Elric_ The Stealer of Souls - Michael Moorcock [156]
Kargan, in the thick but light sea-armour of his people which gave him the appearance of a hairy-faced armadillo, pointed as several small boats detached themselves from the fleet and sailed towards the quay.
“Here come the boats to take us to our ships, my lords!”
The gathered captains stirred, all of them with serious expressions, seeming, each and every one, to be pondering some personal problem, staring into the depths of their own hearts—perhaps trying to reach the fear which lay there; trying to reach it and tear it out and fling it from them. They all had more than the usual trepidation experienced when facing a fight—for, like Elric, they could not guess what the Chaos ships were capable of.
They were a desperate company, understanding that something less palatable than death might await them beyond the horizon.
Elric squeezed Zarozinia’s arm.
“Goodbye.”
“Farewell, Elric—may whatever benevolent gods there are left on the Earth protect you.”
“Save your prayers for my companions,” he said quietly, “for they will be less able than I to face what lies out there.”
Moonglum called to him and Zarozinia: “Give her a kiss, Elric, and come to the boat. Tell her we’ll be back with victory tidings!”
Elric would never have admitted such familiarity, not even with his kinsman Dyvim Slorm, from anyone but Moonglum. But he took it in good part saying softly to her: “There, you see, little Moonglum is confident—and he’s usually the one with warnings of ominous portent!”
She said nothing, but kissed him lightly on the mouth, grasped his hand for a moment and then watched him as he strode down the quay and clambered into the boat which Moonglum and Kargan were steadying for him.
The oars splashed and bore the captains towards the flagship, Timber-tearer, Elric standing in the bow staring ahead, looking back only once when the boat drew alongside the ship and he began to climb the rope ladder up to the deck, his black helm bobbing.
Bracing himself on the deck, Elric watched the backs of the warrior-rowers as they bent to the oars, supplementing the light wind which filled the great purple sail, making it curve out in a graceful billow.
The Isle of the Purple Towns was now out of sight and green, glinting water was all that was visible around the fleet, which stretched behind the flagship, its furthest ships tiny shapes in the distance. Already the fleet was moving into battle-order, forming into five squadrons, each under the command of an experienced sea-lord from the Purple Towns, for most of the other captains were landsmen who, though quick to learn, had little experience of sea tactics.
Moonglum came stumbling along the swaying deck to stand beside his friend.
“How did you sleep last night?” he asked Elric.
“Well enough, save for a few nightmares.”
“Ah, then you shared something with us all. Sleep was hard won for everyone, and when it came it was troubled. Visions of pits of monsters and demons, of horrifying shapes, of unearthly powers, they crowded our dreams.”
Elric nodded, paying little attention to Moonglum. The elements of Chaos in their own beings were evidently awakening in response to the approach of the Chaos horde itself. He hoped they would be strong enough to withstand the actuality as they had survived their dreams.
“Disturbance to forward!”
It was the lookout’s cry, baffled and perturbed. Elric cupped his hands around his mouth and tilted his head back.
“What sort of disturbance?”
“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, my lord—I can’t describe it.”
Elric turned to Moonglum. “Relay the order through the fleet—slow the pace to one drum-beat in four, squadron commanders stand by to receive final battle orders.” He strode towards the mast and began to climb up it towards the lookout’s post. He climbed until he was high above the deck. The lookout swung out of his cradle, since there was only room for one.