Elric Swords and Roses - Michael Moorcock [99]
“We were prepared for nothing but death,” said Princess Shanug’a, “until this moment. I wonder what has brought us together now? And why should it bring us together at this moment? Do you have a hint of that, Master Phatt? Are we all moved by the hand of some manipulative Destiny?”
“It can only be the Balance,” said Fallogard Phatt with nodding certainty.
But Elric said nothing. He knew that Stormbringer did not serve the Balance, and, were it not for the runesword, he would not now be here—ready to help the sisters. But did the sword know what they required of it?
Then, suddenly, Elric was struck by a terrifying thought. What if he had already served the sword’s purpose so that Stormbringer no longer had use of the symbiosis on which the albino had come to rely? While this notion filled him with panic, he also loathed himself for his dependency upon the blade. He unhooked its scabbard from his belt and, volunteering what he had earlier refused Gaynor, offered it to the sisters.
“Here is the sword you sought, my kinswomen.” He offered it without question, either in expression or gesture, without hesitation or any sign of reluctance. Honour required nothing else.
Princess Tayaratuka stepped forward and, bowing, received the sword in both her little hands. Her muscles flexed with the blade’s weight, but she did not flinch. She was considerably stronger than she appeared to be.
“We have our Rune,” she said. “We have always had it. Since our people first came here and made this world their own. Even when the dragons left, we were not afraid, for we had our Rune. The Rune of Final Resort, it was called by some. But we had no sword. For the Rune of Final Resort must be spoken in conjunction with a ritual and a certain object. First it is required that the Black Sword be present: then he who wields the Sword must join us in the rune-calling. Then we must know the names of certain entities which must be summoned. All these things must come together at the same time. This is the pattern we must make, to mirror that which already exists and so create a duality which, in turn, releases the raw life-force of the multiverse. And only then, if we are accurate in our delicate weaving, will we revive the allies we seek against Chaos—the power to drive Mashabak and Gaynor and all their minions from our realm! If we are successful in this, Prince Elric, we are prepared to offer you one of three reclaimed treasures …” She glanced towards the Rose, but Wheldrake was quoting excitedly—
“The first of these treasures of Radinglay,
Was a rosewood box with roses ’graved,
While the second was that maiden’s dower,
A fresh-pick’d summer rose in flower.
The third of these treasures were briar rings three,
To make fast the Kind of the Cold Country.”
“Exactly,” said Princess Mishiguya with something of a lifted eyebrow, as if she had scarcely expected her tale to be the subject of a minstrel’s repertoire.
“He has,” said Charion Phatt by way of apology for her near-betrothed, “something of a memory for verse …”
“Especially,” said Wheldrake, bridling at what he interpreted as snobbery, “my own! Disapprove, if you like. I’m adrift in my own rhymes and rhythms.” And he mumbled another stanza or two to himself.
Princess Mishiguya was gracious. The Rose also came to the poet’s defense. “Without Master Wheldrake’s cadences and remembered names we should even now be separated,” she said. “His talents have proved of subtle usefulness to us all.”
“Should we succeed,” said Elric, replying, “I would accept your promise of a gift. For, I must admit, my own fate is somewhat bound up with one of those Objects of Power you have carried so long …”
“Not knowing which of the