Stormbringer es-6 Read online

  Elric lowered himself to the roof and began to edge down it until he came to the gap through which he had passed earlier.

  Then suddenly he looked up as he heard a noise in the sky. There, his feet planted on air, stood grinning Jermays the Crooked. «I’ll be passing on, for I like not this world 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.»

  Elric said: «Perhaps you'd best be content with your lot, Jermays. There are disadvantages to stability, too.»

  Jermays shrugged and vanished.

  Slowly, all but spent, Elric descended the fractured wall and, with great relief, reached the first stair to stumble down the rest and run back to the tower of D'a'rputna 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 Elric’s neck. He was dressed in black leather, with his head unprotected save for a golden circlet not kept his hair from his eyes. Stormbringer 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 Flamefang the Dragon Leader. His lungs seemed to have insufficient capacity as he drew air into them and grasped the horn. Then he glanced at his friends, who regarded him expectantly, straddled his legs slightly and blew with all his strength into the horn.

  The note sounded, deep and sonorous, and as it reverberated through the caverns, he felt all his vitality draining from him. Weaker and weaker he became until he sank to his knees, the horn still at his lips, the note failing, his vision dimming, his limbs shaking, and then he sprawled face down on the rock, the horn 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: «Flamefang! Brother Flamefang, you wake! »

  All about him he saw the other dragons stirring also, shaking their wings and straightening their slender necks, ruffling their horny crests. Moonglum felt smaller than usual as the dragons wakened. He began to feel nervous of the 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 Elric, touching his leathern-covered shoulder.

  «Elric! D'you live?»

  Elric groaned and tried to turn over onto his back. Moonglum helped him sit upright

  «I’m weak, Moonglum - so weak I can't rise. The horn took all my energy! »

  «Draw your sword-it will supply what you need.»

  Elric 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 rustled 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 effort.

  In earlier times there had been slaves to saddle the dragons but now they would have to saddle their beasts themselves. They went to the saddle-store and chose the saddles they needed, for each saddle was designed for an individual beast. Elric could scarcely bear the weight of Flamefang’s elaborately carved saddle of wood, steel, jewels and precious metals. He was forced to drag it across the cavern floor. Not wishing to embarrass him with their glances, the other two ignored his 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 Elric 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?»

  Elric sighed. «Aye-enough, I think, for that. But I know I’ll 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.»

  Leaving Moonglum to finish Flamefang's saddling, Dyvim Slorm went away to return with a cup of liquid which he hoped would help revivify Elric. Elric 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, I'll likely fall to the ground before we've flown a mile.»

  So he sat in the tall saddle and gripped the goad which bore his blue, green and silver pennant, gripped it in his 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 Moonglum, their faces grimly concerned, watchful for Elric's safety. As Flamefang moved with rolling gait through the series of caverns, its fellow 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, Elric lapped at Flamefang's neck with his goad.

  «Up, Flamefang! Up for Melnibone and vengeance! »

  As if sensing the strangeness of the world, Flamefang paused on the brink of the ledge, shaking his head and snorting 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 the swollen sun, up into the hot, turbulent air, up towards the East where the camps of hell were waiting. 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 million drums as they flew over the unclean waters with gaping jaws and cold, cold eyes.

  Though beneath him now Elric saw with blurring eyes many colours of immense richness, they were all dark and changing constantly, shifting from one extreme of a dark, spectrum to the other. It was not water down there now - it was a fluid comprised of materials both natural and supernatural, real and abstract. Pain, longing, misery and laughter could be seen as tangible fragments of the tossing tide, passions and frustrations lay in it also, as well as stuff made of living flesh that bubbled on occasions to the surface.

  In his weakened condition, the sight of the fluid sickened Elric 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 had once been the mainland of the Eastern Continent, the 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 were 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 the occasional 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 world 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.

  Elric knew that Jagreen Lern 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 world. 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 Chaos. All the dark powers of Chaos lay upon the world, yet deeper and deeper into its heart went the dragon flight, with Elric 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 components forced into alien forms.

  Onward they sped, towards what had once been Karlaak 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. Elric had not even strength to cry out, but weakly tapped Flamefang's neck and made the beast veer away from the danger. Moonglum and Dyvim Slorm followed his example and Dyvim Slorm sounded his horn, ordering the dragons not to engage the attackers, but some of the dragons in the rear were too late and were forced to turn and battle with the black phantoms.

  Elric 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 the dragons that shot their flaming venom at them and tore at them 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 Elric signalled Flamefang 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 encrusted lance. Down they went and loosed their venom, having the satisfaction of seeing the beasts and riders scream, burn 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 Lern, perhaps as the keeps of the Captains of Chaos who, now that Chaos ruled, were establishing themselves on earth. They swept down on them, released their venom and left them burning with unnatural fires, the gouting smoke blending with the shredding mist. And at last Elric 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 he would not have the strength to meet his enemy Jagreen Lern in combat. What could he do? How could strength he 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 Elric, before 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, Elric? I had not expected a city to be here so soon! »

  «Neither had! 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?»

  «True, » 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 he held it warily before him.

  Then he acted on impulse and goaded Flamefang into speed so that the dragon rushed towards the city, diving down towards the castle of Jagreen Lern.

  Nothing sought to stop him and he landed the beast among the turrets of the castle. Silence was dominant.t He looked around, puzzled, but could see nothing save the towering buildings of dark stone that seemed to ooze beneath Flamefang's feet.

  The straps stopped him from dismounting, but he saw enough to be sure the city was deserted. Where was the horde of hell? Where was Jagreen Lern?

  Dyvim Storm and Moonglum came to join him, while the rest of the dragons circled above. Claws 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, the dragons preferred the air to the land.

  Dyvim Slorm stayed but long enough to mutter: «I'll 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 yell, but they could not see what caused it, a pause, and then Dyvim Slorm's dragon was flapping 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 misshapen and ugly vim a jutting underlip, 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 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 Elric. «Jagreen Lern sent greetings and said he anticipated your foolish downfall.»

  Elric 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 Elric with pain in his eyes.

  «I acted in haste-I should have given him to you.»

  Elric said nothing to his but whispered in his failing voice:

  «Let's to their battlefield. Hurry! »

  Up to join their flight they went again, into the rushing, populated air and towards the north-east

  It was with astonishment that they sighted Jagreen Lern's horde, for they could not understand how it could have managed 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 the 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 the 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 Elric noted the three mightiest Lords of Chaos, dwarfing the rest. Chardros the Reaper with his great head and his curving scythe, Mabelode the Faceless with his face always in shadow no matter which way you looked at it, and Slortar the Old, slim and beautiful, reputed the oldest of the gods. This was a force which a thousand powerful sorcerers would find it bard to defend against, and the thought of attacking them seemed folly.

  Elric 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, he 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 the dragons' venom lasted.

  When it gave out, they must go in closer. At that moment Elric would need much energy-and he had none. Down swept the dragons, shooting their incendiary venom in
to 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 enemies, Brie swaying almost unconscious in his saddle, his awareness of what was going on diminishing with every attack.

  His dimming vision was further encumbered by the stinking smoke not 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 the dragons so that the beasts hit bellowed and hurtled dead to the ground. Closer and closer, Elric's steed bore him until he was flying over the division commanded by Jagreen Lern himself. He caught a misty glimpse of the Theocrat sitting a repulsive, hairless horse and waving his sword, convulsed with mocking mirth. He faintly heard his enemy's voice drift up to him.

  «Farewell. Brie-this is our last encounter, for today you go to limbo! »

  Brie turned Flamefang about and whispered into his ear: «That one, brother-that one! »

  With a roar, Flamefang loosed his venom at the laughing Theocrat. It seemed to Elric 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.