Duke Elric - Michael Moorcock [73]
Also, it was not possible to locate the original script for part five, so dialogue for that has been taken directly from the comic issue and descriptions similar to those in the other eleven parts have been added for what is going on around it.
The final part overlaps with Simonson's “Moonbeams and Roses,” and was mainly drawn by him. It therefore takes a rather marked stylistic shift, incorporating (or referring to) some characters and events that might not have appeared in the rest of “Duke Elric.”
PART ONE
EXILE FROM ALBION
ATHOUSAND YEARS ago. The disastrous reign of Ethelred the Unready. England's bravest warrior is suddenly exiled—expelled as an atheist sorcerer accused of unnatural relations with his own sister. Most at court agree, however, it's Duke Elric's realistic and aggressive policy to the invading Danes which set his devious king against him—confiscating Elric's rich western lands, stripping him of honours and leaving him with only his ancestral title—Duke of the Middlemarch …
With bitter cynicism Elric Sadricson glances briefly back at the land his people loved and served for millennia. Ahead lies a Europe still struggling from centuries of brutal ignorance …
It's raining. On board a beautiful Saxon ship, the rich figurehead prominently featured, Duke Elric, the long-haired albino son of an ancient line who some say is a changeling or even a halfling, turns brooding, intelligent crimson eyes towards Frankland across the sea. Elric himself is a picture of the tenth-century Anglo-Saxon dandy from the shine of his circlet to the jeweled hilt of his sword and the softness of his doeskin boots. But, for all his almost feminine beauty, he has the stance, muscles and responses of a man of action. For years he has commanded English legions against the Danes. They say his ancestors fought against the Romans and the Saxons before bringing their own powerful western fiefdom into King Alfred's kingdom. Their ancient castle on Michael's Mount has been in their family since the time of the Picts.
ELRIC: “Let the Danes conquer England. The squabbling English deserve to lose her. As for me—this ‘exile’ permits me to pursue a long-postponed quest…I'll not be diverted again. I've loyalty only to myself!”
Elric rides away from the run-down Roman/Gaulish quay where the ship has berthed. The predominantly wooden towns only a few rows deep. Beyond it are fields and beyond that dense woods. It is raining and windy and Elric's heavy woolen cloak is whipped about him. He's an object of curiosity to the rabble of Franks, Gauls and down-at-heel Normans who hang around the port.
The weathers still foul. Elric is riding through deep Dark Age woods and comes to a clearing with a rocky, moated mound in the centre of it. On this is built a Romanesque fortified monastery. The monastery of St. Obyn. A monk spots him and rings the monastery's horrible bell.
The interior of the monastery. Massive stones. A great stone cross, clearly centuries old and of Celtic origin, is propped against the wall. There are books and vellums here and there, as well as a writing stand. Brother Constant, a wise and kindly monk in his early thirties, holds a great iron key in his hand. Elric reaches for it impatiently. He and the monk are old friends. The monk is concerned for Elric's soul as well as his body.
CONSTANT: “YOU said you'd never need the sword again. My potions were enough to sustain you …”
ELRIC: “I was wrong, old friend. Your strongest potion would be too weak for the task ahead. It must be the sword—”
Deep in the bowels of the monastery, the monk opens a door. There on the wall, sending out a strange black radiance, is a sheathed Stormbringer, the runecarved black blade of legend. Behind the sword is a round shield. It appears to bear a Celtic cross, but this cross is in fact the eight-arrowed symbol of Chaos, intricately worked into the Celtic patterns. Hanging by a thong is an ancient war-horn, also Celtic in origin.
CONSTANT: “Locked