The Stealer of Souls (46 page)

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

As they approached, Elric was soon in no doubt that they were, indeed, those ships. The Sign of Chaos flashed on their sails, eight amber arrows radiating from a central hub—signifying the boast of Chaos, that it contained all possibilities whereas Law was supposed, in time, to destroy possibility and result in eternal stagnation. The Sign of Law was a single arrow pointing upwards, symbolizing dynamic growth.

Elric knew that in reality Chaos was the harbinger of stagnation, for though it changed constantly, it never progressed. But, in his heart, he still felt a yearning for this state, for his past loyalties to the Lords of Chaos had suited him better to wild destruction than to stable progress.

But now Chaos must make war on Chaos; Elric must turn against those he had once been loyal to, using weapons formed by Chaotic forces to defeat those selfsame forces in these ironic times.

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

Dyvim Slorm was astounded. “But the fleet of the dead never comes to the surface—save for…” his eyes widened.

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

“Is this, then, to be the final battle?”

“It might be,” Elric answered. “It is certain to be one of the last when it will be decided for all time whether Law or Chaos shall rule here.”

“If we’re defeated, then Chaos will undoubtedly rule.”

“Perhaps, but remember that the struggle need not be decided by battles alone.”

“So Sepiriz said, but if we’re defeated this day, we’ll have little chance to discover the truth of that.” Dyvim Slorm gripped Mournblade’s hilt. “Someone must wield these blades—these destiny-swords—when the time comes for the deciding duel. Our allies diminish, Elric.”

“Aye. But I’ve a hope that we can summon a few others. Straasha, King of the Water Elementals, has ever fought against the death fleet—and he is brother to Graoll and Misha, the Wind Lords. Perhaps through Straasha, I can summon his unearthly kin. In this way we will be better 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 I’ll have no time for the summoning of spirits but will have to keep tight hold on my own less some Chaos creature releases it.”

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

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

“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,

Your salt is blood, our blood your salt,

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 vocalization 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, womblike constructions which were only partially in the natural sea and partially in the plane where the elementals spent a large part of their immortal existence.

Straasha knew of the Ships of Hell rising to the surface and had been pleased that his domain was now cleared of them, but Elric’s summons awakened his memory and he remembered the folk of Melniboné upon whom all the elementals had once looked with a sense of comradeship; he remembered the ancient invocation, and felt bound to answer it, though he knew his people were badly weakened by the effect Chaos had had in other parts of the world. Not only humans had suffered; the elemental spirits of nature had been sorely pressed as well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

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

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

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

Jagreen Lern’s new flagship now lay behind three rows of men-o’-war and behind the flagship were the Chaos ships.

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

Elric and his three companions directed their men from the main deck, standing so that between them they had an overall view of what was going on around them. Elric looked up suddenly, warned by some sixth sense, and saw streaking balls of green fire come curving out of the sky.

“Prepare to quench fires!” Kargan yelled and the group of men already primed for this leapt for the tubs containing a special brew which Elric had told them how to make earlier. This was spread on decks and splashed on canvas and, when the fireballs landed, they were swiftly quenched. “Don’t engage unless forced to,” Elric called to the seamen, “keep aiming for the flagship. If we take that, our advantage will be good!”

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

“They’ll come, never fear,” Elric answered, but he was unsure.

Now they were in the thick of the enemy fleet, the ships of their squadron following behind, their great oars slicing through the ocean’s foam. The war-engines of their own fleet sent up a constant barrage of fire and heavy stones. Only a few of Elric’s craft broke through the enemy’s first rank and reached the open sea, sailing towards Jagreen Lern’s flagship.

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

Shouting over the waters, Kargan ordered their diminished squadron into a new formation. Moonglum shook his head in astonishment. “How can things of that size support themselves on the water?” he said to Elric.

“It’s unlikely that they actually do.” As their ship manoeuvred into its new position, he stared at the huge craft, twenty of them, dwarfing everything else on the sea. They seemed covered with a kind of shining fluid 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. Wisps of dark stuff began to drift across the scene, close to the water, and Dyvim Slorm, from the lower deck, pointed and shouted: “See! Chaos comes! Where is Straasha and his folk?”

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

“We cannot wait. We must attack!” Kargan’s voice was pitched higher than usual.

A mood of bitter recklessness came upon Elric, as he gripped the rigging to steady himself on the swaying deck, then he smiled. “Come then. Let’s do so!”

Speedily the squadron coursed towards the disturbing ships of death. Moonglum muttered: “We are going to our doom, Elric. No man would willingly get close to those ships. Only the dead are drawn to them, and they do not go with joy!”

But Elric ignored his friend.

A strange silence descended over the waters and the rhythmic 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 responded to the pounding of his pulse-beat, moving in his hand with each thud of his heart, as if linked to it by veins and arteries. Now they were so close to the Chaos ships that they could make out better the figures crowding the great decks. Horribly, Elric thought he recognized some of the gaunt faces of the dead and, involuntarily, he called to the sea-folk’s king.

“
Straasha!
”

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

“
Straasha!
”

It was no good, the waters hardly moved.

In his wild despair Elric screamed to Kargan: “We cannot wait for aid. Swing the ship round the Chaos fleet and we’ll attempt to reach Jagreen Lern’s flagship from the rear!”

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

To his ears came the miserable cries of the defeated and the triumphantly surging thunder of the Chaos fleet’s music as it pushed forward to destroy the Eastern ships.
Timber-tearer
was rocking badly and was hard to control, but at last they were around the hell fleet and bearing down on Jagreen Lern’s vessel from behind.

Now they nearly struck the Theocrat’s vessel with their ram, but were swept off-course and had to manoeuvre again. Arrows rose from the enemy’s decks and thudded and rattled on their own. They retaliated as, riding a huge wave, they slid alongside the flagship and flung out grappling irons. A few held, dragging them towards the Theocrat’s vessel as the men of Pan Tang strove to cut the grappling ropes. More ropes followed and then a boarding platform fell from its harness and landed squarely on Jagreen Lern’s deck. Another followed it. Elric ran for the nearest platform, Kargan behind him, and they led a body of warriors over it, searching for Jagreen Lern. Stormbringer took a dozen lives and a dozen souls before Elric had gained the main deck. There a resplendent commander stood, surrounded by a group of officers. But he was not Jagreen Lern. Elric clambered up the gangway, slicing through a warrior’s waist as the man sought to block his path. He yelled at the group: “Where’s your cursed leader? Where’s Jagreen Lern!”