Elric to Rescue Tanelorn - Michael Moorcock [119]
“Moonglum!”
“Greetings, Elric. Our host’s men sought me out as I haggled with a merchant who seemed unaware of the danger his caravan would face if unprotected by us. I told him where I thought he might find you. I am glad he discovered you so swiftly. I have been waiting to eat for an hour!”
The knight handed his helmet to a servant and other servants began to divest him of his breastplate and greaves, handing him a loose, brocade robe which he put on.
As they seated themselves he said, “I am Duke Avan Astran of Old Hrolmar in Vilmir.”
“I have heard of you, my lord.” Elric helped himself to the salad offered him by a servant. Duke Avan Astran was known as a great adventurer whose journeyings across the world had made his city rich. “You are famous for your travels.”
Duke Avan smiled. “Aye. I have explored most of the world. I have been to your own Melniboné and I have ventured east, to Master Moonglum’s lands—to Elwher and the Unknown Kingdoms. I have been to Myyrrhn, where the Winged Folk live. I have traveled as far as World’s Edge and hope one day to go beyond. But I have never crossed the Boiling Sea and I know only a small stretch of coast along the Western Continent that has no name. You have been there, I believe?”
“I was there once, when the sea-lords made their fateful massing, but I have not been there since.”
“Would you go there?”
“There is nothing to make me wish to do so.”
From across the table Elric glanced at Moonglum’s face which had suddenly become alert, almost worried. He looked at Duke Avan’s expression and tried to decipher it. He returned his attention to his food.
“You have never explored the interior of the Western Continent?” Duke Avan continued.
“No.”
“And yet you know there is some evidence that your own ancestors originally came from that mainland?”
“Evidence? A few legends, that is all.”
“One of those legends speaks of a city older than dreaming Imrryr. A city that still exists in the deep jungles of the West.”
“You mean R’lin K’ren A’a?” Elric pretended a lack of interest he no longer felt.
“Aye. A strange name. You pronounce it more fluently than could I.”
“It means simply ‘Where the High Ones Meet’ in the ancient speech of Melniboné.”
“So I have read.”
“And,” Elric cut into veal in a rich, sweet sauce, “it does not exist.”
“It is marked on a map I have.”
Deliberately, Elric chewed his meat and swallowed it. “The map is doubtless a forgery.”
“Perhaps. Do you recall anything else of the legend of R’lin K’ren A’a?”
“There is the story of the Creature Doomed to Live.” Elric pushed the food aside and poured wine for himself. “The city is said to have received its name because the Lords of the Higher Worlds once met there to decide the rules of the Cosmic Struggle. They were overheard by the one inhabitant of the city who had not flown when they came. When they discovered him, they doomed him to remain alive for ever, carrying the frightful knowledge in his head…”
“I have heard that story, too. But the one that interests me is that the inhabitants of R’lin K’ren A’a never returned to their city. Instead they struck northward and crossed the sea. Some reached an island we now call Sorcerers’ Isle while others went further—blown by a great storm—and came at length to a large island inhabited by dragons whose venom caused all it touched to burn…to Melniboné, in fact.”
“And you wish to test the truth of that story. Your interest is that of a scholar?”
Duke Avan laughed. “Partly. But my main interest in R’lin K’ren A’a is more materialistic. For your ancestors left a great treasure behind them when they fled their city. Particularly they abandoned an image of Arioch, the Lord of Chaos—a monstrous image, carved in jade, whose eyes were two huge, identical gems of a kind unknown anywhere else in all the lands of the Earth. Jewels from another plane of existence. Jewels which