Duke Elric - Michael Moorcock [12]
“The Four? Who are they?”
Erekose laughed. “You and I are two of them. The other two occupy the aft cabin. And if you wish to know why we are called the Four, you must ask the captain, though I warn you his answers are rarely satisfying.”
Elric realized that he was being pressed slightly to one side. “The ship makes good speed,” he said laconically, “considering how poor the wind was.”
“Excellent speed,” agreed Erekose. He rose from his corner, a broad-shouldered man with an ageless face bearing the evidence of considerable experience. He was handsome and he had plainly seen much conflict, for both his hands and his face were heavily scarred, though not disfigured. His eyes, though deep-set and dark, seemed of no particular colour and yet were familiar to Elric. He felt that he might have seen those eyes in a dream once.
“Have we met before?” Elric asked him.
“Oh, possibly—or shall meet. What does it matter? Our fates are the same. We share an identical doom. And possibly we share more than that.”
“More? I hardly comprehend the first part of your statement.”
“Then it is for the best,” said Erekose, inching past his comrades and emerging on the other side of the table. He laid a surprisingly gentle hand on Elric's shoulder. “Come, we must seek audience with the captain. He expressed a wish to see you shortly after you came aboard.”
Elric nodded and rose. “This captain—what is his name?”
“He has none he will reveal to us,” said Erekose. Together they emerged onto the deck. The mist was if anything thicker and of the same deathly whiteness, no longer tinted by the sun's rays. It was hard to see to the far ends of the ship and for all that they were evidently moving rapidly, there was no hint of a wind. Yet it was warmer than Elric might have expected. He followed Erekose forward to the cabin set under the deck on which one of the ship's twin wheels stood, tended by a tall man in sea-coat and leggings of quilted deerskin who was so still as to resemble a statue. The red-haired steersman did not look around or down as they advanced towards the cabin, but Elric caught a glimpse of his face.
The door seemed built of some kind of smooth metal possessing a sheen almost like the healthy coat of an animal. It was reddish-brown and the most colourful thing Elric had so far seen on the ship. Erekose knocked softly upon the door. “Captain,” he said. “Elric is here.”
“Enter,” said a voice at once melodious and distant.
The door opened. Rosy light flooded out, half-blinding Elric as he walked in. As his eyes adapted, he could see a very tall, pale-clad man standing upon a richly hued carpet in the middle of the cabin. Elric heard the door close and realized that Erekose had not accompanied him inside.
“Are you refreshed, Elric?” said the captain.
“I am, sir, thanks to your wine.”
The captain's features were no more human than were Elric's. They were at once finer and more powerful than those of the Melnibonean, yet bore a slight resemblance in that the eyes were inclined to taper, as did the face, toward the chin. The captain's long hair fell to his shoulders in red-gold waves and was kept back from his brow by a circlet of blue jade. His body was clad in buff-coloured tunic and hose and there were sandals of silver and silver-thread laced to his calves. Apart from his clothing, he was twin to the steersman Elric had recently seen.
“Will you have more wine?”
The captain moved towards a chest on the far side of the cabin, near the porthole, which was closed.
“Thank you,” said Elric. And now he realized why the eyes had not focused on him. The captain was blind. For all that his movements were deft and assured, it was obvious that he could not see at all. He poured the wine from a silver jug into a silver cup and began to cross towards Elric, holding the cup out before him. Elric stepped forward and accepted it.
“I am grateful for your decision to join us,” said the captain. “I am much relieved, sir.”
“You are courteous,” said Elric,