Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [74]
“My lady, we do not,” said Oone with great sincerity. Still, her voice was gentle. Elric was mystified by her manner but accepted that she had a clear notion of their situation.
“What does this mean?” Elric murmured as Lady Sough descended towards the boat.
“I think it means we are close to the Fortress of the Pearl,” said Oone. “She tried to help us but is not altogether sure how best to do it.”
“You trust her?”
“If we trust ourselves, we can trust her I think. We must know what are the right questions to ask her.”
“I’ll trust you, Oone, to trust her.” Elric smiled.
At Lady Sough’s insistent beckoning they clambered into the beautiful boat which rocked only slightly on the dark waters of what seemed to Elric an entirely artificial canal, straight and deep, moving in a sweeping curve until it disappeared from sight a mile or two from them. He peered upwards, still not sure if he looked upon a strange sky or the roof of the largest cavern of all. He could just see the stairs stretching away in the distance and wondered again what had happened to the inhabitants when they had fled at the Pearl Warrior’s attack.
Lady Sough took the great tiller of the boat. With a single movement she guided the craft into the centre of the waterway. Almost at once the ground leveled out so that it was possible to see the grey desert on all sides, while ahead was foliage, greenery, the suggestion of hills. There was a quality about the light which reminded Elric of a September evening. He could almost smell the early autumn roses, the turning trees, the orchards of Imrryr. Seated near the front of the boat with Oone beside him, leaning on his shoulder, he sighed with pleasure, enjoying the moment. “If the rest of our quest is to be conducted in such a way, I shall be glad to accompany you on many such adventures, Lady Oone.”
She, too, was in good humour. “Aye. Then all the world would desire to be dreamthieves.”
The boat rounded a bend of the canal and they were alerted by figures standing on both banks. These sad, silent people, dressed in white and yellow, regarded the sailing barge with tear-filled eyes, as if they witnessed a funeral. Elric was sure they did not weep for himself or Oone. He called out to them, but they did not seem to hear him. They were gone almost at once and they passed by gently rising terraces, cultivated for vines and figs and almonds. The air was sweet with ripening harvests and once a small, foxlike creature ran along beside them for a while before veering off into a clump of shrubs. A little later naked, brown-skinned men prowled on all fours until they, too, grew bored and disappeared into the undergrowth. The canal began to twist more and more and Lady Sough was forced to throw all her weight upon the tiller to keep the boat on course.
“Why should a canal be built so?” Elric asked her when they were once more upon a straight stretch of water.
“What was above us is now ahead and what was below is now behind,” she replied. “That is the nature of this. I am the navigator and I know. But ahead, where it grows darker, the river is unbending. This is made to help understanding, I think.”
Her words were almost as confusing as the Pearl Warrior’s and Elric tried to make sense by asking her further questions. “The river helps us understand what, Lady Sough?”
“Their nature—her nature—what you must encounter—ah, look!”
The river was widening rapidly into a lake. There were reeds growing on the banks now, silver herons flying against the soft sky.
“It is no great distance to the island I spoke of,” said Lady Sough. “I fear for you.”
“No,” said Oone with determined kindness. “Take the boat across the lake towards the Falador Gate. I thank you.”
“This thanks is …” Lady Sough shook her head. “I would not have you die.”
“We shall not. We are here to save her.”
“She is afraid.”
“We know.”
“Those others