Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [143]
ELRIK: “I don’t understand …”
ELEMENTAL: “You are not asked to understand. You must make the journey back towards Melniboné. There you will find the rest of your destiny and the Black Sword. When you hold the sword, a word we have placed in your mind will summon us. If you need our help, you’ll receive it…”
The flame elemental begins to fade back into the common fire. Elrik turns to Sepiriz—
ELRIK: “My destiny? The Black Sword? I want only to be a good and wise ruler of Melniboné …”
Sepiriz turns away, half smiling, half in grief.
SEPIRIZ: “That will become a matter of opinion, King Elrik …”
They are back in Sepiriz’s chamber. Elrik looks a bit scared and distinctly puzzled.
ELRIK: “I did not ask you to make me a servant of the Balance, Lord Sepiriz!”
SEPIRIZ: “None of us asks that, young king. It is fate which selects us, in spite of our wishes.”
He raises an arm to show Elrik out of the chamber.
They return to Sepiriz’s quarters.
ELRIK: “How am I supposed to seize a sword from a Chaos Lord?”
SEPIRIZ: “You must take it from the one Arioch has given it to. Come. I’ll set you on your way home.”
Sepiriz drives his great chariot. He and Elrik occupy the chariot, which goes at a great pace, not quite touching the ground. Tethered to it is a great Nihrainian stallion, the match of the horse which pulls the chariot.
ELRIK: “Tell me, Lord Sepiriz. To whom did Arioch give the Black Sword?”
SEPIRIZ: “The one who even now brings the power of your kingdom against the new tribes.”
Elrik is astonished as Sepiriz drags on the reins to bring the chariot to a halt.
ELRIK: “What??”
Sepiriz hands the reins of the stallion to Elrik who stands bewildered beside the chariot now.
SEPIRIZ: “Go home. You’ll discover what I mean. I can tell you no more.” Elrik, still baffled, mounts the stallion. Sepiriz looks at him in sympathy and sadness.
SEPIRIZ: “Farewell, Elrik. Forgive me. I do not envy you your destiny…”
CHAPTER THREE
Changing Destinies
Back through the lands of the new tribes rode King Elrik, his mind heavy with questions, his heart full of uncertainty …
People in the fields look up in surprise as the haunted figure rides past on the great black Nihrain steed. He is a driven creature, his red eyes blazing as he stares ahead of him.
PEASANT: “Greetings, master—where dost thou—? Miggea! He rides as if hell’s horde pursues him!”
Elrik reins in his horse as he comes upon the town where he spoke to the Wise Woman. The place has been burned to the ground.
The Wise Woman, wounded and half-burned herself, comes hobbling out of cover to confront him.
WISE WOMAN: “You! You’re the Melnibonéan! May you and your kind be cursed for ten thousand years!”
ELRIK: “Believe me, mother, I know nothing of what you speak!”
WISE WOMAN: “You lie! You came scouting here all those years ago. Your aim was to discover our defenses. Then your war-dogs and their flying allies came upon us, taking all we owned! Kill me, if you will, whiteface. I have nothing left to love and no loved one left to mourn me!”
Elrik rode on while the old woman hurled curses at his back. He is deeply troubled.
ELRIK (thinks): “How can Melnibonéans have done this? My gentle sister would never have permitted it.”
The hills above Pukwadji Port, where the young king first came ashore so many years before …
Elrik reins in the great Nihrain horse in the hills above the port town where he came ashore on [page eight]. The whole place has been razed to the ground. All are dead.
He is even more horrified. On these ruins squat the weary dragons of Imrryr, the Phoorn. They look sleepy, sated. A little venom drips from the mouths of one or two of them. From gibbets hang the bodies of Pukwadji men and women. In the harbour are golden Melnibonéan barges onto which Melnibonéan soldiers are loading their loot.