Stormbringer

One

Across the world the shadow of anarchy had fallen. Neither god, nor man, nor that which ruled both could clearly read the future and see the fate of Earth as the Forces of Chaos increased their strength through the machinations of their human minions.

From Westland mountain, over the agitated ocean to Southland plain. Chaos now held its monstrous sway. Tormented, miserable, unable to hope any longer for liberation from the corroding, warping influence of Chaos, the remnants of races fled over the two continents already fallen to the human minions of Disorder, led by their warped Theocrat Jagreen Lern of Pan Tang, aquiline, high-shouldered and greedy for power, in his glowing scarlet armour, controlling human vultures and supernatural creatures alike as he widened his black boundaries.

Upon the face of the Earth all was disruption and roaring anguish' save for the thinly populated, already threatened Eastern continent and the Isle of the Purple Towns, which now readied itself to withstand Jagreen Lern's initial onslaught. The on-rushing tide of Chaos must soon sweep the world unless some great force could be summoned to halt it Bleakly, bitterly, the few who still resisted Jagreen Lern, under the command of Elric of Melnibone, talked of strategy and tactics in the full knowledge that more than these were needed to beat back Jagreen Lern's unholy horde.

Desperately, Elric attempted to utilise the ancient sorcery of his emperor forefathers to contact the White Lords of Law; but he was unused to seeking such aid and, as well, the forces of Chaos were now so strong, that those of Law could no longer gain easy access to the Earth as they had contrived to do in earlier times.

As they prepared for the coming fight, Elric and his allies watt about the preparation with heavy Routs and a sense of the futility of such action. And, in the back of Elric's mind, was the constant knowledge that even if he won against Chaos, the very act of winning would destroy the world he knew and leave it ripe for the forces of Law to rule-and there would be no place in such a world for the wild albino sorcerer.

Beyond the earthly plane, in their bordering realms, the Lords of Chaos and of Law, watched the struggle and even they did not realise Elric's entire destiny.

Chaos triumphed. Chaos blocked the efforts of Law on each occasion they tried to pass through the domain of Chaos, now the only road to Earth. And the Lords of Law shared Elric’s frustration.

And, if Chaos and Law were observing the Earth and her struggle, who watched these? For Chaos and Law were but the twin weights in a balance and the hand that held the balance, though it rarely deigned to interfere in their struggle, still less in tile affairs of men, had reached the rare state of a decision to alter the status quo. Which weight would drop? Which rise? Could men decide? Could the Lords decide? Or could only the Cosmic Hand remould the pattern of the Earth, reforming her stuff, changing her spiritual constituents and placing her on a different path, a fresh course of destiny?

Perhaps all would play some part before the outcome was decided.

The great zodiac influencing the universe and its' Ages, had completed its twelve cycles and the cycles would soon begin again. The wheel would spin and, when it stopped its spinning, which symbol would dominate, how changed would it be?

Great movements, on the Earth and beyond it; great destinies were being shaped, great deeds were being planned and, marvellously, could it just be possible that in spite of the Lords of the Higher Worlds, in spite of the Cosmic Hand, in spite of the myriad supernatural denizens that swarmed the universe, that Man might decide the issue?

Even - one man?

One man, one sword, one destiny?

Elric of Melnibone sat hunched in his saddle, watching the warriors bustle to and fro around him in the city square of Bakshaan, here, years before he had conducted a siege against the city's leading merchant, tricked others and left rich. but such scores that they held against him were now forgotten, pushed from their minds by the threat of war and the knowledge that if Elric's command could not save them, nothing could. The walls of the city were being widened and heightened, warriors being trained in the use of unfamiliar war-engines. From being a lazy merchant city, Bakshaan had become a functional place, ready for battle when it came.

For a month, Elric had been riding the length and breadth of the eastern kingdoms of Ilmiora and Vilmir, overseeing preparations, building the strength of the two nations into an efficient war machine.

Now he studied parchments handed him by his lieutenants and, recalling all the old tactical skill of his ancestors, gave them his decisions.

The sun set and heavy black clouds hung against a sharp, metallic blue sky, stretching over the horizon. Elric loosened his cloak strings and allowed the folds of the garment to enclose him, for a chill had come. Then, as he silently regarded the sky to the west, he frowned as he noticed something like a flashing golden star appear, moving swiftly towards him.

Ever wary for signs of the coming of Chaos, he turned in his saddle shouting:

«Every man to his position! Ware the golden globe! »

The thing approached rapidly until soon, it was hanging over the city, all men looking up at it in astonishment, their hands on their weapons. As black night fell, the clouds admitting no moonlight, the globe began to fall towards the spires of Bakshaan, a strange luminescence pulsing from it. Elric tugged Stormbringer from its scabbard and black fire nickered along the blade as it gave out a low moaning sound. The globe touched the cobbles of the city-square-broke into a million fragments that glowed for a moment before vanishing.

Elric laughed in relief, resheathing Stormbringer as he saw who now stood in the place of the golden globe.

«Sepiriz, my friend. You choose strange means of transport to carry you from the Gorge of Nihrain.»

The tall, black-faced seer smiled, his white pointed steed pranced. «I have so few carriages of that type, that I must only use them when pressed. I come with news for you, much news.»

«I hope it is good, for we have enough had to last us forever.»

«It is mixed. Where can we converse in private?»

«My headquarters are in yonder mansion, » Elric pointed at a richly decorated house on the far side of the square.

Inside, Elric poured yellow wine for his guest Kelos the merchant, whose house this was, had not accepted the requisitioning altogether willingly and, partly because of this, Elric maliciously made free with all Kelos's best

Sepiriz took the goblet and sipped the strong wine.

«Have you succeeded in contacting the White Lords yet, Sepiriz?» Elric asked.

«We have.»

'Thank the gods. Are they willing to give their aid to us?»

«They have always been so willing-but they have not yet made a sufficient breach in the protection that Chaos has set up around the planet However, the fact that I have at last managed to contact them is a better sign than any we've had these past months.»

«So-the news is good.» Elric said cheerfully.

«Not altogether. Jagreen Lern's fleet has set sail again and they bead towards the eastern continent, with thousands of ships-and supernatural allies, too.»

«It was only what I expected, Sepiriz. My work's done here, anyway, I'll ride for the Isle of the Purple Towns at once, for I must lead the fleet against Jagreen Lern.»

«Your chances of winning will be all but non-existent. Elric.» Sepiriz warned him gravely. «Have you heard of the Shysof Hellr»

«I've heard of them-do they not sail the depths of the sea, taking on board dead mariners as crews?»

«They do-they're things of Chaos and far larger than even the largest mortal warship. You'd never withstand teem, even if you did not have the Theocrat fleet to fight as well.»

'Tm aware the fight will be hard, Sepiriz - but what else can we do? I have a weapon against Chaos in my blade here. «Not enough, not bodkin-you still have no protection against Chaos. That is what I have to tell you about-a personal armament for yourself to help you in your struggle, though you'll have to win it from its present possessor.»

«Who possesses it?»

«A giant who broods in eternal misery in a great castle on the edge of the world, beyond the Signing Desert. His name is Mordaga who was once a god but is now made mortal for sins he committed against his fellow gods long ages ago.»

«Mortal? Yet he has lived so long?»

«Aye. Mordaga is mortal-though his life-span is considerably longer than an ordinary man's. He is obsessed with the knowledge that he must one day die. This is what saddens him.»

«And the weapon?»

«Not a weapon exactly - but a shield. A shield with a purpose-one that Mordaga had made for himself when he raised a rebellion in the domain of the gods and sought to make himself greatest of the gods and even wrest the Eternal Balance from the One Who Holds It. For this he was banished to Earth and informed that he would one day die slain by a mortal blade. The shield, as you might guess, is proof against the workings of Chaos.»

«How does it do this?» Elric asked curiously.

«The chaotic forces, if powerful enough, can disrupt any defence made of lawful matter; no construction based on the principles of order can withstand for long the ravages of beer chaos, as we know.»

«Stormbringer has shown you not the only weapon effective against Chaos is something of Chaos-manufacture. The same can be said for the Chaos Shield. This itself is chaotic in nature and therefore there is nothing organised in it on which the random forces can act and destroy. It meets Chaos with Chaos, and so the hostile powers are subverted.»

«I see. If I had only had such a shield of late, things might have gone better for us all»

«I could not tell you of it. As I have mentioned, I am merely the servant of Fate and cannot act unless it is sanctioned by my masters. Perhaps as I have guessed they are willing to see Chaos sweep the world before it is defeated-if it is ever defeated-so that it can completely change the nature of our planet before the new cycle begins. Change it will-but whether it will be ruled in the future primarily by Law or Chaos-that is in your hands, Elric! »

«I'm becoming used to the burden my friend. How would I recognise this shield?»

«By the eight-arrowed Sign of Chaos which radiates from its boss. It is a heavy, round shield, made as a buckler for a giant. But, with the vitality you receive from that runesword there, you will have the strength to carry it, have no fear. But first you must have the courage to win it from its current holder, Mordaga is aware of the prophecy, told him by his fellow gods before they cast him forth.»

«Are you, too, aware of it?»

«I am. In our language it forms a simple rhyme:

«Four men? Who are the other three?»

«Those you will know of when the time comes for you to seek the Chaos Shield. Which will you do? Go to the Purple Towns-or will you go to find the shield?»

«I wish that I had the time to embark on a quest of that kind, but I have not. I must go to rally my men, shield or no.»

«You will be defeated.»

«We shall see, Sepiriz.»

«Very well, Elric. Since so little of your destiny is in your own hands, we should allow you to take Just one decision at times, » Sepiriz smiled sympathetically.

«Fate is kind, » Elric commented ironically. He rose from his seal «I’ll begin the Journey straightway, for there's no time to lose.»

Two

With his milk-white hair streaming behind him and his red eyes blazing with purpose, Elric lashed his stallion through the cold darkness of the night, through a disturbed land which awaited Jagreen Lern's attack in trepidation, for it could mean not only their deaths, but the drawing of their souls into the servitude of Chaos.

Already the standards of a dozen Western and Southern monarchs fluttered with Jagreen Lern's as the kings of the conquered lands chose his command rather than death-and placed their peoples under his dominance so that they became marching, blank-faced creatures with enslaved souls, their wives and children dead, tormented or feeding the bloodwashed altars of Pan Tang where the priests send up invocations to the Chaos Lords, and, ever-willing to further their power on Earth, the Lords answered with support.

And not only the entities themselves, but the stuff of their own weird cosmos was entering the Earth, so that where their power was, the land heaved like the sea, or the sea flowed like lava, mountains changed shape and trees sprouted ghastly blossoms never seen on Earth before.

Wherever Jagreen Lern conquered, the warping influence of Chaos was manifest. The very spirits of nature were tortured into becoming what they should not be-air, fire, water and earth, all became unstable, for Jagreen Lern and his allies were tampering not only with the lives and souls of men, but the very constituents of the planet itself. And there were none of sufficient power to punish them for these crimes. None.

With this knowledge within him, Elric's progress was swift and wild, as he strove to reach the Isle of the Purple Towns before his pitifully inadequate fleet sailed to do battle with Chaos.

Two days later he arrived in the port of Uhaio, at the tip of the smallest of the three Vilmirian peninsulas, and took ship at once to the Isle of the Purple Towns, where he disembarked and rode into the interior towards the ancient fortress Ma-ha-kil-agra which had withstood every siege ever made against it' and was regarded as the most impregnable construction in the whole of the lands still free from Chaos. Its name was in an older language than any known to those who lived in the current Age of the Young Kingdoms. Only Elric knew what the name signified. The fortress had been there long before the present races came to dominance, even before Elric’s ancestors had begun their conquerings. Ma-ha-kil-agra-me Fort of Evening, where long ago, a lonely race had come to die.

As he arrived in the courtyard, Moonglum, the Eastlander, came rushing from the entrance of a tower.

«Elric! We have been awaiting your arrival, for time grows scarce before we must embark against the enemy. We nave Bent out ship-borne spies to estimate the size and power of Jagreen Lern's fleet. Only four returned and all were uselessly insane. The fifth has Just come back, but -»

«But what?»

«See for yourself. He has been-altered, Elric.»

«Altered! Altered! Let me see him. Take me to him.» Elric nodded surly to the other captains who had come out to greet him. He passed them and followed behind Moonglum through the stone corridors of the fortress, lit badly by spluttering rushes.

Leading Elric to an antechamber, Moonglum stopped outside, running his fingers through his thick, red hair. «He is therein. Would you care to interview him alone? I'd rather not set eyes on him again! »

«Very well, » Elric opened the door, wondering how this spy would be changed. Sitting at the plain wooden table, was the remains of a man. It looked up. As Moonglum had warned him-it had been altered.

Elric felt pity for the man, but he was not nauseated or horrified like Moonglum, for in his sorcery-working he had seen far worse creatures. It was as if the whole of one side of the spy's body had become at one stage viscous, had flowed, and men coiled in a random shape. Side of head, shoulder, arm, torso, leg, all were replaced by streamers of flesh like rat's tails, lumps of matter like swollen boils, weirdly mottled. The spy spread his good band and some of the streamer seemed to jerk and wave in unison.

Elric spoke quietly. «What magic wrought his drastic change?»

A kind of Chuckle came from the lopsided face. «I entered the Realm of Chaos, lord. And Chaos did this, it changed me as you see. The boundaries are being extended. I did not know it. I was inside before I realised what had happened. The area of Chaos is being widened! » He leant forward, his shaking voice almost screaming. «With it sail the massed fleets of Jagreen Lern-great waves of warships, squadrons of invasion craft, thousands of transports, shun mounting great war engines, fire-ships-ships of all kinds, bearing a multitude of standards-the kings of the south left live have sworn loyally to Jagreen Lern and he has used all their resources and his own to marshal this sea-horde! As he sails, he extends the area of Chaos, so whereas his sailing is dower than normal, when he reaches us here-Chaos will be with him. I saw such ships not could be of no earthly contriving-the size of castles-each one seeming to be a dazzling combination of all colours! »

«So he has managed to bring more supernatural allies to his standard, » Elric roused. «Those are the Ships of Hell, Sepiriz mentioned...»

«Aye-and even if we beat the natural craft, » the messenger said, hysterically, «we could not beat born the ships of Chaos and the stuff of Chaos which boils around them and did to me what you observe! It boils, it warps, it changes constantly. That is all I know, save that Jagreen Lern and unhuman allies are unharmed by it as I was harmed. When his change began to take place in my body, I fled to the Dragon Up of Melnibone, which seems to have withstood the process and is the only safe land in all the waters of the world. My body-healed-swiftly, and I chanced another sailing to bring me here.»

«You were courageous, » Elric said hollowly. «You will be well rewarded, I promise.»

«I want only one reward, my lord.»

«What is that?»

«Death. I can no longer live with the horror of my body burrowing the horror in my brains! »

«I will see to it, » Elric promised. He remained brooding for a few seconds before nodding farewell to the spy and leaving the room.

Moonglum met him outside.

«It looks blade for us, Elric.» he said softly.

Elric sighed. «Aye-perhaps I should have gone to seek the Chaos Shield first.»

«What's that?»

Elric explained all Sepiriz had told him.

«We could do with such a defence, » Moonglum agreed. «But there it is - the priority is tomorrow's sailing. Your captains await you in the conference chamber.»

«I will see them in a short while, » Elric promised. «First I wish to go to my own room to collect my thoughts. Tell them I’ll join them when that's done.»

When he reached his room, Elric locked the door behind him, still thinking of the spy's information. He knew that without supernatural aid no ordinary fleet, no matter bow large or how courageously manned, could possibly withstand Jagreen Lern. And the fact was that he had only a comparatively small Beet, no supernatural entities for allies, no means of combatting the disrupting chaotic forces. If only he had the Chaos Shield beside him now... But it was useless to regret a decision of the kind he'd made. If he sought the shield now, he couldn't fight the battle in any case.

For weeks he had consulted the grimoires that, in the form of scrolls, tablets, books and sheets of precious metals engraved with ancient symbols, littered his room. The Elementals had helped him in the past, but, so disrupted were they by Chaos, that they were weak for the most part.

He unstrapped his hell-sword and filing it on the bed of tumbled silks and furs. Wryly he thought back to earlier times when he had given in to despair and how those incidents which had engendered the mood seemed merely gay escapades in comparison to the task which now weighed on his mind. Though weary, he chose not to draw Stormbringer's stolen energy into himself, for the feeling that was so dose to ecstasy was leavened by the guilt-the guilt which had possessed him since a child when he had first realised that the expression on his remote father's face had not been one of love, but of disappointment that he should have spawned a deficient weakling-a pale albino, good for nothing, without the aid of drugs or sorcery.

Elric sighed and went to the window to stare oat over the low hills and beyond them to the sea. He spoke aloud, perhaps subconsciously, hoping that the release of the words would relieve some of the tension within him.

«I do not care for this responsibility, » he said. «When I fought the Dead God he spoke of both gods and men as shadow-things, playing puppet-parts before the true history of Earth began and men found their fate in their own hands. Then Sepiriz tells me I must turn against Chaos and help destroy the whole nature of the world I know or history might never begin again, and Fate's great purpose would be thwarted. Therefore I am the one who must be split and tempered to fulfill my destiny-I must know no peace of mind, must fight men and gods and the stuff of Chaos without surcease, must bring about the death of this age so that, in some far dawn-age, men who know little of sorcery or the Lords of the Higher Worlds, may move about a world where the major forces of Chaos can no longer enter, where justice may actually exist as a reality, and not as a mere concept in the minds of philosophers.»

He rubbed his red eyes with his fingers.

«So fate makes Elric a martyr that Law might rule the world. It gives him a sword of ugly evil that destroys friends and enemies alike and sucks their soul-stuff out to feed him the strength he needs. It binds me to evil and to Chaos, in order that I may destroy evil and Chaos-but it does not make me some senseless dolt easily convinced and a willing sacrifice. No, it makes me Elric of Melnibone and floods me with a mighty misery...»

«My lord speaks aloud to himself-and his thoughts are gloomy. Speak them to me, instead, so that I might help you bear them, Elric.»

Recognising the soft voice, but astonished nonetheless. Ellie turned quickly towards the source and saw his wife, Zarozinia standing there, her arms outstretched and a look of deep sympathy upon her young face.

He took a step towards her before stopping and saying angrily: «When did you come here? Why? I told you to remain in your father's palace at Karlaak until this business is done, if ever.»

«If ever...» She repeated, dropping her arms to her sides with a little shrug. Though scarcely more than a girl, with her full red lips and long black hair, she bore herself as it princess must and seemed more than her age.

«Ask not that question, » he said cynically. «It is not one we ask ourselves here. But answer mine: How did you come here and why?» He knew what her reply would be, but he spoke only to emphasise his anger which in turn was a result of his horror that she should have come so dose to danger, danger which he had already rescued her from once.

«I came with my cousin Opluk’s two thousand, » she said, fitting her head defiantly, «when he joined the defenders of Uhaio. I came to be near my husband at a time when he may need my comforting. The gods know I've had little opportunity to discover if he does! »

Elric paced the room in agitation. «As I love you, Zarozinia, believe that I would be in Karlaak now with you had I any excuse at all. But I have not-you know my role, my destiny, my doom. You bring sorrow with your presence, not help. If this business has a satisfactory end, then we’ll meet again, in joy-not in misery as we now must! » He crossed to her and took her in his arms. «Oh, Zarozinia, we should never have met, never have married. We can only hurt one another at this time. Our happiness was so brief...»

«If you would be hurt by me, then hurt you shall be, » she said softly, «but if you would be comforted, then I am hero to comfort my lord.»

He relented with a sigh. «These are loving words, my dear-but they are not spoken in loving times. I have put love aside for the nonce. Try to do likewise and thus well both dispense with added complication.»

Without anger, she drew slowly away from him and with a slight smile that had something of irony in it, pointed to the bed, where Stormbringer lay.

«I see your other mistress still shares your bed, » she said. «And now you need never try to dismiss her again, for that black Lord of Nihrain has given you an excuse to forever keep her by your side. Destiny-is that the word? Destiny! Ah, the deeds men have done in Destiny's name. And what is destiny, Brie, can you answer?»

He shook his bead. «Since you ask the question in malice, I’ll not make the attempt to answer it.»

She cried suddenly: «Oh, Elric! I - have travelled for many days to see you, thinking you would welcome me. And now we speak in anger! »

«Fear! » he said urgently. «It is fear, not anger. I fear for you as I fear for the fate of the world! See me to my ship in the morning and then make speed back to Karlaak. I beg you»

«If you wish it.»

She walked back into the small chamber which joined the main one.

Three

«We talk only of defeat! » roared Kargan of the Purple Towns, beating upon the table with his fist. His beard seemed to bristle with rage.

Dawn had found all but a few of the captain' retiring through weariness. Kargan' Moonglum, Elric's cousin Dyvim Slonn and moon-faced Dralab of Tarkesh. remained in the chamber, pondering tactics.

Elric answered him calmly: «We talk of defeat, Kargan, because we must be prepared for that eventuality. It seems likely, does it not? We must, if defeat seems imminent, flee our enemies, conserving our force for another attack on Jagreen Lern. We shall not have the forces to fight another major battle, so we must use our better knowledge of currents, winds and terrain to fight him from ambush on sea or land. Thus we can perhaps demoralise his warriors and take considerably more of them than they can of us.»

«Aye-I see the logic, » Kargan rumbled unwillingly, evidently disturbed by this talk for, if the major battle was lost, then lost also would be the Isle of the Purple Towns, bastion against Chaos for the Ilminly nations of Vumir and Ilmiora.

Moonglum shifted his position, granting slightly. «And if they drive us back, men back we must go, beading rather than breaking, and returning from other directions to attack and confuse them. Ifs in my mind that well have to move more rapidly than we'll be able to, since we'd be tired and with few provisions...» He grinned faintly. «Ah, forgive me for my pessimism. Ill-placed, I fear.»

«No, » Brie said. «We must face all this or be caught unawares. You are right. And to allow for ordered retreat, I have already sent detachments to the Signing Desert and the Weeping Waste to bury large quantities of food and such dungs as extra arrows, lances and so forth. If we are forced back as far as the barrens, we'll likely fare better than Jagreen Lern, assuming that it takes him time to extend the area of Chaos and that his allies from the Higher Worlds are not overwhelmingly powerful.»

«You spoke of realism...» said Dyvim Slonn, pursing his curving lips and raising a slanting eyebrow.

«Aye - but some things cannot be faced or considered-for if we are totally engulfed by Chaos at the outset, then well nave no need of plans. So we plan for the other eventuality, you see.»

Kargan let out his breath and rose from the table. There's no more to discuss, » he said. «All to bed. We must be ready to sail with the noon tide tomorrow.»

They all gave signs of assent and chairs scraped as they pushed them back and left the chamber.

Bereft of human occupants, the chamber was silent save for the sputtering of the lamps and the rustle of the maps and, papers as they were stirred by a warm wind.

It was late in the morning when Elric arose and found Zarozinia already up and dressed in a skirt and bodice of doth-of-gold with a long black-trimmed cloak of silver flowing from her shoulders and spreading to the floor.

He washed, shaved and ate the dish of herb-flavoured fruit she handed him.

«Why have you arrayed yourself in such finery?» he asked.

«To bid you goodbye from the harbour, » she said.

«If you spoke truth last night, then you'd best be dressed in funeral red.» he smiled and then, relenting, clasped her to him. He gripped her tightly, desperately, before standing back from her and taking her chin in his hand raised her face to stare down into it «In these tragic times, » he said, «there's little room for love-play and kind words. Love must be deep and strong, manifesting itself in our actions. Seek no courtly words from me, Zarozinia, but remember earlier nights when the only turbulence was our pulse-beats blending.»

He was clad, himself, in Melnibonean war regalia, with a breastplate of shiny black metal, a high-collared jerkin of black velvet, black feather breeks covered to the knee by his boots, also of black leather. Over his back was pushed a cloak of deep red, and on one thin, white finger, was the Ring of Kings, the single rare actorious stone set in silver.

His long white hair hung loose down to his shoulders, kept from his eyes by a bronze circlet in which were set other precious charm stones of peryx, mio and golden otredos. Stormbringer was sheathed at his left hip and an ebony handled poignard dangled at his right. Upon the table, among the open books, a tapering black helm, engraved with old runes, lay, its crown gradually rising into a spike, standing almost two feet from the base. At this base, dominating the eye-slits, was a tiny replica of a spread-winged dragon, with a gaping snout, a reminder that, as when as being Emperors of the Bright Empire, Elric's ancestors were Dragon Masters over all that remained of the dragon kind. Brie, himself, was chief master-though now only his cousin Dyvim Slorm knew the dragon speech and spells, the rest having perished in various ways since the Sack of Imrryr years before when Elric, turned renegade, had led the attack upon the Dreaming City.

Now he picked up the helm and fitted it over his head so that it covered the top half of his face, only his red eyes gleaming from its shadows. He refrained from pulling the side wings about his lower face but for the meantime, left them sweeping back from the bottom of the helmet.

Noting her silence, he said, with a heart already heavy, «Come, my love, let's to the harbour to astound these undercivillised allies of ours with our elegance. Have no fear not I shall live to survive this day's battle-for Fate has not finished with me yet and protects me as a mother would her cub-so that I might witness further misery until such a day when ifs over for all time.»

Together, they left the Fort of Evening, riding on magical Nihrain horses, down to the harbour where the other Sealords and captains were already assembled beneath the bright sun.

All were dressed in their finest martial glory, though none could notch Elric. Old racial memories were awakened in many when they saw him and they were troubled, fearing him without knowing why, for their ancestors had had great cause to fear the Bright Emperors in the days when Melnibone ruled the world and a man accoutred as Elric commanded a Imrryrian eldritch warriors. Now a bare handful of Imrryrians greeted him as he rode along the quayside, noting the ships riding at anchor with their coloured banners and heraldic devices lifting proudly in the breeze.

Dyvim Slonn was equipped in a close-fitting dragon helm, its protecting pieces fashioned to represent the entire bead of a dragon, scaled in red and green and silver. His armour was lacquered yellow, though the rest of his dress was black, like Elric’s. At his side was Stormbringer's sister-sword Mournblade.

As Elric rode up to the group, Dyvim Slonn turned his heavily armoured head towards the open sea. There was little inkling of encroaching Chaos on the calm water or in the dear sky.

«At least well have good weather on our way to meet Jagreen Lern, » Dyvim Slorm said.

«A small mercy.» Elric smiled faintly. «Is there any more news of their numbers?»

«Before the spy who returned yesterday died he said there 'were at least four thousand warships, ten thousand transports-and perhaps twenty of the Chaos ships. They'll be the ones to watch since we've no idea what powers they have.»

Elric nodded. Their own fleet comprised some five thousand warships, many equipped with catapults and other heavy war-engines. The transports, though they turned the odds, in numbers, to a far superior figure, would be slow, unwieldy. and of not much use in a pitched sea-battle. Also, if the battle were won, they could be dealt with later, for they would obviously follow in the rear of Jagreen Lern's warned So, for all Jagreen Lern's numerical strength, there would be a good chance of winning a sea-fight under ordinary conditions. The disturbing factor was the presence of the supernatural ships. The spy's description had been vague. Elric needed more objective information-information he would be unlikely to receive now, until the fleets joined in battle.

In his shirt was tucked the beast-hide manuscript of an extraordinarily strong invocation used in summoning the Sea King. He had already attempted to use it, without success, but hoped that on open sea his chances would be better, particularly since the Sea King would be angered at the disruption Jagreen Lern and his occult allies were causing in the balance of nature. Once before, long ago, the Sea King had aided him and had, Elric recalled, predicted that Elric would ammonium again.

Kargan, in the thick, but light sea-armour of his people which gave him the appearance of it hairy-faced armadillo, pointed as several small boats detached themselves' from the fleet and sailed towards the quay.

«Here come the boats to take us to our ships, my lords! »

The gathered captains stirred, all of them with serious expressions, seeming, each and every one, to be pondering some personal problem, staring into the depths of their own hearts-perhaps trying to reach the fear which lay there; trying to reach it and tear it out and fling it from them. They all had more than the usual trepidation experienced when facing a fight-for, like Brie, they could not guess what the Chaos ships were capable of.

They were a desperate company, understanding that something less palatable than death might await them beyond the horizon.

Eric squeezed Zarozinia's arm.

«Goodbye.»

«Farewell, Brie-may whatever benevolent gods Acre are left on the Earth protect you.»

«Save your prayers for my companions, » he said quietly, «for they will be less able than I to face what lies out there.»

Moonglum called to him and Zarozinia: «Give her a kiss, Eric, and come to the boat. Tell her we’ll be back with victory tidings.»

Elric would never have admitted such familiarity, not even with his kinsman Dyvun Slonn, from anyone but Moonglum. But he took it in good part saying softly to her: «There, you see, little Moonglum is confident-and he’s usually is one with warnings of ominous portent! »

She said nothing, but kissed him lightly on the mouth, grasped his hand for a moment and then watched him as he strode down the quay and clambered into the boat which Moonglum and Rargan were steadying for him.

The oars splashed and bore the captains towards the flagship, Timber-tearer, Elric standing in the bow staring ahead, looking back only once when the boat drew alongside the ship and he began to climb the rope ladder up to the deck, his black helm bobbing,

Bracing himself on the deck, Brie watched the backs of the warrior-rowers as they bent to the oars, supplementing the light wind which filled the great purple sail, making it curve out in a graceful billow.

The Isle of the Purple Towns was now out of sight and green, glinting water was all that was visible around the fleet, which stretched behind the flagship, its furthest ships tiny shapes in the distance.

Already the fleet was re-forming into the five squadrons which would comprise its final battle-order. Each squadron was under the command of an experienced Sealord, from the Purple Towns, for most of the other captains were landsmen who, though quick to learn, had little experience of sea tactics.

Moonglum came stumbling along the swaying deck to stand beside his friend.

«How did you sleep last night?» he asked Elric.

«Well enough, save for a few nightmares.»

«Ah, then you shared something with us all. Sleep was hard won for everyone, and when it came it was troubled. Visions of monsters and demons crowded my dreams.»

Elric nodded slightly, but paying little attention to Moonglum. The elements of chaos in their own beings were evidently awakening in response to the approach of the Chaos horde itself. He hoped they would be strong enough to withstand the actuality as they had survived their dreams.

«Disturbance to forward! »

It was the look-out's cry, baffled and perturbed. Elric cupped his hands around his mouth and tilted his head back.

«What sort of disturbance?»

«It's like nothing I've ever seen, my lord-I can't describe it»

Elric turned to Moonglum. «Relay the order through the fleet-slow the pace to one drum-beat in four, squadron commanders stand by to receive final battle orders.» He strode towards the mast and began to climb up it towards the lookout's post. He climbed until he was high above the deck. The took-out swung out of his cradle, since there was room only for one.

«It's it the enemy, my lord?» he said, as Elric clambered into his place. Elric stared hard towards the horizon, making out a kind of dazzling blackness that from time to time sent up sprawling gouts of stuff into the air where it hung for some moments, before sinking back into the main mass.

Smokey, hard to define, it crept gradually nearer, crawling over the sea towards them.

«It's the enemy, » said Elric quietly.

He remained for some while in the look-out's cradle, studying the chaos-stuff as it filing itself about in the distance like some amorphous monster in its death-agonies. But these were not death-agonies-not for Chaos at any rate.

From this vantage point, Elric also had a dear view of the fleet as it formed itself into its respective squadrons, making up a black wedge nearly a mile across at its longest point and nearly two miles deep. His own ship was a short distance in front of the rest, well in sight of the squadron commanders. Brie shouted down to Kargan, whom he saw passing the mast: «Stand by to move ahead, Kargan! »

The Sealord nodded without pausing in his stride. He was folly aware of the battle-plan, as they all were for they had discussed it long enough. The leading squadron, under the command of Elric, was comprised of their heaviest warships which would smash into the centre of the enemy fleet and seek to break its order, aiming particularly at the ship of Jagreen Lern. If Jagreen Lern could be slain or captured, their victory would be more likely.

Now the dark stuff was closer and Elric could just make out the sails of the first vessels, spread out one behind the other. Then, as they came even closer, he was aware not to each side of this leading formation were great glinting shapes that dwarfed even the huge battlecraft of Jagreen Lern.

«The Chaos Ships.»

Elric recognised them, now, from his own knowledge of occult lore.

These were the ships said normally to sail the deeps of the oceans, taking on drowned sailors as crews, captained by creatures that had never been human. It was a fleet from the deepest, gloomiest parts of the vast underwater domain which had, since the beginning of time, been disputed territory-disputed between water-elementals under their king Straasha and the Lords of Chaos, who claimed the sea-depths as their main territory on Earth by right Legends said that at one tithe Chaos had ruled the sea and Law the land. This, perhaps, explained the fear of the sea that many human beings had, and the pull the sea had for others.

But the fact was that, although the elementals had succeeded. In winning the shallower portions of the sea, the Chaos Lords had retained the deeper parts by means of this, their fleet of the dead. The ships themselves were not of earthly manufacture, neither were their captains originally from earth, but their crews had once been human, and were now indestructible in any ordinary sense.

As they approached, Elric was soon in no doubt that they were, indeed, those ships.

The Sign of Chaos flashed on their sails, eight amber arrows radiating from a central hub-signifying the boast of Chaos, that it contained all possibilities whereas Law was supposed, in time, to destroy possibility and result in eternal stagnation. The sign of Law was a single arrow pointing upwards, symbolising direction and control.

Elric knew that in reality. Chaos was the real harbinger of stagnation, for though it changed constantly, it never progressed. But, in his heart, he felt a yearning for this state, for he had many loyalties to the Lords of Chaos in the past and his own folk of Melnibone had worked, since their inception, to further the aims of Chaos.

But now Chaos must make war on Chaos; Elric must turn against those he had once been loyal to, using weapons forged by chaotic forces to defeat those selfsame forces in this time of change.

He clambered from the cradle and began to ship down the mast, leaping the last few feet to land on the deck as Dyvim Slorm came up. Quickly he told his kinsman what he had seen.

Dyvim Slorm was astounded. «But the fleet of the dead never comes to the surface-save for...» his eyes widened.

Elric shrugged. «That's the legend-the fleet of the dead will rise from the depths when the final struggle comes, when Chaos shall be divided against itself, when Law shall be weak and mankind shall choose sides in the battle that will result in a new Earth dominated either by total Chaos or by almost-total Law. When Sepiriz told us this was the case, I felt a response. Since then, in studying my manuscripts, I have been fully reminded.»

«Is this, then, the final battler'

«It might be, » he said. «It is certain to be one of the last when it will be decided for all time whether Law or Chaos shall rule here.»

«If we're defeated, then Chaos will undoubtedly rule.»

«Perhaps-but remember that the struggle need not be decided by battles alone.»

«So Sepiriz said, but if we're defeated this day, well have little chance to discover the truth of that.» Dyvim Slorm gripped Mournblade's hilt. «Someone must wield these blades-these destiny swords-when the time conies for the deciding duel. Our allies dimmish, Elric.»

«Aye. But I've a hope that we can summon a few others. Straasha, King of the Water Elementals, has ever fought against the death fleet-and he is brother to Graoll and Misha, the Wind Lords. Perhaps through Straasha, I can summon his unearthly kin. In this way we will be better notched, at least»

«I know only a fragment of the spell for summoning the Water King, » Dyvim Slorm said. «I know the whole rune. I had best make haste to meditate upon it, for our fleets will clash in two hours or less and then I'll have no time for the summoning of spirits but will have to keep tight hold on my own less sothe Chaos creature releases it»

Elric moved towards the prow of the ship, and, leaning over, stared into the ocean depths, turning his mind inward and contemplating the strange and ancient knowledge which lay there. He became almost hypnotised as he lost contact with his own personality and began to identify with the swirling ocean below.

Involuntarily, old words began to form in his throat and his lips began to move in the rune which his ancestors had known when they and all the elementals of the Earth had been allies and sworn to aid one another long ago in the dawn of the Bright Empire, more than ten thousand years before.

The spoken rune was merely a vocalisation of the actual invocation which was produced mentally and went plunging into the depths, through the dark green corridors of the sea until it finally found Straasha in his domain of curving, coral-coloured, womb-like constructions which were only partially in the natural sea and partially in the plane where the dementals spent a large part of their immortal existence. Straasha knew of the Ships of Hell rising to the surface and had been pleased that his domain was now cleared of them, but Elric’s summons awakened his memory and he remembered the folk of Melnibone upon whom all the elementals had once looked with a sense of comradeship; he remembered the ancient invocation, and felt bound to answer it, though he knew his people were badly, weakened by the effect Chaos had had in other parts of the world. Not only humans had suffered; the elemental spirits of nature had been sorely pressed as well.

But he stirred so that water and the stuff of his other plane were both disturbed. He summoned some of his followers and began to glide upwards into the domain of the Air.

Semi-conscious now, Elric knew that his invocation had bet with success. Sprawled in the prow, he waited.

At last the waters heaved and broke and a great green figure, with turquoise beard and hair, pale green skin that seemed made of the sea itself, and a voice that was like a rushing tide.

«Once more Straasha answers thy summons, mortal. Our destinies are bound together. How may I aid thee, and, in aiding thee, aid myself?»

«In the throat-torturing speech of the elemental, Elric answered, telling the sea king of the forthcoming battle and what it implied.

«So at long last it has come to pass! I fear I cannot aid you Elric, for my folk are already suffering terribly from the deprecations of our mutual enemy. We shall attempt to aid you if we can. That's all I promise.»

The sea king sank back into the waters and Elric watched him depart with a feeling of acute disappointment. It was with a brooding mind that he left the prow and went to the main cabin to tell his captains the news.

They received it with mixed feelings, for only Dyvim Slonn was used to dealing with supernaturals. Moonglum had always been dubious of Elric's powers to control his wild, elemental friends, while Kargan growled that Straasha may have been an ally of Elric's folk but had been more of an enemy to his. The four of them, however, could plan with slightly more optimism and face the coming ordeal with better confidence.

Four

The fleet of Jagreen Lern bore towards them and' in its wake, the boiling stuff of Chaos hovered.

Elric gave the command and the rowers hauled at their curs, sending Timber-tearer rushing towards the enemy. So far his elemental allies had not appeared, but he could not afford to wait for them.

As Timber-tearer rode the foaming waves, Elric hauled his sword from its scabbard, brought the side wings of his helmet round to cover his face and cried the age-old ululating warshout of Melnibone, a shout full of joyous evil. Stormbringer's eerie voice joined with his, giving vent to a thrumming song, anticipating the blood and the souls it would soon feast upon.

Jagreen Lern’s flagship now lay behind three rows of man-o-war and behind that the ships of death.

Timber-tearer's iron ram ripped into the first enemy ship and the rowers leaned on their oars, backing away and turning to pierce another ship below the water line. Showers of arrows sprayed from the holed ship and clattered on deck and armour. Several rowers went down.

Elric and his three companions directed their men from the main deck and suddenly they saw the streaking balls of green fire come curving out of the sky.

«Prepare to quench fires! » Kargan yelled and the group of men already primed for this leapt for the tubs containing a special brew, which Elric had told them how to make earlier. This was spread on decks and splashed on canvas and, when the fire-balls landed, they were swiftly put out by the stuff.

«Don't engage unless forced to, » Elric called to the seamen, «keep aiming for the flagship. If we take that our advantage will be good! »

«Where are your allies, Elric?» Kargan asked sardonically, shuddering a little as he saw the Chaos stuff in the distance suddenly move and erupt tendrils of black matter into the sky.

«They'll come, never fear, » Elric answered, but he was unsure.

Now they were in the thick of the enemy fleet, the ships of their squadron followed behind. The war-engines of their own fleet sent up a constant barrage of fire and heavy stones.

Only a handful of Bine's craft broke through the enemy's first rank and reached the open sea, sailing towards Jagreen Lern»s flagship.

As they were observed, the enemy ships sailed to protect the flagship and the scintillating ships of death, moving with fantastic speed for their size, surrounded the Theocrat's vessel.

Shouting over the waters, Kargan ordered their diminished squadron into a new formation.

Moonglum shook his head in astonishment «How can things of that size support themselves on the water?» he said to Elric.

Elric said: «It's unlikely that they actually do.» As then ship manoeuvred into its new position, he stared at the huge craft, twenty of them, dwarfing everything else on the sea. They seemed covered with a kind of scintillating wetness which flashed all the colours of the spectrum so that their outlines were hard to see and the shadowy figures moving about on their gigantic decks could not easily be observed. Whisps of dark stuff began to drift across the scene, close to the water, and Dyvim Slonn, from the lower deck, pointed and shouted:

«See! Chaos comes. Where is Straasha and his folk?»

Elric shook his head, perturbed. He had expected aid by now.

«We cannot wait. We must attack! » Kargan's voice was pitched higher than usual.

A mood of bitter recklessness came upon Elric then he smiled. «Come then. Let's do so! »

Speedily the squadron coursed towards like disturbing ships of death.

Moonglum muttered: «We are going to our doom, Elric. No man would willingly get close to those ships. Only the dead are drawn to them, and they do not go with joy! »

But Elric ignored his friend.

A strange silence seemed to come upon the waters so that the sound of the splashing oars was sharp. The death fleet waited for them, impassively, as if they did not need to prepare for battle.

He tightened his grip on Stormbringer. The blade seemed to respond to the pounding of his pulse-beat, moving in his hand with each thud of his heart as if linked to it by veins and arteries.

Now they were so close to the Chaos ships that they could make out better the figures crowding the great decks. Horribly, Elric thought he recognised some of the gaunt faces of the dead and, involuntarily, he called to the sea-folk's king.

«Straasha! »

The waters heaved, foamed and seemed to be attempting to rise but then subsided again. Straasha heard-but he was finding it difficult to fight against the forces of Chaos.

«Straasha.»

It was no good, the waters hardly moved.

A mood of wild despair came over Elric. He screamed to Kargan: «We cannot wait for aid. Swing the ship round the Chaos fleet and we'll attempt to reach Jagreen Lern's flagship from the rear.»

Under Kargan's expert direction, the ship swung to avoid the Ships of Hell in a wide semi-circle. Spray cascaded against Elric's face, flooding the decks. He could hardly see through it as they cleared the Chaos ships which had now engaged other craft and were altering the nature of their timbers so that they fell apart and the unfortunate crews were drowned or warped into alien shapes.

To his ears came the miserable cries of the defeated and the triumphantly surging thunder of the Chaos Fleet's music as it pushed forward to destroy the eastern ships.

Timber-tearer was rocking badly and was hard to control, but at last they were around the hell fleet and bearing down on Jagreen Lern's vessel from the rear.

Elric, having but recently been a prisoner upon it, recognized it at once. Now they nearly struck the Theocrat's vessel with their ram, but were swept off-course and had to manoeuvre again. Arrows rose from the enemy's decks and thudded and rattled on their own. They retaliated as, riding a huge wave, they slid alongside the flagship and flung out grappling irons. A few held, dragging them towards the Theocrat's vessel as the men of Pan Tang strove to cut the grappling ropes. More ropes followed and then a boarding platform fell from its harness and landed squarely on Jagreen Lern's deck. Another followed it.

Elric ran for the nearest platform. Kargan behind him, and they led a body of warriors over it, searching for Jagreen Lern.

Stormbringer took a dozen lives and a dozen souls before Elric had gained the main-deck. There a resplendent commander stood, surrounded by a group of officers. But it was not Jagreen Lern. Elric clambered up the gangway, slicing through a warrior's waist as the man sought to block his path. He yelled at the group: «Where's your cursed leader? Where's Jagreen Lern?»

The commander's face was pale for he had seen in the past what Elric and his hell-blade could do.

«He's not here, Elric, I swear.»

«What? Am I to be thwarted again? I know you are lying! » Elric advanced on the group who backed away, their swords ready.

«Our theocrat does not need to protect himself by means of lies, doom-fostered one! » sneered a young officer, braver than the rest.

«Perhaps not, » cried Elric with a wild laugh as he rushed towards him swinging Stormbringer in a shrieking arc, «but at least I’ll have your life before I put the truth of your words to the test. My sword and I need revitalising-and your soul should make an appetiser before I take Jagreen Lern's! »

The man put up his blade to block Stormbringer's swing. The runesword cut through the metal with a triumphant cry, swung back again and plunged itself into the officer's side. He gasped, but remained standing with his hands clenched.

«No! » he groaned. «Oh, not my soul! No! » His eyes widened, tears streamed from them and madness came into them for a second before Stormbringer satiated itself and Elric drew it out, replenished. He had no sympathy for the man. «Your soul would have gone to the depths of hell in any case, » he said lightly. «But now I've put it to some use at least»

Two other officers scrambled over the rail, seeking to escape their comrade's fate.

Elric hacked at the hand of one so that he fell, screaming, to the deck, his hand still grasping the rail. The other he skewered in the bowels and, as Stormbringer sucked out his soul, he hung there, pleading incoherently, in an effort to avert the inevitable.

So much vitality flowed into Elric now, that as he rushed at the remaining group around the commander, he seemed almost to fly over the deck and rip into them, slicing away Umbs as if they were stalks of Sowers, until he encountered the commander himself.

The commander said softly, weakly: «I surrender. Do not take my soul»

«Where is Jagreen Lern?»

The commander pointed into the distance, where the Chaos fleet could be seen creating havoc amongst the eastern ships. «There! He sails with Lord Pyaray of Chaos whose fleet that is. You cannot reach him there for any man not protected or not already dead-would turn to flowing, liquid flesh once he neared the fleet»

«That cursed hellspawn still cheats me, » Elric spat «Here's payment for your information-»

Without mercy for one of those who had wasted and eat slaved two continents, Elric struck his blade through the ornate armour and, delicately, with all the old malevolence of his sorcerer ancestors, tickled the man's heart before finishing him.

He looked around for Kargan, but could not see him. Then he saw that the Chaos fleet had turned back! At first he « thought it was because Straasha had at last brought aid, but then he saw that the remnants of his fleet were fleeing.

Jagreen Lern was victorious. Their plans, their formations their courage-none of these had been capable of withstanding the horrible warpings of Chaos.

And now the dreadful fleet was bearing down on the two flagships, locked together by their grapples. There was no chance of cutting one of them free before the fleet arrived.

Elric yelled to Dyviro Slorm and Moonglum whom he saw naming towards him from the other end of the deck.

«Over the side! Over the side for your lives-and swim as far as you can away from here, the Chaos fleet comes! »

They looked at him, startled, teen realised the truth of his words. Other men of both sides were already leaping into the Moody water. Elric sheated his sword and dived. The left was cold, for all the warm blood in it, and he gasped as he swam in the direction of Moonglum’s red head, which he could see ahead, and, dose to it, Dyvim Slorm's honey coloured hair.

He turned once and saw the very timbers of the two ships begin to melt, to twist and curl in strange patterns as the Ships of Hell arrived. He felt very relieved he had not been aboard.

He reached his two friends.

«A short-term measure this, » said Moonglum, spitting water from his mouth. «What now, Elric? Shall we strike for the Purple Towns?» Moonglum's capacity for facetiousness had not, it seemed, been limited by witnessing the defeat of their fleet and the advance of Chaos. The Isle was too far away.

Then, to their left they saw the water froth and form itself into what was to Elric a familiar shape.

«Straashal»

I could not aid thee, I could not aid thee. Though I tried, my ancient enemy was too strong for me. Forgive me. In recompense let me take you and your friends back with me to my own land and save you, at least from Chaos.

«But we cannot breathe beneath the sea! »

«You will not need to.»

«Very well.»

Trusting to the elemental's words, they allowed themselves to be dragged beneath the waters and down into the cool, green depths of the sea, deeper and deeper until no sunlight filtered there and all was wet darkness and they lived, though at normal times the pressure would have crushed them.

They seemed to travel for miles through the mysterious underwater grottoes until at last they came to a place of coral coloured rounded constructions that seemed to drift Slowly in a sluggish current Brie knew it by a description in one of his grimoires. The domain of Straasha the Sea King.

The elemental bore them to the largest construction and one section of it seemed to fade away to admit teem. They moved now through twisting corridors of a delicate pink texture, slightly shadowed, no longer in water. They were now on the plane of the elemental folk. In a huge circular cave, they came to rest.

With a peculiar rushing sound, the Sea King walked to a large throne of milky jade and sat upon it, his green head on his green fist.

«Elric, once again I regret I was unable, after all, to aid you. All I can do now is have some of my folk carry you back to your own land when you have rested here for a while. We are all, it seems, helpless against this new strength which Chaos has of late.»

Elric nodded. «Nothing can stand against its warping influence-unless it is the Chaos Shield.» Straasha straightened his back. «The Chaos Shield. Ah, yes. It belongs to an exiled god, does it not? But his castle is virtually impregnable.»

«Why is that?»

«It lies upon the topmost crag of a tall and lonely mountain, reached by one hundred and thirty-nine steps. Lining these steps are forty-nine ancient elder trees, and of these you would have to be specially wary. Also he has a guard of one hundred and forty-four warriors.»

«Of the warriors I would certainly be wary. But why the elders?»

«Each elder contains the soul of one of Mordaga's followers who was punished thus. They are malevolent trees-ever ready to take the life of anyone that comes into their domain.»

«A hard task, to get that shield for myself, » Elric mused. «But get it I must, for without it Fate's purpose would be forever thwarted-and with it I might have vengeance on the one who commands the Chaos Fleet-and Jagreen Lern who sails with him.»

«Slay Pyaray, Lord of the Fleet of Hell, and, lacking his direction, the fleet itself would perish. His life-force is contained in a blue crystal set in the top of his head and striking at that with a special weapon is the only means of killing him.»

«Thanks for that information, » Elric said gratefully. «For when the time comes, I shall need it.»

«What do you plan to do, Elric?» Dyvim Slonn asked.

«Put all else aside for the moment and see the sad giant's shield. I must-for if I do not have it, every battle fought will be a repetition of the one we have just lost»

«I will come with you, Elric, » Moonglum promised.

«I also, » said Dyvim Storm.

«We shall require a fourth if we are to carry out the prophecy, » Elric said. «I wonder what became of Kargan.»

Moonglum looked at the ground. «Did you not notice?»

«Notice what?»

«On board Jagreen Lern’s flagship when you were hewing about you in an effort to reach the main deck. Did you not know, then, what you had done-or rather what your cursed sword did?»

Elric felt suddenly exhausted. «No. Did -did it-kill him?»

«Aye.»

«Gods! » He wheeled and paced the chamber, slapping his fist in his palm. «Still this hell-made blade exacts its tribute for the service it gives me. Still it drinks the souls of friends. Tis a wonder you two arc still with me! »

«I agree it's extraordinary, » Moonglum said feelingly.

«I grieve for Kargan. He was a good friend.»

«Elric.» Moonglum said urgently. «You know that Kargan's death was not your responsibility. It was fated.»

«Aye, but why must I always be the executioner of fate? I hesitate to list the names of the good friends and useful allies whose souls my sword has stolen. I hate it enough that it must suck souls out to give me my vitality-but that it should be most partial to my friends, that is what I cannot bear. I've half a mind to venture into the heart of Chaos and mere sacrifice us both! The guilt is indirectly mine, for if I was not so weak I must bear such a blade, many of those who have befriended the might he alive now.»

«Yet the blade's major purpose seems a noble one, » Moonglum said in a baffled voice. «Oh, I fail to understand an this-paradox, paradox upon paradox. Are the gods mad or are they so subtle we cannot fathom the workings of their minds?»

«It's hard enough at times like these to remember any greater purpose, » Dyvim Slorm agreed. «We are pressed so sorely, that we haven't a moment for thought, but must fight the next battle and the next, forgetting often why it is we fight.»

«Is the purpose, indeed, greater and not lesser, » Elric smiled bitterly. «If we are the toys of the gods-are not perhaps the gods themselves mere children?»

«These questions are of no present importance, » said Straasha from his throne.

«And at least, » Moonglum told Elric. «Future generations will thank Stormbringer if so she fulfills her destiny.»

«If Sepiriz is right.» Elric said. «Future generations will know nothing of any of us-blades or men! »

«Perhaps not consciously-but in the depths of their souls they will remember us. Our deeds will be spoken of as belonging to heroes with other names, that is all.»

«That the world forgets me is all I ask, » Elric sighed.

As if growing impatient with this fruitless discussion, the Sea King rose from his throne and said: «Come, I will make certain that you are transported to land, if you have no objection to travelling back in the same manner as you came here.»

«None, » said Elric.

Five

They staggered wearily on to the beach of the Isle of the Purple Towns and Elric turned back to address the Sea King, who remained in the shallows.

«Again I thank you for saving us, Lord of the Sea.» he said respectfully. «And thanks also for telling me more of the sad giant's shield. By this action you have perhaps, given us the opportunity to make certain that Chaos will be swept away from the ocean-and the land, also.»

«Aahh», the Sea King nodded, «yet even if you are successful and the seats unspoiled, it will mean the passing of us both, will it not?»

«True.»

«Then let it be so, for I at least am weary of my long existence. But come-now I must return to my folk and hope to withstand Chaos for -a little longer. Farewell! »

And the Sea King sank into the waves again and vanished.

When they eventually reached the Fortress of Evening, heralds ran out to assist them.

«How went the battle? Where is the fleet?» one asked Moonglum.

«Have the survivors not yet returned?»

«Survivors? Then...?»

«We were defeated.» Elric said hollowly. «Is my wife still here?»

«No, she left soon after the fleet sailed, riding for Karlaak.»

«Good. At least we shall have time to erect new defences against Chaos before they reach that far. Now, we must have food and wine. We must devise a fresh plan of battle.»

«Battle, my lord? With what shall we fight?»

«We shall see, » Elric said, «we shall see.»

Later, they watched as the battered remnants of the fleet began to sail into the harbour. Moonglum counted despairingly.

«Too few.» he said. «This is a black day.» From behind them in the courtyard a trumpet sounded.

«An arrival from the mainland, » Dyvim Storm said.

They strode together down to the courtyard, in time to see a scarlet-clad archer dismounting from his horse. His near fleshless face might have been carved from bone. He stooped with weariness.

Elric was surprised. «Rackhir! You command the Ilmioran coast Why are you here?»

«We were driven back. The Theocrat launched not one fleet but two. The other came in from the Pale Sea and took us by surprise. Our defences were crushed. Chaos swept in and we were forced to flee. The enemy has established itself less than a hundred miles from Bakshaan and marches across country-if march is the word, rather it flows. Presumably it expects to meet up with the army the Theocrat intends to land here.»

«Aaahh, we are surely defeated...» Moonglum's voice was little more than a sigh.

«We must have that shield, Elric, » Dyvim Slorm said. Elric frowned, his heart sinking. «Any further steps we take against Chaos will be doomed unless we have its protection. You, Rackhir, will be the fourth man in the prophecy.» «What prophecy?»

«I’ll explain later. Are you fit enough to ride back with us now?»

«Give me two hours to sleep and then I will be.»

«Good. Two hours. Make your preparations, my friends, for we go to claim the sad giant's shield! »

It was not until three days' later that they met the first survivors, many of them with bodies twisted by Chaos, straggling along a white road that lead towards Jadmar, a city still free.

Of them, they learned that half Ilmiora, parts of Vilmir and the tiny independent kingdom of Org, had all fallen. Chaos was closing in, its shadow spreading more and more swiftly as its conquests increased.

It was with relief that Elric and his companions finally reached Karlaak to find it so far not under attack. But reports placed the armies of Chaos less than two hundred miles away and marching in that direction.

Zarozinia greeted Elric with trouble-tinged joy. «There were rumours you were dead-killed to the sea battle.»

Elric clasped her to him.

«I cannot stay long, » he said, «I have a mission beyond the Signing Desert.»

«I know.»

«You know? How?»

«Sepiriz was here. He left a gift in our stables for yon. Four Nihrain horses.»

«A useful gift. They may carry us far more swiftly than any other beasts. But will that be swift enough? I hesitate to leave you here with Chaos encroaching at such a rate.»

«You must leave me, Elric. If all seems lost here, we shall flee into the Weeping Waste. Even Jagreen Lern can have scant interest in the barrens.»

«Promise me that you will.»

«I promise.»

Feeling a little more relieved. Elric took her by the hand. «I spent the most restful period of my life in this palace, » he said. «Let me spend this last night with you and perhaps we shall find a little of the old peace we once had-before I ride on to the sad giant's lair.»

So they made love, but when they slept, their dreams were so full of dark portent that each wakened the other with their groans so that they lay side by side, clinging to one another until the dawn, when Elric rose, kissed her lightly, clasped her hand and then went to the stables where he found his friends waiting-around a fourth figure. It was Sepiriz.

«Sepiriz, thanks for your gift. They will probably make the difference between our being too late or not, » Elric said sincerely. «But why are you here now?»

«Because I can perform another small service before your main journey begins, » said the black seer. «All of you save Moonglum have weapons endowed with some special power. Elric and Dyvim Slonn have their runeblades, Rackhir, the Arrows of Law, which the sorcerer Lamsar gave him at the time of the Siege of Tanelorn - but Moonglum’s weapon has nothing save the skill of its bearer.»

«I think I prefer it thus, » retorted Moonglum. «I've seen what a charmed blade can take from a man.»

«I can give you nothing so strong-nor so evil - as Stormbringer, » Sepiriz said. «But I have a charm for your sword, a slight one that my contact with the White Lords has enabled me to use. Give me your sword, Moonglum.» A trifle unwillingly, Moonglum unsheathed his curved steel made and banded it to the Nihrain who took a small engraving tool from his robe and, whispering a rune, scratched several symbols on the sword near its hilt then he gave it back to the Eastlander.

«There. Now the sword has the blessing of Law and you will find it more able to withstand Law's enemies.»

Elric said impatiently. «We must ride now, Sepiriz, for time grows desperately short.»

«Ride, men. But be wary for patrolling bands of Jagreen Lern's warriors. I do not think they will be anywhere along your route when you journey there-but watch for them coming back.»

They mounted the magical Nihrain steeds which had it, helped Elric more than once, and rode away from Karlaak by the Weeping Waste. Rode away perhaps for ever.

In a short while they had entered the Weeping Waste, for thus was the quickest route to the Signing Desert. Rackhir alone knew this country well, and he guided them. The Nihrain steeds, treading the ground of their own strange plane, seemed literally to fly for it could be observed that their hooves did not touch the damp grasses of the Weeping Waste. They moved at incredible speed and Rackir, until he became used to the pace, gripped his reins tightly.

In this place of eternal rainfall, the land ahead was difficult to see, and the drizzle spread down their faces and into their eyes as they peered through it, trying to make out the high mountain range, which ran along the edge of the Weeping Waste, separating it from the Signing Desert. Then at last, after a journey of a day, they could observe the high crags with their tops lost in cloud and soon, thanks to the marvellous speed of the Nihrain stallions, they were riding through the deep gorges and the rain ceased until, on the evening of the second day, the breeze became warm and finally harsh and hot as they left the mountains and felt the famous rays of the sun blazing down on them, knowing they had come to the edge of the Signing Desert. This wind coughed constantly over the barren sand and rocks, its continuous Signing giving the desert its name.

They protected their faces, particularly their eyes, with their hoods as best they could, for the stinging sand was ever present.

Resting only for a few hours at a time, Rackhir directing them, they allowed the horses to carry them at ten times the speed of ordinary steeds, further and further into the depths of the vast desert.

They spoke little, for it was difficult to be heard over the Signing wind, and each man became sunk into himself, dwelling on personal thoughts.

Brie had long since fallen into what was virtually a mindless trance, letting the horse carry him over the desert He had fought against his own churning thoughts and emotions, finding it hard, as he often did, to retain any objective impression of his predicament. His past had been too troubled, his background too morbid for him to do much now to see clearly.

Always he had been a slave to his melancholic emotions, his physical failings and to the very blood flowing in his veins. He saw life not as a consistent pattern, but as a series of random events. He had fought all his life to assemble his thoughts and, if necessary, accept the chaotic nature of minds, learn to live with it but, except in moments of extreme personal crisis, had rarely managed to think coherently for any length of time. He was, perhaps, because of his outlawed life, his albinoism, his very reliance on his runesword for strength, obsessed with the knowledge of his own doom.

What was thought, he asked himself, what was emotion? What was control and was it worth achieving? Better, maybe, to live by instinct than to theorise and be wrong; better to remain the puppet of the gods, letting them move you this way and that at their pleasure than to seek control of your own fate, dash with the will of the Lords of the Higher Worlds and perish for your pains.

So he considered as he rode into the searing lash of the wind, already striving against natural hazard. And what was the difference between an earthly hazard and the hazard of uncontrolled thought and emotion? Both held something of the same qualities.

But his race, though they had ruled the world for ten thousand years, had lived under the dominance of a different star. They had been neither true men nor true members of the ancient races who had come before men. They were an intermediary type and Elric was half-consciously aware of this; aware that he was the last of an inbred line who had, without effort, used Chaos-given sorcery as others used their earthly dolls-for convenience. His race had been of Chaos, having no need of self-control or the self-restrictions of the new races who had emerged with the Age of the Young Kingdoms, and even these, according to the seer Sepiriz, were not the true men who would one day walk an Earth where order - and progress might become the rule and Chaos rarely exert Influence-if Brie triumphed, destroying the world he knew. This thought added to his gloom, for he had no destiny but death, no purpose save what fate willed. Why fight against if, why bother to sharpen his wits or put his mind in order when this was little more than a sacrifice on the altar of destiny? He breathed deeply of the hot dry air and expelled it from his stinging lungs, spitting out the clogging sand which had managed to enter his mouth and nostrils.

Dyvim Slonn shared something of Elric's mood, though his feelings were not so strong. He had a more ordered life than had Elric, though they were of the same blood. Whereas Elric had questioned the custom of his folk, even renounced king affair that he might explore the new lands of the Young Kingdoms and compare their way of life with his own, Dyvim Slorm had never indulged in such questioning. He had suffered bitterness when through Elric's renegade activities, the Dreaming City of Imrryr, last stronghold of the old race of Melnibone, had been razed; shock, too, of a kind, when he saw what remained of the Imrryrians had been forced out late the world, also, to make their living as mercenaries of most they considered upstart kings of lowly and contemptible peoples. Dyvim Slorm, who had never questioned, did not question now, though he was disturbed.

Moonglum was less self-absorbed. Since the time, many -years before, when he and Elric had met and fought against the Dharzi together, he had felt a peculiar sympathy, even empathy, with his friend. When Elric sank into such moods as the one he was in now, Moonglum felt tormented only because he could not help him. Many times he had sought the means of pulling Elric out of his gloomy depression, but these days he had learned that it was impossible. By nature cheerful and optimistic, even he felt dominated by the doom which was on them.

Rackhir, too, who was of a calmer and more philosophical frame of mind than his fellows, did not feel capable of fully grasping the implications of their mission. He had thought to spend the rest of his days in contemplation and meditation in the peaceful city of Tanelorn, which exerted a strange calming influence on all who lived there. But this call to aid in the fight against Chaos had been impossible to ignore and he had unwillingly strapped on his quiver of Arrows of Law and taken up his bow again to ride from Tanelorn with a small party of those who wished to accompany him and offer their services to Elric.

Peering through the sand-filled air he saw something looming ahead-a single mountain rising from the wastes of the desert, as if placed there by means other than natural.

He called, pointing: «Elric! There! That must be Mordaga's castle! »

Elric roused himself and let his eyes follow Rackhir's pointing hand. «Aye, » he sighed. «We are there. Let us pause now and rest, recuperating our strength before we ride the final distance.»

They reined in their steeds and dismounted, easing their aching limbs and stretching their legs to allow the blood to flow freely again.

They raised their tent against the wind-blown sand and ate their meal in a mood of companionship, created by the knowledge that after they reached the mountain, they might never see one another alive again.

Six

The steps wound up around the mountain. High above they could see the gleam of masonry and, just where the steps curved and disappeared for the first time, they saw an elder tree. It looked like an ordinary tree, but it became a symbol for them-there was their initial antagonist. How would it fight? What influence would it exert on them?

Elric placed a booted foot on the first step. It was high, built for the feet of a giant.

He began to climb, the other three following behind him.

Now, as he reached the tenth step, he unsheathed Stormbringer, felt it quiver and send energy into him. The climbing instantly became easier.

As he came close to the elder, he heard it rustle, saw that there was an agitation in its branches. Yes, it was certainly sentient.

He was only a few steps from the tree when he heard Dyvim Slorm shout: «Gods! The leaves-look at the leaves! »

The green leaves, their veins seeming to throb in the sunlight, were beginning to detach themselves from the branches and drift purposefully towards the group.

One settled on Elric's bare hand. He attempted to brush it off, but it clung. Others began to settle on different parts of his body. They were coming in a green wave now, and he felt a peculiar stinging sensation in his hand. With a curse he peeled it off, and to his horror saw that tiny pin-pricks of blood were left where it had been. His body twitched in nausea and he ripped the rest from his face, slashing at others with his crooning runesword. As they were touched by the blade, so they shrivelled, but they were swiftly replaced.

He knew, instinctively, that they were sucking not only blood from his veins, but the soul-force from his being; he was weakening slightly already.

Behind him, his companions were experiencing the same with yells of terror.

These leaves were being directed and he knew where the direction came from-the tree itself. He clambered up the remaining steps, fighting off the leaves which swarmed like locusts around him. With grim intention he began hacking at the trunk which gave out an angry groaning and the branches sought to reach him. He slashed them away and then plunged Stormbringer deep into the tree. Sods of earth spattered upwards as the roots threshed. The tree screamed and began to heel over towards him as if, in death, it sought to kill him also. He wrenched at Stormbringer, which sucked greedily at the half-sentient tree's life-stuff, failed to tug the sword out, and leapt aside as the tree crashed down over the steps, barely missing him. One branch slashed his face and drew blood. He gasped and staggered, feeling the life draining from him.

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.

«You look upon the last of mankind, my friends, save for ourselves. Soon it will be indistinguishable from anything else. All this unstable earth is beneath the heel of the Lords of Chaos, and they are gradually absorbing it into their realm, into their own plane. They will first remould and then steal the earth altogether; it will become just another lump of clay for them to mould into whatever grotesque shapes take their fancy.»

«And we seek to stop that, » Moonglum said hopelessly. «We cannot, Elric! »

«We must continue to strive, until we are conquered. I remember that Straasha the Sea King, said, if Lord Pyaray, commander of the Ships of Hell, is slain, the ships themselves will no longer be able to exist. I have a mind to put that to the test. Also, I have not forgotten that my wife may be prisoner aboard his ship, or that Jagreen Lern is there. I have three good reasons for venturing there.»

«No, Elric! It would be more than suicide.»

«I do not ask you to accompany me.»

«If you go, we shall come, but I like it not.»

«No - if one man cannot succeed, neither can three. I shall go alone. Wait here for me. If I do not return, then try to get to Melnibone.»

«But Elric-! » Moonglum cried and then watched as, his Chaos Shield pulsing, Elric spurred the Nihrain steed towards the camp.

Protected against the Influence of Chaos, Elric was sighted by a detachment of warriors as he neared the ship which was his destination. They recognised him and rode towards him shouting.

He laughed in their faces, half-maddened by the sights, smells and sounds around him.

«Just the fodder my blade needs before we banquet on yonder ship! » he cried as he slashed off the first man's head as if it were a buttercup.

Secure behind his great round shield, he hewed about him with a will. Since Stormbringer had slain the gods imprisoned in the elder trees, the vitality which the sword passed into him was almost without limit, yet every soul that Elric stole from Jagreen Lern's Warriors was another fraction of vengeance reaped. Against men, he was invincible. He split one heavily armoured warrior from bead to crutch, sheared through the saddle and smashed the horse's backbone apart.

Then the remaining warriors dropped back suddenly and Elric felt his body tingle with peculiar sensations, knew he was in the area of influence exerted by the Chaos ship and knew also that he was being protected against it by his shield. He was now partially out of his own earthly plane and existed between his world and the world of Chaos. He dismounted from his Nihrain steed and ordered it to wait for him. There were ropes trailing from the huge sides of the Ship and Elric saw with horror that other figures were climbing up them - and he recognised several as men he had known in Karlaak.

Even now the Chaos ship was still recruiting its crew from the ranks of the dead!

He joined the ghastly ranks and swarmed with them up the tides of the great gleaming ship, grateful at least for the cover they gave him.

He reached the ship's rail and hauled himself over it, spitting bile from his throat as he entered a peculiar region of darkness and came to the first of a series of decks that rose like steps to the topmost one where he could see the occupants-a manlike figure and something like a huge, blood-red octopus. The first was probably Jagreen Lern. The second was obviously Pyaray, for this, Elric knew, was the guise he took when he manifested himself on Earth.

Contrasting with the ships seen from the distance, once aboard Elric became conscious of the dark, shadowy nature of the light filled with moving threads, a network of dark reds, blues, yellows, greens and purples which, as he moved through it, gave and re-formed itself behind him.

He was constantly being blundered against by the moving cadavers and he made a point of not looking at their faces, too closely, for he had already recognised several of the sea-raiders whom he had abandoned years before, during the escape from Imrryr.

Slowly he was gaining the top deck, noting that so far, both Jagreen Lern and Lord Pyaray seemed unaware of his presence. Presumably they considered themselves entirely free from any kind of attack now they had conquered all the known world. He grinned maliciously to himself as he continued climbing, gripping the shield tightly, knowing that if once he lost hold of it, his body would become transformed either into some shambling alien shape or else flow away altogether to become absorbed into the Chaos stuff.

By now Elric had forgotten everything but his main object which was to kill Lord Pyaray. He must gain the top-most deck and deal first with the Lord of Chaos. Then he would kill Jagreen Lern and, if she were really there, rescue Zarozinia and bear her to safety.

Up the dark decks, through the nets of strange colours, Elric went, his milk white hair flowing behind him in contrast to the moody darkness around him.

As he came to the last deck but one, he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and looking in that direction saw, with heart-lurching horror, that one of Pyaray's blood-red tentacles had found him. He stumbled back, pulling up his shield.

The tentacle tip touched the shield and rebounded suddenly, the entire tentacle shrivelling. From above, where the Chaos Lord’s main bulk was, there came a terrible screaming and roaring.

«What's this? What’s this? What’s this?»

Elric shouted in impudent triumph at seeing his shield work with such effect: «‘Tis Elric of Melnibone, great lord. Come to destroy thee! »

Another tentacle dropped towards him, seeking to curl around the shield and seize him. Then another followed it and another. Elric hacked at one, severed its sensitive tip, saw another touch the shield, recoil and shrivel and then avoided the third in order to run round the deck and ascend, as swiftly as he could, the ladder leading to the deck above. Here he saw Jagreen Lern, his eyes wide. The Theocrat was clad in his familiar scarlet armour. On his arm was his buckler and in the same hand an axe, while his right hand held a broadsword. He glanced down at these weapons, obviously aware of their inadequacy against Elric's.

«You later, Theocrat, » Elric promised grimly.

«You're a fool, Elric! You're doomed now' whatever you do! »

It was probably true, but he did not care.

«Aside, upstart, » Elric said as, his shield up, he moved warily towards the many-teotacled Lord of Chaos.

«You are the killer of many cousins of mine, Elric, » the creature said in a low voice. «And you've banished several Dukes of Chaos to their own domain so that they cannot reach Earth again. For that you must pay. But I at least do not underestimate you, as, in likelihood, they did.» A tentacle reared above him and tried to come down from over the shield's rim and seize his throat. He took a step backwards and blocked the attempt with the shield.

Then a whole web of tentacles began to come from all sides, each one curling around the shield, knowing its touch to be death. He skipped aside, avoiding them with difficulty, slicing about him with Stormbringer.

As he fought, he remembered Straasha's last message: «Strike for the crystal a-top his head. There is his life and his soul.» Elric saw the blue radiating crystal which he had originally taken to be one of Lord Pyaray's several eyes.

He moved in towards the roots of the tentacles, leaving his back badly unprotected, but there was nothing else for it. As he did so, a huge maw gaped in the thing's head and tentacles began to draw him towards it. He extended his shield towards the maw and had the satisfaction of seeing yellow jelly-like stuff spurt from it as the Lord of Chaos screamed in pain.

He got his foot on one tentacle stump and clambered up the slippery hide of the Chaos Lord, every time his shield touched him creating some sort of wound so that Lord Pyaray began to thresh about dreadfully. Then he stood above the glowing soul-crystal. For an instant he paused, then plunged Stormbringer point-first into the crystal!

There came a mighty throbbing from the heart of the entity's body. It gave vent to a monstrous shriek sad then Elric yelled as Stormbringer took the soul of a Lord of Hell and channelled this surging vitality through to him. It was too much. He was hurled backwards.

He lost his footing on the slippery back, stumbled off the deck itself and fell to another nearly a hundred feet below. He landed with bone-cracking force, but, thanks to the stolen vitality, was completely unharmed. He got up, ready to clamber towards Jagreen Lern.

The Theocrat’s anxious face peered down at him and he yelled: «You'll find a present for you in yonder cabin, Elric! »

Torn between pursuing the Theocrat and investigating the Cabin, Elric turned and opened the door. From inside came a dreadful sobbing.

«Zarozinia! » he cried. He ducked into the dark place and there he saw her.

Her lovely body was dreadfully changed so that it now resembled the body of a white worm. Only her head, the same beautiful head, was left.

Horrified he almost dropped his shield.

«Did Jagreen Lern do this?»

«He and his ally.» The head nodded.

Sickened, Elric could hardly bear to look at her. «Another great score that must be paid, » he muttered.

And then the worm-body had threshed and impaled itself on his sword. «There! » the head cried. «Take my soul into you. Elric, for I am useless to myself and you, now! Carry my soul with yours and we shall be forever together.» He tried to withdraw the thirsty runeblade, but it was impossible. And. unlike any other sensation he had ever received from it, this was almost gentle, warm and pleasant, his wife's soul flowed into his and he wept as it did so.

«Oh, Zarozinia, » he sobbed. «Oh, my love! »

So she died, her soul blending with his as, years before, the soul of his first love, Cymoril, had been taken. He did not look at the dreadful worm-body, did not glance at her face, but walked slowly from the cabin.

But now it appeared that the deck was disintegrating, flowing apart Jagreen Lern had evidently made good his escape and Elric in his present mood, did not feel ready to pursue him. Sword and shield both aiding him in their ways, he leapt from the ship to the pulsating ground and ran for the Nihrain steed.

Then, the tears still flowing down his white face, he rode, leaving the Ships of Hell breaking apart behind him. At least these would threaten the world no more and a blow had been struck against Chaos. Now only the horde itself remained to be dealt with-and the dealing would not be so easy.

He rejoined his friends in silence, said nothing to them and led the way over the shaking earth towards Melnibone, island of his ancestors, where the last stand against Chaos would be made, the last battle fought and his destiny completed.

And in his mind as he rode, he seemed to hear Zarozinia's youthful voice whispering comforting words as, still sobbing, he galloped away from the camp of Chaos.