Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [24]
“I am glad to make your acquaintance.” Elric waited for the man to speak further.
Manag Iss waved a long, brown hand whose nails had been removed and replaced with the same tattoos as those on his mouth. “Would you dismount and talk, for we come with messages and the offer of gifts.”
Elric slipped Stormbringer back into the scabbard and swung his leg over his saddle, sliding to the dust of the Red Road. He watched as the beetles lurched slowly away, perhaps in search of more man-rats, their smoking backs reminding him of the fires of the leper camps on the outskirts of Jadmar.
“My kinswoman wishes you to know that she, as well as the Yellow Sect, are all at your service, Master Elric. We are prepared to give you whatever aid you require in seeking out the Pearl at the Heart of the World.”
Now Elric felt a certain amusement. “I fear you have me at a disadvantage, Sir Manag Iss. Do you journey in quest of treasure?”
Manag Iss let an expression of mild impatience cross his strange face. “It is known that your patron Lord Gho Fhaazi has promised the Pearl at the Heart of the World to the Nameless Seventh and she, in turn, has promised him the new place on the Council in return. We have discovered enough to know that only an exceptional thief could have been commissioned to this task. And Nadsokor is famous for her exceptional thieves. It is a task which, I am sure you know, all Sorcerer Adventurers have failed in completing. For centuries members of every sect have tried to find the Pearl at the Heart of the World, whenever the Blood Moon rises. Those few who ever survived to return to Quarzhasaat were raving mad and died soon after. Only recently have we received some little knowledge and evidence that the Pearl does actually exist. We know, therefore, that you are a dreamthief, though you disguise your profession by not carrying your hooked staff, for we do know that only a dreamthief of the greatest skill could reach the Pearl and bring it back.”
“You tell me more than I knew, Manag Iss,” said Elric seriously. “And it is true that I am commissioned by Lord Gho Fhaazi. But know you this also—I go upon this journey reluctantly.” And Elric trusted his instincts enough to reveal to Manag Iss the hold that Lord Gho had over him.
Manag Iss plainly believed him. His tattooed fingertips brushed lightly over the tattoos of his lips as he considered this information. “That elixir is well-known to the Sorcerer Adventurers. We have distilled it for millennia. It is true that it feeds the very substance of the user back to him. The antidote is much harder to prepare. I am surprised that Lord Gho claims to possess it. Only certain sects of the Sorcerer Adventurers own small quantities. If you would return with us to Quarzhasaat we shall, I know, be able to administer the antidote to you within a day at the most.”
Elric considered this carefully. Manag Iss was employed by one of Lord Gho’s rivals. This made him suspicious of any offer, no matter how generous it seemed. Councilor Iss, or the Lady Iss, or whoever it was desired to place their own candidate upon the Council, would no doubt be prepared to stop at nothing to achieve that end. For all Elric knew, Manag Iss’s offer might merely be a means of lulling him out of his wariness so that he might be the more easily murdered.
“You’ll forgive me if I am blunt,” said the albino, “but I have no means of trusting you, Manag Iss. I know already that Quarzhasaat is a city whose chief sport is intrigue and I have no wish to be involved in that game of plots and counterplots which your fellow citizens seem to enjoy so thoroughly. If the antidote to the elixir exists, as you say, I would be better disposed to consider your claims if, for instance, you were to meet me at the Silver Flower Oasis in, say, six days from today. I have enough elixir to last me three weeks, which is the time of the Blood Moon plus the time