Elric_ The Sleeping Sorceress - Michael Moorcock [121]
“An odd place to choose for a quest,” said the Red Archer, standing with hands on hips and looking Elric up and down. “But I’ll strike a bargain with you if you’re interested.”
“If the bargain suits me, archer, I’ll agree to it, for you seem to know more of this world than do I.”
“Well—you must find something here and then leave, whereas I have nothing at all to do here and wish to leave. If I help you in your quest, will you take me with you when you return to our own plane?”
“That seems a fair bargain, but I cannot promise what I have no power to give. I will say only this—if it is possible for me to take you back with me to our own plane, either before or after I have finished my quest, I will do it.”
“That is reasonable,” said Rackhir the Red Archer. “Now—tell me what you seek.”
“I seek two swords, forged millennia ago by immortals, used by my ancestors but then relinquished by them and placed upon this plane. The swords are large and heavy and black and they have cryptic runes carved into their blades. I was told that I would find them in the Pulsing Cavern which is reached through the Tunnel Under the Marsh. Have you heard of either of these places?”
“I have not. Nor have I heard of the two black swords.” Rackhir rubbed his bony chin. “Though I remember reading something in one of the Books of Phum and what I read disturbed me . . .”
“The swords are legendary. Many books make some small reference to them—almost always mysterious. There is said to be one tome which records the history of the swords and all who have used them—and all who will use them in the future—a timeless book which contains all time. Some call it the Chronicle of the Black Sword and in it, it is said, men may read their whole destinies.”
“I know nothing of that, either. It is not one of the Books of Phum. I fear, Comrade Elric, that we shall have to venture to the City of Ameeron and ask your questions of the inhabitants there.”
“There is a city upon this plane?”
“Aye—a city. I stayed but a short time in it, preferring the wilderness. But with a friend, it might be possible to bear the place a little longer.”
“Why is Ameeron unsuited to your taste?”
“Its citizens are not happy. Indeed, they are a most depressed and depressing group, for they are all, you see, exiles or refugees or travelers between the worlds who lost their way and never found it again. No-one lives in Ameeron by choice.”
“A veritable City of the Damned.”
“As the poet might remark, aye.” Rackhir offered Elric a sardonic wink. “But I sometimes think all cities are that.”
“What is the nature of this plane where there are, as far as I can tell, no planets, no moon, no sun? It has something of the air of a great cavern.”
“There is, indeed, a theory that it is a sphere buried in an infinity of rock. Others say that it lies in the future of our own Earth—a future where the universe has died. I heard a thousand theories during the short space of time I spent in the City of Ameeron. All, it seemed to me, were of equal value. All, it seemed to me, could be correct. Why not? There are some who believe that everything is a Lie. Conversely, everything could be the Truth.”
It was Elric’s turn to remark ironically: “You are a philosopher, then, as well as an archer, friend Rackhir of Phum?”
Rackhir laughed. “If you like! It is such thinking that weakened my loyalty to Chaos and led me to this pass. I have heard that there is a city called Tanelorn which may sometimes be found on the shifting shores of the Sighing Desert. If I ever return to our own world, Comrade Elric, I shall seek that city, for I have heard that peace may be found there—that such debates as the nature of Truth are considered meaningless. That men are content merely to exist in Tanelorn.”
“I envy those who dwell in Tanelorn,” said Elric.
Rackhir sniffed. “Aye. But it would probably prove a disappointment, if found. Legends are best left as legends and attempts to make them real are rarely successful.