The Dragon in the Sword Read online

  – I shall never bear it again. It was a terrible blade. I have no further use for it. Or for any sword like it. I recall you said there were two of them…

  – I said that there were sometimes two. That perhaps it was an illusion; that there was in fact only one. I am not sure. You bore the one you shall call (or have called) Stormbringer. Now, I suppose, you seek Mournblade.

  – You spoke of some destiny attached to the blades. You suggested my destiny was linked with theirs…

  – Ah, did I now? Well, your memory’s improving. Good, good. It will be of some help to you I am sure. Or perhaps not. Do you already know that each of these swords is a vessel for something else? They were forged, I understand, to be filled, to be inhabited. To possess, if you like, a soul. You’re baffled, I can see. Unfortunately I’m fairly mystified myself. I get intimations, of course. Intimations of our various fates. And those are frequently mixed up. I’ll confuse you and very likely myself also if I continue in this vein! I can already see you are unwell. Is it merely a touch of physical sickness or does it extend to your brain?

  – Can you help me find Ermizhad, Jermays? Can you tell me where lies Tanelorn? That is all I wish to know. The rest of it I do not care for at all. I want no more talk of destiny, of swords, of ships and strange countries. Where is Tanelorn?

  – The ship sails there, does it not? I understand that Tanelorn is her final destination. There are so many cities called Tanelorn and the ship carries a cargo of so many identities. Yet all are the same or some aspect of the same personality. Too much for me, Sir Champion. You must go back aboard.

  – I do not wish to return to the Dark Ship.

  – You disembarked too soon.

  – I did not know where the ship was bearing me. I was afraid I would lose direction and never discover Ermizhad again.

  – So that was why you left! Did you think you had found your goal? That there was any other way of finding it?

  – Did I disembark against the Captain’s will? Am I being punished for that?

  – It’s unlikely. The Captain’s no great punisher. He is not an arbiter. Rather he is a translator, I would say. But all that’s for you to ascertain for yourself once you return to the ship.

  – I do not want to be aboard that Dark Ship again.

  I wiped a mixture of tears and perspiration from my eyes and it was as if I had wiped Jermays from my vision, for he had gone.

  I rose and clad myself, yelling for my old armour. I made them put it on me, though I could scarcely hold myself steady on my feet. Then I ordered a great sea-sled harnessed with the mighty herons trained to pull it across those salty, undulating plains, those dying oceans. I snarled at those who would follow me. I ordered them to go back to the Scarlet Fjord. I refused their friendship. I sped from the sight of all humankind, into the brine-heavy night, my head lifted back as I howled like a dog and I cried for my Ermizhad. There was no response. I had hardly expected any. So I called instead to the Captain of the Dark Ship. I called to every god and goddess I could name. And lastly I called to myself—to John Daker, Erekosë, Urlik, Clen, Elric, Hawkmoon, Corum and all the others. I called lastly to the Black Sword itself, but I was received by a most terrible, unkind silence.

  I looked into the faded light of dawn and thought I saw a great cliff lined with gaunt warriors. It was those same warriors who had stood upon the edge of that cliff for an eternity, each one with my face. But I had seen nothing but clouds, thick as the ocean on which I sailed.

  – Ermizhad! Where are you? Who or what will take me to you?

  I heard a sly, unpleasant wind whispering near the horizon. I heard the flap of my herons’ wings. I heard my sea-sled thump upon the surface of the waves. And I heard my own voice saying that there was only one thing I could do, since no power would come to my aid. It was, of course, the reason I had come out here alone. Why I had clad myself in the full battle armour of Urlik Skarsol, Lord of the Frozen Keep. – You must throw yourself in to the sea, I said. – You must let yourself sink. You must drown. In dying, you will surely find a fresh incarnation. Perhaps you will even be taken back to Erekosë and be reunited with your Ermizhad. After all, it will be an act of faith even the gods cannot ignore. Perhaps it is what they are waiting for? To see how brave you are prepared to be. And to see how truly you love her. And with that I let go the reins of those massive birds and prepared to dive into the horrible and viscous ocean.

  But now the Knight in Black and Yellow stood upon the platform beside me and he had put a steel glove upon my shoulder. And in his other hand he bore the Blank Standard. And this time he lifted his visor so that I might see his face.

  That face was a memory of greatness. It displayed enormous and ancient wisdom. It was a face which had seen far more than I would wish to see in all my incarnations. The bone structure was ascetic and fine, the huge eyes penetrating and authoritative. His flesh was the colour of polished jet and his voice was deep, full of the power of approaching thunder.

  – It would not be bravery, Champion. It would be at best folly. You think you seek for something, but yours would be an act of someone merely wishing to escape torment. There are aspects of the Champion far less tolerable than your present one. And, besides, I can tell you that this particular ordeal will not last for very much longer. I would have come to you sooner, but I had business elsewhere.

  – With whom?

  – Oh, with you, of course. But that is a tale being told in some other world and perhaps in your future, for the Million Spheres roll through Time and Space at many differing speeds and where or when they intersect is frequently surprising, even to me. But I can assure you this is a poor time to be doing away with your life—or this body, even. I could not speak for the consequences, though I believe they would not be pleasant. A great and momentous adventure lies ahead of you. If you fulfill your duty as Champion in the most effective way, it could result in your partial release from this doom. It could produce a beginning and an ending of enormous import. Let them call you. Surely you have heard them?

  – I have distinguished nothing from the voices I have heard. It cannot be those warriors who call…

  – What they call for is release from their particular doom. No, these are others who call, as you have been called before. Have you heard no name? A name new to you?

  – I think not.

  – This means you should return to the Dark Ship. It is all I can think. I am deeply puzzled…

  – If you are puzzled, Sir Knight, then I am truly confounded! I have no wish to give myself up to that man and his ship. It increases my sense of impotence. Moreover, I remain in the same flesh. In this flesh, surely I cannot find Ermizhad. I must be either Erekosë or John Daker again.

  – Perhaps your new guise was not ready. The checks and balances involved in this are extremely delicate. But I do know you must somehow return to that ship…

  – Can you offer me no more than that? Can you offer me hope that if I do board the Dark Ship again I shall find my Ermizhad?

  – Forgive me, Sir Champion. The black giant’s hand remained on my shoulder. – I am not entirely omniscient. Who can be when the very structure of Time and Space is in flux?

  – What are you telling me?

  – I can tell you no more than I perceive myself. Let the ship take you, that is all I can say. Through this medium, I know, you will be transported to those who most require your help and whose help in turn could gain for you some form of release from your present torment. Also you will be united in such a way to promise further unity. This much I can sense…

  – But where shall I look for this ship?

  – If you are willing, the ship will come to you. It will find you, fear not. Then the Knight in Black and Yellow whistled suddenly and from out of the orange mist there now galloped a great stallion, its hoofs striking the water but not penetrating the surface. This beast the Knight in Black and Yellow mounted. Its coat was as black as his skin and I marvelled at how it could stand on tho
se waves without sinking an inch. Indeed, I was so astonished by this apparition that I forgot to ask the rider any further questions. I could only stand and watch as he raised the Blank Standard by way of salute to me then turned the battlehorse towards the clouds and rode rapidly away.

  I remained mystified, yet the Knight in Black and Yellow had brought me a form of hope and had stopped me from continuing in my madness. I would not kill myself, after all, though I did not relish a further passage aboard the Dark Ship, either. Instead, I thought, I would lie down upon my sea-sled while the herons bore me wherever they chose (perhaps back to the Scarlet Fjord, for they must soon reach the limit of their endurance, or perhaps they would come to perch upon the sled with me before continuing their journey out across the ocean. Sooner or later, I knew, they would turn homeward). I had wanted to ask the Knight’s name. Sometimes names brought with them reawakened memories, intimations of my future, incidents from my past.

  I slept and as I slept the dreams returned. I heard distant voices and I knew it was the warriors who chanted; the Warriors of the Edge. – Who are you? I begged. I was growing tired of my own questions. There were too many mysteries. But then the chanting of the warriors began to change in tone until at last I heard a single name: SHARADIM! SHARADIM!

  The word was meaningless to me. It was not my name, I knew. It had never been my name. Nor would it ever be my name. Was I the victim of some dreadful cosmic error?

  – SHARADIM! SHARADIM! THE DRAGON IS IN THE SWORD! SHARADIM! SHARADIM! COME TO US, WE BEG! SHARADIM! SHARADIM! THE DRAGON MUST BE RELEASED!

  – But I am not Sharadim. I spoke aloud. – I cannot help you.

  – PRINCESS SHARADIM, YOU MUST NOT REFUSE US!

  – I am neither a princess nor your Sharadim. I wait to be called, it is true. But it is another you need…

  Could there be another poor soul, I wondered, who was doomed as I was doomed? Were there many such as I?

  – A DRAGON FREED IS A RACE RELEASED! LET US REMAIN IN EXILE NO LONGER, SHARADIM! LISTEN, THE FIREDRAKE ROARS WITHIN THE BLADE. SHE, TOO, WOULD BE REUNITED WITH HER KING. SET US ALL FREE, SHARADIM! SET US ALL FREE! ONLY THOSE OF YOUR BLOOD MAY TAKE THE SWORD AND DO WHAT MUST BE DONE!

  This had a familiar ring to me, yet I knew in my bones I was not Sharadim. As John Daker would have thought, I was like a radio tuner receiving messages on the wrong band. And this was all the more ironic since I currently longed to be drawn from my body and into another, preferably into the body of Erekosë, reunited with his Ermizhad.

  Yet I could not dismiss them. The chanting grew louder and now I even thought I could see shadowy figures—female figures—forming a circle around me. But I was still on the sled. I could feel its uneven surface beneath my hands as I slept. Nonetheless the circle continued to move slowly around me, first clockwise, then anticlockwise. And this was an outer circle. The inner circle surrounding me was made of pale flame which almost blinded me.

  – I cannot come! I am not the one you seek! You must look elsewhere! I am needed in another place…

  – SET THE FIREDRAKE FREE! SET THE FIREDRAKE FREE! SHARADIM! SHARADIM! SET HER FREE, SHARADIM!

  – No! It is I whom you must free! Please believe me, whoever you are, that I am not whom you seek! Let me go! Let me go!

  – SHARADIM! SHARADIM! SET THE FIREDRAKE FREE!

  Their voices seemed almost as desperate as my own. But however much I called to them they could not hear me above their own chanting. I felt kinship with them. I would have spoken to them and tried to give them the little information I possessed, but my voice continued to be unheard.

  For all this, I seemed to recall an earlier conversation. Had I once been told about a dragon in a sword? Was it a conversation with the Knight in Black and Yellow? Or with Jermays the Crooked? Or had the Captain told me that I had been elected to seek such a blade and was that why I decided to leave his ship? I could not remember. All those dreams ran together, just as most of my earlier incarnations were frequently indistinguishable one from the other, rising unbidden to my mind, as débris will rise suddenly to the surface of a lake and sink again as mysteriously.

  Now a voice cried ELRIC! Now ASQUIOL! Another group chanted for Corum. Still others wanted Hawkmoon, Rashono, Malan’ni. I screamed for them to stop. None called for Erekosë. None called for me! Yet I knew I was all of these. All of these and many, many more.

  But I was not Sharadim.

  I began to run from those voices. I begged for release. All I wanted was Ermizhad. My feet sank a little into the saline crust of the ocean. I thought I would drown, after all, for I had left the sled. I was wading through water up to my thighs, holding my sword above my head. And before me, dark against the mist, was a tall ship with high castles fore and aft, with a good, thick central mast on which was furled a heavy sail, with woodwork all minutely carved and a massive, curving prow, with large wheels on both high decks, for steering. And I cried out:

  – Captain! Captain! It is I! It is Erekosë returned! I am here to complete my task. I will do what you wish me to do!

  – Aha, Sir Champion. I had hoped to find you here. Come aboard, come aboard and be welcome. There are no other passengers, as yet. There’s much for you to do, however…

  And I knew the Captain addressed me and that I had left the world of Rowernarc, the South Ice and the Scarlet Fjord, left them behind for ever. It would be assumed I had ridden out over the ocean and encountered a sea-stag or had drowned. I regretted only the character of my parting from Bladrak Morningspear, who had been a good comrade.

  – Will my voyage be a long one, Captain? I climbed the ladder which had been lowered for me and I realised that I was clad only in a simple kilt of soft leather, in sandals and with a wide baldrick across my chest. I looked into the eyes of the smiling captain, who reached out a muscular hand and helped me to clamber over the side. He was dressed in the same simple clothes as before, including his long calfskin sea-coat.

  – Nay, Sir Champion. I think you’ll find this particular part of it short enough. There is some business between Law and Chaos and the ambitions of the Archduke Balarizaaf, whoever he may be!

  – You do not know our destination? I followed him to his own small cabin under the quarter-deck where a meal had been laid out on his table for just the two of us. It smelled excellent. He gestured to me to sit across from him.

  He said: – I think it could be to the Maaschanheem. Do you know that realm?

  – I do not.

  – Then you’ll soon be familiar with it. But perhaps I should not speak. I can sometimes be an erratic compass. Still, destination’s the least of our problems. Eat, for you’ll soon be disembarking again. The food will sustain you in your task.

  He joined me at the meal. The food was wholesome and filling, but it was the wine which did me most good. Fiery stuff, it instilled in me purpose and energy. – Perhaps you can tell me something of this Maaschanheem, Captain?

  – It is a world not far removed from the one you knew as John Daker. Far closer, in fact, than any you’ve journeyed to so far. The people of Daker’s world who understand such things say it is one of the realms of their Middle Marches, for frequently their world intersects with it, though only certain adepts can pass from one place to the other. Yet that Earth is not truly part of the system to which Maaschanheem belongs. There are six realms within that system and they are called by those who inhabit them the Realms of the Wheel.

  – Six planets?

  – No, Sir Champion. Six realms. Six cosmic planes which move around a central hub, revolving independently and swinging upon an axis, presenting different facets to each other at different points in their movement while, at the same time, each also goes around a more familiar sun, such as the sun you are used to seeing in your own sky. John Daker’s sky. For the Million Spheres are all aspects of one planet, which Daker called Earth, just as you are a single aspect of an infinity of heroes. Some call this the multiverse, as you know already. Spheres within spheres, surface
sliding into surface, realm into realm, sometimes meeting and forming gateways one between the other. And sometimes they never meet. Then, of course, it is difficult to cross, unless you sail between the realms in a ship like ours.

  – You paint a gloomy picture, Sir Captain, for one like me who seeks an object in all this multiplicity of existences.

  – You should be joyful, Champion. Were it not for all this variety you could not live at all. If there were only one aspect of your Earth, one aspect of yourself, one aspect of Law and another of Chaos, it would have vanished almost as soon as it was created. The Million Spheres offer infinite variety and possibility.

  – Which Law would curtail?

  – Aye, or Chaos leave utterly unchecked. That is why you fight for the Cosmic Balance. To maintain a true equilibrium between the two so that Humanity might flourish and explore all its potential. You have a great responsibility, Sir Champion, in whatever guise you take.

  – And the guise I take next? Can it be that of a woman? Of a certain Princess Sharadim?

  The Captain shook his head. – I do not think so. You’ll discover your name soon enough. And if you are successful in this adventure you must promise to return to me when I come for you. Will you promise?

  – Why should I?

  – Because it is likely to be to your advantage, believe me.

  – And if I do not return to you?

  – I cannot say.

  – Then I shall not promise. I am of a mind to demand more specific answers to my questions at present, Sir Captain. All I can tell you is that it is very likely I shall seek out your ship again.

  – Seek us out? You have a better chance of finding Tanelorn unaided. The Captain seemed amused. – We are not sought. We find. He then became honestly concerned, shaking his head from side to side. He brought the conversation to a polite but abrupt end. – It is late now. You must sleep and restore yourself further.

  He led me to one of the large cabins at the aft of the ship. The place was fitted to take many more men than I, but I was alone in it. I picked myself a bunk, washed myself in the water provided and lay down to sleep. I reflected ironically that I could be sleeping within a dream, within a dream, within another dream. How many layers of reality did I currently perceive, let alone those of which the Captain had spoken?