Michael Moorcock - Elric 4 - The Vanishing Tower

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BOOK ONE

The Torment of the Last Lord

.. . and then did Elric leave Jharkor

in pursuit of a certain sorcerer who

had, so Elric claimed, caused him

some inconvenience ...

—The Chronicle of the Black Sword

CHAPTER ONE

Pale Prince on a Moonlit Shore

In the sky, a cold moon, cloaked in clouds,

sent down faint light that fell upon a sullen sea where

a ship lay at anchor off an uninhabited coast.

From the ship a boat was being lowered. It swayed in

its harness. Two figures, swathed in long capes, watched

the seamen lowering the boat while they, themselves,

tried to calm horses which stamped their hooves on

the unstable deck and snorted and rolled their eyes.

The shorter figure clung hard to his horse's bridle

and grumbled.

"Why should this be necessary? Why could not we

have disembarked at Trepesaz? Or at least some fish-

ing harbour boasting an inn, however lowly. . . ."

"Because, friend Moonglum, I wish our arrival in

Lormyr to be secret. If Theleb K'aarna knew of my

coming—as he soon would if we went to Trepesaz —

then he would fly again and the chase would begin

afresh. Would you welcome that?"

Moonglum shrugged. "I still feel that your pursuit

of this sorcerer is no more than a surrogate for real

activity. You seek him because you do not wish to seek

your proper destiny. ..."

Elric turned his bone-white face in the moonlight

and regarded Moonglum with crimson, moody eyes.

"And what of it? You need not accompany me if you

do not wish to. ..."

Again Moonglum shrugged his shoulders. "Aye. I

know. Perhaps I stay with you for the same reasons

that you pursue the sorcerer of Pan Tang." He grinned.

"So that's enough of debate, eh, Lord Elric?"

"Debate achieves nothing," Elric agreed. He patted

his horse's nose as more seamen, clad in colourful

Tarkeshite silks, came forward to take the horses and

hoist them down to the waiting boat.

Struggling, whinnying through the bags muffling their

heads, the horses were lowered, their hooves thudding

on the bottom of the boat as if they would stave it in.

Then Elric and Moonglum, their bundles on their

backs, swung down the ropes and jumped into the rock-

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ing craft. The sailors pushed off from the ship with their

oars and then, bodies bending, began to row for the

shore.

The late autumn air was cold. Moonglum shivered as

he stared towards the bleak cliffs ahead. "Winter is

near and I'd rather be domiciled at some friendly tavern

than roaming abroad. When this business is done with

the sorcerer, what say we head for Jadmar or one of the

other big Vilmirian cities and see what mood the

warmer clime puts us in?"

But Elric did not reply. His strange eyes stared into

the darkness and they seemed to be peering into the

depths of his own soul and not liking what they saw.

Moonglum sighed and pursed his lips. He huddled

deeper in his cloak and rubbed his hands to warm

them. He was used to his friend's sudden lapses of

silence, but familiarity did not make him enjoy them

any better. From somewhere on the shore a nightbird

shrieked and a small animal squealed. The sailors

grunted as they pulled on their oars.

The moon came out from behind the clouds and it

shone on Elric's grim, white face, made his crimson

eyes seem to glow like the coals of hell, revealed the

barren cliffs of the shore.

The sailors shipped their oars as the boat's bottom

ground on shingle. The horses, smelling land, snorted

and moved their hooves. Elric and Moonglum rose to

steady them.

Two seamen leaped into the cold water and brought

the boat up higher. Another patted the neck of Elric's

horse and did not look directly at the albino as he

spoke. "The captain said you would pay me when we

reached the Lormyrian shore, my lord."

Elric grunted and reached under his cloak. He drew

out a jewel that shone brightly through the darkness of

the night. The sailor gasped and stretched out his hand

to take it. "Xiombarg's blood, I have never seen so fine

a gem!"

Elric began to lead the horse into the shallows and

Moonglum hastily followed him, cursing under his

breath and shaking his head from side to side.

Laughing among themselves, the sailors shoved the

boat back into deeper water.

As Elric and Moonglum mounted their horses and

the boat pulled through the darkness towards the ship,

Moonglum said: "That jewel was worth a hundred

times the cost of our passage!"

"What of it?" Elric fitted his feet in his stirrups and

made his horse walk towards a part of the cliff which

was less steep than the rest. He stood up in his stirrups

for a moment to adjust his cloak and settle himself

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more firmly in his saddle. "There is a path here, by the

look of it. Much overgrown."

"I would point out," Moonglum said bitterly, "that

if it were left to you, Lord Elric, we should have no

means of livelihood at all. If I had not taken the pre-

caution of retaining some of the profits made from the

sale of that trireme we captured and auctioned in

Dhakos, we should be paupers now."

"Aye," returned Elric carelessly, and he spurred his

horse up the path that led to the top of the cliff.

In frustration Moonglum shook his head, but he fol-

lowed the albino.

By dawn they were riding over the undulating land-

scape of small hills and valleys that made up the ter-

rain of Lormyr's most northerly peninsula.

"Since Theleb K'aarna must needs live off rich pa-

trons," Elric explained as they rode, "he will almost

certainly go to the capital, Iosaz, where King Montan

rules. He will seek service with some noble, perhaps

King Montan himself."

"And how soon shall we see the capital, Lord Elric?"

Moonglum looked up at the clouds.

"It is several days' ride, Master Moonglum."

Moonglum sighed. The sky bore signs of snow and

the tent he carried rolled behind his saddle was of thin

silk, suitable for the hotter lands of the East and West.

He thanked his gods that he wore a thick quilted

jerkin beneath his breastplate and that before he had

left the ship he had pulled on a pair of woollen breeks

to go beneath the gaudier breeks of red silk that were

his outer wear. His conical cap of fur, iron and leather

had earflaps which were now drawn tightly and se-

cured by a thong beneath his chin and his heavy deer-

skin cape was drawn closely around his shoulders.

Elric, for his part, seemed not to notice the chill

weather. His own cape flapped behind him. He wore

breeks of deep blue silk, a high collared shirt of black

silk, a steel breastplate lacquered a gleaming black, like

his helmet, and embossed with patterns of delicate

silverwork. Behind his saddle were deep panniers and

across this was a bow and a quiver of arrows. At his

side swung the huge runesword Stormbringer, the

source of his strength and his misery, and on his right

hip was a long dirk, presented him by Queen Yishana

of Jharkor.

Moonglum bore a similar bow and quiver. On each

hip was a sword, one short and straight, the other long

and curved, after the fashion of the men of Elwher, his

homeland. Both blades were in scabbards of beautifully

worked Ilmioran leather, embellished with stitching of

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scarlet and gold thread.

Together the pair looked, to those who had not heard

of them, like free travelling mercenaries who had been

more successful than most in their chosen careers.

Their horses bore them tirelessly through the country-

side. These were tall Shazarian steeds, known all over

the Young Kingdoms for their stamina and intelligence.

After several weeks cooped up in the hold of the Tarke-

shite ship they were glad to be moving again.

Now small villages—squat houses of stone and

thatch—came in sight, but Elric and Moonglum were

careful to avoid them.

Lormyr was one of the oldest of the Young Kingdoms

and much of the world's history had been made there.

Even the Melniboneans had heard the tales of Lormyr's

hero of ancient times, Aubec of Malador of the province

of Klant, who was said to have carved new lands from

the stuff of Chaos that had once existed at the World's

Edge. But Lormyr had long since declined from her

peak of power (though still a major nation of the South-

west) and had mellowed into a nation that was at once

picturesque and cultured. Elric and Moonglum passed

pleasant farmsteads, well-nurtured fields, vineyards and

orchards in which the golden-leaved trees were sur-

rounded by time-worn, moss-grown walls. A sweet land

and a peaceful land in contrast to the rawer, bustling

North-western nations of Jharkor, Tarkesh and Dhari-

jor which they had left behind.

Moonglum gazed around him as they slowed their

horses to a trot. "Theleb K'aarna could work much mis-

chief here, Elric. I am reminded of the peaceful hills

and plains of Elwher, my own land."

Elric nodded. "Lormyr's years of turbulence ended

when she cast off Melnibone's shackles and was first to

proclaim herself a free nation. I have a liking for this

restful landscape. It soothes me. Now we have another

reason for finding the sorcerer before he begins to stir

his brew of corruption."

Moonglum smiled quietly. "Be careful, my lord, for

you are once again succumbing to those soft emotions

you so despise. . . ."

Elric straightened his back. "Come. Let's make haste

for Iosaz."

"The sooner we reach a city with a decent tavern

and a warm fire, the better." Moonglum drew his cape

tighter about his thin body.

"Then pray that the sorcerer's soul is soon sent to

Limbo, Master Moonglum, for then I'll be content to

sit before the fire all winter long if it suits you."

And Elric made his horse break into a sudden gallop

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as grey evening closed over the tranquil hills.

CHAPTER TWO

White Face Staring Through Snow

Lormyr was famous for her great rivers. It

was her rivers that had helped make her rich and had

kept her strong.

After three days' travelling, when a light snow had

begun to drift from the sky, Elric and Moonglum rode

out of the hills and saw before them the foaming waters

of the Schlan River, tributary of the Zaphra-Trepek

which flowed from beyond Iosaz down to the sea at

Trepesaz.

No ships sailed the Schlan at this point, for there

were rapids and huge waterfalls every few miles, but at

the old town of Stagasaz, built where the Schlan joined

the Zaphra-Trepek, Elric planned to send Moonglum

into town and buy a small boat in which they could

sail up the Zaphra-Trepek to Iosaz where Theleb

K'aarna was almost certain to be.

They followed the banks of the Schlan now, riding

hard and hoping to reach the outskirts of the town be-

fore nightfall. They rode past fishing villages and the

houses of minor nobles, they were occasionally hailed

by friendly fishermen who trawled the quieter reaches

of the river, but they did not stop. The fishermen were

typical of the area, with ruddy features and huge curl-

ing moustaches, dressed in heavily embroidered linen

smocks and leather boots that reached almost to their

thighs; men who in past times had been ever ready to

lay down their nets, pick up swords and halberds and

mount horses to go to the defence of their homeland.

"Could we not borrow one of their boats?" Moon-

glum suggested. But Elric shook his head. "The fisher-

men of the Schlan are well known for their gossiping.

The news of our presence might well precede us and

warn Theleb K'aarna."

"You seem needlessly cautious. ..."

"I have lost him too often."

More rapids came in sight. Great black rocks

glistened in the gloom and roaring water gushed over

them, sending spray high into the air. There were no

houses or villages here and the paths beside the banks

were narrow and treacherous so that Elric and Moon-

glum were forced to slow their pace and make their

way with caution.

Moonglum shouted over the noise of the water:

"We'll not reach Stagasaz by nightfall now!"

Elric nodded. "We'll make camp below the rapids.

There."

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The snow was still falling and the wind drove it

against their faces so that it became even more difficult

to pick their way along the narrow track that now

wound high above the river.

But at last the tumult began to die and the track

widened out and the waters calmed and, with relief,

they looked about them over the plain to find a likely

camping place.

It was Moonglum who saw them first.

His finger was unsteady as he pointed into the sky

towards the north.

"Elric. What make you of those?"

Elric peered up into the lowering sky, brushing

snowflakes from his face.

His expression was at first puzzled. His brow fur-

rowed and his eyes narrowed.

Black shapes against the sky.

Winged shapes.

It was impossible at this distance to judge then: scale,

but they did not fly the way birds fly. Elric was re-

minded of another flying creature—a creature he had

last seen when he and the Sealords fled burning Imrryr

and the folk of Melnibone had released their vengeance

upon the reavers.

That vengeance had taken two forms.

The first form had been the golden battle-barges

which had waited for the attack as they left the Dream-

ing City.

The second form had been the great dragons of the

Bright Empire.

And these creatures in the distance had something

of the look of dragons.

Had the Melniboneans discovered a means of waking

the dragons before the end of their normal sleeping

time? Had they unleashed their dragons to seek out

Elric, who had slain his own kin, betrayed his own un-

human kind in order to have revenge on his cousin

Yyrkoon who had usurped Elric's place on the Ruby

Throne of Imrryr?

Now Elric's expression hardened into a grim mask.

His crimson eyes shone like polished rubies. His left

hand fell upon the hilt of his great black battleblade, the

runesword Stormbringer, and he controlled a rising

sense of horror.

For now, in mid-air, the shapes had changed. No

longer did they have the appearance of dragons, but

this time they seemed to be like multicoloured swans,

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whose gleaming feathers caught and diffracted the few

remaining rays of light.

Moonglum gasped as they came nearer.

"They are huge!"

"Draw your swords, friend Moonglum. Draw them

now and pray to whatever gods rule over Elwher. For

these are creatures of sorcery and they are doubtless

sent by Theleb K'aarna to destroy us. My respect for

that conjurer increases."

"What are they, Elric?"

"Creatures of Chaos. In Melnibone" they are called

the Oonai. They can change shape at will. A sorcerer

of great mental discipline, of superlative powers, who

knows the apposite spells can master them and deter-

mine their appearance. Some of my ancestors could

do such things, but I thought no mere conjurer of Pan

Tang could master the chimerae!"

"Do you know no spell to counter them?"

"None comes readily to mind. Only a Lord of Chaos

such as my patron demon Arioch could dismiss them."

Moonglum shuddered. "Then call your Arioch, I

beg you!"

Elric darted a half-amused glance at Moonglum.

"These creatures must fill you with great fear indeed

if you are prepared to entertain the presence of Arioch,

Master Moonglum."

Moonglum drew his long, curved sword. "Perhaps

they have no business with us," he suggested. "But it

is as well to be prepared."

Elric smiled. "Aye."

Then Moonglum drew his straight sword, curling his

horse's reins around his arm.

A shrill, cackling sound from the skies.

The horses pawed at the ground.

The cackling grew louder. The creatures opened

their beaks and called to one another and it was very

plain now that they were indeed something other than

gigantic swans, for they had curling tongues. And there

were slim, sharp fangs bristling in those beaks. They

changed direction slightly, winging straight for the two

men.

Elric flung back his head and drew out his great

sword and raised it skyward. It pulsed and moaned

and a strange, black radiance poured from it, casting

peculiar shadows over its owner's blanched features.

The Shazarian horse screamed and reared and words

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began to pour from Elric's tormented face.

"Arioch! Arioch! Arioch! Lord of the Seven Darks,

Duke of Chaos, aid me! Aid me now, Arioch!"

Moonglum's own horse had backed away in panic

and the little man was having great difficulty in con-

trolling it. His own features were almost as pale as

Elric's.

"Arioch!"

Overhead the chimerae began to circle.

"Arioch! Blood and souls if you will aid me now!"

Then, some yards away, a dark mist seemed to well

up from nowhere. It was a boiling mist that had strange,

disgusting shapes in it

"Arioch!"

The mist grew still thicker.

"Arioch! I beg you—aid me now!"

The horse pawed at the air, snorting and screaming,

its eyes rolling, its nostrils flaring. Yet Elric, his lips

curled back over his teeth so that he looked like a rabid

wolf, continued to keep his seat as the dark mist quiv-

ered and a strange, unearthly face appeared in the

upper part of the shifting column. It was a face of won-

derful beauty, of absolute evil. Moonglum turned his

head away, unable to regard it.

A sweet, sibilant voice issued from the beautiful

mouth. The mist swirled languidly, becoming a mottled

scarlet laced with emerald green.

"Greetings, Elric," said the face. "Greetings, most

beloved of my children."

"Aid me, Arioch!"

"Ah," said the face, its tone full of rich regret. "Ah,

that cannot be. ..."

"You must aid me!"

The chimerae had hesitated in their descent, sight-

ing the peculiar mist.

"It is impossible, sweetest of my slaves. There are

other matters afoot in the Realm of Chaos. Matters of

enormous moment to which I have already referred.

I offer only my blessings.

"Arioch—I beg thee!"

"Remember your oath to Chaos and remain loyal to

us in spite of all. Farewell, Elric."

And the dark mist vanished.

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And the chimerae came closer.

And Elric drew a racking breath while the rune-

sword whined in his hand and quivered and its radiance

dimmed a little.

Moonglum spat on the ground. "A powerful patron,

Elric, but a damned inconstant one." Then he flung

himself from his saddle as a creature which changed

its shape a dozen times as it arrowed towards him

reached out huge claws which clashed in the air where

he had been. The riderless horse reared again, striking

out at the beast of Chaos.

A fanged snout snapped.

Blood vomited from the place where the horse's

head had been and the carcass kicked once more be-

fore falling to the ground to pour more gore into the

greedy earth.

Bearing the remains of the head in what was first a

scaled snout, then a beak, then a sharklike mouth, the

Oonai thrashed back into the air.

Moonglum picked himself up. His eyes contem-

plated nothing but his own imminent destruction.

Elric, too, leapt from his horse and slapped its flank

so that convulsively it began to gallop away towards

the river. Another chimera followed it.

This tune the flying thing seized the horse's body in

claws which suddenly sprouted from its feet. The horse

struggled to get free, threatening to break its own back-

bone in its struggles, but it could not. The chimera

flapped towards the clouds with its catch.

Snow fell thicker now, but Elric and Moonglum

were oblivious of it as they stood together and awaited

the next attack of the Oonai.

Moonglum said quietly: "Is there no other spell you

know, friend Elric?"

The albino shook his head. "Nothing specific to deal

with these. The Oonai always served the folk of Melni-

bone. They never threatened us. So we needed no spell

against them. I am trying to think. . . ."

The chimerae cackled and yelled in the air above the

two men's heads.

Then another broke away from the pack and dived

to the Earth.

"They attack individually," Elric said in a somewhat

detached tone, as if studying insects in a bottle. "They

never attack in a pack. I know not why."

The Oonai had settled on the ground and it had now

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assumed the shape of an elephant with the huge head

of a crocodile.

"Not an aesthetic combination," said Elric.

The ground shook as it charged towards them.

They stood shoulder to shoulder as it approached.

It was almost upon them—

—and at the last moment they divided, Elric throw-

ing himself to one side and Moonglum to the other.

The chimera passed between them and Elric struck

at the thing's side with his runesword.

The sword sang out almost lasciviously as it bit deep

into the flesh which instantly changed and became a

dragon dripping flaming venom from its fangs.

But it was badly wounded.

Blood ran from the deep wound and the chimera

screamed and changed shape again and again as if

seeking some form in which the wound could not exist.

Black blood now burst from its side as if the strain

of the many changes had ruptured its body all the more.

It fell to its knees and the lustre faded from its feath-

ers, died from its scales, disappeared from its skin. It

kicked out once and then was still—a heavy, black,

piglike creature whose lumpen body was the ugliest

Elric and Moonglum had ever seen.

Moonglum grunted.

"It is not hard to understand why such a creature

should want to change its form...."

He looked up.

Another was descending.

This had the appearance of a whale with wings, but

with curved fangs, like those of a stomach fish, and a

tail like an enormous corkscrew.

Even as it landed it changed shape again.

Now it had assumed human form. It was a huge,

beautiful figure, twice as tall as Elric. It was naked and

perfectly proportioned, but its stare was vacant and it

had the drooling lips of an idiot child. Lithely it ran at

them, its huge hands reaching out to grasp them as a

child might reach for a toy.

This time Elric and Moonglum struck together, one

at each hand.

Moonglum's sharp sword cut the knuckles deeply

and Elric's lopped off two fingers before the Oonai

altered its shape again and began first to be an octopus,

then a monstrous tiger, then a combination of both,

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file:///F|/rah/Michael%20Moorcock/Moorcock,%20Michael%20-%20Elric%204%20-%20The%20Vanishing%20Tower.txtBOOKONETheTormentoftheLastLord...andthendidElricleaveJharkorinpursuitofacertainsorcererwhohad,soElricclaimed,causedhimsomeinconvenience...—TheChronicleoftheBlackSwordCHAPTERONEPalePrinceonaMoonlit...

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Michael Moorcock - Elric 4 - The Vanishing Tower

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