Stormbringer - Michael Moorcock [30]
Sitting in his chair, sipping his wine and glancing around Sepiriz's dark chamber, lighted only by the fires which burned in its several grates, Elric searched his mind for some clue to the unidentifiable impressions which seemed to drift just below the surface of his conscious brain. There was something mysterious about the chamber, a mystery that was not solely created by its vastness and the shadows that filled it. Without knowing why, Elric thought that though it was bounded by miles of solid rock in all directions, it had no proper dimensions that could be measured by the means normally employed; it was as if it extended into planes that did not conform to the earth's space and time—planes that were, in fact, timeless and spaceless. He felt that he might attempt to cross the chamber from one wall to the other—but could walk forever without ever reaching the far wall. He made an attempt to dismiss these thoughts and put down his cup, breathing in deeply. There was no doubt that the wine relaxed and invigorated him. He pointed to the wine-jar on the stone table and said to Sepiriz: "A man might easily become addicted to such a brew!"
"I'm addicted already," Moonglum grinned, pouring himself another cup.
Sepiriz shook his head. "It has a strange quality, our Nihrain wine. It tastes pleasant and refreshes the weary, yet once his strength is regained, the man who drinks it then is nauseated. That is why we still have some of it left. But our stocks are low—the vines from which it was made have long since passed from the earth."
"A magic potion," Moonglum said, replacing his cup on the table.
"If you like so to designate it. Elric and I are of an earlier age when what you call magic was part of normal life and Chaos ruled entirely, if more quietly than now. You men of the Young Kingdoms are perhaps right to be suspicious of sorcery, for if we are successful in readying the world for Law, then, perhaps, you'll find similar brews by more painstaking methods, methods you can understand better."
"I doubt it," Moonglum laughed. "And you speak as if the learning of supernatural wisdom were easy. From what I hear, it takes a man of genius to master it."
Sepiriz smiled. "That is true of these days."
Elric sighed. "If we are not luckier than we have been, we'll see Chaos unleashed on the globe and Law forever vanquished," he said gloomily.
"And no luck for us if Law is triumphant, eh?" Sepiriz poured himself a cup of the wine.
Moonglum looked sharply at Elric, understanding that much more of his friend's unenviable predicament.
"You said there was more work for me and my sword, Sepiriz," Elric said. "What's its nature?"
"You have already learned that Jagreen Lern has summoned some of the Dukes of Hell to captain his men and keep his conquered lands under control?"
"Yes."
"You understand the import of this? Jagreen Lern has succeeded in making a sizeable breach in the Law-constructed barrier which once kept the creatures of Chaos from wholly ruling the planet. He is forever widening this breach as his power increases. This explains how he could summon such a mighty assembly of Hell's nobility where, in the past, it was hard to bring one to our plane. Arioch is among them ..."
"Arioch!" Arioch had always been Elric's patron demon, the principal god worshipped by his ancestors. That matters had reached such a stage conveyed to him, deeper than anything else, the fact that he was now a total outcast, unprotected either by Law or Chaos.
"Your only close supernatural ally is your sword," Sepiriz said grimly. "And, perhaps, its brothers."
"Brothers? Brothers? What brothers? There is only the sister-sword Mournblade,