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By Root 446 0

’s gift. From the gates of the city wall slaves were bearing provisions and arms and carrying them up the gangways. Meanwhile Dyvim Tvar was assembling the Imrryrian warriors and assigning them their ranks and duties while on the expedition. There were not many warriors. Only half the available strength could come with the ship, for the other half must remain behind under the command of Admiral Magum Colim and protect the city. It was unlikely that there would be any large attack on Melniboné after the punishment meted out to the barbarian fleet, but it was wise to take precautions, particularly since Prince Yyrkoon had vowed to conquer Imrryr. Also, for some strange reason that none of the onlookers could divine, Dyvim Tvar had called for volunteers—veterans who shared a common disability—and made up a special detachment of these men who, so the onlookers thought, could be of no use at all on the expedition. Still, neither were they of use when it came to defending the city, so they might as well go. These veterans were led aboard first.

Last to climb the gangway was Elric himself. He walked slowly, heavily, a proud figure in his black armour, until he reached the deck. Then he turned, saluted his city, and ordered the gangplank raised.

Dyvim Tvar was waiting for him on the poop deck. The Lord of the Dragon Caves had stripped off one of his gauntlets and was running his naked hand over the oddly coloured wood of the rail. “This is not a ship made for war, Elric,” he said. “I should not like to see it harmed.”

“How can it be harmed?” Elric asked lightly as Imrryrians began to climb the rigging and adjust the sails. “Would Straasha let it be destroyed? Would Grome? Fear not for the Ship Which Sails Over Land and Sea, Dyvim Tvar. Fear only for our own safety and the success of our expedition. Now, let us consult the charts. Remembering Straasha’s warning concerning his brother Grome, I suggest we travel by sea for as far as possible, calling in here . . .” he pointed to a sea-port on the western coast of Lormyr—“to get our bearings and learn what we can of the lands of Oin and Yu and how those lands are defended.”

“Few travelers have ever ventured beyond Lormyr. It is said that the edge of the world lies not far from that country’s most southerly borders.” Dyvim Tvar frowned. “Could not this whole mission be a trap, I wonder? Arioch’s trap? What if he is in league with Prince Yyrkoon and we have been completely deceived into embarking upon an expedition which will destroy us?”

“I have considered that,” said Elric. “But there is no other choice. We must trust Arioch.”

“I suppose we must.” Dyvim Tvar smiled ironically. “Another matter now occurs to me. How does the ship move? I saw no anchors we could raise and there are no tides that I know of that sweep across the land. The wind fills the sails—see.” It was true. The sails were billowing and the masts creaked slightly as they took the strain.

Elric shrugged and spread his hands. “I suppose we must tell the ship,” he suggested. “Ship—we are ready to sail.”

Elric took some pleasure in Dyvim Tvar’s expression of astonishment as, with a lurch, the ship began to move. It sailed smoothly, as over a calm sea, and Dyvim Tvar instinctively clutched the rail, shouting: “But we are heading directly for the city wall!”

Elric crossed quickly to the centre of the poop deck where a large lever lay, horizontally attached to a ratchet which in turn was attached to a spindle. This was almost certainly the steering gear. Elric grasped the lever as one might grasp an oar and pushed it round a notch or two. Immediately the ship responded—and turned towards another part of the wall! Elric hauled back on the lever and the ship leaned, protesting a little as she yawed around and began to head out across the island. Elric laughed in delight. “You see, Dyvim Tvar, it is easy. A slight effort of logic was all it took!”

“Nonetheless,” said Dyvim Tvar suspiciously, “I’d rather we rode dragons. At least they are beasts and may be understood. But this sorcery, it troubles me.”

“Those are not fitting