Elric_ The Sleeping Sorceress - Michael Moorcock [108]
CHAPTER SEVEN
King Grome
But at last, with the land tugging at their keel, they reached the sea, sliding into the water and gathering speed with every moment, until Melniboné was gone behind them and they were sighting the thick clouds of steam which hung for ever over the Boiling Sea. Elric thought it unwise to risk even this magic vessel in those peculiar waters, so the vessel was turned and headed for the coast of Lormyr, sweetest and most tranquil of the Young Kingdom nations, and the port of Ramasaz on Lormyr’s western shore. If the southern barbarians with whom they had so recently fought had been from Lormyr, Elric would have considered making for some other port, but the barbarians had almost certainly been from the south-east on the far side of the continent, beyond Pikarayd. The Lormyrians, under their fat, cautious King Fadan, were not likely to join a raid unless its success was completely assured. Sailing slowly into Ramasaz, Elric gave instructions that their ship be moored in a conventional way and treated like any ordinary ship. It attracted attention, nonetheless, for its beauty, and the inhabitants of the port were astonished to find Melnibonéans crewing the vessel. Though Melnibonéans were disliked throughout the Young Kingdoms, they were also feared. Thus, outwardly at any rate, Elric and his men were treated with respect and were served reasonably good food and wine in the hostelries they entered.
In the largest of the waterfront inns, a place called Heading Outward and Coming Safely Home Again, Elric found a garrulous host who had, until he bought the inn, been a prosperous fisherman and who knew the southernmost shores reasonably well. He certainly knew the lands of Oin and Yu, but he had no respect for them at all.
“You think they could be massing for war, my lord.” He raised his eyebrows at Elric before hiding his face in his wine-mug. Wiping his lips, he shook his red head. “Then they must war against sparrows. Oin and Yu are barely nations at all. Their only halfway decent city is Dhoz-Kam—and that is shared between them, half being on one side of the River Ar and half being on the other. As for the rest of Oin and Yu—it is inhabited by peasants who are for the most part so ill-educated and superstition-ridden that they are poverty stricken. Not a potential soldier among ’em.”
“You’ve heard nothing of a Melnibonéan renegade who has conquered Oin and Yu and set about training these peasants to make war?” Dyvim Tvar leaned on the bar next to Elric. He sipped fastidiously from a thick cup of wine. “Prince Yyrkoon is the renegade’s name.”
“Is that whom you seek?” The innkeeper became more interested. “A dispute between the Dragon Princes, eh?”
“That’s our business,” said Elric haughtily.
“Of course, my lords.”
“You know nothing of a great mirror which steals men’s memories?” Dyvim Tvar asked.
“A magical mirror!” The innkeeper threw back his head and laughed heartily. “I doubt if there’s one decent mirror in the whole of Oin or Yu! No, my lords, I think you are misled if you fear danger from those lands!”
“Doubtless you are right,” said Elric, staring down into his own untasted wine. “But it would be wise if we were to check for ourselves—and it would be in Lormyr’s interests, too, if we were to find what we seek and warn you accordingly.”
“Fear not for Lormyr. We can deal easily with any silly attempt to make war from that quarter. But if you’d see for yourselves, you must follow the coast for three days until you come to a great bay. The River Ar runs into that bay and on the shores of the river lies Dhoz-Kam—a seedy sort of city, particularly for a capital serving two nations. The inhabitants are corrupt, dirty and disease-ridden, but fortunately they are also lazy and thus afford little trouble, especially if you keep a sword by you. When you have spent an hour in Dhoz-Kam, you will realize the impossibility of such folk becoming a menace to anyone else, unless they