Stormbringer - Michael Moorcock [27]
"A natural storm I can accept, no matter how dangerous," Moonglum murmured, and made swift preparations, furling the sail as the wind increased and the sea churned.
In a way, Elric welcomed the storm when it finally struck them. At least it obeyed natural laws and could be fought by natural means. The rain refreshed their faces, the wind swept through their hair and they battled the storm with fierce enjoyment, the plucky boat riding the waves. But, in spite of this, they were being driven further and further north-east, towards the conquered coasts of Shazar, in the opposite direction to their goal.
The healthy storm raged on until all thoughts of destiny and supernatural danger were driven from their minds and their muscles ached and they gasped with the shock of cold waves on their drenched bodies.
The boat reeled and rocked, their hands were sore from the tightness of their grip on wood and rope, but it was as if Fate had singled them out to live, or perhaps for a death that would be less clean, for they continued to ride the heaving waters.
Then, with a shock, Elric saw rocks rearing and Moonglum shouted in recognition: "The Serpent's Teeth!"
The Serpent's Teeth lay close to Shazar and were one of the most feared hazards of the shore-hugging traders of the west. Elric and Moonglum had seen them before, from a distance, but now the storm was driving them nearer and nearer, and though they struggled to keep the boat away, they seemed bound to be smashed to their deaths on the jagged rocks.
A wave surged under the boat, lifted them and bore them down. Elric clung to the side of the boat and thought he heard Moonglum's wild shout above the noise of the storm before they were flung towards the Serpent's Teeth.
"Farewell!"
And then there was the terrifying sound of smashing timbers, the feel of sharp rock lacerating his rolling body, and he was beneath the waves, fighting his way to the surface to gasp in air before another wave tossed him and grazed his arm against the rock.
Desperately, encumbered by the life-giving runesword at his belt, he attempted to swim for the looming cliffs of Shazar, conscious that even if he lived, Fate had returned him to enemy soil and his chances of reaching the Southlands were now more remote than ever.
Eight
Elric lay exhausted on the cold shingle, listening to the musical sound that the tide made as it drew back over the stones. Another sound joined that of the surf, and he recognised it as the crunch of boots. Someone was coming towards him. In Shazar it was most likely to be an enemy. He rolled over and began scrambling to his feet, drawing the last reserves from his worn-out body. His right hand had half-drawn Stormbringer from its scabbard before he realised that it was Moonglum, bent with weariness, standing grinning before him.
"Thank the gods, you live!" Moonglum lowered himself to the shingle and leaned back with his arms supporting his weight, regarding the now calm sea and the towering Serpent's Teeth in the distance. "And I think the gods had, indeed, something to do with our shipwreck and rescue both."
"Aye, we live," Elric moodily squatted down, "but for how long in this ruined land, I cannot guess."
Moonglum shook his head and laughed lightly. "You're still the gloomy one, friend. Be thankful for your life, say I."
"Small mercies are all but useless in this conflict," Elric said. "Rest now, Moonglum, while I watch, then you can take my place. There was no time to lose when we began this adventure, and now we've lost days."
Moonglum gave no argument, but allowed himself immediately to sleep and when he awoke, much refreshed though aching still, Elric slept until the moon was high and shining brightly in the clear sky.
They trudged through the night, the sparse grass of the coast region giving way to wet, blackened ground. It was as if a holocaust had raged over the countryside, followed by a rainstorm which had left behind it a marsh of ashes. Remembering the grassy plains of this part