The Sailor on the Seas of Fate, Page 3

  “Two?” said Hawkmoon. “Only two?”

  “Only two.” The Captain smiled. “A brother and a sister. Sorcerers from quite another universe than ours. Due to recent disruptions in the fabric of our worlds—of which you know something, Hawkmoon, and you, too, Corum—certain beings have been released who would not other­wise have the power they now possess. And possessing great power, they crave for more—for all the power that there is in our universe. These beings are amoral in a way in which the Lords of Law or Chaos are not. They do not fight for influence upon the Earth, as those gods do; their only wish is to convert the essential energy of our universe to their own uses. I believe they foster some ambition in their particular universe which would be furthered if they could achieve their wish. At present, in spite of conditions highly favourable to them, they have not attained their full strength, but the time is not far off before they do attain it. Agak and Gagak is how they are called in human tongue and they are outside the power of any of our gods, so a more powerful group has been summoned—yourselves. The Champion Eternal in four of his incarnations (and four is the maximum number we can risk without precipitat­ing further unwelcome disruptions amongst the planes of earth)—Erekose, Elric, Corum and Hawkmoon. Each of you will command four others, whose fates are linked with your own and who are great fighters in their own right, though they do not share your destinies in every sense. You may each pick four with whom you wish to fight. I think you will find it easy enough to decide. We make landfall quite shortly now.”

  “You will lead us?” Hawkmoon said.

  “I cannot. I can only take you to the island and wait for those who survive—if any survive.”

  Elric frowned. “This fight is not mine, I think.”

  “It is yours,” said the Captain soberly. “And it is mine. I would land with you if that were permitted me, but it is not.”

  “Why so?” asked Corum.

  “You will learn that one day. I have not the courage to tell you. I bear you nothing but good will, however. Be assured of that.”

  Erekose rubbed his jaw. “Well, since it is my destiny to fight, and since I, like Hawkmoon, continue to seek Tanelorn, and since I gather there is some chance of my fulfilling my ambition if I am successful, I for one agree to go against these two, Agak and Gagak.”

  Hawkmoon nodded. “I go with Erekose, for similar reasons.”

  “And I,” said Corum.

  “Not long since,” said Elric, “I counted myself without comrades. Now I have many. For that reason alone I will fight with them.”

  “It is perhaps the best of reasons,” said Erekose approvingly.

  “There is no reward for this work, save my assurance that your success will save the world much misery,” said the Captain. “And for you, Elric, there is less reward than the rest may hope for.”

  “Perhaps not,” said Elric.

  “As you say.” The Captain gestured towards the jug of wine. “More wine, my friends?”

  They each accepted, while the Captain continued, his blind face staring upward at the roof of the cabin.

  “Upon this island is a ruin—perhaps it was once a city called Tanelorn—and at the centre of the ruin stands one whole building. It is this building which Agak and his sister use. It is that which you must attack. You will recognize it, I hope, at once.”

  “And we must slay this pair?” said Erekose.

  “If you can. They have servants who help them. These must be slain also. Then the building must be fired. This is important.” The Captain paused. “Fired. It must be destroyed in no other way.”

  Elric smiled a dry smile. “There are few other ways of destroying buildings, Sir Captain.”

  The Captain returned his smile and made a slight bow of acknowledgement. “Aye, it's so. Nonetheless, it is worth remembering what I have said.”

  “Do you know what these two look like, these Agak and Gagak?” Corum asked.

  “No. It is possible that they resemble creatures of our own worlds, it is possible that they do not. Few have seen them. It is only recently that they have been able to materialize at all.”

  “And how may they best be overwhelmed?” asked Hawkmoon.

  “By courage and ingenuity,” said the Captain.

  “You are not very explicit, sir,” said Elric.

  “I am as explicit as I can be. Now, my friends, I suggest you rest and prepare your arms.”

  As they returned to their cabins, Erekose sighed.

  “We are fated,” he said. “We have little free will, for all we deceive ourselves otherwise. If we perish or live through this venture, it will not count for much in the overall scheme of things.”

  “I think you are of a gloomy turn of mind, friend,” said Hawkmoon.

  The mist snaked through the branches of the mast, writhing in the rigging, flooding the deck. It swirled across the faces of the other three men as Elric looked at them.

  “A realistic turn of mind,” said Corum.

  The mist massed more thickly upon the deck, mantling each man like a shroud. The timbers of the ship creaked and to Elric's ears took on the sound of a raven's croak. It was colder now. In silence they went to their cabins to test the hooks and buckles of their armour, to polish and to sharpen their weapons and to pretend to sleep.

  “Oh, I've no liking for sorcery,” said Brut of Lashmar, tugging at his golden beard, “for sorcery it was resulted in my shame.” Elric had told him all that the Captain had said and had asked Brut to be one of the four who fought with him when they landed.

  “It is all sorcery here,” Otto Blendker said. And he smiled wanly as he gave Elric his hand. “I'll fight beside you, Elric.”

  His sea-green armour shimmering faintly in the lantern light, another rose, his casque pushed back from his face. It was a face almost as white as Elric's, though the eyes were deep and near-black. “And I,” said Hown Serpent-tamer, “though I fear I'm little use on still land.”

  The last to rise, at Elric's glance, was a warrior who had said little during their earlier conversations. His voice was deep and hesitant. He wore a plain iron battle-cap and the red hair beneath it was braided. At the end of each braid was a small finger-bone which rattled on the shoulders of his byrnie as he moved. This was Ashnar the Lynx whose eyes were rarely less than fierce. “I lack the eloquence or the breeding of you other gentlemen,” said Ashnar. “And I've no familiarity with sorcery or those other things of which you speak, but I'm a good soldier and my joy is in fighting. I'll take your orders, Elric, if you'll have me.”

  “Willingly,” said Elric.

  “There is no dispute, it seems,” said Erekose to the remaining four who had elected to join him. “All this is doubtless pre-ordained. Our destinies have been linked from the first.”

  “Such philosophy can lead to unhealthy fatalism,” said Terndrik of Hasghan. “Best believe our fates are our own, even if the evidence denies it.”

  “You must think as you wish,” said Erekose. “I have led many lives, though all, save one, are remembered but faintly.” He shrugged. “Yet I deceive myself, I suppose, in that I work for a time when I shall find this Tanelorn and perhaps be re-united with the one I seek. That ambition is what gives me energy, Terndrik.”

  Elric smiled. “I fight, I think, because I relish the comradeship of battle. That, in itself, is a melancholy condition in which to find oneself, is it not?”

  “Aye.” Erekose glanced at the floor. “Well, we must try to rest now.”

  Chapter 4

  The outlines of the coast were dim. They waded through white water and white mist, their swords held above their heads. Swords were their only weapons. Each of the Four possessed a blade of unusual size and design, but none bore a sword which occasionally murmured to itself as did Elric's Stormbringer. Glancing back, Elric saw the Captain standing at the rail, his blind face turned towards the island, his pale lips moving as if he spoke to himself. Now the water was waist deep and the sand beneath Elric's feet hardened and became
smooth rock. He waded on, wary and ready to carry any attack to those who might be defending the island. But now the mist grew thinner, as if it could gain no hold on the land, and there were no obvious signs of defenders.

  Tucked into his belt, each man had a brand, its end wrapped in oiled cloth so that it should not be wet when the time came to light it. Similarly, each was equipped with a handful of smouldering tinder in a little fire-box in a pouch attached to his belt, so that the brands could be instantly ignited.

  “Only fire will destroy this enemy forever,” the Captain had said again as he handed them their brands and their tinderboxes.

  As the mist cleared, it revealed a landscape of dense shadows. The shadows spread over red rock and yellow vegetation and they were shadows of all shapes and dimensions, resembling all manner of things. They seemed cast by the huge blood-coloured sun which stood at perpetual noon above the island; but what was disturbing about them was that the shadows themselves seemed without a source, as if the objects they represented were invisible or existed elsewhere than on the island itself. The sky, too, seemed full of these shadows, but whereas those on the island were still, those in the sky sometimes moved, perhaps when the clouds moved. And all the while the red sun poured down its bloody light and touched the twenty men with its unwelcome radiance just as it touched the land.

  And at times, as they advanced cautiously inland, a peculiar flickering light sometimes crossed the island so that the outlines of the place became unsteady for a few seconds before returning to focus. Elric suspected his eyes and said nothing until Hown Serpent-tamer (who was having difficulty finding his land-legs) remarked:

  “I have rarely been ashore, it's true, but I think the quality of this land is stranger than any other I've known. It shimmers. It distorts.”

  Several voices agreed with him.

  “And from whence come all these shadows?” Ashnar the Lynx stared around him in unashamed superstitious awe. “Why cannot we see that which casts them?”

  “It could be,” Corum said, “that these are shadows cast by objects existing in other dimensions of the Earth. If all dimensions meet here, as has been suggested, that could be a likely explanation.” He put his silver hand to his embroidered eye-patch. “This is not the strangest example I have witnessed of such a conjunction.”

  “Likely?” Otto Blendker snorted. “Pray let none give me an unlikely explanation, if you please!”

  They pressed on through the shadows and the lurid light until they arrived at the outskirts of the ruins.

  These ruins, thought Elric, had something in common with the ramshackle city of Ameeron which he had visited on his quest for the Black Sword. But they were altogether more vast—more a collection of smaller cities, each one in a radically different architectural style.

  “Perhaps this is Tanelorn,” said Corum, who had visited the place, “or, rather, all the versions of Tanelorn there have ever been. For Tanelorn exists in many forms, each depending upon the wishes of those who most desire to find her.”

  “This is not the Tanelorn I expected to find,” said Hawkmoon bitterly.

  “Nor I,” added Erekose bleakly.

  “Perhaps it is not Tanelorn,” said Elric. “Perhaps it is not.”

  “Or perhaps this is a graveyard,” said Corum distantly, frowning with his single eye. “A graveyard containing all the forgotten versions of that strange city.”

  They began to clamber over the ruins, their arms clatter­ing as they moved, heading for the centre of the place. Elric could tell by the introspective expressions in the faces of many of his companions that they, like him, were wondering if this were not a dream. Why else should they find themselves in this peculiar situation, unquestionably risking their lives—perhaps their souls—in a fight with which none of them was identified?

  Erekose moved closer to Elric as they marched. “Have you noticed,” said he, “that the shadows now represent something?”

  Elric nodded. “You can tell from the ruins what some of the buildings looked like when they were whole. The shadows are the shadows of those buildings—the original buildings before they became ruined.”

  “Just so,” said Erekose. Together, they shuddered.

  At last they approached the likely centre of the place and here was a building which was not ruined. It stood in a cleared space, all curves and ribbons of metal and glowing tubes.

  “It resembles a machine more than a building,” said Hawkmoon.

  “And a musical instrument more than a machine,” Corum mused.

  The party came to a halt, each group of four gathering about its leader. There was no question but that they had arrived at their goal.

  Now that Elric looked carefully at the building he could see that it was in fact two buildings—both absolutely identical and joined at various points by curling systems of pipes which might be connecting corridors, thought it was difficult to imagine what manner of being could utilize them.

  “Two buildings,” said Erekose. “We were not prepared for this. Shall we split up and attack both?”

  Instinctively Elric felt that this action would be unwise. He shook his head. “I think we should go together into one, else our strength will be weakened.”

  “I agree,” said Hawkmoon, and the rest nodded.

  Thus, there being no cover to speak of, they marched boldly towards the nearest building to a point near the ground where a black opening of irregular proportions could be discerned. Ominously, there was still no sign of defenders. The buildings pulsed and glowed and occasion­ally whispered, but that was all.

  Elric and his party were the first to enter, finding themselves in a damp, warm passage which curved almost immediately to the right. They were followed by the others until all stood in this passage, warily glaring ahead, expecting to be attacked. But no attack came.

  With Elric at their head, they moved on for some moments before the passage began to tremble violently and sent Hown Serpent-tamer crashing to the floor cursing. As the man in the sea-green armour scrambled up, a voice began to echo along the passage, seemingly coming from a great distance yet nonetheless loud and irritable.

  ”Who? Who? Who?” shrieked the voice.

  “Who? Who? Who invades me?”

  The passage's tremble subsided a little into a constant quivering motion. The voice became a muttering, detached and uncertain.

  “What attacks? What?”

  The twenty men glanced at one another in puzzlement. At length Elric shrugged and led the party on and soon the passage had widened out into a hall whose walls, roof and floor were damp with sticky fluid and whose air was hard to breathe. And now, somehow passing themselves through the walls of this hall, came the first of the defenders, ugly beasts who must be the servants of that mysterious brother and sister Agak and Gagak.

  “Attack!” cried the distant voice. “Destroy this. Destroy it!”

  The beasts were of a primitive sort, mostly gaping mouth and slithering body, but there were many of them oozing towards the twenty men who quickly formed them­selves into the four fighting units and prepared to defend themselves. The creatures made a dreadful slushing sound as they approached and the ridges of bone which served them as teeth clashed as they reared up to snap at Elric and his companions. Elric whirled his sword and it met hardly any resistance as it sliced through several of the things at once. But now the air was thicker than ever and a stench threatened to overwhelm them as fluid drenched the floor.

  “Move on through them,” Elric instructed, “hacking a path through as you go. Head for yonder opening.” He pointed with his left hand.

  And so they advanced, cutting back hundreds of the primitive beasts and thus decreasing the breathability of the air.

  “The creatures are not hard to fight,” gasped Hown Serpent-tamer, “but each one we kill robs us a little of our own chances of life.”

  Elric was aware of the irony. “Cunningly planned by our enemies, no doubt.” He coughed and slashed again at a dozen o
f the beasts slithering towards him. The things were fearless, but they were stupid, too. They made no attempt at strategy.

  Finally Elric reached the next passage, where the air was slightly purer. He sucked gratefully at the sweeter atmosphere and waved his companions on.

  Sword-arms rising and falling, they gradually retreated back into the passage, followed by only a few of the beasts. The creatures seemed reluctant to enter the passage and Elric suspected that somewhere within it there must lie a danger which even they feared. There was nothing for it, however, but to press on, and he was only grateful that all twenty had survived this initial ordeal.

  Gasping, they rested for a moment, leaning against the trembling walls of the passage, listening to the tones of that distant voice, now muffled and indistinct.

  “I like not this castle at all,” growled Brut of Lashmar, inspecting a rent in his cloak where a creature had seized it. “High sorcery commands it.”

  “It is only what we knew,” Ashnar the Lynx reminded him, and Ashnar was plainly hard put to control his terror. The finger-bones in his braids kept time with the trembling of the walls and the huge barbarian looked almost pathetic as he steeled himself to go on.

  “They are cowards, these sorcerers,” Otto Blendker said. “They do not show themselves.” He raised his voice. “Is their aspect so loathsome that they are afraid lest we look upon them?” It was a challenge not taken up. As they pushed on through the passages there was no sign either of Agak or his sister Gagak. It became gloomier and brighter in turns. Sometimes the passage narrowed so that it was difficult to squeeze their bodies through, sometimes they widened into what were almost halls. Most of the time they appeared to be climbing higher into the building.

  Elric tried to guess the nature of the building's inhabitants. There were no steps in the castle, no artefacts he could recognize. For no particular reason he developed an image of Agak and Gagak as reptilian in form, for reptiles would prefer gently rising passages to steps and doubtless would have little need of conventional furniture. There again it was possible that they could change their shape at will, assuming human form when it suited them. He was becoming impatient to face either one or both of the sorcerers.