Sojan,” he smiled, “I can understand your annoyance at being locked up in this place — but it was the only way in which we could — um — convince you of our sincerity when we offer you fifty thousand derkas to take command of our armies and lead them to glorious victory for the State of Forsh-Mai. We, the Sons of the Snake, will conquer all. Everything will be yours. What say you, man, is that not a fair proposition?”

  “Aye, it’s fair,” Sojan’s eyes narrowed. He decided to bluff for a while. “Fifty thousand you say?”

  “That and any spoils you can take for yourself when we loot Dhar-Im-Jak!”

  “But what’s this ‘Sons of the Snake’ you mention? Do I have to join some secret society to wield a sword for fifty thousand derkas?”

  “That is a necessary part of our offer, Sojan. We are, after all, doing this for the glory of Rij the Snake, Lord of the World and the After World, Master of Darkness, Ruler of the…”