This Berkley Book contains the complete
text of the original edition.

STORMBRINGER

A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with
the author

PRINTING HISTOKY

DAW Books edition/November 1977
Berkley edition / March 1984
Second printing/July 1984

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 1963. 1965, 1967, 1977 by Michael Moorcock.
Cover art by Robert Gould-

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The name "BERKLEY" and the stylized "B" with design
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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

For J. G. Ballard. whose enthusiasm for
Eiric gave me the encouragement to begin
this particular book, my first attempt at
a full-length novel, and for Jim Cawthom,
whose illustrations based on my ideas in
turn gave me inspiration for certain scenes
in this book, and for Dave Britten, who
kept the magazines in which the serial
first appeared and who kindly loaned
them to me so that I could restore this
novel to its original shape and length.

STORM
BRINCER

Prologue

There came a time when there was great movement upon the
Earth and above it, when the destiny of Men and Gods was
hammered out upon'the forge of Fate, when monstrous wars
were brewed and mighty deeds were designed. And there rose
up in this time, which was called the Age of the Young King-
doms, heroes. Greatest of these heroes was a doom-driven ad-
venturer who bore a crooning rune blade that he loathed.

His name was Brie of Melnibone, king of ruins, lord of a
scattered race that had once ruled the ancient world. Eiric.
sorcerer and swordsman, slayer of kin, despoiler of his home
land, white-faced albino, last of his line.

Eiric, who had come to Kariaak by the Weeping Waste
and had married a wife in whom he found some peace, some
surcease from the torment in him.

And Eiric, who had within him a greater destiny than he
knew, now dwelt in Kariaak with Zarozinia, his wife. and his
sleep was troubled, his dream dark, one brooding night in the
Month of the Anemone.. •

BOOK ONE

Dead God's Homecoming

la which, at long last, Eric's fate begins to be revealed to
hhn as the forces of Law and Chaos gather strength for the
final battle which will decide the future of Eiric's world...

One

Above the rolling earth great clouds tumbled down and bolts
of lightning charged groundwards to slash the midnight black,
split trees in twain and sear through roofs that cracked and
broke.

The dark mass of forest trembled with the shock and out
of it crept six hunched, unhuman figures who paused to stare
beyood the low hills towards the outline of a city. It was a
city of squat walls and slender spires, of graceful towers and
domes; and it bad a name which the leader of the creatures
knew. Kariaak by the Weeping Waste it was called.

Not of natural origin, the storm was ominous. It groaned
around the city of Kariaak as the creatures skulked past the
open gates and made their way through shadows towards the
elegant palace where Eiric slept. The leader raised an axe of
black iron in its clawed hand. The group came to a stealthy
halt and regarded the sprawling palace which lay on a hill

•urrounded by languorously-scented gardens. The earth shook
as lightning lashed it and thunder prowled across the turbu-
lent sky.

"Chaos has aided us in this matter," the leader grunted.

**Sec—already the guards fall in magic slumber and our en-
trance is thus made simple. The Lords of Chaos are good to
their servants."

He spoke the truth. Some supernatural force had been at
work and the warriors guarding Eiric's palace had dropped to
tee ground, their snores echoing the thunder. The servants of
Chaos crept past the prone guards, into the main courtyard
and from there into the darkened palace. Unerringly they
climbed twisting staircases, moved softly along gloomy cor-
ridors, to arrive at length outside the room where Eiric and
his wife lay in uneasy sleep.

As the leader laid a hand upon the door, a voice cried out

13

Michael Moorcock

from within the room: "What's this? What things of heU dis-
rupt my rest?11

"He sees list" sharply whispered one of the creatures.
"No," the leader said, "he sleeps—but such a sorcerer as
this Eiric is not so easily lulled into a stupor. We had best

make speed and do our work, for if be wakes it will be the
harder!"

He twisted the handle and eased the door open, his axe
half raised. Beyond the bed, heaped with tumbled furs and
silks, lightning gashed the night again, showing the white face
of the albino close to that of his dark-haired wife.

Even as they entered, he rose stiffly in the bed and his
crimson eyes opened, staring out at them. For a moment the
eyes were glazed and then the albino forced himself awake,
shouting: "Begone, you creatures of my dreams!"

The leader cursed and leaped forward, but he had been in-
structed not to slay this man. He raised the axe threateningly.

"Silence—your guards cannot aid you!"

Eiric jumped from the bed and grasped the thing's wrist,
his face close to the fanged muzzle. Because of his albmoism
he was physically weak and required magic to give him
strength. But so quickly did he move, that he had wrested the
axe from the creature's hand and smashed the shaft between
its eyes. Snarling, it fell back, but its comrades jumped for-
ward. There were five of them, huge muscles moving beneath
their furred skins.

Eiric clove the skull of the first as others grappled with
him. His body was spattered with the thing's blood and brains
and he gasped in disgust at the fetid stuff. He managed to
wrench his arm away and bring the axe up and down into the
collarbone of another. But then be felt his legs gripped and
he fell, confused but still battling. Then there came a great
blow on bis head and pain blazed through him. He made an
effort to rise, failed and fell back insensible.

Thunder and lightning still disturbed the night when, with
throbbing head, he awoke and got slowly to his feet using a
bedpost as support He stared dazedly around him.

Zarozinia was gone. The only other figure in the room was

the stiff corpse of the beast be had killed. His black-haired
girl-wife had been abducted.

Shaking, he went to the door and flung it open, calling for
his guards, but none answered him.

His runesword Stonnbnnger hung in the city's armoury

STORMB RINGER            15

and would take time to get His throat tight with pain and

•nwf, he ran down the corridors and stairways, dazed with
anxiety, trying to grasp the implications of his wife's disap-
pearance.

Above (he palace, thunder still crashed, eddying about in
the noisy night The palace seemed deserted and he had the
sodden feeling that he was completely alone, mat he had
been abandoned. But as be ran out into the main courtyard
and saw me insensible guards he realised at once that their

•lumber could not be natural. Realisation was coming even as
he ran through the gardens, through the gates and down to
tihe city, but mere was no sign of bis wife's abductors.

Where bad they gone?

He raised his eyes to the shouting sky, his white face stark
and twisted with frustrated anger. There was no sense to it
Why had they taken her? He had enemies, he knew, but none
who could summon such supernatural help. Who, apart from
himself, could work this mighty sorcery that made the skies
themselves shake and a city sleep?

To the house of Lord Voashoon. Chief Senator, of Kariaak.

•od father of Zarozinia, Eiric ran panting like a wolf. He
banged with his fists upon the door, yelling at the astonished
servants within.

"Opcnl It is Eiric. HurryF

The doors gaped back and he was through them. Lord
Voashoon came stumbling down the stair into the chamber,
his face heavy with sleep.

"What is if Eiric?**

"Summon your warriors. Zarozinia has been abducted.
Thoee who took her were demons and may be far from here
by now—but we must search in case they escaped by land."

Lord Voashoon's face became instantly alert and he
shouted terse orders to his servants between listening to El-
ite's explanation of what had happened.

"And I must have entrance into the armoury," Eiric con-
cluded. 'T must have Stonnbringeri"

"But you renounced the blade for fear of its evil power
over you!" Lord Voashoon reminded him quietly.

Eiric replied impatiently. "Aye—but I renounced the blade
tar Zarozinia's sake, too. I must have Stonnbringcr if I am to
bring her back. The logic is simple. Quickly, give me the
key."

In silence Lord Voashoon fetched the key and led Eiric to

16

Michael Moorcock

the armoury where the weapons and armour of his ancestors
was held, unused for centuries. Through the dusty place
strode Eiric to a dark alcove that seemed to contain some-
thing which lived.

He heard a soft moaning come from the great black battle
blade as he reached out a slim-fingered white hand to take it
It was heavy, yet perfectly balanced, a two-handed broad-
sword of prodigious size, with its wide crosspiece and its
blade smooth and broad, stretching for over five feet from
the hilt Near the hilt, mystic runes were engraved and even
Brie did not know what they fully signified.

"Again I must make use of you, Storrobringer," he said as
he buckled the sheath about his waist, "and I must conclude

(hat we are too closely linked now for less than death to sep-
arate us.**

With that he was striding from the armoury and back to
the courtyard where mounted guards were already sitting ner-
vous steeds, awaiting his instructions.

Standing before them, he drew Stonnbringer so that the
sword's strange, black radiance flickered around him, his
white face, as pallid as bleached bone, staring out of it at the
horsemen.

"You go to chase demons this night Search the country-
side, scour forest and plain for those who have done this
thing to our princess! Though it's likely that her -ibdnctors
used supernatural means to make their escape, we cannot be
sure. So search—and search well!'*

All through the raging night they searched but could find
no trace of either the creatures or Eiric's wife. And when
dawn came, a smear of blood in the morning sky, his men re-
turned to Karlaak where EIric awaited them. now filled with
the nigromantic vitality which his sword supplied.

"Lord EIric—shall we retrace our trail and see if daylight
yields a clue?" cried one.

"He does not hear you," another murmured as EIric gave
no sign.

But then EIric turned his pain-racked head and he said
bleakly, "Search no more. I have had time to mediate and

must seek my wife with the aid of sorcery. Disperse. You can
do nothing further."

Then he left them and went back towards his palace,
knowing that there was still ooc way of learning where Zaro-

STORMBRINGER             17

xfala had been taken. It was a method which he Ul-lflced. yet
jt would have to be employed.

Curtly, upon returning, EIric ordered everyone from his
dumber, barred the door and stared down at the dead thing.
to congealed blood was still on him, but the axe with which
be had stain it had been taken away by hs comrades.

EIric prepared the body, stretching out its limbs on the
floor. He drew the shutters of the windows so that no tight fil-
tered into the room, and lit a brazier in one corner. It swayed
on its chains as me oil-soaked rushes flared. He went to a
email chest by the window and took out a pouch. From thia
he removed a bunch of dried herbs and with a hasty gesture
flung them on the brazier so that it gave off a sickly odour
and die room began to fill with smoke. Then he stood over
the corpse, his body rigid, and began to sing an incantation in
the old language of his forefathers, the sorcerer emperors of
Mdnibone. The song seemed scarcely akin to human speech,
riling and falling from a deep groan to a high-pitched shriek.

The brazier spread flaring red light over EIric's face and
grotesque shadows skipped about the room. On the floor the
dead corpse began to stir, its ruined head moving from side
to ride. EIric drew his runesword and placed it before him,
his two hands on the hilt "Arise, soulless one!" he com-
manded.

Slowly, with jerky movements, the creature raised itself
stiffly upright and pointed a clawed finger at EIric, its glazed
eyes staring as if beyond him.

"An mis,*' it whispered, "was pre-ordained. Think not that
you can escape your fate, EIric of Melnibone. You have tam-
pered with my corpse and 1 am a creature of Chaos. My
masters win avenge me.**

"How?"

"Your destiny is already laid down. You win know soon
enough."

"Tell me. dead one, why did you come to abduct my wife?
Who sent you hither? Where has my wife been taken?"

"Three questions. Lord EIric. Requiring three answers. You
know that the dead who have been raised by sorcery can an-
swer nothing directly.'*

"Aye—that I know. So answer as you can.**

"Then listen well for I may recite only once my reed and

18

Michael'Moorcock

then must return to the nether-regions where my being may
peacefully rot to nothing. Listen;

"Beyond the ocean brews a baffle;

Beyond the battle blood shall faU.
If Elfins kinsman ventures with him
(Bearing a twin of that he bears)
To a place where, man-forsaken.
Dwells the one who should not live,
Then a bargain shall be entered^
Bine's wife shall be restored."

With this, die dung fell to die floor and did not stir
thereafter.

Eiric went to die window and opened the shutters. Used as
be was to enigmatic verse-omens, this one was difficult to uo-
raveL As daylight entered the room, the rushes spluttered and

die smoke faded. Beyond the ocean . . . There were many

oceans.

He resheathed his runesword and climbed on to the disor-
dered bed to lie down and comtemplate die reed. At last, af-
ter long minutes of this contemplation, he remembered
something he had heard from a traveller who bad come to

Kariaak. from Tarkesh. a nation of me Western Continent,
beyond the Pale Sea.

The traveller had told him how diere was trouble brewing
between me land of Dharijor and me other nations of me
west Dharijor had contravened treaties she had signed with
her neighbouring kingdoms and had signed a new one with
me Theocrat of Pan Tang. Pan Tang was an unholy island
dominated by its dark aristocracy of warrior-wizards. It was
from here mat Bine's old enemy, Theleb K'aarna, had come.
Its capital of Hwamgaari was called the City of Screaming
Statues and until recently its residents had had little contact
with the folk of die outside world. Jagreen Lern was me new
Theocrat and an ambitious man. His alliance with Dharijor
could only mean mat be sought more power over the nations
of the Young Kingdoms. The traveller bad said dial strife
was sure to break out at any moment since diere was ample

evidence that Dharijor and Pan Tang had entered a war al-
liance.

Now. as his memory improved, Eiric related mis informa-
tion with me news he had had recently that Queen Yiabana

STORMBRINGER            19

of Ibarkor, a neighbouring kingdom to Dharijor, had recruit-
ed tfae aid of Dyvim Slorm and his Imrryrian mercenaries.
And Dyvim Slorm was Eiric's only kinsman. This meant that
Jharkor must be preparing for battle against Dharijor. The

two facts were too closely linked with die prophecy to be ig-
nored.

Even as he thought upon it, be was gathering his clothes
together and preparing for a journey. There was nothing for
ft but to go to Jharkor and speed ily, for diere he was sure to
meet his kinsman. Aod diere, also, diere would soon be a
battle if all die evidence were true.

Yet the prospect of die journey, which would take many
days, caused a cold ache to grow in his heart as be thought

of me weeks to come in which be would not know how his
wife fared.

"No time for that," he told himself as he laced up bis
black quilted jacket. "Action is all mat's required of me
now—and speedy action."

He held me sheathed runeblade before him, staring beyond
it into space. "1 swear by Arioch diat tfiose who have done
mis, whedier diey be man or immortal, shall suffer from their
deed. Hear me, Arioch! That is my oadi!"

But his words found no answer and be sensed diat Arioch,
bis patron demon, had either not heard him or else heard bis
«ath and was unmoved.

Then he was striding from me death-heavy chamber, yell-
ing for bis horse.

Two

Where the Sighing Desert gave way to the borders of Ilmiora,
between the coasts of the Eastern continent and the lands of
Tarkesh, Dharijor and Shazar, there lay the Pale Sea.

It was a cold sea, a morose and chilling sea, but ships pre-
ferred to cross from Ilmiora to Dharijor by means of it,
rather than chance the weirder dangers of the Straits of
Chaos which were lashed by eternal storms and inhabited by
malevolent sea-creatures.

On the deck of an Umioran schooner, Eiric of Melnibone
stood wrapped in his cloak, shivering and staring gloomily at
the cloud-covered sky.

The captain, a stocky man with blue, humorous eyes, came
struggling along the deck towards him. He had a cup of hot
wine in his hands. He steadied himself by clinging to a piece
of rigging and gave the cup to Eiric.

"Thanks,** said the albino gratefully. He sipped the wine.
"How soon before we make the port of Banarva, captain?"

The captain pulled the collar of his leather jerkin about his
unshaven face. **We're sailing slow, but we should sight the
Tarkesh peninsula well before sunset" Banarva was in
Tarkesh* one of its chief trading posts. The captain leaned on
the rail. "I wonder how long these waters wffl be free for
ships now that war's broken out between the kingdoms of the
west. Both Dharijor and Pan Tang have been notorious in the
past for their piratical activities. They'll soon extend them un-
der the guise of war, ITl warrant.**

Eiric nodded vaguely, his mind on other things than the
prospect of piracy.

Disembarking in me chilly evening at the port of Banarva,
Eiric soon saw ample evidence that war darkened the lands
of the Young Kingdoms. There were rumours rife, talk of
nothing but battles gained and warriors lost From the con-
20

STORMBRINGER            21

fined gossip, he could get no dear impression of how the war
went, save that the decisive battle was yet to be fought

Loquacious Banarvans told him that all over the Western
Continent men were marching. From Myyrrhn, he heard, the
winged men were flying. From Jharkor, the White Leopards,
Queen Yishana's personal guard, ran towards Dharijor, while
Dyvim Slonn and his mercenaries pressed northwards to meet
them.

Dharijor was the strongest nation of me west and Pan
Tang was a formidable ally, more for her people's occult
knowledge man for her numbers. Next in power to Dharijor
came Jharkor, who, with her allies Tarkesh, Myyrrhn and
Shazar, was still not as strong as those who threatened the se-
curity of the Young Kingdoms.

For some years Dharijor had sought an opportunity for
conquest and the hasty alliance against her had been made in
an effort to stop her before she had fully prepared for con-
quest Whether this effort would succeed, Eiric did not know,
and those who spoketo him were equally uncertain.

The streets of Banarva were packed with soldiers and sup-
ply trains of horses and oxen. The harbour was filled with
warships and it was difficult to find lodgings since most inns
and many private houses had been requisitioned by the army.
And it was the same all over the Western Continent Every-
where, men strapped metal about them, bestrode heavy charg-
ers, sharpened their arms, and rode beneath bright silken
banners to slay and to despoiL

Here, without doubt, Eiric reflected, he would find the
battle of uie prophecy. He tried to forget his tormented long-
ing for news of Zarozinia and turned bis moody eyes towards
the west Stormbringer hung like an anchor at his side and ho
fingered it constantly, hating it even as it fed him his vitality.

He spent the night in Banarva and by morning had hired a
good horse and was riding through the sparse grassland
towards Jharkor.

Across a war-torn world rode Eiric, his crimson eyes burn-
ing with a fierce anger at the sights of wanton destruction he
witnessed. Although be had himself lived by his sword for
many years and had committed acts of murder, robbery and
urbicide, he disliked the senselessness of wars such as this, of
men who killed one another for only the vaguest of reasons.
It was not that he pitied the slain or hated the slayers; he was
too remote from ordinary men to care greatly about what

22

Michael Moorcock

they did. Yet, in bis own tortured way, he was an idea&t
who, because be lacked peace and security himself, resulted
- the sights of strife which this war brought to him. His ances-
tors, he knew, had also been remote, yet they had delighted
in the conflicts of the men of the Young Kingdoms, observing
mem from a distance and judging themselves above nidi ac-
tivities; above the morass of sentiment and emotion in which
these new men struggled. For ten thousand years me sor-
cerer-emperors of Memibone had ruled this world, a race
without conscience or moral creed, unneedful of reasons for
their acts of conquest, seeking no excuses for their natural
malicious tendencies. But Hric, the last in the direct line of
emperors, was not like them. He was capable of cruelty and
malevolent sorcery, had little pity, yet could love and hate
more violently than ever his ancestors. And these strong pas-
sions, perhaps, had been the cause of his breaking with his
homeland and travelling me world to compare himself
against these new men since be could find none in Memibone
who shared his feelings. And it was because of these twin
forces of love and hate that be had returned to have ven-
geance on his cousin Yyrkoon who had put Cymorfl, Elric'9
betrothed, into a magic slumber and usurped me kingship of
Melnibone, the Dragon Isle, last territory of the fallen Bright
Empire. With the aid of a fleet of reavers, Eiric had razed
Inuryr in his vengeance-taking, destroyed the Dreaming City
and scattered forever the race who had founded h so that the
last survivors were now mercenaries roaming the worid to seQ
their arms to whomever bid highest. Love and bate; they had
led him to kill Yyrkoon who deserved death and, inadver-
tenfly, Cymoril, who did not Love and hate. They welled in
him now as bitter smoke stung his throat and be passed a
straggling group of townspeople who were fleeing, without
knowledge of their direction, from me latest depredation of
the roving Dharijorian troops who had struck far into this
part of Tarkesh and had met little hindrance from the armies
of King Hilran of Tarkesh whose main force was concen-
trated further north, readying itself for the major battle.

Now Eiric rode close to me Western Marches, near the
Jharkorian border. Here lived sturdy foresters and harvesters
in better times. But now the forests were blackened and burnt
and the crops of the field were mined.

His journey, which was speedy for he wasted 06 time. took
him through one of the stark forests where remnants of trees

STORMBRINOER            23

cast cold silhouettes against me grey, seething sky. He raised
the hood of his cloak over his bead so that the heavy black
fabric completely hid his face, and rode on as rain rushed
suddenly down and beat through the skeleton trees, sweeping
across the distant plains beyond so that all the world seemed
grey and black with the hiss of the rain a constant and de-
pressing sound.

Then, as he passed a ruined hovel which was half cottage
and half hole in the earth, a cawing voice called out:

"Lord Eiricr

Astonished that he should be recognised, he turned his
bleak face in the direction of the voice, pushing his hood
back as he did so. A ragged figure appeared in the hole's
opening. It beckoned him closer. Puzzled, he walked his horse
towards the figure and saw that it was an old man, or per-
haps a woman, he couldn't tell.

**You know my name. How?"

**Thou art a legend throughout the Young Kingdoms. Who
could not recognise that white face and heavy blade thou art
carrying?**

True, perhaps, but I have a notion there is more to this
than chance recognition. Who are you and how do you know
the High Speech of Memibone?" Eiric deliberately used the
coarse Common Speech.

**Thou shouldst know mat all who practise dark sorcery use
the High Tongue of those who are pastmasters in its arts.
Wouldst thou guest with me a while?"

Eiric looked at the hovel and shook his head. He was fas-
tidious at the best of times. The wretch smiled and made a
mock bow, restoring to the Common Speech and saying: "So
the mighty lord disdains to grace my poor home. But does he
not perhaps wonder why the fire which raged through this
forest a while ago did not, in fact, harm me?"

"Aye,** said Eiric thoughtfully, **that is an interesting
riddle.**

The hag took a step towards him. "Soldiers came not a
month gone—from Pan Tang they were. Devil Riders with
weir hunting tigers running with mem. They despoiled the
harvest and burnt even the forests that those who fled them
might not eat game or berries here. I lived in this forest all
my life, doing a little simple magic and prophecy for my
needs. But when I saw the walls of flame soon to engulf me,

24

I cried the name of • demon I knew—a thinf from ChftM
which, latterly. I had dared not SUBUDOIL It cune.

"*Savc me,' cried I, 'And what would ye do in return?*
•aid the demon. 'Anything,' I quoth. Then bear this message
for my masters,' it said. 'When the fcinslayer known as Eiric
of Melnibooe shall pass this way, tell him that there is one
kinsman he shall not slay and be will be found in Sequaloris.
If Brie loves his wife. he will play his role. If be plays it
well, his wife shall be returned.' So I fixed the message in my
mind and now give it thee as I swore."

"Thanks," said Eiric, **and what did you give in the first
place for the power to summon such a demon?"

"Why, my soul, of course. But it was an old one and not
of much worth. Hell could be no worse man this existence."

'Then why did you not let yourself burn, your soul unbar-
tered?"

"I wish to live," said me wretch, smiling again. "Oh, life is
good. My own life, perhaps, is squalid, yet the life around me
that is what I love. But let me not keep you, my lord, for you
have weightier matters on your mind." Once more the wretch
gave a mock bow as Eiric rode off, puzzled, but encouraged.
His wife still lived and was safe. But what bargain must he
strike before be could get her back?

Savagely he goaded his horse into a gallop, heading for Se-
qualoris in Jbarkor. Behind him, faintly through die beating
rain, he heard a cackling at once mocking aod miserable.

Now his direction was not so vague, and be rode at great
speed.-but cautiously, avoiding the roving bands of invaders,
imtil at length the arid plains gave way to the lusher wheat-
lands of the Sequa province of Jharfcor. Another day's ride
and Eiric entered the small walled city of Sequaloris which
had so far not suffered attack. Here, he discovered prepara-
tions for war and learnt news that was of greater interest to
him.

The InuTyriao mercenaries, led by Dyvim Storm, Eiric's
cousin and son of Dyvim Tvar, Eiric's old friend, were due to
arrive next day in Sequaloris.

There had been a certain enmity between Eiric and the
Inuryrians since the albino had been the direct cause of their
need to leave the ruins of the Dreaming City and live as mer-
cenaries. But those times were past, long since, and on two
previous occasions he and the Imrryrians had fought on the

25

same side. He wu their leader by right and the tics of tradi-
tion were strong in the elder race. Eiric prayed to Arioch that
Dyvim Slorm would have aome due to his wife's where-
abouts.

At noon of the next day the mercenary army rode swag-
gering into the city. Eiric met them dose to the city gate. The
hnrryrian warriors were obviously weary from a long ride
and were loaded with booty since, before Yishana sent for
mem, they had been raiding in Shazar dose to the Marshes
of the Mist. They were different from any other race, these
Imrryrians, with their tapering faces, slanting eyes and high
cheekbones. They were pale and slim with long, soft hair
drifting to their shoulders. The finery they wore was not
stolen, but definitely Meinibonean in design; shimmering
cloths of gold, blue and green, metals of delicate workman-
ship and intricately patterned. They carried lances with long.
sweeping heads and there were slender swords at their sides.
They sat arrogantly in their saddles, convinced of their supe-
riority over other mortals, and were, as Eiric, not quite hu-
man in their unearthly beauty.

He rode up to meet Dyvim Slorm, his own sombre clothes
contrasting with theirs. He wore a tall-collared jacket of quilt-
ed leather, black and buckled in by a broad, plain belt at
which hung a poignard and Stonnbringer. His milk-white hair
was held from his eyes by a fillet of black bronze and his
breeks and boots were also black. All mis black set off sharp-
ly his white skin and crimson, glowing eyes.

Dyvim Slorm bowed in his saddle, showing only slight sur-
prise.

"Cousin Eiric. So the omen was true.'*
"What omen, Dyvim Slorm?'*
"A falcon's—your name bird if I remember."
It bad been customary for Melniboneans to identify new-
born children with birds of their choice; thus Eiric's was a
falcon, hunting bird of prey.

"What did it tell you, cousin?" Eiric asked eagerly.
"It gave a puzzling message. While we had barely gone
from the Marshes of the Mist, it came and perched on my
shoulder, and spoke in human tongue. It told me to come to
Sequaloris and there I would meet my king. From Sequaloris
we were to journey together to join Yishana*s army and the
battle, whether won or lost, would resolve the direction of

26 Michael Moorcock

our linked destinies thereafter. Do you make sense of that,
cousin?"

"Some^ Eiric frowned. "But come—I haw a place
reserved for you at the inn. I will tell you all I know over
wine—if we can find decent wine in this forsaken hamlet I
need help, cousin; as much help as I can obtain* for Zaro-
zinia has been abducted by supernatural agents and I have a
feeling that this and the wars are but two elements in a
greater play.**

"Then quickly, to the inn. My curiosity is further piqued.
This matter increases in interest for me. First falcons and
omens, now abductions and strife! What else. I wonder, are
we to meet!**

With the Imrryrians straggling after diem through the
cobbled streets, scarcely a hundred warriors but hardened by
their outlawed lift, Eiric and Dyvim Slorm made their way to
the inn and there, in haste, Eiric outlined all he had learned.

Before replying, his cousin sipped bis wine and carefully
placed the cup upon the board, pursing his lips. "I have a
feeling in my bones that we are puppets in some struggle be-
tween the gods. For all our blood and flesh and wul, we can
see none of the bigger conflict save for a few scarcely related
details."

"That may be so," said Eiric impatiently, "but Fm greatly
angered at being involved and require my wife's release. I
have no notion why we, together, must make the bargain for
her return, neither can I guess what h is we have that those
who captured her want But, if the omens are sent by the
same agents, then we had best do as we are told, for the
meantime, until we can see matters more clearty. Then, per-
haps, we can act upon our own volition.**

"That's wise," Dyviro Slorm nodded, "and Fm with you in
it" He smued slightly and- added: "Whether 1 like it or not. I
fancy."

Eiric said: "Where lies the main army of Dharijor and Pan
Tang? I heard it was gathering."

"It has gathered—and marches closer. The impending
battle will decide who rules the western lands. I'm committed
to Yishana's aide, not only because she has employed us to
aid her, but because I felt that if the warped lords of Pan
Tang dominate these nations, then tyranny will come upon

27

them and they will threaten the security of the whole world.
It i» a sad thing when a Mclnibonean has to consider such
problems." He smiled ironically. "Aside from that, I like
uiem not these aorcerou* upstarts—they seek to emulate the
Bright Empire."

"Aye." Eiric said. They are an island culture, as ours was.
They are sorcerers and warriors as our ancestors were. But
their sorcery is less healthy than ever ours was. Our ancestors
committed frightful deeds, yet it was natural to them. These
newcomers, more human than we, have perverted their hu-
manity whereas we never possessed it in the same degree.
There will never be another Bright Empire, nor can their
power last more than ten thousand years. This is a fresh age,
Dyvim Slorm, in more man one way. The time of subtle sor-
cery is on the wane. Men an finding new means of har-
nessing natural power."

"Our knowledge is ancient," Dyvim Slorm agreed, "yet, so
old is it that it has little relation to present events, I think.
Our logic and learning are suited to the past..."

"I think you are right** said Eiric, whose mingled emotions
were suited neither to past present nor future. "Aye, it is fit-
ting that we should be wanderers, for we have no place in
this world."

They drank in silence, moodily, their minds on matters of
philosophy. Yef for all this, Eiric's thoughts were forever
turning to Zarozinia and the fear of what might have befallen
her. The very innocence of this girl, her vulnerability and her
youth had been, to some degree at least his salvation. His
protective love for her had helped to keep him from brooding
too deeply on his own doom-filled life and her company had
eased bis melancholy. The strange reed of the dead creature
lingered in his memory. Undoubtedly the reed had referred to
a battle, and the falcon which Dyvin Slorm had seen had spo-
ken of one also The battle was sure to be the forthcoming
one between Yishana's forces and those of Sarosto of Dhari-
Jor and Jagreen Lem of Pan Tang. If he was to find Zaro-
zinia then be must go with Dyvim Slonn and there take part
in UK conflict- Though he might perish, he reasoned that he
had best do as the omens ordered—otherwise he could lose
even the slight chance of ever seeing Zarozinia again. He
turned to his cousin.

28

Michael Moorcock

"111 make my way with you tomorrow, and use my blade
in the battle. Whatever else, I have the feeling that Yisbana
will need every warrior against the Theocrat and his allies."

Dyvim Slorm agreed. "Not only our doom but the doom of
nations will be at stake in this ..."

Three

Tea.terrible men drove their yellow chariots down a black
- mountain which vomited blue and scarlet fire and shook in a
spasm of destruction.

In such a manner, all over the globe, the forces of nature
were disrupted and rebellious. Though few realised it, the
earth was changing. The Ten knew why, and they knew of
Eiric and how their knowledge linked with him.

The night was pale purple and the sun hung a bloody globe
over the mountains, for it was late summer. In the valleys,
cottages were burning as smoking lava smacked against the
straw roofs.

Sepiriz, in the leading chariot, saw the villagers running, a
confused rabble—like ants whose hills had been scattered. He
turned to the blue-armoured man behind him and he smiled
almost gaily.

"See them run,** he said. "See them run, brother. Oh, the
joy of it—such forces there are at work!"

" Tia good to have woken at this time," his brother agreed,
abouting over the rumbling noise of the volcano.

Then the smile left Sepiriz and his eyes narrowed: He
lashed at his twin horses with a bull-hide whip, so that blood
laced the flanks of the great black steeds and they galloped
even faster down the steep mountain.

In the village, one man saw the Ten in the distance. He
•orieked, voicing his fear in a warning:

"The fire has driven them out of the mountain. Hide—es-
cape t The men from the volcano have awakened—they are
coming. The Ten have awakened according to the
prophecy—it is the end of the world!" Then the mountain
gushed a fresh spewing of hot rock and flaming lava and the
man was struck down, screamed as he burned and died. He
died needlessly, for the Ten had no interest in him or his fel-
lows.

29

30 Michael Moorcock

Sepiriz and his brothers rode straight through the village,
their chariot wheels rattling on the coarse street, the hooves
of their horses pounding.

Behind them, the mountain bellowed. "To Nihrainr cried
Sepiriz. "Speedily, brethren, for there is much work to do. A
blade must be brought from Limbo and a pair of men must
befcund to carry it to Xanyaw!"

Joy filled him as he saw the earth shuddering about him
and heard the gushing of fire and rock behind him. His black
body glistened, reflecting the flames of the burning houses.
The horses leaned in their harness, dragging the bucking
chariot at wild speed, their hooves blurred movement over
the ground so that it often seemed they flew.

Perhaps they did, for the steeds of Nihrain were known to
be different from ordinary beasts.

Now they flung themselves along a gorge, now up a moun-
tain path, making their speedy way towards the Chasm of
Nihrain, the ancient home of the Ten who had not returned
there for two thousand years.

Again, Sepiriz laughed. He and his brothers bore a terrible
responsibility, for though they had no loyalty to men or gods,
they were Fate's spokesmen and thus bore an awful
knowledge within their immortal skulls.

For centuries they had slept in their mountain chamber,
dwelling dose to the dormant heart of die volcano since ex'
tremes of heat and cold bothered them little. Now the spew-
ing rock had awakened them and they knew that their time
bad come—the time for which they had been waiting for mfl-
lenia.

This was why Sepriz sang in Joy. At last he and his broth-
ers were to be allowed to perform their ultimate functioo.
And this involved two Melniboneans, the two surviving mem-
bers of the Royal Line of the Bright Empire.

Sepiriz knew they lived—they had to be alive, for without
them Fate's scheme was impossible. But there were thorn
upon the earth, Sepiriz knew, who were capable of cheating
Fate, so powerful were they. Their miaions lay everywhere,
particularly among the new race of men, but ghouls and
demons were also their tools.

This made his chosen task the harder.

But now—to Nihrain! To the hewn city and there to draw
the threads of destiny into a finer net There was still a little

-STORMBRINGER            31

time, but it was running short; and Time the unknown* was
master of all...

The pavilions of Queen Yishaoa and her allies were grouped
thickly about a series of small, wooded hills. The trees
afforded cover from a distance and DO campfires burned to
give away their position. Also the sounds of the great army
were as muted as possible. Outriders went to and fro, report-
ing die enemy's positions and keeping wary eyes open for
spies.

.  But Eiric and his Imrryrians were unchallenged as they
rode in, for the albino and his men were easily recognisable
and it was well-known that the feared Melnibonean merco-
caries had elected to aid Yishana.

Eiric said to Dyvim Slorm: "I bad best pay my respects to
Queen Yisbana, on account of our old bond, but I do not
want her to know of my wife's disappearance—otherwise she
may try to hinder me. We shall just say that I have come to
aid her, out of friendship."

Dyvim Slorm nodded, and Brie left his cousin to tend to
making camp, while he went at once to Yishana's tent where
the tall queen awaited him impatiently.

The look in her eyes was shielded as he entered. She had a
heavy, sensuous face that was beginning to show signs of age-
ing. Her long hair was black and shone around her head. Her
breasts were large and her hips broader than Eiric remem-
bered. She was sitting in a padded chair and the table before
her was scattered with battle-maps and writing materials,
parchment, ink and quills.

"Good morning, wolf,*' said she with a half-smile that was
at ooce sardonic and provocative. "My scoots reported that
you were riding with your countrymen. This is pleasant Have
you forsaken your new wife to return to subtler pleasures?"
"No,*' he said.

He stripped off his heavy riding cloak and flung it on a
bench. "Good morning, Yishana. You do not change. Fve
half a suspicion that Theleb K'aama gave you a draught of
the waters of Eternal Life before I killed him.**
"Perhaps he did. How goes your marriage?"
**WeU," be said as she moved closer and he felt the warmth
of her body.

"And now Tm disappointed." she smiled ironically and
shrugged. They bad been lovers on different occasions, in

32 Michael Moorcock

spite of the fact that Eiric had been partially responsible for
her brother's death during the raid on Imrryr. Darmit of
Jharkor*s death had put her on tee throne and, being an am-
bitious woman, she had not taken the news with too much
sadness. Eiric bad no wish to resume the relationship, how-
ever.

He turned immediately to the matter of the forthcoming
battle.

"I see you're preparing for more man a skirmish,** he said.
*"What forces have you and what are your chances of win-
ning?**

There are my own White Leopards,** she told him. "five
hundred picked warriors who run as swiftly as horses, are as
strong as mountain cats and as ferocious as blood-mad
sharks—they are trained to kin and killing is all they know.
Then there are my other troops—infantry and cavalry, some
eighty Lords in command. The best cavalry are from Shazar,
wild riders but clever fighters and well-disciplined. Tarkesh
has sent fewer men since I understand King Hilran needed to
defend his southern borders against a heavy attack. However,
there are almost a thousand and fifty foot-soldiers and some
two hundred mounted men from Tarkesh. In all we can put
perhaps six thousand trained warriors on the field. Serfs,
slaves and the like are also fighting, but they will of course
serve only to meet me initial onslaught and will die in the
early part of the battle."

Eiric nodded. These were standard military tactics. "And
what of the enemy?"

"We have more numbers—but they have Dcva Riders and
hunting tigers. There are also some beasts they keep in
cages—but we cannot guess what they are since me cages are
covered."

"I heard mat me men of Mynhn are flying hither. The im-
port must be great for them to leave their eyries.**

**If we lose mis battle," she said gravely, "Chaos could eas-
ily engulf the earth and rule over ft. Every oracle from here
to Shazar says the same thing, that Jagreen Lern is but the
tool of less natural masters, that he is aided by the Lords of
Chaos. We we not only fighting for our lands, Eiric, we are
fighting for me human race!"

"Then let us hope we win," he said.

Eiric stood among the captains as they surveyed the mobi-
lising anny. Tall Dyvim Slonu was by his side, his golden

STORMBRINGER            33

shirt loose on his slim body and his manner confident, arro-
gant Also here were hardened soldiers of many smaller cam-
paigns; short, dark-faced men from Tarkesh with thick ar-
mour and black, oiled hair and beards. The half-naked winged
men from Myynhn had arrived, with their brooding eyes,
hawk-like faces, their great wings folded on their backs,
quiet, dignified, seldom speaking. The Shazariao commanders
were there also, in jackets of grey. brown and black, in rust-
coloured bronze armour. With them stood the captain of
Yishana*s White Leopards, a long-legged, thick-bodied man
with blond hair tied in a knot at the back of his bull-necked
head, silver armour bearing the emblazon of a leopard, albino
like Eiric, rampant and snarling.
The time of the battle was drawing close.. •

Now, in me grey dawn, tee two armies advanced upon
each other* coming from opposite ends of a wide valley.
Banked by low, wooded, hills.

The army of Pan Tang and Dhariior moved, a tide of dark
metal, up the shallow valley to meet them. Eiric, still unar-
rooured, watched as they approached, his horse stamping tho
turf. Dyvim Slonn, beside him, pointed and said: "Look—•
mere are the plotters—Sarosto on the left and Jagreen Lern
on the rightl**

The leaders headed their army, banners of daik silk rus-
tling above their helms. King Sarosto and his thin ally,
aquiline Jagreen Lena m glowing scarlet armour that seemed
to be red hot and may have been. On his helm was the Mer-
man Crest of Pan Tang, for the claimed kinship with the
sea-people. Sarosto's armour was dull, murky yellow, embla-
zoned with me Star of Dharijor upon which was the Cleft
Sword which history said was home by Sarosto's ancestor
Atarn the City-Builder.

Behind them, instantly observable, came the Devil Riders
of Pan Tang on their six-legged reptilian mounts, bred by sor-
cery it was said. Swarthy and with introspective expressions
on their sharp faces, they carried long, curved sabres, naked
at their belts. Prowling among them came over a hundred
hunting tigers, trained like dogs, with tusk-like teeth and
claws that could rend a roan to the bone with a single sweep.
Beyond the rolling army as it moved towards them, Eiric
could just see the tops of me mysterious cage-wagons. What
weird beasts did they contain, he wondered.

34                Michael Moorcock
Then Yishana shouted a command.

The archers' arrows spread a rattling black cloud above
them as Eiric led the first wave of infantry down the hill to
meet the van of the enemy army. That he should be forced to
risk his life embittered him, but if he was ever to discover
Zarozmia's whereabouts he had to play out his ordered part
and pray that he lived.

The main force of cavalry followed the infantry, flanking it
with orders to encircle the enemy if possible. Brightly dad
Irorryrians and bronze-armoured Shazarians were to one side.
Blue-armoured Tarkeshites with brilliant plumes of red,
purple and white, long lances levelled, and gold-armoured
Jharkorians, longswords already unscabbarded, galloped on
the other side. In the centre of Eiric's advance phalanx loped
Yishana's White Leopards and the queen herself rode beneath
her banner, behind the first phalanx, leading a battalion of
knights.

Down they rushed towards the enemy whose own arrows
rose upwards and then swept down to clash against helmets
or thud into flesh.

Now the sound ot war-shouts smashed through the still
dawn as they streaked down the slopes and clashed.

Eiric found himself confronting lean Jagreen Lern. and the
snarling Theocrat met Stonnbringer's swing with a flame-red
buckler which successfully protected him—proving the shield
to be treated against sorceroua weapons.

Jagreen Lem's features wrinkled into a malicious smile as
he recognised Eiric. "I was told you'd be here, Whiteface. I
know you Eiric and I know your doom!"

*Too many men appear to know my destiny better than I,"
said the albino. "But perhaps if I slay you, Theocrat, I may
force the secret from you before you die?"

"Oh, no! That is not my masters' plan at all."

"Well, mayhap 'tis mine!"

He struck again at Jagreen Lem, but again the blade was
turned, screaming its anger. He felt it move in his hand, felt
it throb with chagrin, for normally the hell-forged blade
could slice through metal however finely tempered.

In Jagreen Lena's gauntleted right hand was a huge war-
axe which he now swung at the unprotected head of Eiric's
horse. This was odd since he was in a position to strike at Ei-
ric himself. The albino jerked his steed's head to one side,

STORMBRINGER              35

avoided the blow and drove again point firet at Jagreen
Lcro's midriff. The runeblade shrieked as it failed to pierce
the armour. The war-axe swung again and Eiric brought up
his sword as protection but, in astonishment, was driven back
in his saddle by the force of the blow, barely able to control
bis horse, one foot slipping from the stirrup.

Jagreen Lern struck again and successfully split the skull
of Elric*s horse which crumpled to its knees, blood and brains
gushing, great eyes rolling as it died.

Flung from the beast, Eiric rose painfully and readied
himself for Jagreen Lern's next blow. But to his surprise,
the sorcerer-king turned away and moved into the thick of
the battle.

"Sadly your life is not mine to take, Whiteface! That is the
prerogative of other powers. If you live and we are the vic-
tors—I will seek you out, perhaps."

Unable, in his dazed condition, to make sense of this, Eiric
looked desperately around for another horse and saw a Dhar-
ijorian mount, its head and foreparts well protected by dented
black armour, running loose and away from the fight

Swiftly, he leapt for its harness and caught a dangling rein,
steadied the beast, got a foot into a stirrup and swung himself
up in the saddle which was uncomfortable for an unar-
moured man. Standing in the stirrups, Eiric rode it back into
the battle.

He hewed his way through the enemy knights, slaying now
a Devil Rider, now a hunting tiger that lashed at him with
bared fangs, now a gorgeously armoured Dharijorian com-
mander, now two foot-soldiers who struck at him with hal-
berds. His horse reared like a monster and. desperately, he
forced it closer to the standard of Yishana until be could see
one of the heralds.

Yishana's army was fighting bravely, but its discipline was
lost It must regroup if it was to be most effective.

"Recall the cavalryF Eiric yelled. "Recall the cflvafryF

The young herald looked up. He was badly pressed by two
Devil Riders. His attention diverted, he was skewered on a
Devil Rider's blade and shrieked as the two men butchered
him.

Cursing. Eiric rode closer and struck one of the attackers
in the side of the head. The man toppled and fell into the
churned mud of the field. The other Rider turned, only to

36 Michael Moorcock

meet howling Stormbringer'a point, and he died yelling, — the
runeblade dranic his soul.

The herald, still mounted, was dead in the saddle, his body
a mass of cuts. Eiric leaned forward, tearing toe bloody horn
from around the corpse's neck. Placing it to his lips, he
sounded the'Cavalry Recall and caught a glimpse of horse-
men turning. Now he saw the standard itself begin to fan and
realised that the standard-bearer was slain. He rose in the
saddle and grasped the pole which bore the bright flag of
Jharkor and, with this in one band, the horn at his Ups, at-
tempted to rally his forces.

Slowly, the remnants of the battered army gathered around
him. Then Eiric, taking control of the battle, did the only
thing he could—took the sole course of action which might
save the day.

He sounded a long, wailing note on the bom. In response
to this. he heard the beating of heavy wings as the men of
Myyrrhn rose into the air.

Observing this, the enemy released the traps of the mysteri-
ous cages.

Eiric groaned with despair.

A weird hooting preceded the sight of giant owls, thought
extinct even in Myyrrhn the land of their origin, circling sky-
ward.

The enemy had prepared against a threat from the air and,
by some means, had produced the age-old enemies of the
men of Myyrrhn.

Only slightly daunted by this unexpected sight, the men of
Myyrrhn, armed with long spears, attacked the great birds.
The embattled warriors on the ground were showered with
blood and feathers. Corpses of men and birds began to flop
downwards, crushing infantry and cavalry beneath them.

Through this confusion, Eiric and the White Leopards of
Yishana cut their way into the enemy to join up with Dyvim
Slorm and his Imrryrians, the remnants of the Tarkeshite
cavalry/and about a hundred Shazarians. who had survived.
Looking upward. Eiric saw that most of the great owls were
destroyed, but only a handful of the men of Myyrrhn had sur-
vived the fight in the air. These, having done what they could
against the owls, were themselves circling about preparing to
leave the battle. Obviously they realised the hopelessness of it
aU.

STORMBRINGER              37

Eiric cried to Dyvim Slorm as their forces joined: "The
battle's lost—Sarosto and Jagreen Lern rule here now!"

Dyvim Slorm hefted hL longsword in his hand and gave
Eiric a look of assent "If we're to live to keep our destiny.
we'd best make speed away from here!** he cried.

There was little more they could do.

"Zarozinia's life is more important to me than anything
else!" Eiric yelled. "Let's look to our own predicament!"

But the weight of the enemy forces was like a vice, crush-
ing Eiric and his men. Blood covered Eiric's face from a
blow he had received on the forehead. It clogged his eyes so
that he had to keep raising his left hand to his face to get rid
of the stuff.

His right arm ached as he lifted Stormbringer again and
again, hacking and stabbing about him, desperate now, for al-
though the dreadful blade had a life, almost an intelligence,
of its own, even it could not supply the vitality which Eiric
needed to remain entirely fresh. In a way he was glad, for be
hated the runesword, (hough he had to depend on the force
which flowed from it to him.

Stormbringer more than slew Elric*s attackers—it drank
(heir souls, and some of that life force was passed on to (he
Melniboneao monarch ...

Now the ranks or the enemy fell back and seemed to open.
Through this self-made breech, animals came running. Ani-
mals with gleaming eyes and red, fang-filled jaws. Animals
with claws.

The hunting tigers of Pan Tang.

Horses screamed as the tigers leapt and rended them, tear-
ing down mount and man and slashing at the throats of their
victims. The tigers raised bloody snouts and stared around for
a new prey. Terrified, many of Eiric's small force fell back
shouting. Most of the Tarkeshite knights broke and fled the
field, precipitating the flight of the Jharkorians whose mad-
dened horses bore them away and were soon followed by the
few remaining Shazarians still mounted. Soon only Eiric, his
Imrryrians and about forty White Leopards stood against the
might of DhariJor and Pan Tang.

Eiric raised his horn and sounded the Retreat, wheeled his
black steed about and raced up the valley. Imrryrians behind
him. But me White Leopards fought on to the last- Yishana
had said that they knew nothing but how to kill. Evidently
they also knew how to die.

38 Michael Moorcock

Eiric and Dyvim Slorm led the Imrryrians up the valley,
half-thankful that the white Leopards covered their retreat
The Melnibonean had seen nothing of Yishana since he had
clashed with Jagreen Lera. He wondered what had become of
her.

As they turned a bend in the valley. Brie understood the
foil battle-plan of Jagreen Lern and his ally—for a strong,
fresh force of foot-soldiers and cavalry had assembled at the
other end of the valley, for the purpose of cutting off any re-
treat made by bis army.

Scarcely thinking. Eiric urged his horse up the slopes of
the hills, his men following, ducking beneath the low
branches of the birch trees as the Dharijoriana rushed
towards them, spreading out to cut off their escape.

Eiric fumed his horse about and saw that the White Leop-
ards were still fighting around the standard of Jharkor and
he headed back in that direction, keeping to the hills. Over
the crest of the hills he rode, Dyvim Slorm and a handful of
Imrryrians with him, and then they were galloping for open
countryside while the knights of Dharijor and Pan Tang gave
chase. They had obviously recognised Eiric and wished either
to kill or to capture him-

Ahead Eiric could see that the Tarkeshites, Shazarians and
Jharkorians who had earlier fled had taken the same route
out as he had. But they no longer rode together, were scatter-
ing away.

Eiric and Dyvim Slorm fled westwards across unknown
country while the other Imrryrians. to take attention off their
leaders, rode to the north east towards Tarkesh and perhaps a
few days of safety.

The battle was won. The minions of evil were the victors
and an age of terror had settled on the lands of the Young
Kingdoms in the west

Some days later, Eiric. Dyvim Slorm, two hnrryrians. a
Tarkeshite commander called Yeda-pad-Juizev, badly wound-
ed in the side, and a Shazarian foot-soldier, Orion, who had
taken a horse away from the battle, were temporarily safe
from pursuit and were trudging their horses wearily towards
a range of slim-peaked mountains which loomed black
against the red evening sky.

They had not spoken for some hours. Yedn-pad-Juizev was

STORMBRINGER            39

obviously dyine and they could do nothing for him. He knew
this also and expected nothing, merely rode with them for
company. He was very tall for a Tarkeshite, his scarlet pli'me
still bobbing on his dented blue-metal helmet, his breastplate
scarred and smeared with his own blood and others*. His
beard was black and shiny with oil. his nose a juttin? crag on
the rock of his soldier's face, his eyes half-gazed- He was
bearing the pain well. Though they were impatient to reich
the comnarative safety of the mountain range, the others
matched their pace to his, half in respect and half in fascina-
tion that a man could cling to life for so long-
Night came and a great yellow moon hung in the sky over
the mountains. The sky was completely clear of cloud and
stars shone brightly. The warriors wished that the night had
been dark. storm-covered, for they could have then soneht
more security in the shadows- As it was the night was lieMed
and they could only hope that they reached the mountains
soon—before the hunting tigers of Pan Tang discovered their
tracks and they died under the rending claws of those dread-
ful beasts.

Eiric was in a grim and thoughtful mood. For a while the
Dhariiorian and Pin Tane conauerors would be busy consoli-
dating their new-won empire. Perhaps there would be quar-
rels between them when this was done. perhaps not. But
soon, anyway, they would be very powerful and threatening
the security of other nations on the Southern and Eastern
Continents-
But all this, however much it overshadowed the fate of the
whole world, meant little to Eiric for he still could not clearly
see his way to Zarozinia. He remembered the dead creature's
prophecy, part of which had now come about But still it
meant little. He felt as if he were being driven constantly
westwards, as if he must go further and further into the
sparsely-settled lands beyond Jharkor. Was it here his destiny
lay? Was it here that Zarozinia's captors were? Beyond the
ocean brews a battle; Beyond the battle blood shall fall...

Well, had the blood fallen, or was it yet to fall? What waa
the *twin' that EIric's kinsman, Dyvim Slorm, bore? Who was
the one who should not live?

Perhaps the secret lay in the mountains ahead of them?
Beneath the moon they rode, and at last came to a gorge.

40 Michael Moorcock

Half-way along It they located a cave and lay down inside to
rest.

In the morning, Brie was awakened by a sound outside the
cave. Instantly he drew Stonnbringer and crept to the mouth
of the cave. What he saw caused him to sheathe the blade
and call in a soft voice to the battered man who was riding
up the gorge towards the cave. "Here, herald! We are
friends!"

The man was one of Yishana's heralds. His surcoat was in
ribbons, bis armour crumpled on his body. He was swordlesa
and without a helmet, a young man with bis face made gaunt
by weariness and despair. He looked up and relief came
when he recognised Eiric.

"My lord Eiric—they said you were slain on the field."

"I'm glad they did, since that makes pursuit less likely.
Come inside."

The others were awake now—all but one. Yedn-pad-Juizev
had died, sleeping, in the night Orozn yawned and jerked a
thumb at the corpse. "If we do not find food soon. 111 be
tempted to eat our dead friend."

The man looked at Brie for response to this jest, but
seeing the albino's expression be was abashed and retreated to
the depths of the cave grumbling and kicking at loose stones.

Eiric leant against the wall of the cave near the opening.
"What news have you?" he asked.

"Dark news, my lord. From Shazar to Tarkesh black
misery prevails and iron and fire beat across nations like an
unholy storm. We are fully conquered. Only small bands of
men carry on a hopeless struggle against the enemy. Some of
our folk are already talking of turning bandit and preying on
each other, so desperate have times become.**

Eiric nodded. "Such is what happens when foreign allies
are beaten on friendly soil. What of Queen Yishana?"

"She fared ill, my lord. Clad in metal, she battled against a
score of men before expiring—her body torn asunder by the
force of their attack. Sarosto took her bead for a keepsake
and added it to other trophies including the hands of Kamari,
his half-brother who opposed him over the Pan Tang alliance,
the eyes of Peoik of Nargesser, who raised an army against
him in that province. Theocrat Jagreen Lero ordered that all
other prisoners be tortured to death and hanged in chains

STORMBRINGER            41

through the lands as warning against insurrection. They are
an unholy pair, my lordt*

Eiric's mouth grew tight when he heard this. Already h
was becoming clear to him that his only route was westwards,
for the conquerors would soon search him out if he went
back. He turned to Dyvim Slonn. The Imrryrian's shirt was
in raffs and his left arm covered in dried blood.

"Our destiny appears to lie in the west," he said quietly.

"Then let us make speed," said his cousin, "for I am impa-
tient to get it over and at least learn whether we live or per-
ish in this enterprise. We gained nothing by our encounter
with the enemy, but wasted time."

"I pained something." Eiric said, remembering his fight
with Jagreen Lern. "I gained the knowledge that Jagreen
Lern is connected in some way with the kidnapping of my
wife—and if he had aught to do with it, I'll claim my ven-
geance no matter what."

"Now," said Dyvim Slonn. "Let us make haste to the
west"

Four

They drove deeper into the mountains that day, avoiding the
few hunting parties sent out by the conquerors, but the two
Imrryriaas. recognising that their leaders were on a special
journey, left to go in another direction. The herald was gone
southward to spread his gloomy news so that only Eiric,
Dyvim Slorm and Orozn were left. They did not welcome
Orozn's company, but bore with it for the meanwhile.

Then, after a day, Orozn disappeared and Eiric and Dyvim
Slorm ranged deeper into the black crags, riding through tow-
ering. oppressive canyons or along narrow paths.

Snow lay on the mountains, bright white against sharp
black, filling gorges, making paths slippery and dangerous.
Then one evening they came to a place where the mountains
opened out into a wide valley and they rode, with difficulty
down the foothills of the mountains, their tracks making
great black scars in the snow and their horses steaming, their
breath billowing white in the cold air.

They observed a rider coming across the valley floor
towards them. One rider they did not fear, so they waited for
him to approach. To their surprise it was Orozn, clad in fresh
garments of wolfskin and deer hide. He greeted them in a

friendly manner.

"I have come seeking you both. You must have taken a
more difficult route than mine."

"From where have you come?" Eiric asked; his face was
drawn, his cheek-bones emphasised by the sunken skin. He
looked more like a wolf than ever with his red eyes gleaming.
Zarozinia's fate weighed heavily on his mind.

'There is a settlement nearby. Come, I will take you to it"

They followed Orozn for some way and it was getting near
nightfall, the setting sun staining the mountains scarlet, when
they reached the opposite side of the valley, dotted with a
few birch trees and, further up, a cluster of firs.
42

STORMBRINGER
Orozn led them into this grove.

43

They came screaming out of the dark. a dozen swarthy
men. possessed by hatred—and something else. Weapons
were raised in mailed hands. By their armour, these men
were from Pan Tang. Orozn must have been captured and
persuaded to lead Eiric and his cousin into ambush.

Eiric turned his horse, rearing.

"Orozn! You betrayed us!"

But Orozn was riding. .He looked back once, his pale face
tortured with guilt. Then his eyes darted away from Eiric and
Dyvim Slorm and he frowned, rode down the moss-wet hill
back into the howling darkness of the night

Eiric lifted Stormbringer from his belt, gripped the hut,
blocked a blow from a brass-studded mace, slid his sword
down the handle and sheared off his attacker's fingers. He
and Dyvim Slorm were soon surrounded, yet he fought on,
Stormbringer shrilling a wild, lawless song of death.

But Eiric and Dyvim Slorm were still weak from the
rigours of their past adventures. Not even Stormbringer's evil
strength was sufficient fully to revitalise Eiric's deficient veins
and he was filled with fear—sot of the attackers, but of the
fact that he was doomed to die or be captured. And he had
the feeling that these warriors had no knowledge of their
master's pan in the matter of the prophecy, did not realise
that, perhaps, he was not meant to die at that moment

In fact he decided, as he battled, a great mistake was
about to be perpetrated ...

"AriochI" he cried in his fear to the demon-god of Melni-
bone. "Arioch! Aid me! Blood and souls for thine aidi"

But that intractable entity sent no aid.

Dyvim Slorm's long blade caught a man Just below bis gor-
get and pierced him through the throat The other Pan Tang
horsemen threw themselves at him but were driven back by
his sweeping sword. Dyvim Slorm shouted: "Why do we wor-
ship such a god when whim decides him so often?"

"Perhaps he thinks our time has come!" Eiric yelled back
as his runeblade drank another foe's life-force.

Tiring fast, they fought on until a new sound broke above
the clash of arms—the sound of chariots and low, moaning
cries.

Then they were sweeping into the m€l6e black men with
handsome features and thin, proud mouths, their magnificent

44 Michael Moorcock

bodies half-naked as their cloaks of white fox fur streamed
behing them and their javelins were flung with terrible a&-
curacy at the bewildered men of Pan Tang.

Eiric sheathed his sword and remained ready to fight or
flee. "This is the one—the white-faced one!" cried a black
charioteer as he saw Eiric. The chariots rolled to a halt, tall
horses stamping and snorting. Eiric rode up to the leader.'

"I am grateful," he said, half falling from his saddle in
weariness. He turned the droop of his shoulders into a bow.
"You appear to know me—you are the third I've met while
on this quest who recognises me without my being able to re-
turn the compliment."

The leader tugged the fox cape about his naked chest and
smiled with his thin lips. "I'm named Sepiriz and you will
know me soon enough. As for you, we have known of you
for thousands of years. Eiric are you not—last king of Melni-
bone?"

"That is true."

"And you," Sepiriz addressed Dyvhn Slorm. "are Eiric's
cousin. Together you represent the last of the pure line of
Melnibone.**

"Aye," Dyvim Slorm agreed, curiosity in his eyes.

"Then we have been waiting for you to pass this way.
There was a prophecy..."

"You are the captors of Zarozinia?** Eiric reached for his
sword.

Sepiriz shook his head. "No, but we can tell you where she
is. Calm yourself. Though I realise the agony of mind you
must be suffering, I will be better able to explain all I know
back in our own domain."

"First tell us who you are," Eiric demanded.

Sepiriz smiled slightly. "You know us. I think—or at least
you know of us. There was a certain friendship between your
ancestors and our folk in the early years of the Bright Em-
pire." He paused a moment before continuing: "Have you
ever heard legends, in Irorryr perhaps, of the Ten from the
mountain? The ten who sleep in the mountain of fire?"

"Many times." Eiric drew in his breath. "Now I recognise
you by description. But it is said that you sleep for centuries
in the mountain of fire. Why are you roaming abroad in this
manner?"

"We were driven by an eruption from our volcano home
which had been dormant for two thousand years. Such move-

STORMBRINGER            45

menta of nature have been taking place an over the earth of
late. Our time, we knew, had come to awaken again. We
were servants of Fate—and our mission is strongly bound up
with your destiny. We bear a message for you from Zaro-
zinia's captor—and another from a different source. Would
you return now, with us, to the Chasm of Nihrain xnd learn
alt we can tell you?"

Eiric pondered for a moment, then he lifted his white face
and said: "I am in haste to claim vengeance, Sepiriz. But if
what you can tell me will lead me closer to claiming it. 111
come."

•Then come!" The black giant Jerked the reins of his horse
and turned the chariot about

It was a journey of a day and a night to the Chasm of
Nihrain, a huge gaping fissure high in the mountains, a place
avoided by all; it had supernatural significance for those who
dwelt near the mountains.

The lordly Nihrain conversed little on the Journey and at
last they were above the Chasm, driving their chariots down
the steep path which wound into its dark depths.

About half a mile down no light penetrated, but they saw
ahead of them flickering torches that illuminated part of the
carved outline of an unearthly mural or betrayed a gaping
opening in the solid rock. Then, as they guided their horses
down further, they saw, in detail, the awe-inspiring city of
Nihrain which outsiders had not glimpsed for many centuries.
The last of the Nihrain now lived here; ten immortal men of
a race older even than that of Memibone which had a history
of twenty thousand years.

Huge columns rose above mem, hewn ages before from the
living rock, giant statues and wide balconies, many-tiered.
Windows a hundred feet high and sweeping steps cut into the
face of the chasm. The Ten drove their yellow chariots
through a mighty gate and into the caverns of Nihrain.
carved to their entire extent with strange symbols and
Uranger murals. Here slaves, wakened from a sleep of cen-
turies to tend their masters, ran forward. Even these did not
fully bear resemblance to the men that Eiric knew.

Sepiriz gave the reins to a slave as Eiric and Dyvim Slorm
dismounted, staring about them in awe-
He said: "Now—to my own chambers and there ITl in-

46 Michael Moorcock

form you of what you wish to know—and what you must

do."

Led by Sepiriz, the kinsmen stalked impatiently through
galleries and into a large chamber full of dark sculpture. A
number of fires burned behind this hall, in big grates. Sepiriz
folded his great body into a chair and bade them sit in two
similar chairs, carved from solid blocks of ebony. When they
were all seated before one of the fires, Sepiriz took a long
breath, staring around the hall, perhaps remembering its ear-
lier history.

Somewhat angered by this show of casualness, Eiric said
impatiently: "Forgive me, Sepiriz—but you promised to pass
on your message to us."

"Yes," Sepiriz said, "but so much do I have to tell you that
I must pause one moment to collect my thoughts." He settled
himself in the chair before continuing.

"We know where your wife, is," he said at last, "and know
also that she is safe. She will not be harmed since she is to be
bargained for something which you possess."

"Then tell me the whole story," Eiric demanded bleakly.

"We were friendly with your ancestors. Eiric. And we were
friendly with those they superseded, the ones who forged that
blade you bear."

Eiric was interested in spite of his anxiety. For years he
had attempted to rid himself of the runesword, but had never
succeeded. All his efforts had failed and he still needed to
carry it, although drugs now gave him most of his strength.

"Would you be rid of your sword, Eiric?" Sepiriz said.

"Aye—it's well known."

"Then listen to this tale.

"We know for whom and for what the blade—and its
twin—were forged. They were made for a special purpose
and for special men. Only Melniboneans may carry them,
and of those only the blood of the royal line."

"There is no hint of any special purpose for the swords in
Melnibonean history or legend," Eiric said leaning forward.

"Some secrets are best kept fully guarded," Sepiriz said
calmly. "Those blades were forged to destroy a group of very
powerful beings. Among them are the Dead Gods."

The Dead Gods—but, by their very name, you must
know that they perished long ages ago."

"They 'perished* as you say. In human terms they are
dead. But they chose to die, chose to rid themselves of

STORMB RINGER              47

material shape and hurled their life-stuff into the blackness of
eternity, for in those days they were full of fear."

Eiric had DO real conception of what Sepiriz described but
he accepted what the Nihrainian said and listened on.

"One of them has returned," Sepiriz said.

•Whyr

"To get, at any cost, two things which endanger him and
his fellow gods—wherever they may be they can still be
harmed by these things.'*

"They are... ?"

They have the earthly appearance of two swords, rune-
carved and sorcerous—Moumblade and Stormbringer."

Thisr Eiric touched his blade. "Why should the gods fear
this? And the other went to Limbo with my cousin Yyrkoon
whom I killed many years ago. It is lost"

"That is not true. We recovered it—that was part of Fate's
purpose for us. We have it here in Nihrain. The blades were
forged for your ancestors who drove the Dead Gods away by
means of them. They were made by other uohuman smiths
who were also enemies of the Dead Gods. These smiths were
compelled to combat evil with evil, although they, themselves,
were not pledged to Chaos, but to Law. They forged the
swords for several reasons—ridding the world of the Dead
Gods was but one!"

The other reasons?"

Those you shall learn in times to come—for our relation-
ship will not be ended until the whole destiny has been
worked out We are obliged not to reveal the other reasons
until the proper time. You have a dangerous destiny, Eiric,
and I do not envy it"

"But what is the message you have?" Eiric said impa-
tiently.

"Due to the disturbance created by Jagreen Lern, one of
the Dead Gods has been enabled to return to earth, as I told
you. He has gathered acolytes about him. They kidnapped
your wife."

Eiric felt a mood of deep despair creep over him. Must he
defy such power as this?

"Why... ?" he whispered.

"Darnizhaan is aware that Zarozinia is important to you.
He wishes to barter her for the two swords. We, in this mat-
ter, are merely messengers. We must give up the sword we
keep at the request of you or Dyvim Slorm, for they right-

48 Michael Moorcock

folly belong to any of the royal line. Damizhaan's terms are
simple. He will dispatch Zarozinia to Limbo unles» you give
him the blades which threaten bis existence. Her death, it
would not be death as we know it, would be unpleasant and
eternal."

"And if I agreed to do that, what would happen?"

"All the Dead Gods would return. Only the power of the
swords keeps them from doing so now!"

"And what would happen if the Dead Gods came back?"

"Even without the Dead Gods, Chaos threatens to conquer
the planet, but with them it would be utterly invincible, its
effect immediate. Evil would sweep the worid. Chaos would
plunge this earth into a stinking inferno of terror and destruc-
tion. You have already had a taste of what is happening, and
Damizhaan has only been back for a short time."

"You mean the defeat of Yishana's armies and the con-
quest by Sarosto and Jagreeo Lero?"

"Exactly. Jagreen Lem has a pact with Chaos—all the
Lords of Chaos, not merely the Dead Gods—for Chaos fears
Fate's plan for earth's future and would attempt to tamper
with it by gaining domination of our planet The Lords of
Chaos are strong enough without the help of the Dead Gods.
Damizhaan must be destroyed.**

"I have an impossible choice, Sepiriz. If I give up
Stonnbringer I can probably survive on herbs and the like.
But if I do give it up for Zarozinia, then Chaos will be un-
leashed to its full extent and I will have a monstrous crime
upon my conscience.**

"The choice is yours alone to make.**

Eiric deliberated but could think of no way of solving the
problem.

"Bring the other Made," he said at last.

Sepiriz rejoined them a while later, with a scabbarded
sword that seemed little different from Stormbriager.

"So, Eiric—is the prophecy explained?" he asked, still
keeping hold of Moumblade.

"Aye—here is the twin of that I bear. But the last part—
where are we to go?"

"I wiB tell you in a moment Though the Dead Gods, and
the powers of Chaos, are aware that we possess the sister
blade, they do not know whom we really serve. Pate, as I
told you, is our master, and Fate has wrought a fabric for

yrORMBKIN GER               49

this earth which would be hard to alter. But it could be al-
tered and we are entrusted to see that Fate is not cheated.
You are about to undergo a test How you fare in it, what
your decision is, will decide what we must tell you upon your
return to Nihrain."

"You wish me to return here?"
"Yes.**

"Give me Moumblade," Eiric said quickly.
Sepiriz handed him the sword and Eiric stood there with
one twin blade in each hand, as if weighing something be-
tween them.

Both blades seemed to moan in recognition aod their pow-
ers swam through his body so that he seemed to be built of
steel-hard fire.

"I remember now that I hold them both that their powers
are greater than I realise. There is one quality they possess
when paired, a quality we may be able to use against this
Dead God." He frowned. "But more of that in a moment."
He stared sharply at Sepiriz. "Now tell me, where is Dam-
izhaan?"

"The Vale of Xanyaw in Myyrrhn!"

Eiric handed Moumblade to Dyvim Slorm who accepted it
gingerly.

"What will your choice be?" Sepiriz asked.
"Who knows?" Eiric said with bitter gaiety. "Perhaps there
is a way to beat this Dead God ...

"But I tell you this, Sepiriz—given the opportunity I shall
make that God rue his homecoming, for he has done the one
thing that can move me to real anger. And the anger of Eiric
of Melnibone and his sword Stonnbringer can destroy the
world!"

Sepiriz rose from his chair, his eyebrows lifting.
"And gods, Eiric, can it destroy gods?"

Five

Eiric rode like a giant scarecrow, gaunt and rigid on the mas-
sive back of the Nihramian steed. His grim face was set fast
in a mask that hid emotion and his crimson eyes burned like
coals in their sunken socket*. The wind whipped his hair this
way and that, but he sat straight, staring ahead, one long-fin-
gered hand gripping Stonnbringer's hilt.

Occasionally Dyvim Slonn, who bore Moumblade both
proudly and warily, heard the blade moan to its sister and felt
it shudder at his side. Only later did he begin to ask himself
what the blade might make him, what it would give him and
demand of him. After that, he kept his hand away from it as
much as possible.

Close to the borders of Myyrrhn, a pack of Dharijorian
hirelings—native Jharkorians in the livery of their con-
querors—came upon them. Unsavoury louts they were, who
should have known better than to ride across EIric's path.
They steered their horses towards the pair, grinning. The
black plumes of their helmets nodded, armour straps creaked
and metal clanked. The leader, a squint-eyed bully with an
axe at his belt, pulled his mount short in front of Eiric.

At a direction from its master, the albino's horse came to a
stop. His expression unchanged, Eiric drew Stonnbringer in
an economic, catlike gesture. Dyvim Slonn copied him, eye-
ing the silently laughing men. He was surprised at how easily
the blade sprang from its scabbard.

Then, with no challenges, Eiric began to fight

He fought like an automaton, quickly, efficiently, ex-
pressionlessly, cleaving the leader's shoulder plate in a stroke
that cut through the man from shoulder to stomach in one
raking movement which peeled back armour and flesh, rup-
turing the body so that a great scarlet gash appeared in the
black metal and the leader wept as he slowly died, sprawling
50

STORMBRINGER            51

for a moment over his horse before slumping from the
mount one leg high. caught in a stirrup strap.

Stonnbringer let out a great metallic purr of pleasure and
Eiric directed arm and blade about him, emofionlessly slaving
the horsemen as if they were unarmed and chained, so little
chance did they have.

Dyvim Slonn unused to the semi-sentient Moumblade,
tried to wield her like an ordinary sword but she moved in
his hand, making cleverer strokes than he. A peculiar sense
of power, at once sensual and cool poured into him and he
heard his voice veiling exultantly, realised what his ancestors
must have been like in war.

The fight was quickly done with and leaving the soul-
drained corpses on the ground behind them, they were soon
in the land of Myyrrhn. Both blades had now been com-
monly blooded.

Eiric was now better able to think and act coherently, but
he could spare nothing for Dyvim Slonn while intratempor"
ally asking nothing of his cousin who rode at his side, frus-
trated in that he was not called upon for his help.

Eiric let his mind drift about in time, encompassing past,
present and future and forming it into a whole—a pattern.
He was suspicious of pattern, disliking shape, for he did not
trust it. To him. life was chaotic, chance-dominated, unpre-
dictable. It was a trick, an illusion of the mind, to be able to
see a pattern to it.

He knew a few things, judged nothing.

He knew he bore a sword which physically and pyschologi-
cally he needed to bear. It was an unalterable admission of a
weakness in him, a lack of confidence in either himself or the
philosophy of cause and effect. He believed himself a realist

Through the bleak night they rode, buffeted by a vicious
wind.

And as they came closer to the Vale of Xanyaw, the whole
sky, the earth, the air became filled with heavy, throbbing
music. Melodious, sensual, great chords of sound, on and on
it rose and fell, and following it came me white-faced ones.

Each had a black cowl and a sword which split at the end
into three curved barbs. Each grinned a fixed grin. The music
followed them as they came running like mad things at the
two men who reined in their horses, restraining the urge to
turn and flee. Eiric had seen horrors in his life, ,had seen

52

Michael Moorcock

much that would make others insane, but for some reason
these shocked him more deeply than any. They were men, or-
dinary men by the look of them—but men possessed by an
unholy spirit

Prepared to defend themselves, Eiric and Dyvim Slonn
drew their blades and waited for the encounter, but none
came. The music and the men rushed past them and away
beyond them in the direction from which they had come.

Overhead, suddenly, they heard the beat of wings, a shriek
from out of the sky and a ghastly wail. Fleeing, two women
rushed by and Eiric was disturbed to sec that the women
were from the winged race of Myyrrhn, but were wingless.
These, unlike a woman Eiric remembered, had had their
wings deliberately hacked off. They paid no attention to the
two riders, but disappeared, running into the night, their eyes
blank and their faces insane.

"What is happening, Eiric?" cried Dyvim Slorm, resheath-
ing bis mneblade, his other hand striving to control the
prancing horse.

"I know not What does happen in a place where the Dead
Gods' rule has come back?"

All was rushing noise and confusion; the night was full of
movement and terror.

"Come!" Eiric slapped bis sword against his mount's rump
and sent the beast into a jerking gallop, forcing himself and
the steed forward into the terrible night

Then mighty laughter greeted them as they rode between
hills into the Vale of Xanyaw. The valley was pitch-black; and
alive with menace, the very hills seeming sentient They
slowed theif pace as they lost their sense of direction, and Ei-
ric had to call to his unseen cousin, to make sure he was still
close. The echoing laughter sounded again, roaring from out
of the dark, so that the earth shook. It was as if the whole
planet laughed in ironic mirth at their efforts to control their
fears and push on through the valley.

Eiric wondered if he had been betrayed and this was a trap
set by the Dead Gods. What proof had he that Zarozina was
here? Why had he trusted Sepiriz? Something slithered
against his leg as it passed him and he put his hand on the
hilt of his sword, ready to draw it

But then, shooting upwards into the dark sky, there arose,
seemingly from the very earth, a huge figure which barred
their way. Hands on hips, wreathed in golden light, a face of

53

STORMBRINGER

an ape, somehow blended with another shape to give it dig-
nity and wild grandeur, its body alive and dancing with
colour and light, its lips grinning with delight and
knowledge—Damizhaan, the Dead Godt

"Finer

"Darnizhaan!" cried Eiric fiercely, craning his head to stare
up at the Dead God's face. He felt no fear now. "I have
come for my wife!"

Around the Dead God's heels appeared acolytes with wide
lips and pale, triangular faces, conical caps on their heads
and madness in their eyes. They giggled and shrilled and
shivered in the light of Damizhaan*s grotesque and beautiful
body. They gibbered at the two riders and mocked them, but
,. they did not move away from the Dead God's heels.
^   Eiric sneered. "Degenerate and pitiful minions." he said.
If   "Not so pitiful as you, Eiric of Melnibon6." laughed the
^ Dead God. "Have you come to bargain, or to give your
•f wife's soul into my custody, so that she may spend eternity
s dying?"
"'    Eiric did not let his hate show on his face.

"I would destroy you; it is instinctive for me to do so.
But—**

The Dead God smiled, almost with pity. "You roust be
destroyed, Eiric. You are an anachronism. Your Time is
gone.'*

"Speak for yourself, Darnizhaan!"

"I could destroy you."

"But you will not." Though passionately hating the being,
Eric also felt a disturbing sense of comradeship for the Dead
God. Both of them represented an age that was gone; neither
were really part of the new earth.

Then I wfll destroy her." the Dead God said. "That I
could do with impunity."

"Zarozinia! Where is she?"

Once again Damizhaan's mighty laughter shook the Vale
of Xanyaw. *'0h, what have the old folk come to? There was
a time when no man of Melnibon6, particularly of the royal
line, would admit to caring for another mortal soul, especially
if they belonged to the beast-race, the new race of the age
you call that of the Young Kingdoms. What? Are you mating
with animals. King of Melnibon6? Where is your blood, your
cruel and brilliant blood? Where the glorious malice? Where
Ac evil. Eiricr*

54

Michael Moorcock

Peculiar emotions stirred in Eiric as he remembered hfs an-
cestors, the sorcerer emperors of the Dragon Isle. He realised
that the Dead God was deliberately awakening these emo-
tions and, with an effort, be refused to let them dominate
him.

*That is past,** he shouted, "a new time has come upon the
earth. Our time wifl soon be gone—and yours is over/**

"No, Eiric. Mark my words, whatever happens. The dawn
is over and will soon be swept away like dead leaves before
the wind of morning. The earth's history has not even begun.
You, your ancestors, these men of the new races even, you
are nothing but a prelude to history. You will all be forgotten
if the real history of the world begins. But we can avert
that—we can survive, conquer the earth and hold it against
the Lords of Law, against Fate herself, against the Cosmic
Balance—we can continue to live, but you must give me the
awords!**

"I fail to understand you," Eiric said, his lips thin and his
teeth tight in his skull. "I am here to bargain or do battle for
my wife."

"You do not understand," the Dead God guffawed, **be-
causc we are all of us, gods and men, but shadows pl&ying
puppet parts before the true play begins. You would best not
fight me—rather side with me, for I know the truth. We
share a common destiny. We do not, any of us, exist The old
folk are doomed, you, myself and my brothers, unless you
give me the swords. We must not fight one another. Share
our frightful knowledge—the knowledge that turned us in-
sane. There is nothing. Eiric—no past, present, or future. We
do not exist, any of usF

Eiric shook his head quickly. "I do not understand you.
still. I would not understand you if I could. I desire only the
return of my wife—not baffling conundrums!"

Damizhaan laughed again. "No! You shall not have the
woman unless we are given control of the swords. You do
not realise their properties. They were not only designed to
destroy us or exile us—their destiny is to destroy the world as
we know it If you retain them, Eiric, you will be responsible
for wiping out your own memory for those who come after
you."

"I'd welcome that," Eiric said,
Dyvim SIorm remained silent, not altogether in sympathy

STORMBRINGER.

55

with Eiric. The Dead God's argument seemed to contain

truth.

Damizhaan shook his body so that the golden light danced
and its area widened momentarily. "Keep the swords and all
of us will be as we had never existed," he said impatiently.

"So be it," Elric*s tone was stubborn, "do you think I wish
the memory to live on—the memory of evil, ruin and
destruction? The memory of a man with deficient blood in his
veins—a man called Friendslayer, Woman-slayer and many
other such names?"

Damizhaan spoke urgently, almost in terror. "Eiric, you
have been duped! Somewhere you have been given a con-
science. You must join with us. Only if the Lords of Chaos
can establish their reign will we survive. If they fail, we shall

'• be obliterated!"

^ "Goodr

\   "Limbo, Eiric. Limbo! Do you understand what that

'<- means?"

•.   "1 do not care- Where is my wife?"

;   Eiric blocked the truth from his mind, blocked out the ter-
ror in the meaning of the Dead God's words. He could not
afford to listen or fully to comprehend. He must save Zaro-
zinia.

"I have brought the swords," said he, "and wish my wife to
be returned to me."

"Very well," the Dead God smiled hugely in his relief. "At
least if we keep the blades, in their true shape, beyond the
earth, we may be able to retain control of the world. In your
hands they could destroy not only us but you, your world, all
that you represent. Beasts would rule the earth for millions of
years before the age of intelligence began again. And it
would be a duller age than this. We do not wish it to occur.
But if you had kept the swords, it would have come about al-
most inevitably!"

"Oh. be silent!" Eiric cried. "For a god, you talk too much.
Take the swords—and give me back my wife!"

At the Dead God's command, some of the acolytes scam-
pered away. Eiric saw their gleaming bodies disappear into
the darkness. He waited nervously until they returned, carry-
ing the struggling body of Zarozinia. They set her on the
ground and Eiric saw that her face bore the blank look of
•hock.

"Zaroziniaf

56

Michael Moorcock

The giri*s eyea roamed about before they saw Eiric. She be-
gan to move towards him* but the acolytes held her bade, gig-
gling.

Darnizhaan stretched forward two gigantic, glowing hands.

"The swords first.*'

Biric and Dyvim Slorm put them into his hands. The Dead
God straightened up, clutching his prizes and roaring his
mirth. ZarozJnia was now released and she ran forward to
grasp her husband's hand, weeping and trembling. Eiric leant
down and stroked her hair. too disturbed to say anything.

Then he turned to Dyvim Slorffl, shouting: "Let us see if
our plan will work, cousin!"

Eiric stared up at Stormbringer writhing in Daraizhaan*8
grasp. "Stormbringer! Kerana soliem, o'glara . . .**

Dyvim Slorm also called to Moumblade in the Ancient
Tongue of Melnibone, the mystic, sorcerous tongue which
had been used for rune-casting and demon-raising all through
Melnibone's twenty thousand years of history.

Together, they commanded the blades, as if they were ac-
tually wielding them in their hands, so that merely by
shouting orders, Eiric and Dyviro Slorm began their work.
This was the remembered quality of born blades when paired
in a common fight The blades twisted in Darnizhaan's glow-
ing hands. He started backwards, his shape faltering, some-
times manlike, sometimes beastlike, sometimes totally alien.
But he was evidently horrified, this god.

Now the swords wrenched themselves from the clutching
hands and turned on him. He fought against them, fending
them off as they wove about io the air, whining malevolently,
triumphantly, attacking him with vicious power. At Eiric's
command, Stormbringer slashed at the supernatural being
and Dyvim Slorm's Moumblade followed its example. Be-
cause the ruaeblades were also supernatural, Darnizhaan was
harmed dreadfully whenever they struck his form.

"Eiric!" he raved, "Eiric—you do not know what you are
doing! Stop them! Stop them; You should have listened more
carefully to what I told you. Stop them!"

But Eiric in his hate and malice urged on the blades, made
them plunge into the Dead God's being time after time so
that his shape sometimes faltered, faded, the colours of its
bright beauty dulling. The acolytes fled upwards into the vale,
convinced that their lord was doomed. Their lord, also, was
so convinced. He made one lunge towards the mounted men

STORMBRINGER            57

and then the fabric of his being began to shred before the
blades* attack; wisps of his body-stuff seemed to break away
and drift into the air to be swallowed by the black night

Viciously and ferociously, Eiric goaded the blades while
Dyvim Slorm's voice blended with his in a cruel joy to see
die bright being destroyed.

"Foolsr he screamed, "in destroying me, you destroy
yourselvesf*

But Eiric did not listen and at last there was nothing left of
the Dead God and the swords crept back to lie contentedly in
their masters' hands.

Quickly, with a sudden shudder, Eiric scabbarded Storm-
bringer.

He dismounted and helped his girl-wife on to the back of
his great stallion and then swung up into the saddle again. It
was very quiet in the Vale of Xanyaw.

Six

Three people, bent in their saddles with weariness, reached
the Chasm of Nihrain days later. They rode down the twist-
ing paths into the black depths of the mountain city and
were there welcomed by Sepiriz whose face was grave.
though his words were encouraging.

"So you were successful, Eiric,*' he said with a small smile.

Eiric paused while he dismounted and aided Zarozinia
down. He turned to Sepriz. "I am not altogether satisfied with
this adventure," he said grimly, "though I did what I had to
in order to save my wife. I would speak with you privately,
Sepiriz."

The black Nihrainian nodded gravely. "When we have
eaten," he said, "we will talk alone."

They walked wearily through the galleries,, noting that
there was considerably more activity in the city now, but
there was no sign of Sepiriz's nine brothers. He explained
their absence as he led Eiric and his companions towards his
own chamber. "As servants of Fate they have been called to
another plane where they can observe something of the
several different possible futures of the earth and thus keep
me informed of what I must do here."

They entered the chamber and found food ready and,
when they had satisfied their hunger, Dyvim Slonn and Zaro-
zinia left the other two.

The fire from the great hearth blazed. Eiric and Sepiriz sat
together, unspeakiog, hunched in their chairs.

At last, without preamble, Eiric told Sepiriz the story of
what had happened, what he remembered of the Dead God's
words, how they had disturbed him—even struck him as
being true.

When he had finished, Sepiriz nodded. "It is so,** he said.
"Darnizhaan spoke the truth- Or, at least, he spoke most of
the truth, as he understood it."

58

STORMBRINGER            59

"You mean we win all soon cease to exist? That it will be
as if we had never breathed, or thought, or fought?"

That is likely."

"But why? It seems unjust."

nvho told you that the worid was just?**

Eiric smiled, his own suspicions confirmed. "Aye, as I ex-
pected, there is no Justice."

"But there fa," Sepiriz said, -Justice of a kind—Justice
which must be carved from the chaos of existence. Man was
not born to a world of justice. But he can create such a

world!**

*Td agree to that," Eiric said, "but what are all our striv-
inga for if we are doomed to die and the results of our ac-
tions with us?"

"That is not absolutely the case. Something wffl continue.
Those who come after us will inherit something from us."

"What is that?"

"An earth free of the major forces of Chaos.**

"You mean a world free of sorcery, I presume ...?**

"Not entirely free of sorcery, but chaos and sorcery wffl
not dominate the world of the future as it does this world.**

"Then that is worth striving for, Sepiriz," Eiric said almost
with relief. "But what part do the runeblades play in the
scheme of things?"

"They have two functions. One, to rid this world of the
great dominating sources of evil—**

"But they are evil. themselvesi"

"Just so. It takes a strong evil to battle a strong evfl. The
days mat will come will be when the forces of good can over-
come those of evil. They are not yet strong enough. That, as
I told you, is what we must strive for."

"And what is the other purpose of the blades?"

"That is their final purpose—your destiny. I can ten you
now. I must ten you now, or let you live out your destiny un-
knowing."

"Then teU me,*' Eiric said impatiently.

"Their ultimate purpose is to destroy this world!"

Eiric stood up. "Ah, no, Sepiriz. That I cannot believe.
ShaH I have such a crime on my conscience?"

"It is not a crime, it is in the nature of wings. The era of
the Bright Empire, even that of the Young Kingdoms, is
drawing to a close. Chaos formed mis earth and, for aeons,
Chaos ruled. Men were created to put an end to that rule."

60 Michael Moorcock

"But my ancestors worshipped the powers of Chaoc. My
patron demon, Arioch, is a Duke of Hell, one of the prime
Lords of Chaos!"

"Just so. You, and your ancestors, were not true men at
all, but an intermediary type created for a purpose. You un-
derstand Chaos as no true men ever could understand it You
can control the forces of Chaos as no true men ever could.
And, as a manifestation of the champion Eternal, you can
weaken die forces of Chaos—for you know the qualities of
Chaos. Weaken them is what you have done. Though wor-
shipping the Lords of Chance, your race were the first to
bring some kind of order to the earth. The people of the
Young Kingdoms have inherited this from you—and have
consolidated it. But, as yet. Chaos is still that much stronger.
The runeblades, Stormbringer and Mournblade, this more or-
derly age, the wisdom your race and mine have gained, all
will go towards creating the basis for the true beginnings of
Mankind's history. That history wBl not begin for many thou-
sands of years, the type may take on a lowlier form, become
more beastlike before it re-evolves, but when it does, it will
re-evolve into a world bereft of the stronger forces of Chaos.
It will have a fighting chance. We are all doomed, but they
need not be."

"So that is what Damizhaan meant when be said we were
just puppets, acting out our parts before me true play began
. . ." EIric sighed deeply, the weight of his mighty responsi-
bnity was heavy on his soul. He did not welcome it; but he
accepted it

Sepiriz said gently: "It is your purpose, EIric of Melni-
bon6. Hitherto, your life has appeared comparatively mean*
ingless. All through it you have been searching for some
purpose for living, is that not true?"

"Aye,** EIric agreed with a slight smile, "Fve been restless
for many a year since my birth; restless the more between the
time when Zarozinia was abducted and now."

"It is fitting that you should have been,** Sepiriz said, "for
there is SL purpose for you—Fate's purpose. It is this destiny
that you have sensed all your mortal days. You, the last of
the royal line of Melnibone, must complete your destiny in
the times which are to follow closely upon these. The world
is darkening—nature revolts and rebels against the abuses to
which the Lords of Chaos put it. Oceans seethe and forests
sway, hot lava spills from a thousand mountains, winds shriek

STORMBRINGER            61

their angry torment and the skies are full of awful movement.
Upon the face of the earth, warriors are embattled in a
struggle which will decide the fate of the world, linked as the
struggle is, with greater conflicts among Gods. Women and
little children die on a million funeral pyres upon this con-
tinent alone. And soon the conflict will spread to me next
continent and the next Soon all the men of the earth will
have chosen sides and Chaos might easily win. It would win
but for one thing: you and your sword Stormbringer."

"Stormbringer. It has brought enough storms for me. Per-
haps this time it can calm one. And what if Law should
win?"

"And if Law should win—then that, too, will mean the de-
cline and death of this world—we shall all be forgotten. But
if Chaos should win—then doom will cloud the very air, ag-
ony will sound in the wind and foul misery will dominate a
plunging, unsettled worid of sorcery and evil hatred. But you,
EIric, with your sword and our aid, could stop this. It must
be done."

"Then let it be done," EIric said quietly, "and if it must be
done—then let it be done well.**

Sepiriz said: "Annies will soon be marshalled to drive
against Pan Tang's might These must be our first defence.
Thereafter, we shall call upon you to fulfil the rest of your
destiny."

"ni play my part, willingly," EIric replied, "for. whatever
else, I have a mind to pay the Theocrat back for his insults
and the inconvenience be has caused me. Though perhaps be
didn't instigate Zarozinia's abduction, he aided those who did,
and he shall die slowly for that"

"Go then, speedily, for each moment wasted allows the
Theocrat to consolidate further his new-won empire."

"Farewell," said EIric, now more than ever anxious to
leave Nihrain and return to familiar lands. "I know well
meet again, Sepiriz, but I pray it be in calmer times than
these."

Now the three of them rode eastwards, towards the coast
of Tarkesh where they hoped to find a secret ship to take
them across the Pale Sea to luniora and thence to Karlaak by
the Weeping Waste. They rode their magical Nihrain horses,
careless of danger, through a war-wasted worid, strife-ruined
and miserable under the heel of the Theocrat

62 Michael Moorcock

Eiric and Zarozima exchanged many glances, but they did
not speak much, for they were both moved by a knowledge
of something which they could not speak of, which they
dared not admit She knew they would not have much time
together even when they returned to Kariaak, die saw that he
grieved and she grieved also, unable to understand the change
that had come upon her husband, only aware that the black
sword at his side would never, now, hang in (he armoury
again. She felt she had failed him, though this was not the
case.

As they topped a hut and saw smoke drifting* black and
thick across the plains of Toraunz, once beautiful, now ru-
ined* Dyvim Slorm shouted from behind Eiric and his bride:

"One thing, cousin—whatever happens, we must have ven-
geance on the Theocrat and bis ally."

Eiric pursed his Ups.

"Aye,** he said, and glanced again at Zarozima whose 'eyes
were downcast.

Now the Western lands from Taikesh to Myyrrfm were
sundered by the servitors of Chaos. Was this truly to be the
final conflict that would decide whether Law or Chaos would
dominate the future? The forces of Law were weak and scat-
tered. Could this possibly be the final paroxysm on earth of
the great Lords of Eva? Now, between armies, one part of
the world's fate was being decided. The lands groaned in the
torment of bloody conflict

What other forces must Eiric fight before he accomplished
his final destiny and destroyed the worid he knew. What else
before the horn of fate was blown—to herald in the night?

Sepiriz, no doubt, would tell him when the time came.

But meanwhile more material scores had to be settled. The
lands to the east must be made ready for war. The sealords
of the Purple Ports must be approached for aid, the kings of
the south marshalled for attack on the western continent. B
would take time to do all this.

Part of Eiric's mind welcomed the time it would take.

Part of him was reluctant to continue his heavy destiny.
for it would mean the end of the Age of the Young King-
doms, the death of the memory of the Age of the Bright Em-
pire which his ancestors had dominated for ten thousand
years.

The sea was at last in sight, rolling its troubled way

STORMBMNGER            63

towards the horizon to meet a seething sky. He heard the cry
of gulls and smelled the tang of the salt air in his nostrils.

With a wild shout be clapped his steed's flanks and raced
down towards the sea...

BOOK TWO

Black Sword's Brothers

In which Moumblade returns to help decide an issue between
Eiric and the Lords of Chaos ...

One

One day there came a gathering of kings, captains, and war-
lords to the peaceful city of Karlaak in Ilmiora by the Weep-
ing Waste.

They did not come in great pomp or with grandiose ges-
tures. They came grim-faced and hurriedly to answer the
summons of Biric, who dwelt again in Karlaak with his
lately-rescued wife Zarozinia. And they gathered in a great
chamber which bad once been used by the old rulers of Kar-
laak for the planning of wars. To this same purpose Eiric
now put it

Illuminated by flaring torches, a great coloured map of the
world was spread behind the dais on which Eiric stood. It
showed the three major continents of the East, West and
South. That of the West, comprising Jharkor, Dharijor, Sha-
zar, Tarkesb, Myyrrhn and the Isle of Pan Tang, was shaded
black, for all these lands were now the conquered Empire of
the Pan Tang-Dharijor alliance which threatened the security
of the assembled nobles.

Some of the men who stood armoured before Eiric were
exiles from the conquered lands—but there were few. Few
also were Eiric's Imnyrian kinsmen who had fought at the
Battle of Sequa and had been defeated with the massed army
that had sought to resist the combined might of me evil al-
liance. At the head of the eldritch Imrryrians stood Dyvim
SIonn, Eiric's cousin. At his belt, encased in a sturdy scab-
bard, was the runesword Mournblade, twin to the one Eiric
wore.

Here also was Montan, Lord of Lormyr, standing with
fellow rulers from the Southlands—Jerned of Filkhor, Hozd
of Argimiliar, and Koltbak of Pikarayd, adorned in painted
iron, velvet, silk and wool.

The Sealords from the Isle of the Purple Towns were less
gaudily dad with helms and breastplates of plain bronze,

67

68 Michael Moorcock

terkins, bracks and boots of unstained leather and great
broadswords at their hips. Their faces were all but hidden by
their long shaggy hair and thick, curling beards.

All these, kings and sealords alike, were inclined to stare at
Brie suspiciously, since years before he had led their royal
predecessors on the raid of Imrryr—though it had left many
thrones clear for those who now sat on them.

In another group stood the nobles of that part of the
Eastern continent lying to the west of the Sighing Desert and
the Weeping Waste, Beyond these two barren stretches of
land were the kingdoms of Eshniir, Changshai and Okara.
but there was no contact between Eiric's part of the world
and theirs—save for the small, red-headed man beside him—
his friend Moonglum of Elwhcr, an Eastern adventurer.

The Regent of Vilmir, uncle of the tcn-montb-old Icing.
headed this last group made up of senators from me city-
states comprising Umiora; the red-domed archer Rackhir
representing me city of Tanelorn; and various Merchant
Princes from towns coming under the indirect rule of VUmir
as protectorates.

A mighty gathering, representing the massed power of the
world.

But would even this be sufficient, Eiric wondered, to wipe
out me growing menace from me Westlanda?

His white albino's face was stern, his red eyes troubled —
he addressed the men be had caused to come here.

"As you know, my lords, me threat of Pan Taag and
Dfaarijor is not likely to remain confined to me Western con-
tinent for much longer. Though barely two months have
passed since their victory was achieved, they are already mar-
ahalliag a great fleet aimed at crushing the power of mow
kings dependent, largely, on their ships for livelihood and de-
fence.'*

He glanced at me Sealords of the Purple Towns and (be
kings of the Southern continent.

"We of the East, it seems, are not regarded as so much of
a danger to their immediate plans and, if we did not unite
now, they would have a greater chance of success by con-
quering first me Southern sea-power and wen the scattered
cities of the East We must form an alliance which can match
their strength."

*'How do you know mis is their plan, Eiric?"

STORMBRINGER            69

The voice was that of Hozel of Argimiliar, a proud-faced
man inclined it was said to fits of insanity, the inbred off-
spring of a dozen incestuous unions.

"Spies, refugees—and supernatural sources. They have all
reported it**

"Even without these reports, we could be sure that mis is,
indeed, their plan," growled Kargan Sharpeyes. spokesman
for the Sealords* He looked directly at Hozel with something
akin to contempt. "And Jagreen Lem of Pan Tang might also

•eek allies amongst the Southerners. There are some who
would rather capitulate to a foreign conqueror than lose their

•oft lives and easily-earned treasure."

Hozel smiled coldly at Kargan. "There are some, too,
whose animal suspicions might cause them to make no move
against the Theocrat until it was too late.**

Eiric said hastily, aware of age-old bitternesses between me
hardy Sealords and their softer neighbours: "But worst of all
they would be best aided by internal feuds in our ranks,
brothers. Hozel—take it for granted that I speak truly and
mat my information is exact"

Montan, Lord of Lormyr. his face, beard and hair all

•haded grey, said haughtily: "You of the North and Bast are
weak. We of the South are strong. Why should we lend you
our ships to defend your coasts? I do not agree with your
logic, Eiric. It will not be me first time it has led good men
astray—to their deaths!**

"I thought we bad agreed to bury old disputesrM Eiric said.
dose to anger, for the guilt of what he had done was still in

him.

"Aye.** nodded Kargan. "A man who cant forget the past
is a man who cannot plan for the future. I say Eiric's logic is
good!-

"You traders were always too reckless with your ships and
too gufllible when you heard a smooth-tongue. That's why
you now envy our riches." Young Jemed of Filkhor smiled in
his thin beard, his eyes on the floor.

Kargan fumed. "Too honest, perhaps, is the word yon
should have used. Southerner! Belatedly our forefathers
learned how the fat Southlands were cheating them. Their
forefathers raided your coasts, remember? Maybe we should
have continued their practice! Instead, we settled, traded—

TO

Michael Moorcock

and your bellies swelled from the profits of our sweat! Oodst
Fd not trust the word of a Southern—"

EIric leaned forward to interrupt, but was interrupted him-
self by Hozel who said impatiently: "The fact is this. The
Thcocrat is more likely to concentrate his first attacks on the
Eart. For these reasons: The Eastlands are weak. The East-
lands are poorly defended. The Eastlanda are closer to hia
shores and therefore more accessible. Why should he risk his
recently-united strength on the stronger Southlands, or risk a
more hazardous sea-crossing?"

"Because,** EIric said levelly, "his Ships will be magic-aided
and distance will not count Because the South is richer and
will supply him with metals, food—**

"Ships and menf spat Kargan.

"Sol You think we already plan treachery*** Hozel glanced
first at EIric and then at Kargan. "Then why summon us here
in the first place?"

"I did not say that,** EIric said hastily. "Kargan spoke hia
own thoughts, not mine. Calm yourselves—we must be
united—or perish before superior armies and supernatural
might!"

"Oh. no!" Hozel turned to the other Southern monardn.
"What say you. my peers? Shall we lend them our ships and
warriora to protect their shores as well as ours?"

"Not when they are so ungratefully spurned,*' Jerned mur-
mured. "Let Jagreen Lern expend his energies upon them.
When he looks toward the South he will be weakened, and
we shall be ready for him!"

"You are fools!" EIric cried urgently. "Stand with us or
well all perish! The Lords of Chaos are behind the TheocraL
If he succeeds in his ambitions it will mean more than con-
quest by a human schemer—it will mean that we shaB all be
subjected to the horror of total anarchy, on the Earth and
above it The human race is threatened!'*

Hozel stared hard at EIric and smiled. Then let the hu-
man race protect itself and not fight under an uohuman
leader. Tis well-known that the men of Melnibone are not
true men at all.**

*'Bc that as it may,*" EIric lowered his head and lifted a
thin, white hand to point at Hozel. The king shivered and
held his ground with obvious effort. "But I know more than
that, Hozel of Argimfliar. I know that the men of me Young

STORMBRINGER            71

Kingdoms are only the gods* first mouldings—shadow-things
who precede the race of real men, even as we preceded you.
And I know morel I know that if we do not vanquish both
Jagreea Lern and his supernatural allies, then men will be
swept from me boiling fqce of a maddened planet, their des-
tiny unfulfilled!"

Hozel swallowed and spoke, his voice trembling.

"I've seen your muttering kind in the market places, EIric.
Men who prophecy all kinds of dooms that never take
place—mad-eyed men such as you. But we do not let them
live in Argimiliar. We fay them slowly, finger by finger, inch
by inch until they admit their omens are fallacious! Perhaps
well have that opportunity, yet!"

He swung about and half-ran from the hall. For a mo-
ment the other Southern Monarchs stood staring irresolutely
after him.

EIric said urgently: "Heed him not, my lords. I swear on
my life that my words are true!"

Jemed said softly, half to himself: *That could mean little,
There are rumours you're immortal."

Moonglum came close to his friend and whispered: "They
are unconvinced, EIric. Tis plain they're not our men."

EIric nodded. To the Southern nobles he said: "Know mis:

Though you foolishly reject my offer of an alliance, the day
wiH come when you will regret your decision. I have been io-

•atted in my own palace, my friends have been insulted and I
curse you for the upstart fools you are. But when the time
comes for you to learn the error of this decision I swear that
we shall aid you, if it is in our power. Now go!"

Disconcerted, the Southerners straggled from we hall in

•Hence.

EIric turned to Kargaa Sharpcyes. "What have you de-
cided, Sealord?"

"We stand with you.** Kargan said simply. "My brother
Smiorgan Baldhead always spoke well of you and I remem-
ber his words rather than the rumours which followed hia
death under your leadership. Moreover," he smiled broadly,

•it is in our nature to believe that whatever a Southern weak-
ling decides must therefore be wrong. You have the Purple
Towns as allies—and our ships, though fewer than the com-
bined fleets of the south, are smooth-sailing fighting ships and
well-equipped for war."

72

•I must warn you that we stand little chance without
Southern aid," EIric said gravely.

'Tm doubtful if they'd have been more than an encum-
brance with their guile and squabblings,** Kargan replied.
"Besides—have you no sorcery to help us in this?"

"I plan to seek some tomorrow," EIric told him. "Moon-
glum and myself will be leaving my cousin Dyvim Slorm in
charge here while we go to Sorcerers' Isle, beyond Melaibone.
There, among the hermit practitioners of the White Arts, I
-. might find means of contacting the Lords of Law. I, as you
know, am half-sworn to Chaos, though I fight it, and am
finding increasingly that my own Demon-God is somewhat
loathe to aid me these days. At present, the White Lords are
weak, beaten back, just as we are on Earth, by the increasing
power of the Dark Ones. It is hard to contact them. The her-
mits can likely help me."

Kargan nodded. "Twould be a relief to us of the Purple
Towns to know that we were not too strongly leagued with
dark spirits, I must admit"

EIric frowned. "I agree, of course. But our position is so
weak that we must accept any help—be it black or white. I
presume that there is dispute among the Masters of Chaos as
to how far they should go—that is why some of my own help
still comes from Chaoa. This blade that hangs at my side, and
the twin which Dyvim Slorm bears, are both evil. Yet they
were forged by creatures of Chaos to bring an end, on Earth
at least, to the Masters' rule here. Just as my blood-loyalties
are divided, so are the swords' loyalties. We haw no aupcp-
natural allies we can wholly rely upon."

"I feel for you," Kargan said gruffly, and ft was obvious
that he did. No man could envy Eiric's position or Eiric'i
destiny.

Orgon. Kargan's cousin-in-law, said bluntly: "Well to bed
now. Has your kinsman your full confidence?**

EIric glanced at Dyvim Slorm and smiled. "My full confi-
dence—he knows as much as I about this business. He shall
speak for me since be knows my basic plans.**

"Very well. WeTl confer with him tomorrow and, if we do

not see you before you leave, do well for us on Sorcerers*
Isle."

The Sealords left.
Now, for the first time, the Regent of Vilmir spoke. His

STORMBRINGER            73

voice was clear and cool. "We, too, have confidence in you
and your kinsman, EIric. Already we know you both for
clever warriors and cunning planners. Vflinir has good cause
to know it from your exploits in Bakshaan and elsewhere
throughout our territories. We, I feel, have the good sense to
bury old scores.** He turned to the Merchant Princes for con-
firmation and they nodded their agreement

"Good,** EIric said. He addressed the gaunt-faced archer,
Rackhir, his friend, whose legend almost equalled his own.

"You come as a spokesman of Tanelorn, Rackhir. This will
not be the first time we have fought the Lords of Chaos.**

*Tnie.** Rackhir nodded. "Most recently we averted a
threat with certain aid from the Grey Lords—but Chaos had
caused the gateways to the Grey Lords to be closed to mor-
tals. We can offer you only our warriors' loyalty."

"We shall be grateful for that" EIric paced the dais. There
was no need to ask the senators of Karlaak and the other cit-
ies of nmiora, for they had agreed to support him, come
what may, long before toe other rulers were called.

The same was true of the bleak-faced band who made up
the refugees from the West, headed by Viri-Sek. the winged
youth from Myyrrhn, last of his line since all the other mem-
bers of Ac ruling family had been slain by Jagreen Lem's
minions.

Just beyond the waus of Karlaak was a sea of tents and
pavilions over which the banners of many nations waved
sluggishly in the hot, moist wind. At this moment, EIric
knew, the proud lords of the South were uprooting their stan-
dards and packing their tents, not looking at me war-battered
warriors of Shazar, Jharkor and Tarkesh who stared at them
in puzzlement Sight of those dun-eyed veterans should have
decided the Southern nobles to ally themselves with the East,
but evidently ft bad not

. EIric sighed and turned his back on me others to contem-
plate the great map of the worid with its shaded dark areas.

"Now only a quarter is black," he said softly to Moon-
glum. "But the dark tide spreads farther and faster and soon
we may an be engulfed."

"Well dam the flow—or try to—when ft comes,** Moon-
fhim said with attempted jauntiness. "But meanwhile your
wife would spend some time with you before we leave. Let's
both to bed and trust our dreams are Ughtl**

Two

Two nights later they stood on the quayside in the city of
Jadmar while a cold wind sliced its way inland.

"There she is," Eiric said, pointing down at the small boat
rocking and bumping in the water below.

"A small craft,'" Moonglum said dubiously. "She scarcely
looks sea-worthy.*'

"SheTl stay afloat longer than a larger vessel in a heavy
storm.** Eiric clambered down the iron steps. "Also,** he
added, as Moonglum put a cautious foot on the rung above
him, "shell be less noticeable and won't draw the attention of
any enemy vessels which might be scouting in these waters.**

He jumped and the boat rocked crarily. He leaned over,
grasped a rung and steadied the boat so that Moonglum
could dimb aboard.

The cocky little Eastlaoder pushed a hand through his
shock of red hair and stared up at the troubled sky.

"Bad weather for this time of year," he noted. 'Ifs hard to
understand. All the way from Karlaak we*ve had every sort
of weather, freak snow-storms, thunder-storms, hail and
winds as hot as a furnace blast Those rumours were disturb-
ing, too—a rain of blood in Bakshaan, balls of fiery metal
falling in the West of Vilmir, unprecedented earthquakes in
Jadmar a few hours before we arrived. It seems nature has
gone insane.**

**Not far from the truth," Eiric said grimly, untying the
mooring line. "Lift the sail will you, and tack into the wind?"

"What do you mean?** Moonglum began to loosen the saiL
It billowed into his face and his voice was muffled. "Jagreen
Lern's hordes haven't reached this part of the worid yet."

"Tbey haven*! needed to. I told you the forces of nature
were being disrupted by Chaos. We have only experienced
the backwash of what is going on in the West. If you think
these weather conditions are peculiar, you would be horrified
74

STORMBRINGER            75

by me effect which Chaos has on those parts of the worid
where its rule is almost totall"

"I wonder if you havent taken on too much in this fight.**
Moonglum adjusted the sail and it filled to send the little boat
scudding between the two long harbour walls towards the
open sea.

As they passed the beacons, guttering in Ac cold wind, Ei-
ric gripped the tiller tighter, taking a south-easterly course
past the Vilmirian peninsula. Overhead the stars were some-
tunes obscured by the tattered shreds of Clouds streaming be-
fore the cold, unnatural blast of the wind. Spray splashed in
his face, stinging it in a thousand places, but he ignored it.
He bad not answered Moonglum, for he also had doubts
about his ability to save the world from Chaos.

Moonglum had learned to judge his friend's moods. For
some years before they had travelled the worid together and
had learned to respect one another. Lately, since Eiric had
near-permanent residence in his wife's city of Karlaak,
Moonglum had continued to travel and had been in com-
mand of a small mercenary army patrolling the Southern
marches of PDcarayd, driving back the barbarians inhabiting
the hinterland of that country. He had immediately relin-
quished this command when Eiric's news reached him and
now, as the tiny ship bore them towards a hazy and peril-
fraught destiny, savoured the familiar mixture of excitement
and perturbation which he had felt a dozen times before
when their escapades had led them into conflict with the un-
known supernatural forces so closely linked with Elric*s des-
tiny. He had come to accept as a fact that bis destiny was
bound to Eiric's and felt, in the deepest places of his being,
that when the time came they would both die together in
some mighty adventure.

Was this death imminent! he wondered, as he concentrated
on the sail and shivered in the blasting wind. Not yet, per-
haps, but he felt, fatalistically, that it was not far away, for
the time was looming when the only deeds of men would be
dark, desperate and great and even these might not serve to
form a bastion against the inrush of the creatures of Chaos.

Eiric,-himself, contemplated nothing, kept his mind clear
and relaxed as much as he could. His quest for the aid of the
White Lords was one which could well prove fruitless, but be

76

Michael Moorcock

chose not to dwell oo this until he knew for certain whether
their help could be invoked or not

Dawn came swimming over the horizon, showing a heaving
waste of grey water with no land in sight The wind had
dropped and the air was warmer. Banks of purple cloud bear'
ing veins of saffron and scarlet poured into the sky line the
smoke of some monstrous pyre. Soon they were sweating
beneath a moody sun and the wind had dropped so that me
sail hardly moved and yet, at the same time, the sea began to
heave as if lashed by a storm.

The sea was moving like a living entity thrashing in night-
mare-filled sleep. Moonglum glanced at Brie from where he
lay sprawled in the prow of me boat Eiric returned me gaze.
shaking his head and releasing his half-conscious grip of the
tiller. It was useless to attempt steering the boat in conditions
like these. The boat was being swept about by me wild waves,
yet no water seemed to enter it, no spray wet them. Every-
thing had become unreal, dream-like and for a white Eiric
felt that even if he had wished to speak he would not have
been able to do so.

Then, in me distance at first, they heard a tow droning
which grew to a whining shriek and suddenly the boat was
sent half-flying over the rolling waves and driven down into a
trench. Above them the blue and silver water seemed for a
moment to be a waB of metal—and men it came crashing
down towards them.

His mood broken, Eiric clung to the tiller and yelled)
"Hang on to the boat, Moooglum' Hang on or you're lost!**

Tepid water groaned down and they were flattened beneath
it as if swatted by a gigantic palm. The boat dropped deeper
and deeper until it seemed they would be crushed on the bot-
tom by me surging Mow. Then they were flung upwards
again and down and, as he glimpsed the boiling surface, Eiric
saw three mountains pushing themselves upwards, gouting
flame and lava. The boat wallowed, half-full of water tend
they set to frantically baling it out as the boat was swiried
back and forth, being driven nearer and nearer to the new-
formed volcanoes.

Eiric dropped his baling pan and flung his weight against
me tiller, forcing the boat away from the mountains of fire. It
responded sluggishly, but began to drift in me opposite direc-
tion.

STORMBRINGER            77

Eiric saw Moonghnn, pate-faced, attempting to shake out
me sodden sail. He glanced upwards to try and get some kind
of bearing, but me sun seemed to have swollen and broken so
that he saw a million fragments of flame.

"This is the work of Chaos, Moonglum," he shouted, "and
only a taste, I fancy, of what it can becomel"

*They must know of our plan and seek to stop usi" Moon-
glum swept sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Perhaps—but I mink not" Now he looked up again and
me sun seemed almost normal. He took a bearing and found
they were many miles off their original course.

He had planned to sail to the South of Melnibone, Isle of
the Dragon, and avoid the Dragon Sea lying to me North, for
it was well-known that me last great sea-monsters still
roamed this stretch. But now it was obvious that they were,
in fact, north of Mehubone and being driven further north affl
the time—towards Pan Tangt^

There was no chance of heading for Mebubon6 itself—he
wondered if the Isle of me Dragon had even survived me
monstrous upheavals. He would have to make straight for
Sorcerers* Isle if he could.

The ocean was calmer now, but me water had almost
reached boiling point so that every drop mat fen on his skin
•eemed to scald him. Bubbles formed on the surface and it
was as if they sailed in a gigantic witch's cauldron. Dead fish
and half-reptilian forms drifted about, as thick as sea-weed,
threatening to clog me boat's passage. But me wind, though
strong, had begun to blow in one direction and Moongtuin
grinned in relief as it filled the saiL

Slowly, through me death-thick waters, they managed to
steer a north-westerly course towards Sorcerers' Isle as douda
of steam formed on me ocean and obscured their view.

Hours later they had left me heated waters behind and
were sailing beneath clear skies OB a calm sea. They allowed
themselves to doze. In less man a day they would reach Sor-
cerers' Isle, but now they were overcome by me reaction to
their experience and wondered, dazedly, how they bad lived
through the awful storm.

Eiric jerked his eyes open with a shock. He was certain he
had not slept long, yet the sky was dark and a cold drizzle
was falling. As the drops touched his head and face, they

78

Michael Moorcock

oozed down it like viscous jelly. Some of it entered his mouth
and be lustily spat out the bitter-tasting stuff.

"Moonglum," he called through the gloom, "wfaafs the
hour, do you know?*'

The Eaatlander's deep-heavy voice answered dazedly. "I
know not Fd swear it is not night already!"

Eiric gave the tiller a tentative push—and the boat did not
respond. He looked over the side and it seemed they were
sailing through the sky itself. A dully luminous gas seemed to
swirl about the hull, but he could see no water.

He shuddered. Had they left the confines of the Garth?
Were they sailing through some frightful, supernatural sea?

He cursed himself for sleeping, feeling helpless—more
helpless than when be had fought the storm. The heavy,
gelatinous rain beat down strongly and he pulled the hood of
his cloak over his white hair. From his belt pouch he took
Bint and tinder and the tiny light was hist sufficient to show
him Moonglum*s half-mad eyes. The little Easuander's face
was taut with fear. Eiric had never seen such fear on his
friend's face and knew that with a little less self-control his
own face would assume a similar expression.

"Our time has ended," Moonglum trembled, "I fear that
we're dead, at last, Eiric."

"Don't prattle such emptiness, Moonglum. I have heard of
no after-life such as this." But secretly, Eiric wondered if
Moonglum's words were true.

The ship seemed to be moving rapidly through the gaseous
sea, being driven or drawn to some unknown destination. Yet
Eiric could swear that the Masters of Chaos had no
knowledge of his boat.

Faster and faster the little craft moved and then, with re-
lief, they heard the familiar splash of water about its keel and
it was surging through the salt-sea again. For a short while
longer the viscous rain continued to fall and then even that
was past

Moonglum sighed as the blackness slowly gave way to light
and they saw again a normal ocean about them.

"What was h, then?" he ventured, finally.

"Another manifestation of ruptured nature,*' Eirfc said
with attempted calmness. "Some warp in the barrier between
the realm of men and the realm of Chaos, perhaps? Don't
question our luck in surviving it. We are again off-comso

STORMBRINGER             79

and,*' he pointed to the horizon, "a natural storm seems to be
brewing yonder."

"A natural storm I can accept, no matter how dangerous,*'
the Eastlander murmured and made swift preparations, furi-
ing the sail as the wind increased and the sea churned.

In a way, Eiric welcomed the storm when it finally struck
them. At least it obeyed natural laws and could be fought by
natural means and experience of similar storms in the past

The rain refreshed their faces, the wind swept through
their hair and they fought the storm with fierce enjoyment,
me plucky boat riding the waves.

But, in spite of this, they were being driven further and
further north-east—towards the conquered coasts of Shazar.
almost in the opposite direction to their goal.

The healthy storm raged on until at thoughts of destiny
and supernatural danger were driven from their minds and
their muscles ached and nicy gasped with the shock of cold
waves on their drenched bodies.

The boat reeled and rocked, their hands were sore from
me tightness of their grip on wood and rope, but it was as if
Fate had singled them out to live, or perhaps for a death mat
would be less dean, for they continued to ride tile heaving
waters.

Then, with a shock, Eiric saw rocks rearing and Moonglum
shouted in recognition:

'The Serpent's TeethF

The Serpent's Teeth lay close to Shazar and were one o(
the most feared hazards of the shore-hugging traders of the
West. Eiric and Moonglum had seen mem before, from a dis-
tance, but now me storm was driving them nearer and nearer,
and though they struggled to keep the boat away, they
seemed bound to be smashed to their deaths on the jagged
rocks.

A wave surged under the boat, lifted them and bore them
down. Eiric dung to the side of the boat and thought he
heard Moonglum's wild shout above the noise of the storm
before they were flung towards the Serpent's Teeth.

"FareweOr'

And then were was we terrifying sound of smashing tim-
bers, die feel of sharp rock lacerating his rolling body and he
was beneath the waves fighting his way to the surface to gasp

80                Michael Moorcock

in a hingful of air before another wave tossed him and
grazed his arm against the rocks.

Desperately, encumbered by the life-giving ranesword at
his belt. he attempted to swim for the looming cliffs of Sha-
zar. conscious that even if he lived he had arrived on enemy
soil and his chances of reaching the White Inrds were now
almost non-existent.

Three

Eiric lay exhausted on the cold Shingle listening to the musi-
cal sound that the tide made as it drew back. over the stones.

Another sound joined that of the surf, and he recognised it
as the crunch of boots. Someone was coming towards him. In
Shazar it was most likely to be an enemy. He rolled over and
began scrambling to his feet, drawing the last reserves from
his wom-out body. His right hand had. half-drawn Storm-
bringer from its scabbard before he realised dial it was Moon-
glum, bent with weakness, standing grinning before him.

"Thank me gods, you livel'* Moonglum lowered himself to
the shingle and leaned back with his arms supporting him, re-
garding the now calm sea and the towering Serpent's Teeth in
the distance.

"Aye, we live," EIric said, squatting down moodily. *'but
for bow long m this ruined land I cannot guess. Somewhere,
perhaps, we can find a ship—but it will mean seeking a town
or city and we're a marked pair, easily recognised by our
physical appearance."

Moonglum shook his head and laughed lightly. "You're
•till the gloomy one, friend. Be thankful for your life, say I."

"Small mercies are all but useless in this conflict," Eiric
said. "Rest, now, Moonglum while I watch, then you can take
my place. There was no time to lose when we began this ven-
ture and now we've lost days."

Moonglum gave no argument, but allowed himself immedi-
ately to sleep and when he awoke, much refreshed though
aching horribly, Eiric slept until the moon was high and shin-
ing brightly in a dear sky.

They trudged through the night, the sparse grass of the
coast region giving way to wet, blackened ground. It was as if
a holocaust had raged over the countryside, followed by a
rainstorm which had left behind it a marsh of ashes. Remem-
bering the grassy plains of mis part of Shazar, Eiric was hor-
81

82

Michael Moorcock

rifled, unable to ten whether men or the creatures of ChaO*
had caused such wanton ruin.

Noon was approaching with a hint of weird disturbances in
uie bright-clowded Sky, when they saw a long line of people
approaching them. They flattened themselves behind a small
rise and peered cautiously over it as the party drew nearer.
These were no enemy soldiers, but gaunt women and
starvling children* men who staggered in rags and a few bat-
tered riders, obviously the remnants of some defeated band of
partisans who had held out against Pan Tang.

"I think we*U find friends, of sorts, here,*' Eiric muttered

thankfully, "and perhaps some information which will help
us."

They arose and walked towards the wretched herd. The
riders quickly grouped around the civilians and drew their
weapons, but before any challenges could be given, someone
cried from the enclosed ranks:

"Eiric of Melnibon^l Eiric—have you returned with news
of rescue?**

Eiric didn't recognise (he voice, but he knew his face was
legend with its dead white akin and glowing red eyes.

Toa seeking rescue myself, friends,** he said with poorly-
assumed cheerfulness. "We were shipwrecked on your coasts
whue on a journey which we hoped would help us lift the
yoke of Jagreen Lem from off the Westlands, but unless we
find another ship our chances are scant"

"Which way did you sail, Eiric?" said me unseen spokes-
man.

"We sailed to Sorcerers* Isle in the south-west, mere to in-
voke the aid, if we could, of the White Lords,** Moonglum
replied.

"Then you were going in the wrong direction"*
Eiric straightened his back and tried to peer into the
throng.

"Who are you to teD us that?**

There was a disturbance in the crowd and a bent, middfo-
aged man leaning on a staff with long curling moustachios
adorning his fair-skinned face broke from the ranks and
stood mere. The ridera drew back their horses so that Eiric
could see him properly.

"I am named Ohada the Seer, once famous to Dioperda as
a predictor of events. But Dioperda was razed in the sack of

STORMBRINGER            83

Sbazar and I was lucky enough to escape with these few
people who are all from Dioperda, one of the last cities to
fall before Pan Tang*s sorcerous might I have a message of
great import for you, Eiric. It is for your ears only and I re-
ceived it from one you know—one who may help you and,
indirectly, us.**

**You have piqued my curiosity and raised my hopes,** Ei-
ric beckoned with his band. "Come, seer, tell me your news
and let's all trust it is as good as you hint"

Moonglum took a step back as the seer approached. Both
he and the Dioperdans watched with curiosity as Ohada whis-
pered to Eiric.

Eiric himself had to strain to catch the words.
"I bear a message from a being called Sepiriz, He says mat
what you have failed to do, he has done, but there is some-
thing which you must do that he cannot He says to go to the
carved city and there he will enlighten you further."
"Sepiriz! How did he contact you?"
"I am clairvoyant. He came to me in a dream."

**Your words could be treacherous, designed to lead me
into Jagreen Lem's hands.**

"Sepiriz added one thing to me—he told me that we should
meet on this very spot Could Jagreen Lem know that?"

"Unlikely—but, by the same reckoning, could anyone
know that?**

^   Then Eiric remembered that Sepiriz and his brothers, who
%• bad helped him earlier, were the servitors of Fate. And Fate
';,' had already played an important part in this. He nodded.
r Thanks, seer."

Then he shouted to the riders.
"We need a pair of horses—the best you havel**
"Our horses are valuable to us." grumbled a knight in torn
•nnour, **they are all we have."

"My companion and I need to move swiftly if we are to
save your land. Come, risk a pair of horses against the possi-
bility of vengeance on your conquerors.**

The knight dismounted and so did the man beside him.
They led their steeds up to Eiric and Moonglum.
"Use them wel. Eiric."

Eiric took the reins and swung himself into the saddle. "I
will," said he. "What are your plans now?"
"Well fight on as best we can."

84

"Would ft not be wiser to hide in Ac mountains or the
Marshes of the Mist?"

"If you had witnessed the depravity and terror of Jagreen
Lera's filthy rule, you would not make men an enquiry.** the
knight said hollowly. Though we cannot hope to win against
a man whose servants can command the very earth to heave
like the ocean, pull down floods of salt water from the sky
and send green clouds scudding down to destroy helpless chil-
dren in nameless ways, we shall take what vengeance we cani
This part of the continent is calm compared to what is going
on elsewhere. Dreadful geological changes are taking place
everywhere. You would not recognise a hill or forest ten
miles north. And those that you passed one day might well
have changed or disappeared on the next"

"We have witnessed something of the like on our sea jour-
ney," Eiric nodded. "I wish you a long life of revenge, friend.
I myself have scores to settle with Jagreen Lern and his ac-
complice."

"His accomplice? You mean King Sarosto of DharijorT" A
thin smile crossed the knight's haggard face. "You'll take no
vengeance on Sarosto—he was assassinated soon after our
forces were vanquished at the battle of Sequa. Though noth-
ing was proved, it is common knowledge that be was killed at
me orders of me Theocrat who now rule* the entire con-
tinent."* The knight signed. "And who can stand for long
against such captains as Jagreen Lem commands?

"Who are these captains?"

"Why, he has summoned an me Dukes of Hen to ban.
Whether they will accept his mastery much longer, I do not
know. It is our belief that Jagreen Lem win be the next to
die—and Hell, unchecked, will rule in his placel"

"I hope not," Eiric said softly, "for I wont be cheated of
my vengeance,"

The knight shrugged. "With the Dukes of Hell as his allies,
Jagreen Urn will soon rule me world."

"Let us hope I can find a means of disposing of mat dark
aristocracy, and keeping my vow to slay Jagreen Lern," Eiric
said and, with a wave of thanks to the seer and the two
knights, turned his horse towards the mountains of Jharkor,
Moonglum in his wake.

They got little rest on their perilous ride to me mountain

STORMBRINGER            85

home of Sepfriz for, as the knight had told mem, the ground
itself seemed alive and anarchy ruled everywhere.

Afterwards, Eiric remembered little save a feeling of utter
horror and me noise of unholy screechings in his ear, dark
colours, gold, reds, blue. black and me flaring orange that
was everywhere, me sign of Chaos on Earth.

But on me way he managed to inform Moonglum of his
previous encounter with Sepiriz and told him something of
what me Lord of Nihrain had mentioned of his destiny, how
the last of me royal line of old Melnibooe, Eiric and Dyvim
Slorm bore blades of Chaos-make which were destined to
destroy me rule of Chaos on me planet and prepare me
world for its death and rebirth as an era where Law would

dominate.

Moonglum had not replied, had, instead, resolved to stand
vim Eiric when the final day came whether they won or lost
the war against Chaos.

In the mountain regions dose to Nihrain they saw evidence
mat me rule of Chaos was not so complete as in other parts
nearby. This proved mat Sepiriz and his nine black brothers,
last of me Nihrain, were exerting at least some control
against me forces threatening to engulf them.

Through steep gorges of towering black rock, along treach-
erous mountain paths, down slopes that rattled with loose
•tones and seemed likely to start an avalanche, they pressed
deeper and deeper into the heart of me ancient mountains.
These were me oldest mountains in me world, and they held
one of me Earth's most ancient secrete—the domain of me
immortal Nihrain who had ruled for centuries even before
me coming of me Melnibooeaxn whose Bright Empire had
lasted ten thousand years.

And men, at last, they came to the Hewn City of Nihrain,
Its towering palaces, temples and fortresses cut into the living
black granite, hidden in the depths of a gorge that might
have been bottomless. Virtually cut off from all but me faint-
est filterings of sunlight, it had brooded here since earliest
times.

Down me narrow paths they guided their reluctant steeds
unt3 they had reached a huge gateway which was carved
with the figures of titans and half-men looming above them,
80 mat Moonglum gasped and immediately fell silent,

86

Michael Moorcock

overawed by the genius which could accomplish the twin
feats of gigantic engineering and powerful art

In the caverns of Nihrain, also carved to represent scenes
from the legends of the Nihrain, Sepiriz awaited them, a wel-
coming smile on his thin-lipped ebony face.

''Greetings, Sepiriz," Eiric dismounted and allowed slaves
to lead his horse away. Moonglum did likewise, a trifle war*

fly.

"I was informed correctly." Sepiriz clasped Elric*s shoul-
ders in his hands. "I am glad for I learned you were bound to
Sorcerers' Isle to seek the White Lords* help."

*Truc. Is their help, then, unobtainable?**

**Not yet We ourselves are trying to contact them, with me
aid of the hermit magicians of me islands, but so far Chaos
has blocked our attempts. But there is work for you and your
sword nearer to home. Come to my chamber and refresh
yourselves. We have some wine which will revitalise you and
when you have drunk your fill 111 tell you what task Fate has
decided for you now."

Eiric put down his cup and breathed in deeply, feeling
relaxed and invigorated. He pointed at me wine-jar and said:

"A man might easily become addicted to such a brewl"

"I'm addicted already,*' Moonglum grinned, pouring faim-
nelf another cup.

Sepiriz shook his head. "It has a strange quality, our
Nihrain wine. It tastes pleasant and refreshes the weary, yet
once his strength is regained me man who drinks it then is
nauseated. That is why we stfll have some in our cellars. But
our stocks are low—the vines from which it was made have
long since passed from the Earth."

"A magic potion," Moonglum said, replacing his cup on
the table.

"If you like to so designate it Eiric and I are of an earlier
age when magic was normal and Chaos ruled, if more quietly
than now. You men of the Young Kingdoms are perhaps
right to loathe it as you do, for we hope to ready me world
for Law soon and then, perhaps, tbcy*u find similar brews by

more painstaking methods, methods they can understand bet*
ter."

"I doubt it," Moonglum laughed.
Eiric sighed. "If we are not ludder man we have been,

87

STORMBRINGER

we*u see Chaos unleashed on me globe and Law forever van-
quished,** he said gloomily.

"And no luck for us if Law is triumphant, eh?" Sepiriz
poured himself a cup of the wine, showing that be, also, must
be weary with his own efforts.

"What do you mean?" Moonglum asked curiously.

Sepiriz told him that he and Eiric, though fighting Chaos,
were actually fitted to a world where Chaos, to a great extent,
was dominant In the worid they hoped for, where Law ruled,
there would be no place for their like.

Moonglum looked sharply at Eiric, understanding that
much more of his friend's unenviable predicament.

"You said there was work for me and my sword, Sepiriz.*'
JBuic leaned forward. "What's its nature?"

"You have no doubt already learned that Jagreen Lem has
summoned the Dukes of Hell to captain his men and keep bis
conquered lands under control?"

-Yes."

"You understand the import of this. Jagreen Lem has
succeeded in making a sizeable breach in the Law-constructed
barrier which has hitherto kept me creatures of Chaos from
wholly ruling the planet He is forever widening this breach
/ as his power increases. This explains how he could summon
'} such a mighty assembly of Hell's nobility where, in the past
i it was hard to bring one to our plain. Arioch is among
^ them .. ."

4    "Ariochi" Arioch was Euic's patron, the principle god wor-
^ shipped by his ancestors. "Then I am now a total outcast un-
.,;' protected either by Law or by ChaosF

"Your only dose supernatural ally is your sword," Sepiriz
said grimly. "And, perhaps, its brothers."

"What brothers? There is only me sister-sword Moumblade
which Dyvim Slorm has!'1

"Do you remember that I told you how the twin swords
were actually only an earthly manifestation of their supernat-
ural selves?" Sepiriz said calmly.

"Yes.-

"Well. I can ten you now that Stonnbrmger's 'real' being is
related to other supernatural force* on another plane. I know
how to summon them, but these relations are also creatures
of Chaos and therefore, as far as you're concerned, somewhat
hard to control. They could well get out of hand in some

88

Michael Moorcock

way—perhaps even tura against you. Stormbringer, as you
have discovered in the past, is bound to you by ties even
stronger than those which bind it to its brothers, but its broth-
era outnumber it and Stormbringer might not be able to pro-
tect you against them.**

"Why have I never known this?"

"You have known it, in a way. Do you remember times
when you have called for help and help has come?"

"Yes. You mean that this help has been supplied by
Stormbringer's brethren?"

"I do. Already they are used to coming to your help. They
are not what you and I would call 'intelligent,' though sen-
tient, and are therefore not so strongly bound to Chaos as its
reasoning servants. They can be controlled, to a degree, by
anyone who has power such as you have over one of their
brothers. If you need their help, you will need to remember a
rune which I shall tell you later."

"And what is my task?"

*To destroy me Dukes of Heu.**

"But that's impossible. They are one of me mightiest
groups ifl the entire domain of Chaos!**

True. But you control one of the mightiest weapons. That
Is your task. Already mere are hints that the Demon Dukes
have taken some of Jagreen Lem's power from him. The
fool. He stfll refuses to realise mat he is a puppet of Chaos
and thinks he can rule over such supernatural might as the
Dukes represent But it is a certainty mat with these friends
Jagreen Lem can defeat the Southlands with a minimum of
expenditure in arms and men. Without them he could do
h—but It would take more time and effort and therefore give
us a slight advantage to prepare against him white he subdues
the Southlands,"

Eiric did not bother to ask Sepiriz how he knew of the
Southerners* decision to fight Jagreen Lern alone. Sepiriz ob-
viously had many powers as was proved by his ability to coo-
tact Brie through the seer.

"I have sworn to help the Southlands in spite of their re-
fusal to side with us against me Theocraf" he said calmly.

"And you'll keep your oath—by destroying the Dukes if
you can.**

"Destroying Arioch, and Balaa and Maluk . . .** Eiric

STORMBRINGER            89

whispered the names, fearful that even here he might invoke
them.

"Arioch has always been an intractable demon,** Moon-
glum pointed out "Many's the time in the past he has refused

to aid you, Eiric.'*

"Because," Sepiriz said, "be already had some knowledge
that you and he were to fight in the future.'*

Though the wine bad refreshed his body, Eiric began to
ache in different ways. The strain on his soul was almost at
breaking point To fight the demon-god his ancestors had
worshipped for millenia ... The old blood was still strong in
him, the old loyalties stm present

Sepiriz rose and gripped EJric'a Shoulder, staring with black
eyes into the dazed and smouldering red.

"You have pledged yourself to this mission, remember."

Eiric drew himself upright, nodded vaguely. "Aye. And
even had I been given this knowledge before I made the
pledge, I would still have made it But.. •"

"What?"

"Do not place too much faith in my ability to fulfil this

part, Sepiriz.'*
The black Nihrain said nothing.

Later he left Eiric brooding and returned with a white tab-
let on which Old nines were engraved.

He handed it to the albino who received it wordlessly.

"Memoriae the spell," Sepiriz said soflty, "and then destroy
fee tablet But remember, only use it in an extreme
emergency for, as I warned you, Stormbringer's brethren may
refuse to aid you.**

Eiric made an effort and controlled his emotion. For a long
time, long after Moonglum had gone to rest, he studied the
rune, learning not only how to verbalise it but also me twists
of logic which he would have to understand, and the state of
mind into which he must put himself if h were to be effeo*
five.

When both he and Sepiriz were satisfied, Eiric allowed a
lave to take him to his sleeping chamber, but slumber came
hard to him and he spent the night in restless torment until a
slave came to wake him the next morning and found him
fully dressed and ready to ride for Pan Tang where the
Dukes of Hell were assembled.

Four

Through the stricken lands of the west rode BIric and Moon-
ghim, astride sturdy Nihrain steeds that seemed to need no
rest and contained no fear. The Nihrain horses were a special
gift, for they had certain additional powers to their unnatural
strength and endurance. Sepiriz had told them how, in fact,
the steeds did not have full existence on the earthly plane and
that their hooves did not touch the ground in the strict sense,
but touched the stuff of their other plane. This gave them the
ability to appear to gallop on air—or water.

Scenes of terror were everywhere to be found. At one time
they saw in the distance a frightful sight, a wild and hellish
mob destroying a village built around a castle. The castle it-
self was in flames and on the horizon a mountain gouted
smoke and fire. Though the looters had human shape, they
were degenerate creatures, spilling blood and drinking it with
equal abandon. And directing them without joining their orgy
Eiric and Moonglum saw what seemed to be a corpse astride
me living skeleton of a horse, bedecked in bright trappmgs, a
naming sword in its band and a golden helm on its head.

They skirted the scene and rode fast away from it, through
mists that looked and smelt like blood, over rivers dammed
with death, past rustling forests that seemed to follow them,
beneath skies often filled with ghastly winged shapes bearing
even ghastlier burdens.

At other times they met groups of warriors, many of them
m the armour and trappings of the conquered nations, but
depraved and obviously sold to Cfaao*.

These they fought or avoided, depending on me circum-
stance and, when at last they reached die cliffs of Jharkor
and saw the sea which would take them to the Isle of Pan
Tang, they knew they had ridden through a land which had
become, literally, a hell on earth.

90

STORMBRINGER            91

Scarcely stopping, Eiric and Moonglum rode their horses
over the water towards the evil-heavy island of Pan Tang
where Jagreen Lem and his terrible allies prepared to sail
with their giant fleet and smash the seapower of me south be-
fore conquering the Southlands themselves.

"Eirici" Moonglum called above the whining wind, **ahould
we not proceed with more caution?**

"Caution? What need of that when me Dukes of Heu must
surely know their turncoat servant comes to fight theml**

Moonglum pursed his long lips, disturbed, for Eiric was m
a wild, maddened mood. He got little comfort, also, from the
knowledge that Sepiriz had charmed his short-aword and his
sabre both. with one of the few white spells be had at his
command.

Now the bleak cliffs of Pan Tang were in sight, apray-
lashed and ominous, the sea moaning about them as if in
some special torment which Chaos could inflict on nature it-
self.

And also around the island a peculiar darkness hovered,
shifting and changing.

They entered the darkness as the Nihrain steeds pounded
up the steep, rocky beach of Pan Tang, a place that had al-
ways been ruled by its black priesthood, a grim theocracy
that had sought to emulate the legendary sorcerer-kings of
the Bright Empire of Mclnibone. But Eiric, last of those
kings, and landless now with few subjects, knew that me dark
arts had been natural and lawful to his ancestors, whereas
these human-beings had perverted themselves to worship an
unholy hierarchy they barely understood.

Sepiriz had given them their route and they galloped across
the turbulent land towards the capital—Hwamgaarl, City of
Screaming Statues.

Pan Tang was an island of green, shiny, obsidian rock that
gave off bizarre reflections; rock that seemed alive.

Soon they could see the looming walls of Hwamgaarl m
the distance. As they drew nearer, an army of black-cowied
swordsmen, chanting a particularly horrible litany, seemed to
rise from the ground ahead.

Eiric had no time to spare for these, recogniseable as a de-
tachment of Jagreen Lero's warrior-priests.

"Up, steedl" be cried and the Nihrain horse leapt sky-
wards, passing over the disconcerted priests with a fantastic

Michael Moorcock

bound. Moonglum did likewise, his laughter mocking them
u he and his friend thundered on towards Hwamgaaril

Their way was dear for *ome distance, since Jagrcca Lern
had evidently expected the detachment to hold the pair at
least for some time.

But when the City of Screaming Statues was barcty a mile
away, die ground began to grumble and gaping cracks split
its surface. This did not overiy disturb them, for the Nihrain
horses had no use for earthly tenam in any case.

The sky above seemed to heave and shake itaelf, the
darknftss became flushed with streaks of ^""i"*1"* ebony, and
from the fissures m the ground, monstrous shapes fpraag up!

Vulture-headed lions, fifteen feet high, prowled in hungry
anticipation towards them, their feathered maaes rustling as
they approached.

To Moonglum's frightened astonishment, Eiric laughed and
the Eastlander knew his friend had gone mad.

But Eiric was ft*n»nu>r with this ghoulish pack since his
own ancestors had formed it for their own purposes a dozen
centuries before.

Evidently, Jagreea Lcrn had discovered the pack nuking
on the bordera between Chaos and Earth and had utilised it
without being aware of how it had been created.

Old words formed on Eiric's pale lips and he spoke affec-
tionately to the towering bird-beasts.

They ceased their progress toward him and glanced uncer-
tainly around them, their loyalties evidently divided.

Feathered tails lashed, daw worked in and out of pads,
scraping great gashes ia the rock.

And, taking advantage of this, Eiric and Moonglum
walked their horses through mem and emerged just as a
droning but angry voice rapped from the heavens, ordering,
in the High Tongue of Mehubone; "Destroy themT'

One lion-vulture bounded uncertainly towards them. An-
other followed it and another, till the whole pack raced to
catch them.

"Faster!" Eiric whispered to the Nihrain horse, but the
steed could hardly keep the distance separating them.

There was nothing for it but to turn. Deep in the recesses
of his memory he recalled there was a certain spell he had
teamed as a child. Au the old spells of Memibone had been
passed on to him by his father with the warning that. in these

STORMBRINGER            93

times, many of them were virtually useless. But there had
been one—the spell for calling the vulture-headed Uons and
another spell...

Now he remembered it! The spell for sending them back to
the domain of Chaos. Would it work.?

He adjusted his mind, sought the words he needed as the
beasts plunged on towards him.

Creatures! Matik of Melnibone made thee
From stuff of unformed madness!
If thou wouldst live as thou art now.
Get hence, or Afatik's brew again shall bet

The creatures paused and, desperately, Eiric repeated Ac
spell, afraid that he had made a small mistake, either within
his mind or in the words.

Moonglum, who bad drawn his horse up beside Eiric, did
not dare speak his fears, for he knew the albino sorcerer must
not be hindered while spell-making. He watched in trepida-
tion as the leading beast gave voice to a cawing roar.

But Eiric heard the sound with relief, for it meant the
beasts had understood his threat and were still bound to obey
the spell.

Slowly, half-reluctantly. they crawled down into the fissures
and vanished.

Sweating, Eiric said triumphantly: "Luck is with us so farl
JagrccD Lern either under-estimated my powers or else this is
all he could summon with his own! More proof, perhaps, that
Chaos uses him and not the other way about!"

"Tempt not such luck by speaking of it," Moonglum said
warniagly. "From what you'd told me, these are puny things
compared with that which we must soon face!**

Eiric shot an angry look at his friend and nodded briefly.
He did not like to think of his coming task.

Now they neared the huge walls of Hwamgaarl. At inter-
vals along the walls, which slanted outwards at an angle to
encumber potential besiegers, they saw the screaming stat-
ues—once men and women whom Tagreen Lern and his fore-
fathers had turned to rock but allowed them to retain then-
life and ability to speak. They spoke little, but screamed
much, their ghastly shouts rolling over the disgusting city like
the tormented voices of the damned—and damned they were.

94 Michael Moorcock

These sobbing waves of sound were horrifying even to El-
ric's ears, familiar with such sounds as they were.

Then another noise blended with them as die mighty port-
cullis of Hwamgaart's main gate squealed upwards and from
it poured a host of well-aimed men.

"Evidently. Jagreen Lem's powers of sorcery have been ex-
hausted for the meantime and the Dukes of Hell disdain to
join him in a fight against a pair of mere mortals!" Eiric said,
reaching with his right band for the hilt of his black rune-
sword hanging at his left hip.

Moonglum was beyond speech. Wordlessly he drew both
his own charmed blades, knowing he must fight and vanquish
his own fear before be could encounter the men who ran at
him.

With a wild howl that drowned out the screams from the
statues, Stormbringer climbed from the scabbard and stood in
Eric's hand, waiting in anticipation for the new souls it
might drink, for the life-stuff which it could pass on to Eiric
and fill him with dark and stolen vitality.

Eiric half-cringed at the feel of his blade in his damp hand.

But be shouted to the advancing soldiers: "See jackals! See
the sword! Forged by Chaw to vanquish Chaoal Come, let it
drink your souls and spill your blood! We are ready for you!"

He did not wait but, with Moongluro behind him, spurred
the Nihrain horse into the ranks, hewing about him with
something of the old delight

Now. so symbioticauy linked with the hell-blade was he.
that a hungry joy of killing swept through him, the joy of
soul-stealing which drew a surging, unholy vitality into his
deficient veins.

Though there were over a hundred warriors blocking hia
path to the still-open gate. he smashed a bloody path through
them and Moonglum, seized by something akin to his friend's
mood, was equally successful in dispatching all who came
against him.

Familiar with horror as they were, the soldiers soon be-
came loath to approach the screaming runesword as it shone
with a peculiarly brilliant light—a black light that pierced the
blackness itself.

Laughing in his half-insane triumph, Eiric felt the callous
joy that his ancestors must have felt long ago when they con-
quered the world and made it kneel to the Bright Empire.

STORMBRINGER            95

Chaos was, indeed, fighting Chaos—but Chaos of an older,
cleaner sort come to destroy me perverted upstarts who
thought themselves as mighty as the Dragon Lords of Melni-
bonet

A bloody trench had formed in the enemy's ranks and
through this the pair plunged until the gateway gaped like a
monster's maw before them.

Without pausing. Eiric rode laughing through H and people
scuttled to hiding as he entered, in bizarre triumph, the City
of Screaming Statues.

"Where now?" gasped Moonglum, all fear driven from
him.

To the Theocrafs Temple-palace, of courae. There Arioch
and his fellow duke no doubt await us)"

Through the echoing streets of me city they rode, proud
and terrible, as if with an army at their backs. Dark buildings
towered above them but not a face dared peep from a win-
dow. Pan Tang had planned to rule the worid—and it might
yet—but for the moment its denizens were fully demoralised
by me sight of two men taking their huge city by storm.

They pulled their horses to a halt as they reached the wide
plaza and saw the huge bronze sepulchre swinging on its
chains in the centre. Beyond it rose Jagreen Lem*s palace, all
columns and towers* ominously quiet

Even the statues had ceased to scream and the horses'
hooves made no sound as Eiric and Moonghun approached
the sepulchre. The blood-reddened runesword was still in El-
ric's hand and with it he took a mighty sweep at the Chains
supporting the sepulchre—the holiest vessel of this unholy
place. The supernatural blade bit into toe metal and severed
the links.

The crash as the sepulchre dropped and smashed was mag-
nified a thousand times by me silence. The noise echoed
throughout Hwamgaarl and every inhabitant left alive knew
what it aignified.

Thus I challenge tbee, Jagreen LornF Eiric shouted,
aware that these words would also be heard by everyone. "I
have come to pay UK debt I promisedl Come, puppetl" be
paused, even his triumph not sufficient to fully quench his
nervousness at what be must say now. "Cornel Bring Hell's
Dukes with you—w

96 Michael Moorcock

Moonglum swallowed, his eyes rolling as he studied Eiric'a
twisted face. The albino continued:

"Bring Arioch, and Balao, and Maluk! Bring the proud
princes of Chaos with you for I have come to send them
back to their own realm forever!"

The silence again enfolded his high-chaDenge and he heard
its echoes die away in the far places of die city.

Then, from somewhere inside die palace, he heard a move-
ment His heart pounded against his rib-cage^ threatening to
break through the bones and hang throbbing on his chest as
proof of his mortality.

He heard a sound like die clopping of monstrous hooves
and ahead of it the measured' steps that must be those of a
man.

His eyes fixed themselves on die great golden doors of d»
palace, half-hidden in UK shadows that die columns threw.

The doors began to open sflently.

Then a figure, dwarfed by die size of die doors, stepped
forth and stood mere regarding Eiric with a horrible anger
smouldering hi its eyes.

On its body scarlet armour glowed as if red-hot On its left
arm was a shield of die same stuff and in its hand a steel
fword.

Jagreen Lern, said in a voice that trembled with rage:

"So, King Eiric, you have kept part of your word, after

an."

"And I plan to keep die rest of it," Eiric said widi sudden
calm. "Step forward, dieocrat 1*11 meet you fairly in single
combat**

Jagreen Lem gave a sneering, hollow laugh.

•Tairiy? Widi that blade in your hand? Once I met it and
did not perish, but now it bums with die blood and souls of a
score of my best warrior-priests. I would not be so foolish.
No—let diose you have challenged meet you."

He stepped to one side.

The doors gaped wider and if Eiric expected giant figures
to emerge, he was disappointed. The dukes had assumed die
forms of men.

But there was a power about diem mat filled die air as
diey moved to stand, disdainful of Jagreen Lern, upon die
topmost step of die palace.

Eiric glimpsed their beautiful, smiling faces and shuddered

STORMBRINGER            97

again, for diere was a kind of love on dieir faces, a kind of
pride—a kind of confidence so that, for a moment, he was
filled widi die wish to jump from his horse and fling himself
1 dieir feet to plead forgiveness for what he had become.

"Well. Eiric," said Arioch. the leader, sofdy. "Would you
repeat and return to us?" The voice was silvery in its beauty
and Eiric half-made to dismount.

But then be clapped bis hands to his ears, die runesword
hanging by its wrist-throng, and cried:

"No! No! I must do what I must! Your time, like mine, is

overt"

"Do not speak dius, Eiric," Balan said persuasively, bis
words passing Eiric's hands and whispering in his skutl.
**Chaos has never been dus powerful on Earth—not even in
earliest days. We shall make you great—we shall make you a
Lord of Chaos, equal to ourselves! We give you immortality,
Eiric. If you behave so foolishly as you behave now, you will
bring yourself only death and none shall remember you."

"I know diat! I would not wish to be remembered in a
world ruled by Law!"

Maluk laughed sofdy.

That will never come to pass. We block every move diat
Law makes to try to bring help to Earth."

**And this is why you must be destroyed!*' Eiric cried.

"We are immortal—we can never be slain!" Arioch said,
and diere was a tinge of impatience in his voice.

"Then I shall send you back to Chaos in such a way that
you shall never have power on the Earth again!"

Eiric swung his runeblade into his hand and it trembled
diere. moaning quietly as if unsure of itself, )ust as he was.

**See!" Balan walked part-way down the steps. "See—even
your trusted sword knows diat we speak truth."

"You speak a sort of tnidi." Moooglum said in a quaver-
ing tone, astonished at his own bravery. "But I remember
something of a greater truth—a law that should bind both
Chaos and Law—the Law of die Balance. The Supreme
Spirit holds diat balance over the earth and it should be that
Chaos and Law war to keep diat balance straight Sometimes
the balance tips one way, sometimes another—and dius are
die ages of die Earth created. But an incqual balance of this
magnitude is wrong. In your struggling you of Chaos may

have forgotten this!"

**We have forgotten h for good reason, mortal. The bal-

98 Michael Moorcock

ance has tipped to nidi an extent in our favour that it is no
longer adjustable. We triumph I"

Eiric used this pause to collect himself. Sensing his
renewed strength, Stormbringer responded with a confident
purr.

The dukes also sensed it and glanced at one another.

Ariocb'a beautiful face seemed to fiare with anger and his
pseudo-body glided down the steps towards EJric, his fellow
dukes following.

Eiric's steed backed away a few paces.

A blot of living fire seemed to appear in Arioch*s hand and
it shot towards me albino. He felt cold pain in his chest and
he staggered in me saddle.

"Your body is unimportant, Eiric. But think of a similar
blow to your soul!" Arioch screamed, the facade of patience
dropping from him.

Eiric flung back his head and laughed. Arioch had be-
trayed himself. If he had remained calm he would have bad a
greater advantage, but now he showed himself perturbed,
whatever he had said to the contrary.

"Arioch—you aided me in the past. You wffl regret that!"

There's still time to undo my folly, upstart mortal!" An-
other bolt came streaking towards him but Eiric passed
Stormbringer before it and observed, in relief, that it deflect-
ed the unholy weapon.

But, against such might, they were surely doomed, unless
they could invoke some supernatural aid. But Eiric dared not
risk summoning his nmesword's brothers. Not yet He must
think of some other means.

As be retreated towards the searing bolts, Moonglum be-
hind him whispering almost impotent charms, he thought of
Ac vulture-lions he had sent back to Chaos. Perhaps he could
recall them—for a different purpose.

The spell was fresh in his mind, requiring a slightly
changed mental state and scarcely changed wording.

Calmly, working mechanically to deflect the bolts of the
dukes whose features had changed hideously to retain their
previous beauty but take on an increasingly malevolent ap-
pearance, he uttered the spell.

Creatures! Matik of MeJnibone made thee
From stuff of unformed madness!

STORMBRINGER            99

// thou wouldst live, then aid me now,
Come hither, or Matik's brew again shall be!

From out of the rolling darks of the plaza, the beaked
beasts appeared, prowling.

Eiric yelled at the dukes. "Mortal weapons cannot harm
you! But these are beasts of your own plane—sample their
ferocity.** He ordered the vulture-lions upon the dukes.

Obviously put out by this. Arioch and his fellows backed
towards the steps again, calling their own commands to the
giant animals, but the things advanced, gathering speed.

Eiric saw Arioch shout, rave and then his body seemed to
split asunder and rise in a new, less recognisable shape as the
beasts attacked. AH was suddenly ragged colour, sound and
disordered matter.

Behind the embattled demons, Eiric saw Jagreen Lem run-
ning back into his palace. Hoping that the creatures he had
summoned would hold the dukes, Eiric rode his horse around
the boiling mass and galloped up the steps.

Through the doors the two men rode, catching a glimpse
of the terrified theocrat running before them.

"Your allies were not so strong as you believed, Jagreen
Lem!" Eiric yelled as he bore down upon his enemy. "Why,
you foolish latecomer, did you think your knowledge
matched that of a Melnibonean!"

Jagreen Lem began to climb a winding staircase, labouring
up me steps, too afraid even to look back.

Eiric laughed again and pulled his horse to a stop,
watching me running man:

"Dukes! Dukes!" sobbed Jagreen Lem as he climbed. "Do
not desert me now!"

Moonglum whispered. "Surely those creatures will not de-
feat the aristocracy of hell?**

Eiric shook his head. "I do not expect them to, but if I fin-
ish Jagreen Lem, at least it could put an end to his conquests
and demon-summoning." He spurred the Nihrain steed up the
steps after the theocrat who heard him coming and flung
himself into a room. Eiric heard a bar fall and bolts squeal.

When he reached the door it fell in at a blow of his sword
and he was in a small chamber. Jagreen Lem had disap-
peared.

100 Michael Moorcock

Dismounting, Etric went to a small door in me farthest
corner of the room and again demolished it A narrow stair
led upwards, obviously into a tower.

Now he could take his vengeance, he thought, as he
reached yet another door at the top of the stair and-drew
back bis sword to smite it. The blow fell, but the door held.

"Curse the thing, it is protected by charms!" he swore.

He was just about to aim another blow, when he heard
Moonglum's urgent calling from below.

"Eirici Eiric—they've defeated the creatures. They are re-
turning to the palace."

He would have to leave Jagreen Lern for the meantime.
He sprang down the steps, into the chamber and out on to
the stair. In the hall he saw the flowing shapes of the unholy
trinity. Half-way up the stair, Moonglum was quaking.

"Stormbringer," said Eiric, "it is time to summon your
brothers."

The sword twisted in bis hand, as if in assent

Eiric began to chant the mind-torturing, throat-torturing
rune that Sepiriz had taught him.

Stormbringer moaned a counterpoint chorus to the dirge as
the battle-worn dukes assumed different shapes and began to
rise menacingly towards Eiric.

Then, in the air all about him, he saw shapes appear,
shadowy shapes half on his own plane, half on the plane of
Chaos. He saw them stir and suddenly it seemed as if the air
was filled with a million swords, each a twin to StonnbringerI

Acting on instinct, Eiric released his grip on his blade and
flung it towards the rest. It hung in the air before them and
they seemed to acknowledge it "Lead them, Stonnbrmgert
Lead them against the dukes—or your master perishes and
you'll not drink another human soul again!"

The sea of swords rustled and a dreadful moaning
emanated from them. The dukes flung themselves upwards
towards the albino and he recoiled before Ihe evil hatred that
poured from the twisting shapes.

Glancing down he saw Moonglum slumped in his saddle
and did not know if be had perished or fainted.

Then the swords rushed upon the reaching dukes and El-
ric's head swam with the sight of a million blades plunging
into the stuff of their beings.

The unholy noise of the battle filled his ears, the dreadful

STORMBRINGER           101

sight of (he toiling conflict clouded his vision. Without
Stormbringer's vitality he felt weak and limp. He felt his
knees shake and crumple and he could do nothing to aid the
black sword's brothers as they clashed with the Dukes of
Hell.

He collapsed, aware that if he witnessed such horror much
longer he would become totally insane. Thankfully, be felt his
mind go blank and then, at last, he was unconscious, unable
to know which would win.

Five

His body itched. His arms and bade ached. His wrists pound-
ed with agony. Eiric opened his eyes.

Immediately opposite him, spreadeagled in chains against
the wall he saw Moonglum. Dull flame nickered in the centre
of the place and he felt pain cm his naked knee, looked down
and saw Jagreen Lern.

The Theocrat spat at him.

"So," Eiric said hoHowly. "I failed. You triumph after aD.**

Jagreen Lem did not look triumphant Rage still burned in
his eyes.

"Oh, how shall I punish you," he said.

"Punish me? Then—?** Elric*s heartbeat increased.

"Your final spell succeeded," the Theocrat said dully, turn-
ing away to contemplate the brazier. "Both your allies and
mine vanished and all my attempts to contact the dukes have
proved fruitless. You achieved your threat—or your minions
did—you sent them back to Chaos foreveri"

"My sword—what of that?"

The Tbeocrat smiled bitterly. "That's my only pleasure.
Your sword vanished with its brothers. You are weak and
helpless now, Ebic. You are mine to maim and torture until
the end of my life."

Eiric was dumbfounded by the news. Part of him rejoiced
that the dukes had been beaten. Part of him lamented the
loss of his sword. As Jagreen Lem had emphasised, without
the blade he was less than half a man, for his albinoism
weakened him. Already bis eye-sight was dimmer and he felt
no response in his limbs.

Jagreen Lem looked up at him.

"Enjoy the comparatively painless days left you, Eiric, but
I leave you to anticipate what I have in store for you. I must
away and instruct my men in the final preparations for the
war-fleet soon to sail against the South. I won't waste time
102

OTORMBRINGER            103

with crude torture now. for all the while I shall be scheming
the most exquisite tortures conceivable. You shall take long
years to die. I swear!"

He left the cell and as the door slammed he heard Jagreen
Lem instructing the guard.

"Keep the brazier at full blast. Let them sweat like damned
souls in bell. Feed them enough to keep them alive once ev-
ery three days. They will soon be crying for water. Give them
only sufficient to sustain their lives. They deserve far worse
than this and they'll get their desserts when my mind has had
time to work on the problem."

A day later, the real agony began. Their bodies gave out
the last of their sweat Their tongues were swollen m their
heads and all the time as they groaned in their torment, they
were aware that this terrible torture would be nothing com-
pared to what they might expect Eiric's weakened body
would not respond to his desperate struggling and at length
his mind dulled, the agony became constant and familiar, and
time was non-existent

Finally, through a pain-thick daze, be recognised a voice.
The hate-filled voice of Jagreen Lem.

Others were in the chamber. He felt their bands seize him
and his body was suddenly light as he was borne, moaning
from the cell.

Though he heard disjointed phrases he could make no
sense of Jagreen Lern's words.

He was taken to a dark place that rolled about, hurting his
scorched chest

Later, be heard Moonglum's voice and strained to hear the
words.

"Eirici What's happening? We're aboard a ship at sea, Fd
awearr

But Eiric mumbled disinterestedly. Gradually his deficient
body was weakening, faster than would a normal man's. He
thought of Zarozinia, whom he would never see again. He
knew he would not live to know whether Law or Chaos fi-
nally won, or even if die Southlands would stand against the
theocrat

And tbeae problems were fading in his mind again.

Then the food started to come and die water and it revived
turn somewhat At some stage, he opened his eyes and stared
upwards into the thinly smiling face of Jagreen Lem.

104 Michael Moorcock

"Thank the gods,** said die Theocrat "I feared we'd lost
you. You're a delicate case to be sure, my friend. You must
stay alive longer than this. To begin my entertainment, I have
arranged for you to sail on my own flagship. We are now
crossing the Dragon Sea, our fleet well-protected by charms
against the monsters roaming these parts." He forwned.
*Thanks to you, we haven't the same call for the charms
which would have borne us safely through me chaos-torn
waters. They are almost normal for the moment. But that will
soon be changed.**

Eh-ic's old spirit returned for a moment and he glared at
his enemy, too weak to voice the loathing he felt.

Jagreen Lern laughed sofly and stirred Eric's gaunt white
head with the toe of his boot "I think I can brew a drug
which will give you a little more vitality."

The food was foul-tasting and had to be forced between
Eric's mumbling lips, but after a while he was able to sit up
and observe the huddled body of Moonglum. Evidently me
little man had totally succumbed to his torture. To bis sur-
prise, EIric discovered he was unfettered and he crawled the
agonising distance between himself and the Eastlander, shak-
ing Moonglum's shoulder. He groaned but did not respond.

A Shaft of dim light appeared and Biric looked up to see
mat the hatch-cover bad been prised aside and Jagreen Lem
stared down at him.

"I see the brew had its effect. Come, EIric, smell the invig-
orating sea and fed the warm sun on your body. We are not
many infles from the coasts of Argimiliar and our scout-ships
report quite a sizeable fleet sailing hence."

EIric cursed. "By Arioch, I hope they send you all to the
bottom I**

Jagreen Lern pursed his lips mockingly. "By whom? Ari-
och? Do you not remember what ensued in my own palace?
Arioch cannot be invoked. Not by you—not by me. Your
stinking spells saw to that**

He turned to an invisible lieutenant "Bind him and bring
him on deck. You know what to do with him.**

Two warriors dropped into me hold and grasped the still-
weak EIric, tying his arms and legs and manhandling hiffl on
to the deck. He gasped as the sun's glare struck his eyes.

"Prop him up so be may see all," Jagreen Lero ordered.

The warriors obeyed and EIric was lifted to a sending

STORMBRINGER            105

position, seeing Jagreen Lcm's huge, black flagship with its
silken deck canopies flapping in a steady westerly breeze, its
three banks of straining oarsmen and its tall ebony mast bear-
ing a sail of dark red.

Beyond the ship's rails, EIric saw a massive fleet surging in
the flagship's wake. As well as the vessels of Pan Tang and
Dharijor there were many from Jharkor, Shazar and Tarkesh
but on every scariet sail the Merman blazon of Pan Tang was
painted.

Depression filled EIric, for he knew that the Southlands,
however strong, could not match a fleet like this.

**We have been at sea for only three days," said Jagreen
Lem, "but thanks to a witch-wind, we're almost at our des-
tination. A scout ship has recently reported that the Lor-
myrian navy, hearing rumours of our superior sea-power, is
sailing to join with us. A wise move of King Montan—for
the moment, at any rate. Ill make use of him for the time
being and, when his usefulness is over, HI have him killed for
the treacherous turncoat he is.**

"Why do you tell me all this?" EIric whispered, his teeth
gritted against the pain that came with any slight movement
of his face or body.

"Because I want you to witness for yourself tee defeat of
the South. I want you to know that what you sought to avert
wfll come to pass. After we have subdued the South and
sucked her of her treasures, we*M vanquish the Isle of tee
Purple Towns and press forward to sack Vilmir and flmion,
That wffl be an easy matter don't you agree?"

When EIric did not reply, Jagreen Lem gestured impa-
tiently to his men.

"Tie him to me mast so that he may get a good view of
the battle. HI put a protective charm around his body, for I
do not want him to be killed by a stray arrow and cheat me
of my full vengeance.**

EIric was borne up and _roped to the mast, but he was
scarcely aware of it, for his head lolled on his right shoulder,
only semi-conscious.

The massive fleet plunged onwards, certain of victory.

By mia-ufternoon EIric was aroused from his stupor by the
shout of the helmsman.
"Sad to the south-east! Lormyrian fleet approaches.**

106 Michael Moorcock

With impotent anger, Eiric saw the fifty two-masted ships,
their sails bright against the sombre scarlet of Jagreen Lem's
vessels, come into line with the others.

Lormyr, though a smaller power than Argimiliar, had a
larger navy. Eiric judged that King Mootan's treachery had
cost the south more than a quarter of its strength.

Now he knew there was absolutely no hope for the south
and that Jagreen Lem's certainty of victory was well-founded.

Night fell and the huge fleet lay at anchor. A guard came
to feed Eiric a mushy porridge containing another dose of the
revitalising drug. As he revived, his anger increased, and
Jagreen Lern paused by the mast on two occasions, taunting
him savagely.

"Soon after dawn we shall meet the southern fleet,"
Jagreen Lem smiled, "and by noon what is left of it will float
as bloody driftwood behind us as we press on to establish our
reign over those nations who so foolishly relied on their sea-
power as defence."

Eiric remembered how he had warned the Icings of the
Southlands that this was likely to happen if they stood alone
against the theocrat. But he wished that he had been wrong.
With the defeat of the south, the conquest of the east seemed
bound to follow and, when Jagreen Lera ruled the world,
Chaos would dominate and the earth revert to the sniff from
which it had been formed millions of years before.

AU through that moonless night he brooded, pulling his
thoughts together, summoning all his strength for a plan that
was, as yet, only a shadow in the back of his mind.

Six

The rattle of anchors woke him.

Shaking in the light of the watery sun. he saw the southern
fleet on the horizon, riding gracefully in hollow pomp towards
the ships of Jagreen Lem.

Either, he thought, the southern kings were very brave or
else they did not understand the strength of their enemies.

Beneath him, on Jagreen Lem's foredeck, a great catapult
rested, and slaves had already filled its cup with a large hall
of flaming pitch. Normally. Eiric knew, such catapults were an
encumbrance, since when they reached that size they were
difficult to rewind and gave lighter war-machines the advan-
tage. Yet obviously Jagreen Lem's engineers were not fools.
Eiric noted extra mechanisms on the big catapult and realised
they were equipped to rewind rapidly.

The wind had dropped and five hundred pairs of muscles
alone strove to row Jagreen Lem's galley along. On the deck,
in disciplined order, his warriors took their posts beside the
great boarding platforms that would drop down on to op-
ponent ships and grapple them at the same time as they
formed a bridge between the vessels.

Eiric was forced to admit that Jagreen Lern had used fore-
right. He had not relied wholly on supernatural aid. His ships
were the best equipped he had ever seen.

The southern fleet, Eiric decided, was doomed. To fight
Jagreen Lem was not bravery—it was insanity.

But Jagreen Lern had made one mistake. He had, in his
gnawing desire for vengeance, ensured that Ekic's vitality
was restored for a few hours and this vitality extended to his
mind as well as his body.

Stormbringer had vanished. With the sword he was. among
men. all but invincible. Without it, he was helpless. These
were facts. Therefore he must somehow regain the blade. But
how? It had returned to the plane of Chaos with its brothers,
107

108 Michael Moorcock

presumably drawn back there by the overwhelming force of
me rest

He must contact it

He dare not summon me entire horde of blades with spell,
that would be tempting providence too far.

He heard the sudden thwack and roar as the giant catapult
discharged its first shot. The flame-shrouded pitch went
arching over the ocean and landed short, boiling me sea
around it as it guttered and sank. Swiftly the war-engine was
rewound and he marvelled at the speed as another ball of
flaring pitch was forked into its cup. Jagreen Lcm looked up
at him and laughed.

"My pleasure will be short—mere are not enough of them
to put up a decent fight Watch them perish, Eiric!"

Brie said nothing, pretended to be dazed and frightened.

The next fireball struck one of the leading ships directly
and Eiric saw tiny figures scampering about, striving desper-
ately to quench the spreading pitch, but within a minute the
whole ship was ablaze, a gouting mass of flame as me figures
now jumped overboard, unable to save their vessel.

Now the air around him sounded to the rushing heat of the
fireballs and within range now, the southerners retaliated with
their lighter machines until it seemed the sky was filled with a
thousand comets and the heat almost equalled that which Ei-
ric had experienced in the torture chamber.

Mack smoke began to drift as the brass beaks of the ships*
rams ground through timbers, impaling ships like skewered
fish. The hoarse yells of fighting men began to sound and Ei-
ric heard the dash of iron as the first few opposing warriors
met

But now be only vaguely beard me sounds, for he was con-
cenfrating.

At last he was ready and, aware that his voice would prob-
ably not be heard by human ears above the noise of war,
called in a desperate and agonising voice: "Stormbringer!"

His straining mind echoed the shout and he seemed to look
beyond the turbulent battle, beyond the ocean, beyond the
very earth to a place of shadows and terror. Something
moved there. Many things moved there.

"StormbringerI**

He heard a curse from beneath him and saw Jagreen Lem
pointing up at him.

STORMBMNGER           109

"Gag the whitefaced sorcerer." Jagreen Lcrn's eyes met El-
ric's and the theocrat sucked in his tips, deliberating a bare
moment before adding: "And if that doesn't put an end to
his babbling—slay him!"

The lieutenant began to climb the mast towards Eiric.

**Stormbringerl Your master perishesi"

He struggled in the biting ropes but could hardly move.

"Stormbringer!**

All his life he had hated the sword he relied so much upon.
Now he called for it as a lover calls for his betrothed.

The warrior grasped his foot and shook it "Silence! You
beard my master."

With insane eyes, Eiric looked down at the warrior who
shuddered and drew his sword, hanging to the mast with one
hand and readying himself to make a stab at Eiric's vitals.

*Stormbringeri" Eiric sobbed the name. He must Kve.
Without him. Chaos would surely nde the world.

The man hinged at Elric*s body—yet the blade did not
reach the albino. Then Eiric remembered, with sudden hu-
mour, that Jagreen Lcrn had placed a protective spell about
him! The Thcocrat's own magic had saved his enernyl

**Stormbringerr

Now the warrior gasped and the sword dropped from hia
fingers. He seemed to grapple with something invisible at his
throat and Eiric saw me man's fingers sliced off and blood
sport from the stumps. Then, slowly, a shape materialised
and, with bounding relief, the albino saw that it was a
•word—bis own runesword impaling the warrior and sucking

out his soult

The warrior dropped, but Stormbringer hung tn the air and
men turned to slash the ropes restraining Eiric's hands and
men nestled firmly, with horrid affection, in ita master's right

fist

At once the stolen life-stuff of the warrior began to pour
through Eiric's being and the pain of his body vanished.
Quickly be grasped a piece of me sail's rigging and cut away
the rest of bis bonds until he was swinging by one hand on

tile rope.

"Now, Jagreen Lem. well sec who takes vengeance, fi-
nally."

He wrenched up (he hatch-cover and stared down at the
pitiful figure of his friend. Evidently he had been left to
starve to death. A rat scuttled away as the light shone down.

110 Michael Moorcock

Eiric jumped into the hold and saw. with horror, that part
of Moonglum's right arm had been gnawed already. He
heaved the body on to his shoulder, aware that the heart still
beat, though faintly, and clambered back on to the deck.

How to ensure his friend's safety and still take vengeance
on Jagreen Lem was a problem. But Eiric moved towards the
boarding platform which he guessed the theocrat to have
crossed. As he did so, three warriors leapt towards him. One
of them cried:

"The albino! The reaver has escaped F*

Eiric struck him down with a blow that required only a
flick of his wrist. The black sword did the rest The others re-
treated, remembering how Eiric had entered Hwamgaari.

New energy flowed through him. For every corpse he
killed, his strength increased—a stolen strength, but accessary
if he was to survive and win the day for Law.

He ran, untroubled by his burden, over the boarding plat-
form and on to the deck of the southern ship. Up ahead he
saw the standard of Argimiliar and a little group of men
around it, headed by King Hozel himself, his face gaunt as
he stared at the knowledge of his own death. A deserved
death, thought Eiric grimly, but nonetheless when Hozel died
it would mean another victory for Chaos.

Then he heard a shout of a different quality, thought for a
moment he had been observed, but one of Hozel's men was
pointing to the North sod mouthing something.

Eiric looked in the direction and saw, with mixed emo-
tions, the brave sails of the Purple Towns. They were brightly
painted and gay, some even embroidered, for the only rich
decoration die Sealords allowed themselves was upon their
sails.

But they had arrived belatedly. Even if they had sailed
with the other southern vessels it would have been unlikely
mat they could have turned the day against Pan Tang.

At that moment, staring around him, Jagreen Lem saw Ei-
ric and bellowed at his men who moved forward warily and
reluctantly, approaching me albino in a wide semi-circle,

Eiric cursed the brave Sealords who had added a further
factor to his indecision,

Menacingly he swung the moaning runeblade about him u
he advanced to meet the half-terrified Pan Tang wrriora.

STORMBRINGER            111

They dropped back, BOOM of them groaning as the blade
touched them. The way WM now dear to Jagreen LenL

But me ships of the Purple Towns were drawing closer, al-
most within catapult range.

Eiric looked directly into Jagreen Lcrn's frightened face
and snarled: "I doubt if my blade haa me strength to pierce
your burning armour with one blow, aad one blow is an I
have time for. I leave yon now, theocrat, but remember mat
even if you conquer all the world including me unknown
lands of me East, 111 have my sword drink your black soul at
length."

With that he dropped Moonglum's unconscious body over-
board acd dived after it into the choppy sea.

Resuming his hold on his friend's body, he began to swim
with superhuman strokes towards the leading vessel of the
Sealords. Kargan's ship.

Now, behind him, Jagreen Lem and his men saw their own
flagship blazing. Eiric had done his work well.

That, too, would serve to divert attention from Kargan's
fleet.

Trusting to me sealords* famed seamanship he swam
directly in the path of the leading galleon, shouting Kargan*s
name.

The ship veered slightly and he saw bearded faces at the
rail, saw ropes flicker towards him and grasped one, letting
them haul him upwards with his burden until he was pulled
over the side.

Kargan stared at him with shocked eyes.

"Eli-ici We thought you dead—and now I see you have
been, or worse!"

Eiric spat salt-water from his mouth and said urgently:

Turn your fleet, Kargani Turn it back the way it has
come, there is no hope of saving the Soutblandera—they are
doomed. We must preserve our forces for a later struggle."

Hesitating momentarily, Kargan gave the order which was
swiftly relayed to the rest of his sixty strong fleet.

As me ships turned away, Eiric noted that hardly a South-
ern ship remained afloat For more than a mile the water
burned and the spluttering of the flaming, sinking ships was
blended with the screams of the maimed and drowning.

112 Michael Moorcock

"With the Southern aeapower crushed so decisively," Kar-
gan said, watching the physician who was tending to Mooo-
glura, "the lands will not last long before Pan Tang's
marching hordes. Like us, the South relied too much on its
ships. It has taught me that we must strengthen our land de-
fences if we are to have any chance at all."

"From now on well use your island as our main headquar-
ters," Eiric said. "Well fortify the whole place and from
there keep in close touch with what is happening in the south.
How is my friend, physician?"

The physician looked up. These are no battle-made
wounds. He's been hurt sorely, but hell live. He should
recover to perfect fitness given a month or so of rest."

"He*H have it," Eiric promised. He gripped the nmesword
at his belt and wondered what other tasks lay in store for
mem before the last great battle between Law and Chaos was
joined.

Chaos would soon rule more than half me worid, in spite
of the powerful blow he had dealt it in forever sentencing the
Dukes of Hell to their own plane; the more power that
Jagreen Lem gathered, the more the threat from Chaos
would increase.

He sighed and looked Northwards.

Two days later they returned to the Isle of the Purple
Towns, the fleet remaining in the largest harbour of Utkel
since it was thought wise to have it at hand and not disperse
ft.

All that following night, Eiric talked with the Sealords, or-
dered messengers to Vilmir and IImiora and, towards morn-
ing, there came a polite knock on the door of the room.

Kargan got up to open it and stared in astonishment at the
tall, black-faced man who stood there.

"Sepiriz!" Eiric cried. "How did you come here?"

"On horseback," smiled the giant, "and you know me
power of the Nihrain steeds. I had come to warn you. We
have, at last, managed to contact the White Lords but they
can do little as yet Somehow a path to their plane must be
made through the barricades which Chaos has constructed
against them. Jagreen Lem's ships have vomited their con-
tents on the southern shores and his warriors swarm inland.
There is nothing we can do now to stop his conquests there.

STORMBRINGER           113

Once consolidated, his Earthly power increased, he win be
able to summon more and more allies from Chaos."

Then where does my next task lie?" Eiric asked softly.

"I am not sure yet. But that is not what I came for. Your
blade's sojourn with its brothers has strengthened it. You may
have noticed how swiftly it pours power into your body
now?"

Eiric nodded.

That power is evilly-gained and is evil in itself. The
blade's strength will continue to increase and yours will, also.
But, as Chaos-begotten power fills your being, you will have
to fight, yet more strongly, to control the force within you."

Eiric sighed and grasped Sepinz's arm.

Thanks for the warning, friend, but when I beat the
Dukes of Hell, to whom I formerly pledged allegiance, I did
not expect to escape with a mere scratch or a flesh-wound.
Know this, Sepiriz," he turned to the watching sealords, "and
know this all of you."

He drew the groaning runeblade from its scabbard and
held it aloft so that it shone and flared in its awful power.

This blade was forged by Chaos to conquer Chaos and
mat is my destiny, too. Though the world transmutes to
boiling gas I shall live. now. I swear by the Balance of the
Cosmos that Law shall triumph and New Age come to the
Earth."

Taken aback by this grim vow, the sealords glanced at one
another and Sepiriz smiled.

"Let us hope so, Eiric," he said. "Let us hope so."

BOOK THREE

Sad Giant's Shield

Thirteen times thirteen, the steps to the sad giants lair:

And the Chaos Shield lies there.
Seven time seven are the elder trees
Twelve times twelve warriors he sees
But the Chaos Shield lies there.
And the hero fair will the sad giant dare
And a red sword wield for the sad giant's shield
On a mournful victory day.

—The Chronicle of the Black Sword

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 hu-
man minions.

From Westland mountain, over me agitated ocean to
Southland plain. Chaos now held its monstrous sway. Tor-
mented, 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 hu-
man minions of Disorder, led by their warped Theocrat
Jagreen Lem of Pan Tang, aqufline, 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 Lem's initial on-
slaught. 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 Eiric of Melnibone, talked of strategy
and tactics in the full knowledge that more than these were
needed to beat back Jagreen Lem's unholy horde.

Desperately, Eiric attempted to utilise me 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, Eiric and his allies
117

118

Micfml Moorcock

watt about the preparation with heavy Routs and a sense of
die futility of such action. And, in the back of EIric's mind,
was the constant knowledge that even if he won against
Chaos, the very act of winning would destroy the worid be
knew and leave it ripe for the forces of Law to rule—and
there would be no place in such a worid foi 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 EIric'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 Elite'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 bal-
ance, 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 spin-
ning, which symbol would dominate, how changed would it
be?

Great movements, on the Earth and beyond it; great des-
tinies 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 Hasd, 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?

Eiric of Melniboof sat hunched in his saddle, watching the
warriors bustle to and fro around him in the city square of
Bakshaan, Here, years before* be had conducted a. siege

STORMBRINGER            119

against the city's leading merchant, tricked others and left
rich. but such scores that they held against him were now for-
gotten, pushed from their minds by me threat of war and the
knowledge that if Eiric's command could not save them,
nothing could. The waUs 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, Eiric had been riding the length and breadth
of the eastern kingdoms of Ilmiora and Vihnir. overseeing
preparations, building the strength of the two nations into an
efficient war machine.

Now be studied parchments handed him by his lieutenants
and, recalling all the old tactical skill of bis ancestors, gave
them his decisions.

The sun set and heavy black clouds hung against a sharp,
metallic blue sky, stretching over the horizon. Eiric loosened
his cloak strings and allowed the folds of the garment to en-
close him, for a chill had come.

Then, as he silently regarded the sky to the west, be
frowned as he noticed something like a flashing golden star
appear, moving swiftly towards him.

Ever wary for signs of the coming of Chaos,, be turned in
his saddle shouting:

"Every man to his position! Ware the golden globe!"

The thing approached rapidly until soon, it was hanging
aver die city, all men looking up at it in astonishment, their
hands on their weapons. As black night fell, the clouds admit-
ting no moonlight, the globe began to fall towards the spires
of Bakshaan, a strange luminescence pulsing from it. Eiric
tugged Stormbringer from its scabbard and black fire nick-
ered along die blade as it gave out a low moaning sound. The
globe touched die cobbles of die city-square—broke into a
million fragments that glowed for a moment before vanish-
ing.

Eiric laughed in relief, resheathing Stormbringer as be saw

who now stood in die place of die golden globe.

"Sepiriz, my friend. You choose strange means of transport
to carry you from die Gorge of Nihrain."

The tall, black-faced seer smiled, his white pointed -teem
|faM««"E "I have so few carriages of dial type dial I must
only use diem when pressed. I come with news for you—
much news."

120 Michael Moorcock

"I hope it is good, for we have enough bad to last us for-
ever.'*

"It is mixed. Where can we converse in private?"
"My headquarters are in yonder mansion," Eiric pointed at

a richly decorated house on the far side of the squaie.

Inside, Eiric poured yellow wine for his guest Kelos the
merchant, whose house this was, had not accepted the requi-
sitioning altogether willingly and, partly because of this, Eiric
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?" Eiric 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, me 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." Eiric said cheerfully.

"Not altogether. Jagreen Lem'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, ni ride for me 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. El-
ric." Sepiriz wanied him gravely. "Have you heard of the
ShysofHeUr"

"I've heard of them—do they not sail the depths of the
•ea, taking on board dead mariners as crews?**

"They do—they're things of Chaos and far larger man
even the largest mortal warship. You'd never withstand teem,
even if you did not have the theocrafs fleet to fight as well."

*Tm aware me fight wfll be hard, Sepiriz—but what else
can we do? I have a weapon against Chaoa in my blade
here.-

"Not enough, mat bodkin—you still have no protection
against Chaos. That is what I have to tell you about—a per-
sonal armament for yourself to help you in your struggle,
though you'll have to win it from its present possessor."

*Wbo possesses it?"

STORMBR1NGER           121

**A giant who broods in eternal misery in a great castle on
me edge of the world, beyond me Sighing Desert. His name
is Mordaga who was once a god but is now made mortal for

•ins 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 consider-
ably longer than an ordinary man's. He is obsessed with the
knowledge mat he must one day die. This is what saddens
him."

"And the weapon?"

"Not a weapon exactly—but a shield. A shield with a pur-
pose—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 ban-
ished to Earth and informed that he would one day die—
slain by a mortal blade. The shield, as you might guess, i&
proof against the workings of Chaos."

"How does it do this?" Eiric 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.

"Stormbnngcr has shown you mat the only weapon effec-
tiv; 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 me 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 sanc-
tioned 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 bands, Eirici"

"I'm becoming used to me burden my friend. How would I
recognise this shield?**

"By the eight-arrowed Sign of Chaos which radiates from

122 Michael Moorcock

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:

"Mordaga'S pride; Mordaga's doom,
Mordaga's fate shall be
To die as men when slain by men,
Four men of destiny."

"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. 1 must go to rally my men, shield or
no."

"You wiU be defeated."

"We shall see. Sepuiz."

"Very well, Eiric. Since so little of your destiny is in your
own bands, we should allow you to take Just one decision at
times,** Sepiriz smiled sympathetically.

"Fate is kind," Eiric commented ironically. He rose from
his seal "111 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, Eiric lashed his stallion through
the cold darkness of the night, through a disturbed land
which awaited Jagreen Lem'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 Jagreea Lem's as the kings of the
conquered lands chose his command rather than death—and
placed their peoples under bis dominance so that they became
marching, blank-faced creatures with enslaved souls, their
wives and children dead, tormented or feeding the blood-
washed altars of Pan Tang where the priests send up invoca-
tions 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, me land heaved like the sea, or the sea flowed
like lava, mountains changed shape and trees sprouted ghastly
blossoms never seen OD Earth before.

Wherever Jagreen Lern conquered, the warping influence
of Chaos was manifest. The very spirits of nature were tor-
tured into becoming what they should not be—air, fire, water
and earth, all became unstable, for Jagreen Lem and bis al-
lies 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, Eiric'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.

123

124 Michael Moorcock

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 disem-
barked and rode into the interior towards the ancient fortress
Ma-ha-kil-agreu which had withstood every siege ever made
against it* and was regarded as die most impregnable con-
struction 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 me current Age of the Young Kingdoms. Only Eiric
knew what the name signified. The fortress had been there
long before me present races came to dominance, even before
Elite's ancestors had begun their conquerings. Ma-ha-kU-
agra—me Fort of Evening, where long ago, a lonely race had
come to die.

As he arrived in the courtyard, Moonglum, the Easflander,
came rushing from the entrance of a tower.

"EIrict We have been awaiting your arrival, for time grows
acarce before we must embark against the enemy. We nave
Bent out ship-borne spies to estimate me size and power of
Jagreen Lem's fleet Only four returned and all were uselessly
insane. The fifth has Just come back, but—"

-Butwhatr

"See for yourself. He has been—altered, Eiric.**

"Alteredl Alteredl Let me see him. Take me to him." Eiric
nodded curdy 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 splut-
tering rushes.

Leading Eiric to an antechamber, Moonglum stopped out-
side, running his fingers through his thick, red hair. "He is
therein. Would you care to interview him alone? Fd rather
not set eyes on him again!"

"Very wen," Eiric opened the door, wondering how this
spy would be changed. Sitting at me plain wooden table, was
me remains of a man. It looked up. As Moonglum had
warned him—it had been altered.

Eiric felt pity for the man, but he was not nauseated or
horrified like Moonghim, for in his sorcery-working he had
seen far worse creatures. It was as if the whole of one side of
me 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

STORMBRJNGER            125

rat's tails, lumps of matter like swollen boils, weirdly mottled.
The spy spread his good band and some of the streamer

•eemed to jerk and wave in unison.

Eiric spoke quietly. "What magic wrought mis drastic
changer"

A kind of Chuckle came from the lopsided face.
"I entered the Realm of Chaos, lord. And Chaos did this, tt
changed me as you see. The boundaries are being extended. I
did not know it I was inside before I realised what had hap-
pened. The area of Chaos is being widened!" He leant for-
ward, his shaking voice almost screaming. "With it sail the
massed fleets of Jagreen Lem—great waves of warships,
aquadrons of invasion craft, thousands of transports, shun
mounting great war engines, fire-ships—ships of all kinds,
bearing a multitude of standards—me kings of the south left

•live have sworn loyally to Jagreen Lem and he has used all
their resources and his own to marshal this sea-horde! As he

•ails, he extends the area of Chaos, so whereas his sailing is
dower than normal, when he reaches us here—Chaos win be
with him. I saw such ships mat could be of no earthly con-
triving—the size of castles—each one seeming to be a daz*
ding combination of all coloursi"

**So be has managed to bring more supernatural allies to
his standard," Eiric roused. Those are the Ships of Hdl,
Scpiriz mentioned . . ."

"Aye—and even if we beat the natural craft." the messen-
ger said, hysterically, "we could not beat born the ships of
Chaos and me stuff of Chaos which boils around mem and
did to me what you observe! It boils, it warps, it changes con-
stantly. That is «Q I know, save that Jagreen Lem and hn hu-
man allies are unharmed by it as I was harmed. When mis
change began to take place in my body, I fled to me Dragon
Uto of Melnibone, which seems to have withstood me process
and is the only safe land in an the waters of the worid. My
body—healed—swiftly, and I chanced another sailing to
bring me here."

"You were courageous," Eiric said hoUowly. "You wfll be
wen 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
Bdrroring the horror in my brains!"

**I will see to it," Eiric promised. He remained brooding

126 Michael Moorcock

for a few seconds before nodding farewell to the spy and
leaving the room.

Moooglum met him outside.

"It looks blade for us, Eiric." he said softly.

Eiric sighed. "Aye—perhaps I should have gone to seek the
Chaos Shield first."

"What's thatr

Eiric 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 cap-
tains await you in the conference chamber.**

"I will see them in a short while," Eiric promised. "First I
wish to go to my own room to collect my thoughts. Tell them
HI )oin them when that's done."

When he reached his room, Eiric 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 Lem. And the fact was that he had only a compara-
tively 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 re-
gret 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 gnmoires that, in the form
of scrolls, tablets, books and sheets of precious metals en-
graved with ancient symbols, littered his room. The Elemen-
tals bad 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 me bed of
tumbled silks and furs. Wryly he thought back to earlier
times when be had given in to despair and how those in-
cidents which bad 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*a
stolen energy into himself, for the feeling that was so dose to
ecstacy 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.

STORMBRINGER

127

Eiric sighed and went to the window to stare oat over the
low hills and beyond them to the sea. He spoke aloud, per-
haps 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 be 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 teus me I must turn against Chaos and help
destroy the whole nature of die world I know or history
might never begin again, and Fate's great purpose would be
thwarted. Therefore J am the one who must be split and tem-
pered to fulfill my destiny—I must know no peace of mind,
must fight men and gods and the stuff of Chaos without sur-
cease, must bring about the death of this age so that, m some
far dawn-age, men who know little of sorcery or the Lords of
Ihe Higher Worlds, may move about a world where the major
forces of Chaos can no longer enter, where justice may actu-
ally 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 Eiric 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 or-
der that I may destroy evil and Chaos—but it does not make
me some senseless dolt easily convinced and a willing sacri-
fice. No, it makes me Eiric of Memibone 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, Eiric.'*

Recognising the •oft voice, but astonished nonetheless. El-
lie turned quickly towards the source and saw his wife, Zaro-
Kinia 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 an-
frOy: "When did you come here? Why? I told you to remain
m your father's palace at Kariaak until this business is done,
ifeverr

**H ever .. .** She repeated, dropping her arms to her sides
with a little shrug. Though scarcely more than a girl, with her

128 Michael Moorcock

full red lips and long blade: hair, die bore herself aft ft
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 be
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 be 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 oppor-
tunity to discover if be doesF

Eiric paced the room in agitation. "As I love you, Zaro-
zinia, believe that I would be in Kariaak 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 well meet
again, m joy—not in misery as we now must!"

He crossed to her and took her in his arms. "Oh, Zaro-
rinia, we should never have met, never have married. We can
only hurt one another at this time. Our happiness was so
brief.. .-

*1f 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 stffl 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?"                     i

He shook his bead. "Since you ask the question in malice,
m not make the attempt to answer it."

She cried suddenly: "Oh, Eirici I -faave travelled for many

STORMBRINGER            129

days to see you. thinking you would welcome me. And now
we speak m anger!"

"FearF 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 Kariaak. I bee
yon."                                                  ~

"If you wish it"

She walked back into the small chamber which joined the
main one.

Three

"We talk only of defeatF 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 Ac captain* retiring
through weariness. Kargan* Moonglum, Etric's cousin Dyvim
Slonn and moon-faced Dralab of Tarkesh. remained in the
chamber, pondering tactics.

Eiric 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 Lera We shall not have the forces to fight another
major batUe, so we must use our better knowledge of cur-
rents, 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 man they can of us.**

"Aye—I see the logic," Kargan rumbled unwillingly, evi-
dently disturbed by this talk for, if me major battle was lost,
then lost also would be the Isle of the Purple Towns, bastion
against Chaos for the «minly"<* nations of Vumir and Dnu-
ora.

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*Q 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 una-
wares. You are right And to allow for ordered retreat, I have
already sent detachments to die Sighing Desert and the
Weeping Waste to bury large quantities of food aod such
130

STORMBRINGER.            131

dungs as extra arrows, lances and so forth. If we are forced
back as far as the barrens, we'll likely fare better than
fagreen 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.

"Ay—but some things cannot be faced or considered—for
if we are totally engulfed by Chaos at me 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. •TU 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 EIric 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 flow-
ing 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.

*Tf you spoke truth last night, then you'd best be dressed in
furneral 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
tare down into it "In Ihese tragic times,** he said, "there's
tittle 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.

132 Michael Moorcock

His long white hair hung loose down to hia ihoulders, kept
from his eyes by a bronze circlet in which were set other pre-
cious charm stones of peryx, mio and golden otredos.
Stoimbringer 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, iitandmg al-
mort 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 wen as being Emperors of
the Bright Empire, Eiric's ancestors were Dragon Masters
over all that remained of the dragon kind. Brie, himaelf, was
chief master—though now only his cousin Dyvim SIorm
knew the dragon speech and spells, the rest having perished
in various ways since the Sack of Imrryr years before when
Eiric, 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 bis red eyes
gleaming from its shadows. He refrained from pulling the
side wings about his lower face but for the meantime, left
uiem 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 under-
civilised allies of ours with our elegance. Have no fear mat I
shall live to survive this day's battle—for Pate has not fin-
ished with me yet and protects me as a mother would her
SOB—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 me other Sealords
and captains were already assembled beneath me bright sun.

All were dressed in their finest martial glory, though none
could match Eiric. 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 Melni-
bone ruled the worid and a man accoutred as Eiric com-
manded a mffiion eldritch warriors. Now a bare handful of
Imrryiana greeted him as he rode along me quayside, noting
me 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,

STORMBRINGER            133

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 Stonnbringer's sister-sword Moum-
blade.

As Eiric rode up to the group, Dyvim Slonn turned.hia
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 SIorm said.

"A small mercy." Eiric 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 me ones to watch since we've no idea what powers they
have."

Eiric nodded. Their own fleet comprised some five thou-
sand warships, many equipped with catapults and other heavy
war-engines. The transports, though they turned me 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 (hey
would obviously follow in the rear of Jagreen Lcrn's war-
ned

So, for all Jagreen Lern's numerical strength, there would
be a good chance of winning a sea-fight under ordinary con-
ditions. The disturbing factor was the presence of the super-
natural ships. The spy's description had been vague. Eiric
aeeded more objective information—information he would be
unlikely to receive now, until the fleets joined in battle.

In his shirt was tucked me beast-hide manuscript of an ex'
traordinarily strong invocation used in summoning the Sea
King. He had already attempted to use h, without success,
but hoped that on open sea his chances would be better, par-
ticularly since me Sea King would be angered at the disrup-
tion 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, Eiric recalled, predicted that Eiric would
•ammonium again.

134 Michael Moorcock

Kargan, in the thick: but light sea-armonr of his people
which gave him the appearance of ft hairy-faced armadillo,
pointed as several small boats detached tbemselve* from Ac
fleet and sailed towards die quay.

"Here come the boats to take us to our ships, my lordal"

The gathered captains stirred, all of them with serious ex-
pressions, seeming, each and every one, to be pondering some
personal problem, staring into the depths of their own
hearts—perhaps trying to reach me fear which lay there; try-
ing 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 some-
thing less palatable than death might await them beyond the
horizon.

Eric squeezed Zarozinia's arm.

"Goodbye."

Tareweu, Brio—may whatever benevolent gods Acre are
left on the Earth protect you."

"Save your prayers for my companions,** he said quietly.
"for they wffl be less able than I to face what lies out there."

Moonghnn called to him and Zarozmia: "Give her a kiss,
Eric, and come to the boaL Tell her well be back with vic-
tory tidings'"

Eiric would never have admitted such familiarity, not even
with his kinsman Dyvnn 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 we one
with warnings of ominous portent!"

She said nothing, but kissed him lightly on roe 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 me flag-
ship, Timber-tearer, Eiric 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 me backs of
the warrior-rowers as they bent to the oars, supplementing

STORMB RINGER            135

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 tac-
tics.

Moonglum came stumbling along the swaying deck to
stand beside his friend.

"How did you sleep last night?" he asked Eiric.

**WeU 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."

Eiric nodded slightly, but paying little attention to Moon-
glum. The elements of chaos in their own beings were evi-
dently awakening in response to the approach of the Chaos
horde itself. He hoped they would be strong enough to with-
stand the actuality as they had survived their dreams.

"Disturbance to for'ardF

It was the look-out's cry, baffled and perturbed. Eiric
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"

Eiric turned to Moonglum. "Relay the order through the
fleet—slow the pace to one drum-beat in four, squadron com-
manders stand by to receive final battle orders." He strode
towards the mast and began to climb up it towards the look-
out'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-

'Ts it the enemy, my lord?" he said, as Eiric clambered
into his place. Eiric 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.

136 Michael Moorcock

Smokey, hard to define, it crept gradually nearer, crawling
over the sea towards them.

"It'g the enemy," said Eiric quietly.

He remained for some while m the look-out's cradle, study-
ing 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, Eiric 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 mOes 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 Eiric, 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 Lero. If Jagreen Lem could be slain or captured,
their victory would be more likely.

Now the dark stuff was closer and Eiric could just make
out me sails of the first vessels, spread out one behind the
other. Then, as they came even closer, he was aware mat to
each side of this leading formation were great glinting shapes
that dwarfed even the huge battlecraft of Jagreen Lern.

The Chaos Ships'

Eiric recognised them, now, from his own knowledge of
occult lore.

These were the ships said normally to saQ 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 beginninp of time. been disputed territory—dis-
puted 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 time
Chaos had ruled the sea and Law the land. This. perhaps, ex-
plained the fear of the sea that many human beings had, and
me pull the sea had for others.

But the fact was that, although the elementals had

STORMBRINGER           137

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, Eiric was soon in no doubt that they
were, indeed, those ships.

The Sign of Chaos flashed on their sails, eight amber ar-
rows 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 up-
wards, symbolising direction and control.

Eiric 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 Meloibone had worked, since their incep-
tion, to further the aims of Chaos.

But now Chaos must make war on Chaos; Eiric 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
SIorm came up. Quickly be 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.

Eiric 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 al-
most-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."

138 Michael Moorcock

"If we're defeated, then Chaos will undoubtedly rule."

"Perhaps—but remember that the struggle need not be de-
cided 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 Mouroblade's hilt. "Someone must wield these
blades—these destiny swords—when the time conies for the
deciding duel. Our allies dimmish, Elite."

**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
matched, 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
ni have no time for the summoning of spirits but Will have
to keep tight hold on my own less some Chaos creature re-
leases it**

Eiric 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 swiri-

ing ocean below.

Involuntarily, old words began to form in his throat and
his Ups began to move in the rune which his ancestors had
known when they and all the elementals of the Earth bad
been allies and sworn to aid one another long ago in the
dawn of the Bright Empire, more than ten thousand years be-
fore.

"Waters of the sea, thou gave us birth
And were our milk and mother both
In days when skies were overcast
You who were first shall be the last*

"Sea-rulers, fathers of our blood,
Thine aid is sought, thine aid is sought,

STORMBRINGER           139

Your salt is blood, our blood your sail,
Your blood the blood of Man.

"Straasha, eternal king, eternal sea
Thine aid is sought by me;

For enemies of thine and mine
Seek to defeat our destiny, and drain away our sea."

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 par-
tially in the natural sea and partially in the plane where the
demeatals spent a large part of their immortal existence.

Straasha knew of the Ships of Hell rising to the surface

•nd had been pleased that his domain was now cleared of
them, but Elite's summons awakened his memory and he
remembered the folk of Mehuboo6 upon whom all the ele-
mentals had once looked with a sense of comradeship; he
remembered the ancient invocation, and felt bound to answer
ft, though he knew his people were badly, weakened by the ef-
fect Chaos had had in other parts of the world. Not only hu-
mans had suffered; the elemental spirits of nature had been

•orely 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, Eiric 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 fig-
ure, with turquoise beard and hair, pale green skin that

•eemed 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
ffding thee, aid myself?

" In the throat-torturing speech of the elemental, Eiric an-
twered, 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
Wwch, for my folk are already suffering terribly from the de-

140 Michael Moorcock

preaations of our mutual enemy. We shall attempt to did you
if we can. Thafs all I promise.

The sea king sank back into the waters and Eiric 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 superoaturals. Moonglum had
always been dubious of Eiric's powers to control his wild, ele-
mental friends, while Kargan growled that Straasha may have
been an ally of Eiric'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 confi-
dence.

Four

The fleet of Jagreen Lera bore towards them and* in its wake,
the boiling stuff of Chaos hovered.

Eiric gave the command and die rowers hauled at their
curs, sending Timber-tearer rushing towards the enemy. So
far his elemental allies had not appeared, but he could not af-
ford to wait for them.

As Timber-tearer rode the foaming waves, Eiric hauled bi»
sword from its scabbard, brought the side wings of his helmet
round to cover his face and cried the age-old ululating war-
shout of Melnibone, a shout full of joyous evil. Stormbringer'a
eerie voice joined with his, giving vent to a thrumming song,
anticipating the blood and the souls it would soon feast upon.

Jagreen Lem*s flagship now lay behind three rows of men-
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 turn-
ing 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.

Eiric 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 fireal" Kargan yelled and the group of
men already primed for this leapt for the tubs containing a
special brew,which Eiric bad 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.

"Dont engage unless forced to," Eiric called to the
•eamen, "keep aiming for the flagship. If we take that our ad-
vantage will be goodF

"Where are your allies, Eiric?*' Kargan asked sardonically,
shuddering a little as he saw the Chaoa stuff in the distance
141

142 Michael Moorcock

suddenly move and erupt tendrils of black matter into the
sky.

"They'll come, never fear," Eiric answered, but he was un-
sure.

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
Lem*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'a 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 Eiric.

EIric said: **It's unlikely that they actually do.** As then-
ship manoeuvred into its new position, he stared at die 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?"

Eiric shook his head, perturbed. He had expected aid by
now.

"We cannot wait. We must attackl" Kargan's voice was
pitched higher than usual.

A mood of bitter recklessness came upon Eiric then he
smiled. "Come then. Let's do sol"

Speedily the squadron coursed towards tike disturbing ships
of death.

Moonglum muttered: "We are going to our doom, Eiric.
No man would willingly get close to those ships. Only the
dead are drawn to them, and they do not go with joyF

But Eiric ignored bis friend.

A strange silence seemed to come upon the waters so that

STORMBRINOER

143

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 me Chaos ships that they could
make out better the figures crowding the great decks. Horri-
bly, Eiric thought he recognised some of the gaunt faces of
toe dead and, involuntarily, he called to the sea-folk's king.

"StnashaT'

The waters heaved, foamed and seemed to be attempting
to rise but then subsided again. Straasha beard—but he was
finding it difficult to fight against the forces of Chaos.

"Straashar'

It was no good, the waters hardly moved.

A mood of wild despair came over Eiric. He screamed to
Kargan: "We cannot wait for aid. Swing the ship round the
Chaos fleet and we'll attempt to. reach Jagreen Lero's flagship
from the rearf

Under Kargan^s expert direction, the ship swung to avoid
Hie Ships of Hell in a wide semi-circle. Spray cascaded
against Eiric's face, flooding the decks. He could hardly see
through it as they cleared the Chaos ships which had now en-
gaged other craft and were altering the nature of their tim-
bers 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
oa Jagreen Urn's vessel from the rear.

Eiric, having but recently been a prisoner upon it, recog-
msed it at once. Now they nearly struck the theocrat's vessel
with their ram, but were swept off-course and had to ma-
noeuvre 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 theo-
ent's vessel as the men of Pan Tang strove to cut the grap-

144 Michael Moorcock

pling ropes. More ropes followed and then a boarding
platform fell from its harness and landed squarely on Jagreen
Lena's deck. Another followed it.

EIric ran for (he nearest platform. Kargan behind him, and
they led a body of warriors over it, searching for Jagreen
Lera.

Stormbrmger took a dozen lives and a dozen souls before
EIric had gained the main-deck. There a respleodant com-
mander stood, surrounded by a group of officers. But it was
not Jagreen Lern-

Eiric clambered up die gangway, slicing through a war-
rior's waist as the man sought to block his path. He yelled at
the group: "Where's your cursed leader? Where's Jagreen
LernP*

The commander's face was pale for he had seen in the past
what EIric and his hell-blade could do.

"He's not here, EIric, I swear.**

''What? Am I to be thwarted again? I know you are lyingi"
EIric 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
man the rest.

**Perhaps not," cried EIric with a wDd laugh as he rushed
towards him swinging Stormbrmger in a shrieking arc, **but
at least Til have your life before I put the truth of your
words to die test My sword and I need revitalising—and
your soul should make an appetiser before I take Jagreen
Lern'sl**

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.

"Nol" he groaned. "Oh. not my soull No!** His eyes
widened, tears streamed from them and madness came into
them for a second before Stormbrmger satiated itself and EI-
ric drew it out, replenished. He had no sympathy for the
man. "Your soul would have gone to the depths of hell in
any case," be said lightly. "But now I've put it to some use at
least"

Two other officers scrambled over the rail, seeking to es-
cape their comrade's fate.

CTORMBRINGER           145

EIric hacked at the hand of one so that he fen, screaming,
to the deck, his hand still grasping me rail. The other he
skewered in the bowels and, as Stormbrmger sucked out bis
•oul, he hung there, pleading incoherently, in an effort to
avert the inevitable.

So much vitality flowed into EIric now. that as he rushed
at the remaining group around the commander, be seemed al-
most 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
takemysouL"

"Where is Jagreen Lera?"

The commander pointed into the distance, where the Chaos
,•• fleet could be seen creating havoc amongst the eastern ships.

-a  *ThereI 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," EIric spat "Here's
payment for your information—"
C     Without mercy for one of those who had wasted and ea-
T  slaved two continents, EIric struck his blade through the or-
nate armour and, delicately, with all me old malevolence of
bis 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 backl 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 Lera was victorious. Their plans, their formations.
their courage—none of these had been capable of withstand-
ing the horrible warpings of Chaos.

And now the dreadful fleet was bearing down on me two
flagships, locked together by their grapples. There was no
chance of cutting one of them free before the fleet arrived.

EIric yelled to Dyvhn Slorm and Moonglum whom he saw
naming towards him from the other end of the deck.

"Over we side! Over the side for your lives—and swim as
far as you can away from here, the Chaos fleet comesi"

They looked at him, startled, teen realised me truth of his

- .„ words. Other men of both sides were already leaping into the

146 Michael Moorcock

Moody water. Eiric aheatbed 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, Eiric? 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 Eiric 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 re-
compense 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 seal"

You wiS not need to.

"VerywelL"

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 mere 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 un-
derwater 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 die 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 tex-
ture, 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

STORMBRINGER            147

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

"Eiric. 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."

Eiric nodded. "Nothing can stand against its warping influ-
ence—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 virtu-
ally impregnable."

"Why is that?"

"It lies upon the topmost crag of a tall and lonely moun-
tain. 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 follow-
ers 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," Eiric mused.
"But get it I must, for without it Fate's purpose would be for-
ever 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 con-
tained 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," Eiric said gratefully. "For
when the time comes, I shall need it."

"What do you plan to do, Eiric?" 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, Eiric," Moonglum promised.

"I also," said Dyvim Storm.

148 Michael Moorcock

"We shall require a fourth if we are to carry out the
prophecy," Eiric said. "I wonder what became of Kargan."

Moonglum looked at the {round. "Did you not notice?"

"Notice wfaat?"

"On board Jagreen Lcrn'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
word did?**

Eiric felt suddenly exhausted. "No. Did ^-did it—*»B
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.*'

"Eiric." Moonglum said urgently. "You know that Kar-
gan'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 I The guilt is indirectly mine, for if I was not
so weak I must bear such a blade, many of those who have
befriended me might be alive now.**

"Yet the blade's major purpose seems a noble one,** Moon-
glum said in a baffled voife. "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,** Eiric
smiled bitterly. "If we are the toys of the gods—are not per-
haps the gods themselves mere children?"

"These questions are of no present importance,'* said
Straasha from his throne.

149

STORMBRINGER

-And at least.** Moonglum told Eiric. "future generations
wfll thank Stormbringer if so® fulfills her destiny."

"If Sepiriz is right." Eiric said. "future generations wifl
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 belong-
ing to heroes with other names, that is all.**

"That the worid forgets me is all I ask," Eiric sighed.

As if growing impatient with this fruitless discussion, the
Sea King rose from his throne and said: "Come, 1 will make
certain that you are transported to land, if you have no ob-
jection to travelling back in the same manner as you came
berer*

"None," said Eiric.

Five

They staggered wearily on to the beach of the Isle of the
Purple Towns and Eiric 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 wul mean the passing of us both,
wul it not?

•True."

Then let it be so, for I at least am weary of my long exis-
tence. 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 Bvening.
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." Eiric said hollowly. "Is my wife stffl
here?"

"No. she left soon after the fleet sailed, riding for Kar-
laak."

"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," Eiric said, '•we shall see."
Later, they watched as the battered remnants of the fleet
150

STORMBRINGER           151

began to sail into the harbour. Moonglum counted despair-
ingly. 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.

Eiric was surprised. "Rackhirl You command the Dmioran
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 See. The enemy has established itself
less than a hundred miles from Bakshaan and marches across
country—if march is the word, rather it ftows. Presumably it
expects to meet up with the army the Theocrat intends to
land here."

"Aaahh, we are surely defeated . . .** Moongluffl*s voice
was little more than a sigh.

"We must have that shield, Eiric," Dyvim Slorm said.
Eiric frowned, his heart sinking. "Any further steps we
take against Chaos will be doomed unless we have its protec-
tion. You, Rackhir, will be the fourth man in the prophecy."
"What prophecy?"

"Ill explain later. Are you fit enough to ride back with us
now?"

"Give me two hours to sleep and then I wffl be."
"Good. Two hours. Make your preparations, my friends,
for we go to claim the sad giant's shield I"

It was not until three days* later that they met the first sur-
vivors, many of them with bodies twisted by Chaos, strag-
gling along a white road that lead towards Jadmar, a city still
free.

Of them. they learned that half Dmiora. parts of Vflmir
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 Eiric and bis companions finally
reached Kariaak to find it so far not under attack. But re-
ports placed the armies of Chaos less than two hundred miles
away and marching in that direction.

152

Michael Moorcock

Zarozinia greeted EIric with trou ble-tingcd Joy.
There were rumours you were dead—killed to the sea
battle.** EIric clasped her to him.

"I cannot stay long," be said, "I have a mission beyond the
Sighing Desert."
1 know."
**you know? How?"

"Scpiriz was here. He left a gift m our stables for yon.
Four Nflirain horses."

"A useful gift. They wai carry us far more swiftly than
any other beasts. But wffl that be swift enough? I hesitate to
leave you here with Chaos encroaching at such a rate."

"You must leave me, EIric. If all seems lost here, we shall
flee into the Weeping Waste. Even fagreen Lern can have
scant interest in the barrens."

"Promise me that you wilL**

"I promise."

Feeling a little more relieved. EIric 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 bad—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 EIric rose, kissed her lightly, clasped
her hand and then went to the stables where he found bis
friends waiting—around a fourth figure. It was Sepiriz.

"Sepiriz, wanks for your gift. They will probably make the
difference between our being too late or not," EIric said sin-
cerely. "But why are you here now?"

"Because I can perform another small service before your
main journey begins," said the black seer. "AH of you save
Moonglum have weapons endowed with some special power.
EIric and Dyvim Slonn have their runeblades, Rackhir, the
Arrows of Law, which the sorcerer Lamsar gave him at (he
time of the Siege of Tanelorn—but Moongtum*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—aa
Stormbringer," Sepiriz said. "But I have a charm for your

STORMBRINQER            153

; aword, a slight one that my contact with me White Lords has
^ enabled me to use. Give me your sword, Moonglum."
i1--- A trifle unwillingly, Moonglum unsheathed his curved steel
< Made and banded it to the Nihrain who took a small engrav-
fag tool from his robe and, whispering a rune, scratched
. several symbols on the sword near its hilt Then he gave it
back to the Eastlaoder.

"There. Now the sword has the blessing of Law and you
; wul find it more able to withstand Law's enemies."

EIric said impatiently. "We must ride now, Sepiriz, for
tfane grows desperately short."

;,   **Ride, men. But be wary for patrolling bands of Jagreen
. ^ Lem'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 die magical Nihrain steeds which bad
Jt, helped EIric more man once, and rode away from Karlaak
^ by the Weeping Waste. Rode away perhaps for ever.
<"  In a short while they had entered me Weeping Waste, for
& flus was the quickest route to the Sighing Desert.
f;   Rackhir alone knew this country well. and he guided them.
:^  The Nihrain steeds, treading the ground of their own
|L«trange plane, seemed literally to fly for it could be observed
H.1hat their hooves did not touch the damp grasses of the
|t Weeping Waste. They moved at incredible speed and Rack-
ll-liir, until he became used to the pace, gripped his reins tightly.
:|f1 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 Sighing Desert.
^'  Then at last. after a journey of a day, they could observe
•ly the high crags with their tops lost in cloud and soon, thanks

to me marvellous speed of the Nihrain stallions, they were
; riding through the deep gorges and the rain ceased until, on
'Ihe evening of the second day. the breeze became warm and
finally harsh and hot as they left the mountains and felt the
femoua rays of the sun blazing down on them, knowing they
had come to the edge of the Sighing Desert. This wind
coughed constantly over the barren sand and rocks, its contin-
uous sighing giving the desert its name.

They protected their faces, particularly their eyes, with

154 Michael Moorcock

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 cany 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
sighing wind, and each man became sunk into himself, dwell-
ing 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 emo-
tions, finding it hard, as he often did, to retain any objective
impression of his predicament His past had been too trou-
bled, 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
mings, learn to live with if but, except in moments of ex-
treme personal crisis, had rarely managed to think coherently
for any length of time. He was, perhaps, because of his out-
lawed 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 re-
main 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 me hazard of
uncontrolled thought and emotion? Both held something of
the same qualities.

But his race, though they had ruled me world for ten thou-
sand years, had lived under the dominance of a different star.
They had been neither true men nor true members of the an-
cient races who had come before men. They were an interme-


STORMBRINGER           155

diary type and Eiric was half-oonsciously aware of this;

.. aware that be was the last of an inbred line who had, without
; effort uaed Chios-given sorcery as others used their earthly
dolls—for convenience. His race had been of Chaos, having
no need of •elf-control or the aelf-restrictions of the new
laces who had emerged with the Age of me Young King-
doms, and even these, acrording 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
't.hc was little more than a sacrifice on the altar of destiny?
| He breathed deeply of the hot dry air and expelled it from
lUs stinging lungs, spitting out me clogging sand which bad
laaanaged to enter his mouth and nostrils.

Dyvim SIonn shared something of Eiric's mood, though his
feelings were not so strong. He had a more ordered life man
had Eiric, though they were of the same blood. Whereas Eiric
bad questioned me custom of his folk, even renounced king-
ifaip that he might explore the new lands of me Young King-
doms and compare their way of life with his own, Dyvim
Slorm had never indulged in such questioning. He had suf-
fered bitterness when through Eiric's renegade activities, the
Dreaming City of Imrryr, last stronghold of me old race of
Ikfelnibone, bad been razed; shock, too, of a kind, when he
|md what remained of the Imrryrians had been forced out
lato me world, also, to make their living as mercenaries of
mose they considered upstart kings of lowly and contemptible
peoples. Dyvim Slorm, who had never questioned, did not
question now, though be was disturbed.

. Moonglum was less self-absorbed. Since the time, many
-years before, when he and Eiric bad met and fought against
me Dharzi together, he had felt a peculiar sympathy, even
empathy, with his friend. When Eiric sank into such moods
as we one be was in now, Moonglum felt tormented only be-
cause he could not help him. Many times he had sought me
means of pulling Eiric out of his gloomy depression, but
f these days be had learned that it was impossible. By nature
t cheerful and optimistic, even he felt dominated by me doom
'? which was on them.

156 Michael Moorcock

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 bis days in contemplation and meditation in
the peaceful city of Tanelorn, which exerted a strange calm-
ing 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 Tanelom with a small
party of those who wished to accompany him and offer their
services to Eiric.

Peering through the sand-filled air he saw something loom"
ing ahead—a single mountain rising from the wastes of the
desert, as if placed there by means other than natural.

He called, pointing: "Eirici There) That must be Mordaga's
castleF

Eiric 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 fi-
nal 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 we one another alive again.

Six

The steps wound up around me 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?

Eiric 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 Storm-
bringer, felt it quiver and send energy into him. The climb-
ing instantly became easier.

As he came close to the elder, he heard it rustle, saw that
mere was an agitation in its branches. Yes, it was certainly
sentient.

He was only a few steps from the tree when he heard
Dyvim SIorm shout: "Gods! The leaves'—look at the leavesi"

The green leaves, their veins seeming to throb in the sun-
light, were beginning to detach themselves from me branches
and drift purposefully towards the group.

One settled on Eiric'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 be
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 be 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; be
was weakening slightly already.
157

158 Michael Moorcock

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 re-
maining steps, fighting off the leaves which swarmed like lo-
custs 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
Stonnbringer deep into the tree. Sods of earth spattered up-
wards 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 Stonnbringer. 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 Eiric could weakly grasp the hilt of Stonnbringer
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 invin-
cible!"

"Such power is scarcely palatable," Rackhir said, brushing
dead leaves from his body as Eiric withdrew his sword again
and ran towards the next. The elders grew thicker here and

STORMBRINGER            159

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 Eiric'a
method of despatching the tree-creatures and soon he too be-
came filled with the stolen sous of the demons imprisoned
within the elders and his wfld shout joined Eiric's as, like
fiendish woodsmen, they attacked again and again, each vic-
tory lending mem 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 battle-
songs, 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 Maz-
ing with dreadful fire. his milk-white hair streaming in the
burning wind, Eiric flung up his sword to the sky and turned
to confront his companions.

"Now, friends, see how the ancient ones of Melnibone con-
quered 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 Eiric was no longer split in his loyalties,
there was no conflict in him now. His ancestors' Mood domi-
nated 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 heart-
felt prayer to whatever kindly gods remained in the universe
that Eiric was his ally and not his enemy.

They were close to 'the top now, Eiric and his cousin
springing ahead with superhuman bounds. The steps termi-
nated 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.

Etric peered into the gloom, his head swimming with the

160 Michael Moorcock

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 sol-
diers 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 Eiric and
Dyvim SIorm moved past the first of the fallen and carried
the attack to the rest.

Rackhir groaned. Though they be enemies and the ser-
vants of those we fight, I cannot bear to witness such slaugh-
ter. 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 reas-
sembling as Eiric and Dyvim Slorm advanced menacingly,
with malevolent joy, towards them.

The air rang with the sounds of shouting and steel dash-
ing. Rackhir aimed an arrow at one of the warriors and
launched it to take the man in the left eye. Til see that a
few of them get a cleaner death," be muttered* nocking an-
other arrow to me string.

As Eiric 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 dis-
covered that his sword seemed extraordinarily light and gave
off a sweet, clear tone as it met the warriors* weapons, turn-
ing them aside speedily. The sword supplied him with no en-
ergy, but it did not blunt as h 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 me enemy with his sword
and killed two, taking Moonglum's third opponent from be-
hind with an upward thrust into the man's side and through
to bis heart.

Then they went with little stomach into me main fray and

STORMBRINGER           161

f SKW that already the turf was littered with a great many
'" corpses.

Rackhir cried to Eiric: "Stop! Eiric—let us finish these.
You have no need to take their souls. We can kill them with
".more natural methods!"
^ But Eiric laughed and carried on his work.

As Eiric finished another warrior and there were no others
in the immediate area, Rackhir seized him by the arm.
"Eiric—"

Stormbringer turned in Eiric'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.

"Eiric!" he cried. "Not my soul, too!"
And so died the hero Rackhir the Red Archer, famous in
me Eastlands, cloven by a treacherous blade. By the friend
whose life he had saved, long ago when they bad first met
near the city of Ameeron.

Then came realisation. Eiric 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 tak-
ing it in bis arms. The stolen energy still pulsed in him, but
his great grief no longer gave it the same control over him.
^. Tears streamed down Eiric's tortured face and a great,
t, racking groan came from him.

-^  "Once more." he muttered, "once more. Will it never
k cease?"

s

[•,   Beyond him, his two remaining companions stood on op-
M posite 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 Moon-
' glum stared at Eiric with horrified eyes which yet held a
;, fleam of sympathy for his friend, for he knew well Eiric's
\ doom and knew mat the life of one close to Eiric was the
' price Stormbringer demanded for supplying the albino with
his vitality.

"Rackhir! No gentler hero was there, no man more desir-
ous of peace and order than you!" Eiric 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 bis

162 Michael Moorcock

next action. On the battlements of the topmost turret he
could make out a figure which could only be a giant.

"I •wear by your stolen soul, Rackhir. that what you
wished to come to pass shall come to pass, though I, a thing
of Chaos, achieve iL Law wffl triumph and Chaoa win be
driven back! Anned with awotd and shield of Chaos forging I
shall do battle with every fiend of hell if needs be. Chaos was
the indirect cause of your death. And Chaos will be punished
for it But first, we must take Ac shield."

Dyvim Slorm, not realising quite what had happened,
shouted In exultation to bu Unmnan "Eiric—lefs viait the
sad giant nowF

But Moonglum, coming up to gaze down on me ruined
body of Rackhir. murmured: "Aye, Chaos is me cause, Eiric.
Ill join in your vengeance with a will so long as." he shud-
dered, *Tm spared from me attentions of your hell-blade."

Together, three abreast, tfaey marched through we open
portal of Mordaga's castle and were hnmfdintdy in a rich
and barbaricauy furnished hall.

"Mordaga!" Eiric cried. "We have come to fulfill a
propbccyi 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 taD aft two men, but his back was slightly
stooped. He had long, curling black hair and was dad in *
deep blue smock, belted at the waist Upon his great feet
were simple leather sandals. His black eyes were fun of a sor-
row such as Moonglum had only wen before in Eiric's eyes.

Upon the sad giant's arm was a round shield which bora
upon it me eight amber arrows of Chaos. It was of a silvery
green colour and very beautiful. He had no other weapons.

"I know me prophecy,** he said m 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."

Eiric felt a kind of empathy for sad Mordaga and he knew
something of what me fallen god must feel at mis moment

"The prophecy says death," be said softly.

"Take the shield." Mordaga lifted ft off his mighty arm and
held it towards Eiric. 'Take the shield and change fate this
once."

Eiric nodded. "I will."

STORMBRINGER            163

With a tremendous sigh, the giant deposited me 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 Shan die in peace and, though I once did not
think so, I shaD welcome such a death after all mis time, I
mink."

"You may not die thus. with your shield's protection
gone," Eiric waroed him, "for Chaos comes and will engulf
you as it wQl engulf everything unless I can stop it But at
least, it seems, youll be in a more philosophic frame of mind
to meet it"




"FareweB 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
|h Eiric or Dyvim Slorm could cry out or stop him.
|   Then they beard a single shriek that seemed to echo away

J^into eternity, a crash which shook the hall and then the foot-

^ fall returning.

lit;   Moonglum reappeared in the entrance, a bloody sword in

^ his hand.

|||   Unable to understand this uncharacteristic action, Eiric

1^ was silent merely staring at me Eastlander as he approached

•••_. down the hall-

^'-  "It was murder," said Moonglum simply. "I admit it I

Ij, took him in the back before he was aware of it. It was a

H' 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."

^   "Whyr said Eiric, still mystified.

h   Grimly, Moonglum continued: "He had to perish as fate

^' decreed. We are servants of fate, now, Eiric, and to divert it

,^ in any small way is to hamper its aims. But more than that it

^ was me beginning of my own vengeance taking. If Mordaga

• had not surrounded himself with such a host, Rackhir would
not have died."

Eiric 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

164 Michael Moorcock

since the prophecy contained Mordaga's death, he was the
one. Who else, here, could I kill, Eiric?"

Eiric 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 ChaosI"

€

It was in the mountains separating the Sighing 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, Zarorinia's father.

"What has happened?" Eiric asked anxiously. "Where is
Zarozinia?"

"Our continent has fallen to Chaos, Eiric. As for Zarozinia,
I know not if she's lost, liead or captured.**

"Did you not seek for her?" Eiric said accusingly.

The old man shrugged. "My son. I have looked upon so
much horror these past days mat I am now bereft of emo-
tion. 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 be-
fore the crawling tide of Chaos. It is hopeless."

"Hopelessi No! We still live—perhaps Zarozinia stin 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 Kariaak,
with a vast horde of mounted men and infantry following be-
hind. Confusion prevails—youTI 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."
165

166 Michael Moorcock

"Good. Farewell, Lord Voashoon. If you would do a ser-
vice, ride over the Weeping Waste to Eahmir and the Un-
known Kingdoms where Moonglum's homeland lies. Tell
them what to expect, though they're probably beyond rescue
now."

"I wBl try," said Voashoon wearily, "and hope to arrive
there before Chaos."

Then Eiric 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 Kariaak was no more, that it had been
churned into broiling nothingness and where ft had been the
forces of Chaos, both human and supernatural, had set up
their camp, their work done. The thing also spoke of some-
thing that was of particular interest to Eiric. Rumour was
that the Dragon Isle of Melnibon6 was the only place where
Chaos had been unable to exert its influence.

"If, when our business is doae, we can reach Melnibone,"
Eiric 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 Lem if we could waken
them."

"What use is it to fight mem now?" Dyvim Slorm said de-
featedly. "Jagreen Lem has won, Eiric. 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."

STORMBRINGER            167

t Slorm looked dubious, but he said nothing.
| Oeo, at last, they came to the camp of Chaos.

i,

portal nightmare could encompass such a terrible
^'tbe towering Ships of Hell dominated the place as
aved it from a distance, utterly horrified by the
Kitmg names of all colours seemed to flicker every-
«r the camp, fiends of all kinds mingled with the
evilly beautiful Dukes of Hell conferred with the
kings who had allied themselves to Jagreen Lem
• now regretted it. Every so often, the ground
I erupted and any human beings unfortunate
pte be in the area were either engulfed and totally
IBM) or else had their bodies warped in indescribable
|te noise was dreadful, blending of human voices and
'Chaos sounds, devil's wailing laughter and, quite of-
^tortured scream of a human soul who had perhaps
KN> choice of loyalty and now suffered madness. The
''W disgusting, of corruption, of blood, and of evil.
bIpB of Hell moved slowly about through the horde
^ tferetcbed for miles, dotted with great pavilions of
flheir silk banners fluttering, hollow pride compared to
(fat of Chaos. Many of the human beings could
{te told from the Chaos creatures, their forms were
tad under the influence of Chaos.

Stuttered to his friends as they sat in their saddles
"It is obvious that the warping influence of Chaos
a stronger among the human ranks. This will con-
even Jagreen Lern and the human leaders will lose
lance of humanity and become Just a fraction of
stuff of Chaos. This will mean the end of the
-mankind will pass away forever, taken into the

I^Ook upon the last of mankind, my friends, save for
^ Soon it will be indistinguishable from anything else.
F Unstable Earth is beneath the heel of the Lords of
• soon will be—and they are gradually absorbing it
realm, into their own plane. They will first re-
1 then steal the Earth altogether; it will become just
p of clay for them to mould into whatever gro-
s take their fancy."

seek to stop that," Moonglum said hopelessly.
Eiric!"

168 Michael Moorcock

**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 Lem is there. I have
three good reasons for venturing there."

"No, Bind 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 Biric—!" Mbongium cried and then watched as. his
Chaos Shield pulsing, Eiric spurred his Nihrain steed towards
the camp.

Protected against the Influence of Chaos, Eiric 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 Stonnbrmger had slain roe gods imprisoned
in the elder trees, the vitality which the sword passed into
him was almost without limit, yet every soul that Biric stole
from Jagreen Lern's Warriors was another fraction of ven-
geance 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 warriore dropped back suddenly and
Eiric felt his body tingle with peculiar sensations, knew he
was in the area of influence exerted by me 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 exist-
ed between his worid 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 Eiric
saw with horror that other figures were climbing up them—
and he recognised several as men he had known in Karlaak.

STORMBMNGER           169

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 me great gleaming ship, grateful at least for the
cover they gave him.

He reached the ship's rail and hauled himself over h, spit-
ting 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 me occu-
pants—a manlike figure and something like a huge, blood-red
octopus. The first was probably Jagreen Lern. The second
was obviously Pyaray, for this, Eiric knew, was the guise he
took when he manifested himself on Earth.

Contrasting with me ships seen from the distance, once
aboard Eiric became conscious of the dark, shadowy nature
of me light filled with moving threads, a network of dark
reds, blues, yellows, greens and purples which, as be moved
through te, 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 be had already recognised several of the sear-
raiders whom he had abandoned years before, during the es-
cape from Imrryr.

Slowly he was gaining the top deck, noting that so far,
both Jagreen Lern and Lord Pyarary seemed unaware of his
presence. Presumably they considered themselves entirely free

•from any kind of attack now they had conquered all me.

• known worid. He grinned maliciously to himself as he conrin-

•ned 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 Eiric 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 Lem and, if she were really there, rescue Zaro-
zania and bear her to safety.

Up the dark decks, through the nets of strange colours, Ei-
ric 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-

170 Michael Moorcock

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 sud-
denly, the entire tentacle shrivelling. From above, where the
Chaos Lord*s main bulk was, there came a terrible screaming
and roaring.

"What's this? fVhafs this? Whafs this?"

Eiric shouted in impudent triumph at seeing his shield
work with such effect: " Tis Eiric 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. Eiric 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 be saw Jagreen Lem, his eyes wide. The Theocrat was
clad in his familiar scarlet armour. On his arm was his buck-
ler 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 Eiric's.

"You later, Theocrat," Eiric promised grimly.

"You're a fool, Eiric! You're doomed now* whatever you
do!"

It was probably true, but he did not care.

"Aside, upstart," Eiric said as, his shield up, he moved
warily towards the many-teotacled Lord of Chaos.

"You are the killer of many cousins of mine, Eiric," 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 ami
his soul.

STORMBRINGER             171

J4   Eiric 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 tenta-
cles 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

^ ?«"*•

^;   He got his foot on one tentacle stump and clambered up
^ Che 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
V 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 en-
tity's body. It gave vent to a monstrous shriek sad then Eiric
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 clam-
ber towards Jagreen Lem.

' The Theocrat*s anxious face peered down at him and he
yelted: "You'll find a present for you in yonder cabin, Eiric!"

Tom between pursuing the Theocrat and investigating the
Cabin, Eiric turned and opened die door. From inside came a
dreadful sobbing.

"Zaroriniat" he cried. He ducked into the dark place and
(here 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 Lem do this?"

**He and his ally." The head nodded.

Sickened, Eiric 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

172 Michael Moorcock

you. Eiric. for I am useless to myself and you, nowl Cany my
soul with yours and we shall be forever together."

He tried to withdraw the thirsty runeMade, but it was im-
possible. And. unlike any other sensation he had ever re-
ceived from it, this was almost gentle, warm and pleasant, his
wife's soul flowed into his and be wept as it did so.

"Oh. Zarozinia,** he sobbed. **0h. my loveF

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, flow-
ing apart Jagreen Lena had evidently made good his escape
and Eiric 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 worid no more and a blow bad 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 Zarozima'a
youthful voice whispering comforting words as, still sobbing,
he galloped away from the camp of Chaos.

BOOK FOUR

Doomed Lord's Passing

|-For the mind of Man alone is free to explore the lofty
i' vastness of the cosmic infinite, to transcend ordinary con-
S iciousness, to roam the secret corridors of the brain where
^\ past and future melt into one . . . And universe and individ-
^ ual are tinted, the one mirrored in the other, and each con-

I; tains the other.
i                        —The Chronicle of the Black Sword

One

^  The dreaming city no longer dreamed in splendour. The tat-
:   tend towers of Imrryr were blackened husks, tumbled rags
^ of masonry standing sharp and dark against a sullen sky.
|  Once, EXric's vengeance had brought fire to the city, and the
fire had brought ruin.

Streaks of cloud, like sooty smoke, whispered across the
pulsing mm so that the shouting, red-stained waters beyond
Imrryr were soiled by shadow, and they seemed to become
quieter as if bushed by the black scan that rode across their
ominous turbulence.

Upon a confusion of fallen masonry, a man stood watch-
ing the waves. A tall man* broad-shouldered, slender at
hip, a man with slanting brows, pointed, lobeless ears, high
cheekbones and crimson, moody eyes In a dead white ascetic
face. He was dressed in black, quilted doublet and heavy
cloak, both high-collared, emphasising the pallor of his albino

•kin. The wind, erratic and warm, played with his cloak, fin-
gered it and passed mindlessly on to howl through the broken
towers.

Eiric heard the howling and his memory was filled by tho
sweet, the malicious and melancholy melodies of old Melni-
bone. He remembered, too, the other music his ancestors had
created when they had elegantly tortured their slaves, choos-
ing them for the pitch of their screams and forming them
into die instruments of unholy symphonies. Lost in this
nostalgia for a while, he found something dose to forgetful-
ness and he wished that he had never doubted Ae code of
Melnibone, wished that he had accepted it without question
and thus left his mind unaundered. Bitterly, be smiled.

?     A figure appeared below him and climbed the tumbled

•tones to stand by his side. He was a small, red-haired man
with a wide mouth and eyes that bad once been bright and
amused.

175

176 Michael Moorcock

"You look to the Bast, Eiric." Moonglum murmured. **Yoa
look back towards something irremediable.**

Eiric put his long-fingered hand on his friend*s shoulder.
"Where else is there to look, Moonglum, when me worid lies
beneath the heel of Chaos? What would you have me do?
Look forward to days of hope and laughter, to an old age
lived in peace, with chadren playing around my feet?" He
laughed softly. It was not a laugh that Moonglum liked to
hear.

"Sepiriz spoke of help from the White Lords. It must come
soon. We must wait patiently." Moonglum turned to squint
into the glowering and motionless sun and then, his face set
in an introspective look, cast bis eyes down to the rubble on
which he stood.

Eiric was silent for a moment, watching the waves. Then
be shrugged. **Why complain? It does me no good. I cannot
act on my own volition. Whatever fate is before me cannot
be changed. I pray that the men who follow us win make use
of their ability to control their own destinies. I have no such
ability." He touched his jaw bone with his fingers and then
looked at the hand, noting nails, knuckles, muscles and veins
standing out on the pale skin. He ran this hand through the
silky strands of his white hair, drew a long breath and let it
out in a sigh. "Logic! The worid cries for logic. I have none.
yet here I am, formed as a man with mind, heart and vitals,
yet formed by a chance coming together of certain elements.
The worid needs logic. Yet all the logic in the worid is worm
as much as one lucky guess. Men take pains to weave a web
of careful thoughts—yet others thoughtlessly weave a random
pattern and achieve the same result. So much for the
thoughts of the sage."

"Ah,** Moonglum winked with attempted levity, **thus
speaks the wild adventurer, the cynic. But we are not all wud
and cynical, Eiric. Other men tread other paths—and reach
other conclusions than yours."

"I tread one that*s prc-ordained. Come, lets to the Dragon
Caves and see what Dyvim Slorm has done to rouse our rep-
tilian friends."

They stumbled together down the ruins and walked the
shattered canyons that had once been the lovely streets of
Imrryr. out of the city and along a grassy track mat wound
through the gorse, disturbing a flock of large ravens that fled
into the air, cawing, aD save one, the king, who balanced

STORMBRINGER           177

.       •«
l|

himself on a bush, his cloak of ruffled feathers drawn up in
dignity, bis black eyes regarding them with wary contempt.

Down through sharp rocks to the gaping entrance of the
Dragon Caves, down me steep steps into torch-Ht darkness
with its damp warmth and smell of scaly reptilian bodies.
Into the first cave where the great recumbent forms of the
sleeping dragons lay, their folded leathery wings rising into
the shadows, their green and black scales glowing faintly,
their clawed feet folded and their slender snouts curied back,
even in sleep, to display the long, ivory teeth that seemed like
so many white stalactites. Their dilating red nostrils groaned
in torpid slumber. The smell of their hides and their breath
was unmistakable, rousing in Moonglum some memory inher-
ited from his ancestors, some shadowy impression of a time
when these dragons and their masters swept across a world
they ruled, their inflammable venom dripping from their
fangs and heedlessly setting fire to the countryside across
which they flew. Eiric, used to it, hardly noticed the smell,
but passed on through the first cave and the second until he
found Dyvim Slorm, striding about with a torch in one hand
and a scroll in the other, swearing to himself.

He looked up as be heard their booted feet approach. He
spread out his arms and shouted, his voice echoing through
the caverns, "Nothing! Not a stir, not an eyelid flickering!
There is no way of rousing them. They'll not wake until they
have slept their necessary number of years. Oh, that we had
not used them on the last two occasions, for we have greater
need of them today!"

"Neither you nor I had the knowledge we have now. Re-
gret is useless since it can achieve nothing." Eiric stared
around him at the huge, shadowy forms. Here, slightly apart
from the rest, lay the leader-dragon, one he recognised and
felt affection for: Flamefang, the eldest, who was five thou-
sand years old and still young for a dragon. But Flamefang,
like the rest, slept on.

He went up to the beast and stroked its metal-like scales,
ran his hand down the ivory smoothness of its great front
fangs, felt its warm breath on his body and smiled. Beside
him, on his hip, be heard Stormbrmger murmur. He patted
the blade. "Here's one soul you cannot have. The dragons are
indestructible. They will survive, even though all the world
collapses into nothing.**

Dyvim Slorm said from another part of tile cavern: "I

178 Michael Moorcock

can't think of further action to take for the meantime, Brie.
Let's go back to the tower of D'a'iputna and refresh our-
selves."

Eiric nodded assent and, together, the three men returned
through the caverns and ascended the steps into die sunlight.

"So," Dyvim Slorm remarked, "still no nightfall- The sun
has remained in that position for thirteen days, ever since we
left the Camp of Chaos and made our perilous way to Melni-
bone. How much power must Chaos wield if it can top the
sun in its course?*

"Chaos might not have done this for all we know,** Moon-
glum pointed out Though it's likely, of course, that if did.
Time has stopped. Time waits- But waits for what? More
confusion, further disorder? Or (he influence of me great bal-
ance which will restore order and take vengeance against
those forces who have gone against its will? Or does Time
wait for us—three mortal men adrift,_cut off from what is
happening to all other men, waiting on Time as it waits on
us?-

"Perhaps the sun waits on us," Brie agreed. Tor is ft not
our destiny to prepare the worid for its fresh course? It
makes me feel a Uttle more man a mere pawn if that's the
case. What if we do nothing? Will the sun remain where it is
forever?"

They paused in their progress for a moment and stood
staring up at me pulsating red disc which flooded the streets
with scarlet light, at the black clouds which fled across the
sky before it. Where were the clouds going? Where did they
come from? They seemed instilled with purpose. It was pos-
sible that they were not even clouds at all, but spirits of
Chaos bent on dark errands.

Eiric grunted to himself, aware of the uselessness of such
speculation. He led the way back to the tower of D*a*rputaa
where years before he had sought his love, his cousin
Cymorfl, and later lost her to the ravening thirst of the blade
by his side.

The tower had survived the flames, though the colours that
had once adorned it were blackened by fire. Here he left his
friends and went to his own room to fling himself, fully clad*

upon the soft Melnibonean bed and, almost immediately, fall
asleep.

Two

Eiric slept and Eiric dreamed and, though he was aware of
the unreality of his visions, Ilis attempts to rouse himself to
wakefuloess were entirely futile. Soon he ceased trying and
merely let his dream form itself and draw him into its bright
landscapes...

He saw Imrryr as it fwd been many centuries ago. Imrryr,
the same city he had known before he led the raid on it and
caused its destruction. The same, yet with a different, brighter
appearance as if it were newly-built. As well, the colours of
the surrounding countryside were richer, the sun darker
orange, the sky deep blue and sultry. Since then, he realised,
the very tints of the world had faded with the planet's
ageing...

People and beasts moved in the shining streets; tall,
eldritch Melniboneans, men and women walking with grace.
like proud tigers; hard-faced slaves with hopeless, stoic eyes,
long-legged horses of a type now extinct, small mastodons
drawing gaudy cars. Clearly on the breeze came the mys-
terious scents of the place, the muted sounds of activity—all
hushed, for the Melniboneans hated noise as much as they
loved harmony. Heavy silk banners flapped from the scintil-
lating towers of Milestone, jade, ivory, crystal and polished
red granite. And Eiric moved in his sleep and ached to be
there amongst his own ancestors, the golden folk who had
dominated the old world.

Monstrous galleys passed through the water-maze which
led to Imrryr's inner harbour, bringing the best of the world's
booty, tax gathered from all parts of the Bright Empire, And
across the azure sky lazy dragons flapped their way towards
the caves where thousands of the beasts were stabled, unlike
the present where scarcely a hundred remained. In the tallest
tower—the Tower of B'aU'nezbett, the Tower of Kings—his
ancestors had studied sorcerous lore, conducted their mali-
179

180 Michael Moorcock

cious experiments, indulged their sensuous appetites—not dec-
adently as men of the Young Kingdoms might behave, but
according to their native instincts.

Eiric knew that he looked upon the ghost of a now-dead
city. And he seemed to pass beyond the Tower's gleaming
walls and see his emperor-ancestors indulging in drug-sharp-
ened conversation, lazily sadistic, sporting with demon-
women, torturing, investigating the peculiar metabolism and
psychology of the enslaved races, delving into mystic lore, ab-
sorbing a knowledge which few men of the later period could
experience without falling insane.

But it was clear that his must either be ft dream or vision
of a nether world which the dead of all ages inhabited, for
here were emperors of many different generations. Erie knew
them from their portraits: Black-ringletted Rondar IV,
twelfth emperor; sharp-eyed, imperious Eiric I, eightieth em-
peror; horror burdened Kahan Vn, three-hundred-ftnd-
twenty-ninth emperor. A dozen or more of me mightiest and
wisest of his four-hundred-aad-twcnty-seven ancestors, includ-
ing Terhali, the Green Empress, who had ruled the Bright
Empire from me year 8406 after its foundation until 9011.
Her longevity and green-tinged skin and hair had marked her
out. She bad been a powerful sorceress, even by Memibonean
standards. She was also reputed the daughter of a union be-
tween Emperor luntric X and a demon.

Eiric. who saw all these as if from a darkened corner of
the great main chamber, observed the shimmering door of
black crystal open and a newcomer enter. He started and
again attempted to wake himself, without success. The man
was his father, Sadric the eighty-sixth, a tall man with heavy-
lidded eyes and a misery in him. He passed through the
throng as if it did not exist He walked directly towards Eiric
and stopped two paces from him. He stood looking at him.
the eyes peering upwards from beneath the heavy lids and
prominent brow. He was a gaunt-faced man who had been
disappointed in his albino son. He had a sharp, long nose,
sweeping cheekbones and a slight stoop because of his un-
usual height He fingered the thin. red velvet of his robe with
his delicate, beringed hands. Then he spoke in a clear whis-
per which, Eiric remembered, it bad always been his habit
to employ.

"My son. are you, too dead? I thought I*d been here but a
fleeting moment and yet I see you changed in years and with

STORMBRINGER             181

a burden on you that time and fate have placed there. How
did you die? In reckless combat on some upstart's foreign
blade? Or in this very tower in your ivory bed? And what of
Imrryr now? Does she fare well or ill, dreaming in her de-
cline of past splendour? The line continues, as it must—I will
not ask you if that part of your trust was kept A son, of
course, born of Cymoril whom you loved, for which your
cousin Yyrkoon hated you.**
"Father—-
The old man raised a hand that was almost transparent
with age. "There is another question I must ask of you. One
that has troubled all who spend their immortality in this
shade of a city. Some of us have noticed that the city itself
fades at times and its colours dim, quivering as if about to
vanish. Companions of ours have passed even beyond death
and, perhaps, I shudder to contemplate it. into non-existence.
Even here, in the timeless region of death, unprecedented
changes manifest themselves and, those of us who've dared
ask the question and also give its answer, fear that some tu-
multuous event has taken place in the world of the living.
Some event which, so great is it, that even here we are at*
fected and our souls' extinction threatened. A legend says
that until the Dreaming City dies, we ghosts may inhabit its
earlier glory. Is that the news you bear to us? Is this your
message? For I note on clearer observation that your body
lives still and mis is merely your astral body, released for a
while to wander the realms of the dead."

"Father—** but already the vision was fading; already he
was withdrawing back down the bellowing corridors of the
cosmos, through planes of existence unknown to living men,
away, away...

"Father!" he called, and his own voice echoed, but there
was none there to make reply. And in some sense at least he
was glad, for how could he answer the poor spirit and reveal
to him the truth of his guesses, admit the crimes he himself
was guilty of against his ancestral city, against the very blood
of his forefathers? All was mist and groaning sorrow as his
echoes boomed into his ears, seeming to take on their own in-
dependence and warp the word into weirder words: "F-a-a-
a-ath-e-er-r-r . . . A-a-a-a-a-v-a-a-a . .. A-a-a-a-ah-a-a-a-a ...
R-a-a-a . . . D-a-ra-va-ar-a-a . . . !"

Still, though he strove with all his being, be could not
rouse himself from slumber, but felt his spirit drawn through

182 Michael Moorcock

other regions of smoky indeterminacy, through patterns of
colour beyond bis earthly spectrum, beyond his mind's
conception.

A huge face began to take form in the mist
. "Sepiriz!" Eiric recognised the face of his mentor. But die
black Nihrainian, disembodied, did not appear to hear him.
*'Sepiriz—are you dead?"

The face faded, then reappeared almost at once upon die
rest of the man's tall frame.

"Eiric. I have discovered you at last, robed in your astral
body, I see. Thank Fate, for I thought I bad failed to sum-
mon you. Now we must make haste. A breach has been made
in the defences of Chaos and we go to confer with the Lords
of Law!"

"Where are we?"

"Nowhere as yet We travel to the Higher Worlds. Come*
hurry, ni be your guide."

Down, down, through pits of softest wool mat engulfed
and comforted; through canyons that were cut between blaz-
ing mountains of light which utterly dwarfed them, through
caverns of infinite blackness wherein their bodies shone and
Eiric knew that the dark nothingness went away in all direc-
tions for ever.

And then they seemed to stand upon a horizonkss plateau,
perfectly flat with occasional green and blue geometric con-
structions rising from ft. The iridescent air was alive with
shimmering patterns of energy, weaving intricate shapes that
seemed very formal. And there, too, were things in human
form—things which had assumed such shape for the benefit
of the men who now encountered them.

The White Lords of the Higher Worlds, enemies of Chaos,
were marvellously beautiful, with bodies of such symmetry
that they could not be earthly. On)y Law could create such
perfection and, Eiric thought, such perfection defeated
progress. That the twin forces complemented one another was
now plainer than ever before, and for either to gain complete
ascendancy over the other meant entropy or stagnation for
the cosmos. Even though Law might dominate the earth,
Chaos must be present, and vice versa,

The Lords of Law were accoutred for war. They had made
this apparent in their choice of earth-like garb. Fine metals
and silks—or their like on this plane—gleamed on their per-
fect bodies. Slender weapons were at their sides and their

STORMBRINGER             183

overpoweringly beautiful faces seemed to glow with purpose.
The tallest stepped forward.

"So, Sepiriz, you have brought the one whose destiny it is
to aid us. Greetings. Eiric of Melnibone. Though spawn of
Chaos you be, we have cause to welcome you. Do you
recognise me? The one whom your earthly mythology calls
Donblas the Justice Maker."

Immobile, Eiric said: "I remember you. Lord Donblas.
You are misnamed, I fear, for justice is nowhere present in
the world."

"You speak of your realm as if it were all realms.**
Donblas smiled without rancour, though it appeared that he
was unused to such impudence from a mortal. Eiric remained
insouciant His ancestors had been opposed to Donblas and
all his brethren, and it was still hard to consider the White
Lord an ally. "I see now how you have managed to defy our
opponents," Lord Donblas continued with approval. "And I
grant you that justice cannot be found on earth at this time.
But I am named the Justice Maker and have still the will to
make it when conditions change on your plane."

Eiric did not look directly at Donblas, for the sight of his
beauty was disturbing. "Then let's to work, my lord, and
change the world as soon we may. Let's bring the novelty of
justice to our sobbing realm."

"Haste, mortal, is impossible herel" It was another White
Lord speaking, his pale yellow surcoat rippling over the clear
steel of breastplate and greaves, the single Arrow of Law em-
blazoned on it

"I'd thought the breach to earth made," Eiric frowned. "Td
thought this martial sight a sign that you prepared war
against Chaos!"

"War is prepared—but not possible until the summons
comes from your realm."

"From usi Has not Earth screamed for your aid? Have we
not worked sorceries and incantations to bring you to us?
What further summons do you need?"

"The ordained one," said Lord Donblas firmly.

"The ordained one? Godsl (You'll pardon roe, my lords.)
Is further work required of me, then?"

"One last great task, Eiric," said Sepiriz softly. "As I have
told you. Chaos blocks the attempts of the White Lords to
gain access to our world. The Horn of Fate must be blown
thrice before this business is fully terminated. The first blast

184 Michael Moorcock

will wake the Dragons of Inarryr, the second will allow the
White Lords entrance to the earthly plane, the third—" be
paused.

"Yes, the tnird?" Eiric was impatient

"The third will herald the death of our woridi"

"Where lies this mighty hom?"

"In one of several realms," said Scpinz. "A device of this
kind cannot be made on our plane, therefore it has had to be
constructed on a plane where logic rules over sorcery.'You
must journey there to locate the Horn of Fate.**

"And how can I accomplish such a journey?"

Once again Lord Donblas spoke Icvclly. "We will give you
the means. Equip yourself with sword and shield of Chaos.
for they will be of some use to you, though not so powerful
as in your world. Go you then to the highest point on the
ruined Tower of B'all'nezbett in Imrryr and step off into space.
You will not fall—unless what little power we retain on earth
fails us."

"Comforting words, my Lord Donblas. Very weu. I shall
do as you decree, to satisfy my own curiosity if nauofht else."

Donblas shrugged. "This is only one of many worlds—al-
most as much a shadow as your own—but you may not ap-
prove of it You will notice its sharpness, its clearness of
outline—that will indicate (hat Time has exerted no real in-
fluence upon it that its structure has not been mellowed by
many events. However, let me wish you safe passage, mortal,
for I like you—and I have cause to thank you, too. Though
you be of Chaos, you have within you several of the qualities
we of Law admire. Go now—return to your mortal body and
prepare yourself for the venture ahead of you.**

Eiric bowed again and glanced at Sepiriz. The black
Nihrainian stepped back three paces and disappeared into the
gleaming air. Eiric followed him.

Once again their astral bodies ranged the myriad planes of
the supernatural universe, experiencing sensations unfamiliar
to the physical mind, before, quite without warning, Eiric felt
suddenly heavy and opened his eyes to discover that he was
in his own bed in the tower of D'a'rputna. Through the faint
light filtering between chinks in the heavy curtain thrown
over the window-slit, he saw the round Chaos Shield, its
eight-arrowed symbol pulsing slowly as if in concert with the
sun. and beside it his unholy runeblade Stormbringer, lying

STORMBRINGER           185

against die wall as if already prepared for their journey into
the might-be worid of a possible future.

Then Eiric slept again, more naturally, and was tormented,
also, by more natural nightmares so that at last he screamed
in his sleep and woke himself to find Moonglum standing by
die bed. There was an expression of sad concern upon his
narrow face. "What is it, Eiric? What ails your slumber?"

He shuddered. "Nothing. Leave me, Moonglum. and 111
join you when I rise."

'There must be reason for such shouting. Some prophetic
dream, perhaps?"

"Aye. prophetic sure enough. I thought I saw a vision of
my thin blood split by a hand that was my own. What import
has this dream, what moment? Answer that, my friend, and,
if you can't then leave me to my morbid bed until these
thoughts are gone."

"Come, rouse yourself. Eiric. Find forgctfulnesa in action.
The candle of the fourteenth day burns low and Dyvim
Slorm awaits your good advice."

The albino pulled himself upright and swung his trembling
legs over the bed. He felt enfeebled, bereft of energy. Moon-
glum helped him rise. "Throw off this troubled mood and
help us in our quandary," he said with a hollow levity that
made his fears more plain.

"Aye," Eiric straightened himself. "Hand me my sword. I
need its stolen strength."

Unwillingly. Moonglum went to the wall where stood the
evil weapon, took the runeblade by its scabbard and lifted it
with difficulty, for it was an over-heavy sword. He shuddered
as it seemed to titter faintly at him. and he presented it hilt-
first to his friend. Gratefully, Eiric seized if was about to pull
it from the sheath when he paused. "Best leave the room be-
fore I free the blade."

Moonglum understood at once and left, not anxious to
trust his life to the whim of the hell-sword—or his friend.

When he was gone, Hric unsheathed the great sword and
at once felt a faint tingle as its supernatural vitality began to
stream into his nerves. Yet it was scarcely adequate and he
knew that if the blade did not feed soon upon the life-stuff of
another it would seek the souls of his two remaining friends.
He replaced it thoughtfully in the scabbard, buckled it
around his waist and strode to join Moonglum in the high-
ceilmged corridor.

186 Michael Moorcock

In silence, they proceeded down the twisting marble steps
of the tower, until they reached the centre level where the
main chamber was. Here, Dyvim Slorm was seated, a bottle
of old Melnibonean wine on the table before him, a large sil-
ver bowl in his bands. His sword Mournblade was on the
table beside the bottle. They had found the store of wine in
the secret cellars of the place, missed by the sea-reavers
whom Eiric had led upon bnrryr when he and his cousin had
fought on opposite sides. The bowl was full of the congealed
mixture of herbs, honey and barley which their ancestors had
used to sustain themselves in times of need. Dyvim Slorm
was brooding over it, but looked up when they came close
and sat themselves on chairs opposite him. He smiled
hopelessly.

"I fear, Eiric. that I have done all I can to rouse our sleep-
ing friends. No more is possible—and they still slumber."

Eiric remembered the details of his vision and, half-afraid
that it had been merely a figment of his own imaginings, sup-
plying the fantasy of hope where, in reality, DO hope was,
said: "Forget the dragons, for a while at least Last night I
left my body, so I thought, and journeyed to places beyond
the earth, eventually to the White Lords' plane where they
told me how I might rouse the dragons by blowing upon a
horn. 1 intend to follow their directions and seek that horn."

Dyvim Slorm replaced his bowl upon the table. "We'll
accompany you, of course."

"No need—and anyway impossible—I'll have to go alone.
Wait for me until I return and if I do not—well, you must do
what you decide, spending your remaining years imprisoned
on this isle, or going to battle with Chaos."

"I have the idea that time has stopped in truth and if we
stay here we shall live on forever and shall be forced to face
the resulting boredom," Moonglum put in. "If you don't re-
turn, I for one will ride into the conquered realms to take a
few of our enemies with me to limbo."

"As you will," Eiric said- "But wait for me until all your
patience is ended, for I know not how long III be."

He stood up and they seemed a trifle startled, as if they
had not until then understood the import of his words.

"Fare you well, then, my friend," said Moonglum.

"How well I fare depends on what I meet where I go," Ei-
ric smiled. "But thanks, Moonglum. Fare you well, good
cousin, do not fret Perhaps well wake the dragons yett"

STORMBRINGER            187

"Aye," Dyvim Slorm said with a sudden resurgence of vi-
tality, "We shall, we shall! And their fiery venom will spread
across the filth mat Chaos brings, burning it dean! That day
must come or I'm no prophet at all!**

Infected by this uneJtpected enthusiasm, Eiric felt an in-
crease of confidence, saluted his friends, smiled, and walked
upright from the chamber, ascending the marble stairs to take
the Chaos Shield from its place and go down to the gateway
of the tower and pass through it, walking the jagged streets
towards die magic-sundered ruin that had once been the
scene of his dreadful vengeance and unwitting murder—the
Tower of B'all'nezbett.

Three

Now, as Eiric stood before the broken entrance of the tower.
his mind was beset with bursting thoughts which fled about
his skull, made overtures to his convictions and threatened to
send him hopelessly back to rejoin his companions. But he
fought them, forced them down, forgot them, clung to his
remembrance of the White Lord's assurance and passed into
the shadowed shell which still had the smell of burnt wood
and fabric about its blackened interior.

This tower, which had formed a funeral pyre for the mur-
dered corpse of his first love Cymoril and his warped cousin.
her brother Yyrkoon. had been gutted of innards. Only the
stone stairway remained and that, he noted, peering into the
gloom through which rays of sunlight slanted, bad collapsed
before it reached the roof. '

He dare not think, for thought might rob him of action.
Instead, he placed a foot upon the first stair and began to
climb. As be did so, a faint sound entered his ears, or it may
have been that it came from within bis mind. However it
reached his consciousness, it sounded like a far-away orches-
tra tuning itself. As he climbed higher* the sound mounted,
rhythmic yet discordant, until, by the time he reached the fi-
nal step still left intact, it thundered through his skull, pound-
ed through his body producing a sensation of dull pain.

He paused and stared downward to the tower's floor far
below. Fears beset him. He wondered whether Lord Donblas
had intended him to climb to the highest point he could eas-
ily reach, or the actual point which was still some twenty feet
above him. He decided it was best to take the White Lord
literally and swinging the great Chaos Shield upon his back,
reached above him and got bis fingers into a crack in the
wall, which now sloped gently inwards. He heaved himself
up, his legs dangling and his feet seeking a bold. He had al-
ways been troubled by heights and disliked the sensation that
188

STORMBRINGER           189

came to him as be glanced down to the nibble-laden floor,
eighty feet below, but he continued to climb and the climbing
was made easier by me fissures in the tower's wall. Though
he expected to fall, he did not, and at last reached me unsafe
roof, easing himself through a bole and on to the sloping ex-
terior. Bit by bit he climbed until he was on the highest part
of the tower. Then, fearing hesitation •till, he stepped out-
wards, over the festering streets of Imrryr far below.

The discordant music topped. A roaring note replaced ft.
Swirling waves of red and black rushed towards him and men
he had burst through them to find he was standing on firm
turf beneath a small, pale sun, me smell of grass in his nos-
trils. He noted mat, whereas me ancient world seen in his
dream had seemed more colourful than his own, mis world,
in turn, contained even less colour, though it seemed to be
cleaner in its outlines, in sharper focus. And the breeze mat
blew against his face was.colder. He began to walk over me
grass towards a thick forest of low, solid foliage which lay
ahead. He reached me perimeter of me forest but did not en-
ter, circumnavigating it until he came to a stream mat went
off into the distance, away from the forest

He noticed with curiosity mat me bright clear water ap-
peared not to move. It was frozen, though not by any natural
process that he recognised. It bad all the attributes of a sum-
mer stream—yet it did not flow. Feeling mat this phenome-
non contrasted strangely with me rest of the scenery, he
swung me round Chaos Shield on to his arm, drew his throb-
bing sword and began to follow the stream.

The grass gave way to gorse and rocks with me occasional
dump of waving ferns of a variety he didn't recognise.
Ahead, he thought he heard the tinkle of water, but here the
stream was still frozen. As he passed a rock taller man the
rest, he heard a voice above him.

"Eiric!"

He looked up.

There, on the rock, stood a young dwarf with a long,
brown beard that reached below his waist He clutched a
spear, his only weapon, and he was dad m russet breeks and
jerkin with a green cap on his head and no shoes on his
broad, naked feel He bad eyes like quartz that were at once
hard, harsh and humorous.

"That's my name," Eiric said quizzically. "Yet how is it
you know me?**

Michael Moorcock

190

"I am not of this world myself—at least, not exactly. I
have no existence in time as you know it, but move here and
there in the shadow worlds that the gods make. It is my
nature to do so. In return for allowing me to exist, the gods
sometimes use me as a messenger. My name is Jermays the
Crooked, as unfinished as these worlds themselves." He clam-
bered down the rode and stood looking up at Eiric.

"What's your purpose here?" asked the albino.

"Methought you sought the Horn of Fate?"

"True. Know you where it lies?"

"Aye," smiled the young dwarf sardonically. "Ifs buried
with the still-living corpse of a hero of this realm—a warrior
they call Roland. Possibly yet another incarnation of the
champion Eternal.**

"An outlandish name."

*'No more than yours to other ears. Roland, save that his
life was not so doom beset, is your counterpart in his own
realm. He met his death in a valley not far from here,
trapped and betrayed by a fellow warrior. The horn was with
him then and he blew it once before he died. Some say that
the echoes still resound through the valley, and will resound
forever, though Roland perished many years ago. The horn's
full purpose is unknown here—and was unknown even to Ro-
land. It is called Olifant and, with his magic sword Duran-
dana, was buried with him in the monstrous grave mound that

you see yonder."

The dwarf pointed into the distance and Biric saw mat be
indicated something be had earlier taken to be a large hillock.

"And what must I do to gain this hom?" he asked.

The dwarf grinned with a hint of malice in his voice, ^ou
must match that bodkin there 'gainst Roland's Durandana.
His was consecrated by the Forces of Light whereas yours
was forged by the Forces of Darkness. It should be an inter-
esting conflict"

"You say he's dead—then how can he fight me?**

"He wears the horn by a thong about his neck. If you at-
tempt to remove it. he will defend his ownership, waking
from the deathless sleep that seems to be the lot of most
heroes in this world."

Eiric smiled. "It seems to me they must be short of heroes
if they have to preserve them in that manner.**

"Perhaps," the dwarf answered carelessly, "for there are a
dozen or more who lie sleeping somewhere in this land alone.

CTORMB RINGER           191

They are nipposcd to awaken only when a desperate need
arises, yet I've known unpleasant things to happen and still
they have alept It could be they await the end of their world,
which die gods may destroy if It proves unsuitable, in which
case they will fight to prevent such a happening. It is merely
a poorly conceived theory of my own and of little weight
Perhaps the legends arise from some dim knowledge of the
fate of the Champion EEteroaL

The dwarf bobbed a cynical bow and, hefting his spear,
sahited Eiric. "Farewell, Eiric of Melnibone. When you wish
to return I will be here to lead you—and return you must,
whether alive or dead, for, as you are probably aware, your
very presence, your physical appearance itself, contradicts
this environment. Only one thing fits here..."

"What's Aatr

"Your sword.'*

"My •wordi Strange, I should haw thought that would be
the last thing.'* He shook a growing idea out of his mind. He
did not have time to speculate. "I've no liking to be here," he
commented as the dwarf clambered over the rocks. He
glanced in the direction of toe great burial mound and began
to advance towards ft. Beside him he saw that the stream was
moving naturally and he had the impression that though Law
influenced this world, it was to some extent still forced to
deal with the disrupting influence of Chaos.

The grave barrow, be could now see, was fenced about
with giant slabs of unadorned stone. Beyond the stones were
olive trees that had dull jewels hanging from tncir branches,
and beyond them, through tee leafy apertures, Eiric saw a
tall, curved entrance blocked by gates of brass embossed with
gold.

Though strong, Stormbringer," he said to his sword, "I
wonder if youll be strong enough to war in this world as well
as giving my body vitality. Let's test you."

He advanced to the gate and drawing back his arm de-
livered a mighty blow upon it with the runesword. The metal
rang and a dent appeared. Again he struck, this time holding
the sword with both hands, but then a voice cried from his
right

"What demon would disturb dead Roland's rest?"

"Who speaks the language of Melnibone?" Eiric retorted
boldly.

"I speak the language of demons, for I perceive that is

192 Michael Moorcock

what you are. I know of oo Mulnebooney and am wen-versed
in the ancient mysteries."

"A proud boast for a woman." said Eiric. who had not yet
seen the speaker. She emerged, then, from around the bar-
row, and stood staring at him from out of her glowing green
eyes: She had a long, beautiful face and was almost as pale as
himself, though her hair was jet black. "What's your name?"
he asked. "And are you a native of this world?"

"I am named Vivian, an enchantress, but earthly enough.
Your Master knows the name of Vivian who once loved Ro-
land, though he was too upright to indulge her, for she is
immortal and a witch," She laughed good-humouredly.
"Therefore I am familiar with demons of your like and do
not fear you. Aroint thee! Aroint thee—or shall I call Bishop
Turpin to exorcise thee?"

"Some of your words," said EIric courteously, "are unfa-
miliar and the speech of my folk much garbled. Are you
some guardian of this hero's tomb?"

"Self-made guardian, aye. Now gol" She pointed towards
the stone slabs.

"That is not possible. The corpse within has something of
value to roe. The Horn of Fate we call it, but you know it by
another name."

"Olifanti But that's a blessed instrument No demon would
dare touch it Even I..."

"I am no demon- Fm sufficiently human, I swear. Now
stand aside. This cursed door resists my efforts too well."

"Aye," she said thoughtfully. "You could be a man—
though an unlikely one. But the white face and hair, the red
eyes. the tongue you speak...."

"Sorcerer I be, but no demon. Please—stand aside." .

She looked carefully into his face and her look dis-
turbed him. He took her by her shoulder. She felt real enough,
yet somehow she had little real presence. It was as if she
were far away rather than close to him. They stared at one
another, both curious, both troubled. He whispered: "What
knowledge could you have of my language? Is this world a
dream of mine or of the gods? It seems scarcely tangible.
Why?"

She 'heard him. "Say you so of us? What of your ghostly
self? You seem an apparition from the dead past!"

"From the past! Aha—and you are of the future, as yet
unformed. Perhaps that brings us to a conclusion?"

STORMBRINGER            193

She did not pursue the topic but said suddenly: "Stranger,
you will never break this door down. If you can touch Oli-
fant, that speaks of you as mortal, despite your appearance.
You must need the horn for an important task."

Eiric smiled. "Aye—for if I do not take it back from
whence it came, you will never exist!"

She frowned. "Hints! Hints! I feel close to a discovery yet
cannot grasp why, and that's unusual for Vivian. Here—" she
took a big key from her gown aod offered it to him—"this is
the key to open Roland's tomb. It is the only one. I had to
kill to get it, but oftimes I venture into the gloom of his
grave to stare down at bis face and pine that I might revive
him and keep him living forever on my island home. Take
the born! Rouse him—and when he has slain you, he will
come to me and my warmth, my offer of everlasting life,
rafter than lie in that cold place again. Go—be slain by Ro-
land!"

He took the key.

"Thanks, Lady Vivian. If it were possible to convince one
who in truth did not yet exist, I wouldlell you that Roland's
daying of me would be worse for you than if I am success-
ful."

He put the large key in the lock and it turned easily. The
doors swung open and he saw that a long, low-roofed cor-
ridor twisted before him. Unhesitatingly, he advanced down it
towards a flickering light that he could see through the cold
! and misty gloom. Yet, as he walked, it was as if he glided in
a dream less real than that he bad experienced the previous
night Now he entered the funeral chamber, illuminated by
tall candles surrounding the bier of a man who lay upon it
dressed in armour of a crude and unfamiliar design, a huge
broadsword, almost as large as Stonnbringer gripped to his
chest and, upon the, hilt, attached to his neck by a silver
chain—the Horn of Fate, Olifant!

The man's face, seen in the candlelight, was strange; old
and yet with a youthful appearance, the brow smooth and the
features unlined.

Eiric took Stonnbringer in his left hand and reached out
to grasp me horn. He made no attempt at caution, but
wrenched it off Roland's neck.

A great roar came from the hero's throat Immediately he
had raised himself to a sitting position, the sword shifting into
his two hands, his legs swinging off the bier. His eyes widened

194 Michael Moorcock

as he saw Eiric with the horn in bis bands, and he, Jumped at
the albino, the sword Duraodana whistling downwards
towards Eiric's head. He raised the shield and blocked the
blow, slipped the horn into his jerkin and, backing away, re-
turned Stormbringer to his right hand. Roland was now
shouting something in a language completely unfamiliar to
Eiric. He did not bother trying to understand, since tee angry
tones were sufficient to teD him the knight was not suggesting
a peaceful negotiation. He continued defending himself with'
out once carrying the offensive to Roland, backing inch by
inch down the long tunnel towards the barrow's mouth. Ev-
ery time Duraodana struck the Chaos Shield, both sword and
shield gave out wild notes of great intensity. Implacably the
hero continued to press Eiric backwards, his broadsword
whirling and striking the shield, sometimes me blade, with
fantastic etreogth. Then they had broken into daylight and
Roland seemed momentarily blinded. Eirie glimpsed Vivian
watching them eageriy for it appeared Roland was winning.

However, m daylight and with no chance of avoiding the
angered knight, Eiric retaliated with all me energy he had
been saving until mis moment. Shield high, sword swinging,
he now took the attack, surprising Roland who was evidently
unused to this behavior on the part of an opponent.
Stormbfinger mailed as it bit into Roland's poorly-forged ar-
mour of iron, riveted with big unsightly nails, painted on the
front with a dull red cross mat was a scarcely adequate insig-
nia for so famous a hero. But there was no mistaking Duran-
dana's powers for, though seemingly as crudely forged as the
armour, it did not lose its edge and threatened to bite through
the Chaos Shield with every stroke. Eiric's left arm was numb
from me blows and his right arm ached. Lord Donblas bad
not lied to him when he had said that the strength of his
weapons would be diminished on this world.

Roland paused, shouting something, but Eiric did not heed
him, seized his opportunity and rushed in to crush his shield
against Roland's body. The knight reeled and staggered, his
•word giving off a keening note. Eiric struck at a gap be-
tween Roland's helmet and gorget The head sprang off the
shoulders and rolled grotesquely away, but no blood pumped
from the jugular. The eyes of the head remained open, star-
ing at Eiric.

Vivian screamed and shouted something in the same lan-


STORMBRINGER           195

guage which Roland had used. Eiric stepped back; his face
grim.

"Oh, his legend, his legend F she cried. "The only hope the
people have is that Roland will some day ride once more to
their aid. Now you have slain him* Fiend!"

"Possessed I may be." he said quietly as she sobbed by the
headless corpse, "but I was ordained by the gods to do this
work. ni take my leave of your drab world, now."
"Have you no sorrow for the crime you've done?"
"None. madam, for this is only one of many such acts
which, Fm told, serve some greater purpose. That I some-
times doubt the truth of this consolation need not concern
you. Know you mis, though, I have been told that it is the
fate of such as your Roland and myself never to die—always
to be reborn. Farewell."

And he walked away from mere; passed through the olive
grove and the tall stones, the Horn of Fate cold against his
heart.

He followed the river towards the high rock where he saw
a small figure poised and, when be reached it, looked up at
[me young dwarf Jennays the Crooked, took the horn from
;,his jerkin and displayed h.

•• Jennays chuckled. "So Roland is dead, and you, Eiric,
have left a fragment of a legend in this world, if it survives.
Well, shall I escort you back to your own place?"*
| "Aye, and hurry."

:• Jermays skipped down me rocks and stood beside the tall
: albino. "Hmm," he mused, "that horn could prove trou-
| Mesome to us. Best replace it in your jerkin and keep it cov-
^cred by your shield."

Eiric obeyed the dwarf and followed him down to the
banks of the strangely frozen river. It looked as if it should
have been moving, but it evidently was not Jennays leapt
into it and, incredibly, began to sink. "Quickly! Follow!"

Eiric stepped in after him and for a moment stood on me
frozen water before he, also, began to sink.

Though the stream was shallow, they continued to sink un-
til all similarity to water was gone and they were passing
down into rich darkness that became warm and heavy-
scented. Jennays pulled at his sleeve. "This way!" And they
shot off at right angles, darting from side to side, up and
down, through a maze that apparently only Jermays could
ace. Against his chest, the hom seemed to heave and he

196 Michael Moorcock

pressed his shield to it Then he blinked u he found himself
in the light again, staring at the great red sun throbbing in
the dark blue sky. His feet were on something •olid. He
looked and uw that it was the Tower of B'all'nezbctL For a
while longer the horn heaved as if alive, like a trapped bird,
but, after some moments, it became quiescent'

Eiric lowered himself to the roof and began to edge down
it until he came to the gap through which he had passed ear-
lier.

Then suddenly he looked up as he heard a noise in the sky.
There, his feet planted on air, stood grinning Jermays the
Crooked. 'TU be passing on, for I like not this worid at all.'*
He chuckled. "It has been a pleasure to have had a part in
this. Goodbye, Sir Champion. Remember me, the unfinished
one. to the Lords of the Higher World*—and perhaps you
could hint to them that the sooner they improve their
memories or else their creative powers, the sooner I shall be
happy."

Eiric said: "Peihaps you'd best be content with your lot.
Jermays. There are disadvantages to stability, too."

Jermays shrugged and vanished.

Slowly, all but spent, Eiric descended the fractured wafl
and, with great relief, reached the first stair to stumble down
the rest and run back to the tower of D'ar'putna with the
news of his success.

Four

The three thoughtful men left the city and went down to the
Dragon Caves. On a new silver chain, the Horn of Fate was
slung around Eiric'a neck. He was dressed in black leather.
with his head unprotected save for a golden circlet mat kept
his hair from his eyes. Stonnbringer scabbarded at his side,
the Chaos Shield on his back. he led his companions into the
grottoes, to come eventually to the slumbering bulk of Flame-
fang the Dragon Leader. His lungs seemed to have insuffi-
cient capacity as.he drew air into them and grasped me horn.
Then he glanced at his friends, who regarded him expec-
tantly, straddled his legs slightly and blew with all his
strength into the hom.

The note sounded, deep and sonorous, and as it reverber-
ated through the caverns, he felt all his vitality draining from
him. Weaker and weaker he became until he sank to hia
knees, the hom still at his lips, the note failing, his vision
dimming, his limbs shaking, and then he sprawled face down
on the rock, the hom clattering beside him.

Moonglum dashed towards him and gasped as he saw the
bulk of the leading dragon stir and one huge, unblinking eye,
as cold as the northern wastes, stare at him.

Dyvim Storm yelled jubilantly: "Flamefangi Brother Flam®.
fang. you wake!"

All about him he saw the other dragons stirring also, shak-
ing their wings and straightening their slender necks, ruffling
their homy crests. Moonglum felt smaller than usual as the
dragons wakened. He began to feel nervous of me huge
beasts, wondering how they would respond to the presence of
one who was not a Dragon Master. Then he remembered the
enervated albino and knelt beside Eiric, touching his
leathern-covered shoulder.

"Eiric! D'you live?"

Eiric groaned and tried to turn over onto his back. Moon-

197

198 Michael Moorcock

glum helped him sit upright *Tm weak, Moonglum—ao weak
I can't rise. 'Die born took all my energy!**

"Draw your sword—it will supply what you need.**

Eiric shook his head. "I'll take your advice, though I doubt
whether you're right this time. That hero I slew must have
been soulless, or else his soul was well-protected, for I gained
nothing from him.**

His hand fumbled towards his hip and grasped
Stormbringer's hilt. With a tremendous effort, he drew it
from the scabbard and felt a faint flowing leave it and enter
aim, but not enough to allow him any great exertion. He got
up and staggered towards Flamefang. The monster recognised
him and nutted its wings by way of welcome, its hard,
solemn eyes seeming to warm slightly. As he moved round to
pat its neck, he staggered and fell to one knee, rising with ef-
fort.

In earlier times there had been slaves to saddle me dragons
but now they would have to saddle their beasts themselves.
They went to the saddle-store and chose the saddles they
Deeded, for each saddle was designed for an individual beast
BIric could scarcely bear the weight of Flamefang*s elabo-
rately carved saddle of wood, steel, jewels and precious
metals. He was forced to drag it across die cavern floor. Not
wishing to embarrass him with their glances, the other two ig-
nored bis impotent struggling and busied themselves with
their own saddles. The dragons must have understood that
Moonglum was a friend, for they did not demur when he
cautiously approached to dress his dragon with its high
wooden saddle with silver stirrups and sheathed, lance-like
goad from which was draped the pennant of a noble family
of Melnibone, now all dead.

When they had finished saddling their own beasts, they
went to help Eiric who was half-falling with weariness, his
back leaning against Flamefang's scaly body. While they tied
the girths, Dyvim Slorm said: "Will you have strength
enough to lead us?"

Eiric sighed. "Aye—enough, I think, for that But I know
111 have none for the ensuing battle. There must be some
means of gaining vitality."

"What of the herbs you once used?**

"Those I had have lost their properties, and there are no
fresh ones to be found now that Chaos has warped plant,
rock and ocean with its dreadful stamp."

STORMBRINGER             199

Leaving Moonglum to finish Flamefang's saddling, Dyvim
Slorm went away to return with a cup of liquid which he
hoped would help revivify Eiric. Eiric drank it, gave the cup
back to Dyvim Slorm and reached up to grasp the saddle-
pommel, hauling himself into the high saddle. "Bring straps,"
he ordered.

"Straps?" Dyvim Slorm frowned.

"Aye. If I'm not secured in my saddle, Fll likely fan to the
ground before we've flown a mile.**

So be sat in the tall saddle and gripped the goad which
bore his blue, green and silver pennant, gripped it in hs
gauntleted hand and waited until they came with the straps
and bound him firmly into place. He gave a slight smile and
shook the dragon's halter. "Forward, Flamefang, lead the way
for your brothers and sisters."

With folded wings and lowered head, the dragon began to
walk its slithering way to the exit Behind it, on two dragons
almost as large, sat Dyvim Slorm and Moonghun, their faces
grimly concerned, watchful for Eiric'g safety. As Flamefang
moved with rolling gait through the series of caverns, its fel-
low beasts fell in behind it until all of them had reached the
great mouth of the last cave which overlooked the threshing
sea. The sun was still in its position overhead, scarlet and
swollen, seeming to swell in rhythm with the movement of
the sea. Voicing a shout that was half-hiss, half-yell. Eiric
•lapped at Flamefang's neck with his goad.

"Up, Flamefaogt Up for Melnibone and vengeanceF

As if sensing the strangeness of the world, Flamefang
paused on me brink of the ledge, shaking his head and snort-
ing to himself. Then, as he launched into the air, his wings
began to beat, their fantastic spread flapping with slow grace,
but bearing the beast along with marvellous speed.

Up, up, beneath die swollen sun, up into me hot, turbulent
air, up towards the East where Ac camps of hell were wait-
ing. And in Flamefang's wake came its two brother-dragons,
bearing Moonglum and Dyvim Slorm who had a horn of his
own, the one used to direct the dragons. Ninety-five other
dragons, males and females, darkened the deep blue sky, all
green, red and gold, scales clashing and flashing, wings
beating and, in concert, sounding like the throbbing of a mil-
lion drums as they flew over the unclean waters with gaping
jaws and cold, cold eyes.

Though beneath him now Eiric saw with blurring eyes

200 Michael Moorcock

many colours of immense richness, they were aH darfc and
changing constantly, shifting from one extreme of a dark,
spectrum to the other. It was not water down mere BOW—it
was a fluid comprised of materials born natural and supernat-
ural, real and abstract Pain* longing. misery and laughter
could be seen as tangible fragments of me tossing tide, pas-
sions and frustrations lay in it also. as wcD as stuff made of
living flesh mat bubbled on occasions to the surface.

In his weakened condition, me sight of me fluid sickened
Eiric and he turned his red eyes upwards and towards the
East as the dragons moved swiftly on their course.

Soon they were flying across what bad once been the main-
land of me Eastern Continent, me major Vilmirian peninsula.
But now it was bereft of its earlier qualities and huge
columns of dark mist rose into the air so that they wen
forced to guide their reptilian steeds among them. Lava
streamed, bubbling, on the far-away ground, disgusting
shapes flitted over land and air, monstrous beasts and me oc-
casional group of weird riders on skeletal horses who looked
up when they heard the beat of the dragon wings and rode in
frantic fear towards their camps.

The worid seemed a dead corpse, given life In corruption
by virtue of the vermin which fed upon it

Of mankind nothing was left, save for the three mounted
on the dragons.

Eiric knew that Jagreen Lera and his human allies had
long-since forsaken their humanity and could no longer claim
kinship with the species their hordes had swept from the
worid. The leaders alone might retain their human shape, the
Dark Lords don it, but their souls were warped just as the
bodies of their followers had become warped into hell-shapes
due to the transmuting influence of Chao*. AH the dark pow-
ers of Chaos lay upon the world, yet deeper and deeper into
its heart went the dragon flight, with Eiric swaying in his
saddle and only stopped from falling by the straps that bound
his body. From the lands below there seemed to rise an
aching shriek as tortured nature was defied and its com-
ponents forced into alien forms.

Onward they sped, towards what had once been Kariaak
by the Weeping Waste and which was now the Camp of
Chaos. Then, from above, they heard a cawing yell and saw
black shapes dropping down on them. Eiric had not even
strength to cry out, but weakly tapped Flamefang's neck and

STORMBRINGER           201

,     ?.
:     i

made the beast veer away from the danger. Moonglum and
Dyvim Slorm followed his example and Dyvim Slorm sound-
ed his born, ordering the dragons not to engage the attackers,
but some of the dragons in me rear were too late and were
forced to turn aod battle with the black phantoms.

Ehic looked behind him and, for a few seconds, saw them
outlined against the sky, rending things with the jaws of
whales, locked in combat with me dragons that shot their
flaming venom at them and tore at mem with teeth and
claws, wings flapping as they strove to hold their height, but
then another wave of dark green mist spread across his field
of vision and he did not see the fate that befell the dozen
dragons.

Now Eiric signalled Plamefang to fly low over a small
army of riders fleeing through the tormented land, the eight-
arrowed standard of Chaos flapping from the leader's encrust-
ed lance. Down they went and loosed weir venom, having the
satisfaction of seeing the beasts and riders scream, bum and
perish, their ashes absorbed into the shifting ground.

Here and there, now, they saw a gigantic castle, newly-
raised by sorcerer, perhaps as a reward to some traitor king
who had aided Jagreen Lem, perhaps as the keeps of the
Captains of Chaos who, now that Chaos ruled, were establish-
ing themselves on earth. They swept down on them, released
their venom and left them burning with unnatural fires, the
gouting smoke blending with me shredding mist And at last
Eiric saw the Camp of Chaos—a city but recently made in
the same manner as the castles, the flaring sign of Chaos
hanging amber in the sky overhead. Yet he felt no elation,
only despair that he was so weak be would not have the
strength to meet his enemy Jagreen Lem in combat What
could he do? How could strength be found—for, even if he
took no part in the fighting, he must have sufficient vitality to
blow the horn a second time and summon the White Lords to
earth.

The city seemed peculiarly silent as if it waited or prepared
for something. It had an ominous atmosphere and Eiric, be-
fore Flamefang crossed the perimeter, made his dragon steed
turn and circle.

Dyvim Slorm. and Moonglum and the rest of the dragon
flight followed his example and Dyvim Slorm called across
the air to him. "What now, Eiric? I had not expected a city
to be here so soon!"

202 Michael Moorcock

"Neither had L But look.—** he pointed with a trembling
band he could hardly lift. •there's Jagreen Lern's Merman
standard. And there—" now he pointed to the left and right,
"the standards of a score of the Dukes of Hell! Yet I see no
other human standards." Moonglum shouted:

"Those castles we destroyed. I suspect that Jagreen Lern
had already divided up these sundered lands and given them
to his, hirelings. How can we tell how much time has really
passed—time in which an this could have been brought
about?"

•T^uc," Brie nodded, looking up at the still sun. He
lurched forward in his saddle, half-swooning, pulled himself
upright, breathing heavily. The Chaos Shield seemed like a
huge weight on his arm, but be held it warily before him.

Then be acted on impulse and goaded Flamefang into
speed so that me dragon rushed towards me city, diving down
towards me castle of Jagreen Lem.

Nothing sought to stop him and he landed me beast among
me turrets of the castle. Silence was dominant He looked
around, puzzled, but could see nothing save the towering
buildings of dark stone that seemed to ooze beneath Flame-
fang's feet

The straps stopped him from dismounting, but he saw
enough to be sure the city was deserted. Where was me horde
of heD? Where was Jagreen Lern?

Dyvim Storm and Moonglum came to Join him, while the
rest of the dragons circled above. Qaws scratched on rock,
wings slashed the air and they settled, turning their mighty
heads this way and that, ruffling their scales restlessly for,
once aroused from their dumber, me dragons preferred the
airtotbeland.

Dyvim Slorm stayed but long enough to mutter: "ni scout
the city," and then was flying away again, low amongst the
castles until they heard him cry out and saw him swoop out
of sight There came a yeu, but they could not see what
caused it, a pause, and then Dyvim Slorm's dragon was flap-
ping up again and they saw he had a writhing prisoner slung
over the front of his saddle. He landed. The thing he had
captured bore resemblance to a human being, but was mis-
shapen and ugly vim a jutting underiip, low forehead and no
chin; huge, square, uneven teeth bristled in its mouth and its
bare arms were covered in waving hairs.

"Where are your masters?*' Dyvim Slorm demanded. The

STORMBRINGER           203

thing seemed to possess no fear, but chuckled: *They
predicted your coming and. since the city limits movement.
have assembled their armies on a plateau they have made five
miles to the north-east" It turned its dilated eyes to Eiric.
"Jagreen Lern sent greetings and said he anticipated your
foolish downfall."

Eiric shrugged.

Dyvim Slorm drew his own runeblade and hacked the
creature down. It cackled as it died, for its sanity had fled
with its fear. He shivered as the thing's soul-stuff blended
with his own and passed extra energy to him. Then he cursed
and looked at Eiric with pain in his eyes.

"I acted in haste—I should have given him to you."

Eiric said nothing to mis but whispered in his failing voice:

"Let's to their battlefield. Hurry!"

Up to Join their flight they went again, into me rushing,
populated air and towards me north-east

It was with astonishment that they sighted Jagreen Lern's
horde, for they could not understand how it could have man-
aged to regroup itself so swiftly. Every fiend and warrior on
earth seemed to have come to fight under the Theocrat's
standard. It dung like a vile disease to me undulating plain.
And around it. clouds grew darker, even though lightning,
obviously of supernatural origin, blossomed and shouted,
criss-crossing the plain.

Into this noisy agitation swept me dragon .flight and they
recognised the force commanded by Jagreen Lern himself for
his banner flew above it Other divisions were commanded by
Dukes of Hell—Malohin, Zhortra, Xiombarg and others.
Also Eiric noted the three mightiest Lords of Chaos, dwarfing
me rest Charoros the Reaper with his great head and his
curving scythe, Mabelode me Faceless with his face always in
shadow no matter which way you looked at h, and SIortar
me Old, slim and beautiful, reputed me oldest of the gods.
This was a force which a thousand powerful sorcerers would
find it bard to defend against, and me thought of attacking
mem seemed folly.

Eiric did not bother to consider this for he had embarked
on his plan and was committed to carrying it through even
though, in his present condition, be was bound to destroy
himself if he continued.

They had the advantage of attacking from the air, but this
would only be of value while me dragons' venom lasted.

204 Michael Moorcock

When it gave out, they must go in closer. At that moment El-
ric would need much energy—and he had none.

Down swept the dragons, shooting their incendiary venom
into the ranks of Chaos.

Normally, no army could stand against such an attack, but,
protected by sorcery, Chaos was able to turn much of the
fiery venom aside. The venom seemed to spread against an
invisible shield and dissipate. Some of it struck: its target,
however, and hundreds of warriors were engulfed in flame
and died blazing.

Again and again the dragons rose and dived upon their en-
emies, Brie swaying almost unconscious in his saddle, his
awareness of what was going on diminishing with every at-
tack.

His dimming vision was further encumbered by the stink-
ing smoke mat had begun to rise off the battlefield. From the
horde, huge lances were rising with seeming slowness, lances
of Chaos like streaks of amber lightning striking at me drag-
ons so that the beasts hit bellowed and burtlod dead to the
ground. Closer and closer, EIric's steed bore him until be was
flying over the division commanded by Jagreen Urn himself.
He caught a misty glimpse of the Theocrat sitting a repulsive,
hairless horse and waving his sword, convulsed with mocking
mirth. He faintly beard his enemy's voice drift up to him.

"Farewell. Brie—this is our last encounter, for today you
go to limbo!"

Brie turned Flamefaag about and whispered into his ear:

"That one, brother—that one"*

With a roar, Plamefang loosed his venom at me laughing
TbeocraL It seemed to Eiric that Jagreen Lern must surely be
burned to ashes, but just as the venom seemed to touch him*
it was buried back and only a few drops struck some of the
Theocrat's retainers, igniting their flesh and clothing.

Stiu Jagreen Lern laughed and now he released an amber
Spear which had appeared in his hand. Straight towards Eiric
it went and, with difficulty, the albino put up his Chaos
Shield to deflect it

So great was the force of the bolt striking his shield that he
was buried backwards in his saddle and one of the straps se-
curing him snapped so that he fen to the left and was only
saved by the other strap that had held. Now he crouched be-
hind the shield's protection as it was battered with supernatu-
ral weapons. Flamefang, too, was encompassed by the shield's

STORMfiMNGER           205

great power; but how long would even me Chaos Shield resist
mch an attack?

It seemed mat he was forced to use me shield for an infi-
nite time before Flamefang's wings cracked me air like ships
and he was rushing high above me horde.
He was dying.

Minute by minute me vitality was leaving him as If he
were an old man ready for death. "I cannot die," be mut-
tered* "I must not die. Is mere no escape from this dilemma?"

Flamefang seemed to hear him. The dragon descended
towards me ground again and dropped until its scaly belly
was scraping the lances of me horde. Then Flamefang had
landed on the unstable ground and waited with folded wings
as a group of warriors goaded their beasts towards him.

Eiric gasped: "What have you done, Flamefang? Is nothing
dependable? You have delivered me into me hands of the en-
emy!**

With great effort he drew bis sword as the first lance struck
his shield and me rider passed, grinning, sensing EIric's
weakness. Others came on both sides. Weakly, he slashed at
one and Stormbringer suddenly took control to make his aim
true. The rider's arm was pierced and he was locked to the
blade as h fed, greedily, upon his life-stuff. Immediately, Ei-
ric felt some slight return of strength and realised that be-
tween them dragon and sword were helping him gain the
energy be needed. But the blade kept the most part to itself.
There was a reason for this, as Eiric found out at once, for
the sword continued to direct bis arm. Several more riders
were slain in this manner and Eiric grinned as he felt the vi-
tality flowing back into his body. His vision cleared, his reac-
tions became normal, his spirits rose. Now he carried the
attack to the rest of me division, Flamefang moving over the
ground with a speed belying his bulk. The warriors scattered
and fled back to rejoin the main force, but Eiric no longer
cared, he had me souls of a dozen of them and it was
enough. "Now up. Flamefang! Rise and let us seek out more
powerful enemies!**

Obediently Flamefang spread his wings. They began to flap
and bear him off me ground until be was gliding low over the
horde.

In the midst of Lord Xiombarg's division, Eiric landed
again, dismounted from Flamefang and, possessed of his su-

206 Michael Moorcock

pernatural energy, rushed into the ranks of fiendish warriors,
hewing about him, invulnerable to all but the strongest attack
of Chaos. Vitality mounted and a kind of battle-madness with
it. Further and further into the ranks he sliced his way, until
he saw Lord Xiombarg in his earthly guise of a slender,
dark-haired woman. Eiric knew that the woman's shape was
no indication of Xiombarg's mighty strength but, without
fear. he leapt forwards the Duke of Hell and stood before
him, looking up at where he sat on his lion-headed, bull-
bodied mount

Xiombarg's girl's voice came sweetly to Eiric's ears. "Mor-
tal, you have defied many Dukes of Hell and banished others
back to the Higher Worlds. They call you god-slayer now, so
I've heard. Can you slay me?"

"You know that no mortal can slay one of the Lords of
the Higher Worlds whether they be of Law or Chaos, Xiom-
barg—but he can, if equipped with sufficient power, destroy
their earthly semblance and send them back to their own
plane, never to return?"

"Can you do this to me?"

"Let us see!" Eiric flung himself towards the Dark Lord.

Xiombarg was armed with a long-shafted battle-axe that
gave off a night-blue radiance. As his steed reared, he swung
the axe down at Eiric's unprotected head. The albino flung
up bis shield and the axe struck h. A kind of metallic shout
came from the weapons and huge sparks flew away. Eiric
moved in close and hacked at one of Xiombarg's feminine
legs. A light moved down from his hips and protected the leg
so that Stormbringer was brought to a stop, jarring Eiric's
arm. Again the axe struck the shield with the same effect as
before. Again Eiric tried to pierce Xiombarg's unholy de-
fence. And all the while he heard the Dark Lord's laughter,
sweetly modulated, yet as horrible as a hag's.

"Your mockery of human shape and human beauty begins
to fail, my lord!" cried Eiric, standing back for a moment to
gather his strength.

Already the giri's face was writhing and changing as, dis-
concerted by Eiric's power, the Duke of Hell spurred bis
beast down on the albino.

Eiric dodged aside and struck again. This time Storm-
bringer throbbed in his hand as it pierced Xiombarg's de-
fence and the Dark Lord moaned, retaliating with another

CTORMBRINGER            207

axe-blow which Eiric barely succeeded in blocking. He turned
his beast, the axe rushing about his head as be whirled it and
flung it at Eiric with the intention of striking him in the head.

" Eiric ducked and put up bis shield, the axe clipping it and
foiling to the shifting ground. He ran after Xiombarg who
was once again turning his steed. From nowhere he had pro-
duced another weapon, a huge double-handed broadsword,
the breadth of its blade triple that of even Stonnbringer's. It
seemed incongruous in the small, delicate hands of the
girl-shape. And its size, Eiric guessed, told something of its
power. He backed away warily, noting absently that one of
the Dark Lord's legs was missing and replaced by an insect-
like mandible. If be could only destroy the rest of Xiombarg's
disguise, he would have succeeded in banishing him.

Now Xiombarg's laughter was no longer sweet, but had an
unhinged note. The lion-head roared in unison with its mas-
ter's voice as it rushed towards Eiric. The monstrous sword
went up and crashed upon the Chaos Shield. Eiric fell on his
back, feeling the ground itch and crawl beneath him, but me
shield was still in one piece. He caught sight of the bull-
hooves pounding down on him, drew himself beneath the
shield, leaving only his sword-arm free. As the beast thun-
dered above, seeking to crush him with its hooves, he thrust
upwards into its belly. The sword was initially halted and
then seemed to pierce through whatever obstructed it and
draw out the life-force. The vitality of the unholy beast
passed from sword to man and Eiric was taken aback by its
strange, insensate quality, for the soul-stuff of an animal was
different from that of an intelligent protagonist. He rolled
from under me beast's bulk and sprang to his feet as the
lion-bull collapsed, hurling Xiombarg's still-earthly shape to
the ground.

Instantly the Dark Lord was up, standing with a peculiarly
unbalanced stance with one leg human and the other alien. It
limped swiftly towards Eiric, bringing me huge sword round
in a sideways movement that would slice Eiric in two. But Ei-
ric. full of the energy gained from Xiombarg's steed, leapt
back from the blow and struck at the sword with Storm-
bringer. The two blades met, but neither gave. Stormbringer
shrieked in anger for it was unused to resistance of this kind.
Eiric got the rim of his shield under the blade and forced it
up. For an instant Xiombarg's guard was open and Eiric

208 Micfwel Moorcock

used that instant with effect, driving Stonnbringer into the
Dark Lord's breast with all his strength.

Xiombarg whimpered and at once his earthly shape began
to dissolve as Elric*s sword sucked his energy into itself. Eiric
knew that this energy was only that fraction constituting
Xiombarg's life-force on this plane, that the maysr part of the
Dark Lord's soid was still in the Higher Worlds for not even
the most powerful of these godlmgs could summon the power
to transport all of himself to the earth. If Eiric had taken ev-
ery scrap of Xiombarg's soul. his own body could not have
retained it but would have burst. However, so much more
powerful than any human soul was the force Sowing into him
from the wound he had made, that he was once again the
vessel for a mighty energy.

Xiombarg changed. He became little more than a flickering
coil of coloured light which began to drift away and finally
vanish as XJombarg was swept, raging, back to his own
plane.

Eiric looked upwards. He was horrified to see that only a
few of the dragons survived. One was fluttering down now
and it had a rider on its back. From that distance he could
not see which of his friends it was.

He began to run towards the place where it fell-
He heard the crash as it came to ground, heard a weird
vailing, a bubbling cry and then nothing.

He battled his way through the milling warriors of Chaos
and none could withstand him, until he came at last to the
fallen dragon. There was a broken body lying on the ground
beside it, but of the ruoeblade there was no sign. It had van-
ished.

It was the body of Dyvim Slonn, last of his kinsmen.

There was no time for mourning. Eiric and Moonglum and
the bare score of remaining dragons could not possibly win
against Jagrecn Lem's strength, which had been hardly
touched by the attack. Standing over the body of bis cousin,
be placed the Horn of Fate to his lips, took a huge breath
and blew. The clear, melancholy note of the horn rang out
over the battlefield and seemed to carry in all directions,
through all the dimensions of the cosmos, through all the
myriad planes and existences, through all eternity to the ends
of the universe and the ends of Time itself.

STORMBRINGER           209

The note took long moments to fade and. when it had at
last died away, there was an absolute hush over the world,
the muling millions were still, there was an air of expectancy.

And then the White Lords came.

Five

It was as if some enormous sun, thousands of times larger
than earth's, had sent a ray of light pulsing through the cos*
mos, defying the flimsy barriers of Time and Space, to strike
upon that great black battlefield. And along it, appearing on
the pathway that the horn's weird power had created for
them, strode the majestic Lords of Law, their earthly forms
so beautiful that they challenged Elite's sanity, for his mind
could scarcely absorb the sight. They disdained to ride, like
the Lords of Chaos, on bizarre beasts* but moved without
steeds, a magnificent assembly with their mirror-clear armour
and rippling surcoats bearing the single Arrow of Law.

Leading them came Donblas die Justice Maker, a smile
upon his perfect Ups. He carried a slender sword in his right
hand, a sword that was straight and sharp and like a beam of
light itself.

EIric moved swiftly then, rushed to where Flamefang
awaited him and urged the great reptile into the moaning air.

Flamefang moved with less ease than earlier, but EIric did
not know whether it was because the beast was tired or
whether the influence of Law was weighing on toe dragon
which was, after all, a creation of Chaos.

But at last be flew beside Moonglum and, looking around,
saw that the remaining dragons had turned and were flying
back. to the West. Only their own steeds remained. Perhaps
the last of the dragons had sensed their part played and were
returning to the Dragon Caves to sleep again.

EIric and Moongkun exchanged glances but said nothing,
for the sight below was too awe inspiring to speak of.

A light, white and damling. spread from the midst of the
Lords of Law, the beam upon which they had come faded,
and they began to move towards the cpot where Chardros the
Reaper, Mabelode the Faceless, and Slortar the Old and the
210

STORMBRINGER            211

lesser Lords of Chaos had assembled themselves, ready for
the great fight

As the White Lords passed through the other denizens of
hell and the polluted men who were their comrades, these
creatures backed away screaming, falling where the radiance
touched them. The dross was being cleaned away without ef-
fort—but the real strength in the shape of the Dukes of Hell
and Jagreen Lem was still to be encountered.

Though at this stage the Lords of Law were scarcely taller
than the human beings, they seemed to dwarf them and even
EIric. high above, felt as if h& were a tiny figure, scarcely
larger than a fly. It was not their size so much as the implica-
tion of vastness which they seemed to carry with them.

Flamefang's wings beat wearily as he circled over the
scene. AH around him the dark colours were now full of
clouds of lighter, softer shades.

The Lords of Law reached the spot where their ancient en-
emies were assembled and EIric heard Lord Donblas's voice
carry up to him.

"You of Chaos have defied the edict of the Cosmic Bal-
ance and sought complete dominance of this planet. Destiny
denies you this—for the earth's life is over and it must be
resurrected in a new form where your influence will be
weak."

A sweet, mocking voice came from the ranks of Chaos. It
was the voice of Slortar the Old., "You presume too much,
brother. The fate of the earth has not yet been finally de-
cided. Our meeting will result in that decision—nothing else.
If we win. Chaos shall rule. If you succeed in banishing us,
then paltry Law bereft of possibility will gain ascendancy.
But we shall win—though Fate herself complainsi"

"Then let this thing be settled." replied Lord Donblas. and
EIric saw the shining Lords of Law advance towards their
dark opponents.

The very sky shook as they clashed. The air cried out and
the earth appeared to tilt Those lesser beings left alive scat-
tered away from the conflict and a sound like a million
throbbing harp-strings, each of a subtly variated pitch, began
to emanate from the warring gods.

EIric saw Jagreen Lern leave the ranks of the Dukes of
Hell and ride in his flaming scarlet armour, away from them.
He realised, perhaps, that his impertinence would be swiftly
rewarded by death.

212 Michael ^Soorcock

Brie sent Plamefang soaring down and he drew Storm-
bringer, yelling the Theocrat's name and shouting challenges.

Jagreen Lero looked up, but be did not laugh tbia time. He
increased hb speed until, as Eric had already noted, he saw
towards what he was riding. Ahead, the earth had turned to
black and purple gas that danced frenetically as if seeking to
free itself from the rest of the atmosphere. Jagreen Lcm
halted bis hairless horse and drew his WBMXC from his belt
He raised his flame-red buckler which, like Eiric's. was
treated against sorceraus weapons.

The dragon hurtled groundwards making Erie gasp with
the speed of its descent It flapped to earth a few yards from
where Jagreen Lem sat his horrible horse, waiting, philosoph-
ically, for Eiric to attack. Perhaps be sensed that their fight
would mirror the larger fight going on around mem, that the
outcome of me one would be reflected in the outcome of the
other. Whatever it was, he did not indulge in his usual brag-
gadocio, but waited in silence.

Careless whether Jagreen Lem had the advantage or not,
Eiric dismounted and spoke to FIamefang in a purring mur-
mur.

"Back, Flamefang, now. Back with your brothers. What-
ever cornea to pass, if I win or lose, your part is over." As
FIamefang stirred and turned his huge head to look into Ei-
ric's face, another dragon descended and landed a short dis-
tance away. Moonglum, too, dismounted, beginning to
advance through the black and purple mist Eiric shouted to
him: "I want no help in this, MoongiumF

Til give you none. But it will be my pleasure to see you
take his life and soul I"

Eiric looked at Jagreen Lem whose face was still impas-
sive.

Flamefang*s wings beat and he swept up into me sky and
was soon gone, the other dragon following. He would not re-
turn.

Eiric stalked towards the Theocrat, his shield high aod his
sword ready, Then. with astonishment, he saw Jagreen Lern
dismount from his own grotesque mount and slap its hairiess
rump to send it galloping away. He stood waiting, slightly
crouched in a position which emphasised his high-shouldered
stance. His long, dark face was taut and his eyes fixed on Ei-
ric as the albino came closer. An unstable smile of antici-
pation quivered on the Theocrat's Ups and his eyes flickered.

STORMBRINGER           213

Eiric paused just before he came within sword-reach of his
enemy. "Jagreen Lern. are you ready to pay for the crimes
you've committed against me and the world?**

"Pay? Crimes? You surprise me, Eiric, for I see you have
fully absorbed the carping attitude of your new allies. In my
conquests I have found it necessary to eliminate a few of
your friends who sought to stop me. But that was to be ex-
pected. I did what I had to and what I intended—if I have
fafled now, I have no regret, for regret is a fool's emotion
and useless in any capacity. What happened to your wife was
no direct fault of mine. Will you have triumph if you slay
me?"

Eiric shook his head. "My perspectives have. indeed,
changed, Jagreen Lem. Yet we of Melnibone were ever a
vengeful brood—and vengeance is what I claimi"

"Ah, now I understand you." Jagreen Lem changed his
stance and he raised his axe to the defensive position. "I am
ready."

Eiric leapt at him, Stormbringer shrieking through the air
to crash against the scariet buckler and crash again. Three
blows he delivered before Jagreen Lern's axe sought to
wriggle through his defence and he halted it by a sideways
movement of the Chaos Shield. The axe succeeded only in
grazing his arm near the shoulder. Eiric's shield clanged
against Jagreen Lera's and Eiric attempted to exert his weight
and push the Theocrat backwards, meanwhile stabbing
around Ae rims of the locked shields and trying to penetrate
Jagreen Lem*s guard.

For some moments they remained in this position while the
music of the battle sounded around them and the ground
seemed to fall from under them, columns of blossoming
colours erupting, like magical plants, on all sides. Then
Jagreen Lem jumped back, slashing at Eiric. The albino
rushed forward, ducked and struck at the Theocrat's leg near
the knee—and missed. From above, the axe dashed down and
be flung himself to one side to avoid it. Carried off-balance
by the force of the blow, Jagreen Lern staggered and Eiric
leapt up and kicked at the small of the Theocrafs back. The
man fell sprawling, losing bis grip on both axe and shield as
be tried to do many things at once and failed to do anything.
Ehic put his heel on the Theocrat's neck and held him there,
Stonnbringer hovering greedily over his prone enemy.

Jagreen Lem heaved his body round so that he looked up

214 Michael Moorcock

at Eiric. He was suddenly pale and his eyes were fixed on the
black hcllblade when he spoke hoarsely to Eiric. "Finish me
now. There's no place for my soul in all eternity—not any
more. I must go to limbo—so finish met**

Brie was about to allow Stonnbringer to plunge itself into
the defeated Theocrat when he stayed the weapon, holding it
back from its prey with difficulty. The nmesword murmured
in frustration and tugged in his hand.

"No," he said slowly. "I want Doming of yours. Jagreen
Lem. I would not pollute my being by feeding off your soul.
Moooglumi" His friend ran up. "Moonglum, hand me your
blade."

Silently, the little Easflaoder obeyed. Eiric sheathed the
resisting Stonnbringer, saying to ft: "There—(hat's the first
time I've stopped you from feeding. What will you do now, I
wonder?" Then he took Moonglum's blade and slashed it
across Jagreen Lcra's cheek, opening it up in a long, deep cut
which began slowly to fill with blood,

The Theocrat screamed.

"No. Eiric—tffl me!"

With an absent smile, Eiric slashed the other cheek. His
bloody face contorted, Jagreen Lern shouted for death, but
Eiric continued to smile his vague, half-aware smile, and said
softly: "You sought to imitate the Emperors of 'Melnibooe,
did you not? You mocked Eiric of that line, you tortured.him
and you abducted his wife. You moulded her body into a
hell-shape as you moulded the rest of the world. You slew El-
ric's friends and challenged him in your impertinence. But
you are nothing—you are more of a pawn than Eiric ever
was. Now. little roan. know how the folk of Melnibone toyed
with such upstarts in the days when they ruled the woridF

Jagreen Lern took an hour to die and only then because
Moooglum begged Eiric to finish him swiftly.

Eiric handed Moonglum's tainted sword back to him after
wiping it on a shred of fabric that had been part of the Theo-
crat's robe. He looked down at the mutilated body and stirred
it with his foot, then he looked away to where the Lords of
the Higher Worlds were embattled.

He was badly weakened from the fight and also from the
energy he had been forced to exert to return the resisting
Stonnbringer to its sheath, but this was forgotten as he stared
in wonder at the gigantic battle.

Both the Lords of Law and those of Chaos had become

STORMBRINGER

215

huge and misty as their earthly mass diminished and they
continued to fight in human shape. They were like half-real
giants, fighting everwhere now—on the land and above it
Far away on the rim of the horizon, he saw Donblas the Jus-
tice Maker engaged with Chardros the Reaper, their outlines
flickering and spreading, the slim sword daring and the great
scythe sweeping.

Unable to participate, unsure which side was winning, Ei-
ric and Moonglum watched as the intensity of the battle in-
creased and, with it, the slow dissolution of the gods' earthly
manifestation. The fight was no longer merely on the earth
but seemed to be raging throughout all the planes of the cos-
mos and, as if in unison with this transformation, the earth
appeared to be losing its form, until Eiric and Moonglum
drifted in the mingled swiri of air, fire, earth and water.

The earth dissolved—yet still the Lords of the Higher
Worlds battled over it

The stuff of the earth alone remained, but unformed. Its
components were still in existence, but their new shape was
undecided. The fight continued. The victors would have the
privilege of re-forming the earth.

Six

At last, though Eiric did not know how, the turbulent dart
gave way to light, and there came a noise—a cosmic roar of
hate and frustration—and he knew that the Lords of Chaos
had been defeated and banished. The Lords of Law victori-
ous, Fate's plan had been achieved, though it still required
the last note of the hom to bring it to its required conclusion.

And Eiric realised be did not have the strength left to blow
the hom the third time.

About the two friends, the worid was taking on a distinct
shape again. They found they were standing on a rocky plain
and in the distance were the slender peaks of new-formed
mountains, purple against a mellow sky.

Then the earth began to move. Faster and faster it whirled,
day giving way to night with incredible rapidity, and then it
began to slow until the sun was again all but motionless in
the sky, moving with something like its customary speed.

The change had taken place. Law ruled here now. yet the
Lords of Law had departed without thanks.

And though Law ruled, it could not progress until the horn
was blown for the last time.

"So it is over," Moonglum murmured. "All gone—Elwher,
my birth-place, Karlaak by the Weeping Waste, Bakshaan,
even the Dreaming City and the Isle of Melnibone. They no
longer exist, they cannot be retrieved. And this is the new
worid formed by Law. It looks much the same as the old.*'

Eiric, too, was filled with a sense of loss, knowing that all
the places that were familiar to him, even the very continents
were gone and replaced by different ones. It was like the loss
of childhood and perhaps that was what it was—the passing
of the earth's childhood.

He shrugged away the thought and smiled. *Tm supposed
to blow the hom for the final time if me earth's new life is to
216

217

begin. Yet I haven't the strength. Pcrhapi Fate la to be
thwarted after all?"

Moonglum looked at him strangely. "I hope not, friend."

Eiric sighed. "We are the last two left, Moongtum. you and
L It n fittmg that even the mighty events that have taken
place have not burned our friendship, have not separated w.
You are the only friead whose company has not worn on me,
the only one I have trusted."

Moonghnn grinned a shadow of his old, cocky grin. "And
where we've shared adventures, I've usually profited if you
have not The partnership has been complementary. I shall
never know why I chose to share your destiny. Perhaps ft was
no doing of mine, but Fate's, for there n one final act of
friendship I can perform.. .**

Eiric was about to question Moonglum when a quiet voice
came from behind him.

"I bear two messages. One of thanks from me Lords of
Law—and another from a more powerful entity."

"SepirizF Eiric turned to face his mentor. "Wen. are yon
satisfied with my work?**

"Aye—greatly." Sepiriz's face was sad and he stared at Ei-
ric with a look of profound sympathy. "You have succeeded
in everything but the last act which is to blow the Horn of
Fate for the thud time. Because of you me world shall know
progression and its new people shall have me opportunity to
advance by degrees to a new state of being."

"But what is the meaning of it all?" Eiric said. "That 2
have never fully understood.**

••Who can? Who can know wfay me Cosmic Balance exists,
why Fate exists and the Lords of the Higher Worlds. Why
mere must always be a champion to fight such battles? There
seems to be an infinity of space and time and possibilities.
There may be an infinite number of beings, one above me
other, who see the final purpose, though, in infinity, there can
be no final purpose. Perhaps all is cyclic and this same event
win occur again and again until the universe is run down and
fades away as me worid we knew has faded. Meaning, Eiric?
Do not seek that. for madness lies in such a course.'*

"No meaning, no pattern. Then why have I suffered aU

A^

"Perhaps even the gods seek meaning and pattern and this

is merely one attempt to find it. Look—" he waved his hands
to indicate the newly-formed earth. "All this is fresh and

218 Michael Moorcock

moulded by logic. Perhaps the logic wiu control the new-
comers, perhaps a factor will occur to destroy that logic. The
gods experiment, the Cosmic Balance guides the destiny.of
the earth, men struggle and credit the gods with knowing why
they struggle—but do the gods know?"

"You disturb me further when I had hoped to be com-
forted." he sighed. "I have lost wife and worid—and do not
know why."

"I am sony. I have come to wish you farewell, nay friend.
Do what you must."

"Aye. Shall I see you again?"

"No, for we are both truly dead. Our age has gone.**

Sepiriz seemed to twist in the air and disappear.

A cold silence remained.

At length Eiric's thoughts were interrupted by Moonghnn.
"You must blow the horn, Eiric. Whether ft means nothing or
much—you must Mow it and finish this business forever!**

"How? I have scarcely enough strength to stand on my
feet"

"I have decided what you roust do. Slay roe with
Stonnbringer. Take my soul and vitality into yourself—then
you will have sufficient power to blow the last blast**

-Kill you, MoonglumI The only one left—my only true
friend? You babble"*

"I mean it You must, for there is nothing else to do. Fur-
ther, we have no place here and roust die soon at any rate.
You told me how Zarozinia gave you her soul—weu. take
mine,tool"

"I cannot"

Moooglum paced towards him and reached down to grip
Stormbmger's hilt, pulling it half-way from the sheath.

-Wo, Moonglum!"

But now the sword sprang from the sheath on its own voli-
tion. Eiric struck Moonglum's hand away and gripped the
hilt He could not stop it The sword rose up. dragging his
arm with it, poised to deliver a blow,

Moonglum stood with his arms by bis side, his face ex-
pressionless, though Eiric thought be glimpsed a flicker of
fear in the eyes. He struggled to control the blade, but knew
it was impossible.

"Let it do its work, Eiric.**

The blade plunged forward and pierced Moonglum's heart.

STORMBRINGER            219

His blood sprang out and covered it His eyes blurred and
filled with horror. "Ah. no—I—had—not—expected thisi"

Petrified, Eiric could not tug the sword from his friend's
heart Moongluro's energy began to flow up its length and
course into his body, yet, even when all the little Eastlander's
vitality was absorbed. Eiric remained staring at the small
corpse untfl the tears flowed from his crimson eyes and a
great sob racked him- Then the blade came free.

He flung it away from him and it did not clatter on die
rocky ground but landed as a body might land. Then it
seemed to move towards him and stop and be had the suspi-
cion mat it was watching him.

He took the hom and put it to his Ups. He blew the blast
to herald in the night of the new earth. The night that would
precede the new dawn. And though the horn's note was tri-
umphant, Eiric was not He stood full of infinite loneliness
and infinite sorrow, his head tilted back as me sound rang on.
And, when the note faded from triumph to a dying echo that
expressed something of Eiric's misery, a huge outline began
to form in the sky above the earth, as if summoned by the
hom.

It was the outline of a gigantic hand holding a balance and,
as he watched, the balance began to right itself until each
side was true.

And somehow this relieved Eiric's sorrow as he released his
grip on the Horn of Fate.

"There is something, at least,** he said, "and if ifs an illu-
sion, then it's a reassuring one."

He turned his head to one side and saw the blade leave the
ground, sweep into the air and then rush down on him.

"Stonnbringer!" be cried, and then the helsword struck his
chest, he felt the icy touch of the blade against bis heart,
reached out his fingers to clutch at ft, felt his body constrict,
felt it sucking his soul from me very depths of his being, felt
his whole personality being drawn into the nmesword. He
knew, as his life faded to combine with the sword's, that it
had always been his destiny to die in this manner. With the
blade he had killed friends and lovers, stolen their souls to
feed his own waning strength. It was as if the sword had al-
ways used him to this end, as if he was merely a manifesta-
tion of Stonnbringer and was now being taken back into the
body of the blade which had never been a true sword. And,
as he died, he wept again, for be knew that the fraction of

220 Michael Moorcock

the sword's soul which was his would never know rest but
was doomed to immortality, to eternal struggle.

Eiric of Melnibone, last of the Bright Emperors, cried out,
and then his body collapsed, a sprawled husk beside its com-
rade, and he lay beneath the mighty balance that still hung in
the sky.

Then Stormbringer's shape began to change, writhing and
curling above the body of the albino, finally to stand astrad-
dle it

The entity that was Stonnbringer. last manifestation of
Chaos which would remain with this new worid as it grew,
looked down on the corpse of Brie of Melnibon6 and smiled.

"Farewell, friend. I was a thousand times more evil than
thou!"

And then it leapt from the Earth and went spearing up-
wards, its wild voice laughing mockery at the Cosmic Bal-
ance; filling the universe with its unholy joy.

THE END

of the Saga of Eiric of Melmbone.

About the Author

Born in London in 1939, Michael Moorcock became involved
with the worlds of science fiction and fantasy at an early age. He
edited Tarzan Adventures at 17, and became the guiding hand
behind the British SF magazine New Worlds in 1964. A major
influence in the development of "New Wave" science fiction, he
encouraged the use of experimental styles and ground-breaking
topics in a movement which shocked many but changed the face of
science fiction. Asafantasist, Moorcock is best known for the Eiric
series, which A Reader's Guide to Fantasy describes as "a four-
dimensional superseries which is marked by consistently high-
quality narrative prose and inventive plotting," and for the World
Fantasy Award winning novel Cloriana. Moorcock is a multiple
winner of the British Fantasy Award for novels and short fiction.

About the Artist

Robert Gould has been involved with the creation and publica-
tion of Romantic Art for eight years. The artist's association with
Moorcock s Eiric of Melnibone began with an original graphic
story published in 1976 by Star-Reach Publications of California
His visualization of the world of Eiric continued variously in
books, portfolios and several posters. Moorcock has said of
Gould s cover designs for this new edition of the £/ric series, "I
think they're tremendous . . I couldn't have asked for better."

Currently Robert Gould is in partnership with Mark Halperin
in CYGNUS which publishes his work and that of other contem-
porary Romantic Artists in limited edition reproductions For
more information about the artist, contact: CYGNUS, 721 Mas-
sachusetts Avenue, Arlington, MA, 02174.