Stormbringer - Michael Moorcock [39]
"Thank the gods," said the Theocrat. "I feared we'd lost you. You're a delicate case to be sure, my friend. You must stay alive longer than this. To begin my entertainment, I have arranged for you to sail on my own flagship. We are now crossing the Dragon Sea, our fleet well protected by charms against the monsters roaming these parts." He frowned. "Thanks to you, we haven't the same call for the charms which would have borne us safely through the chaos-torn waters. The seas are almost normal for the moment. But that will soon be changed."
Elric's old spirit returned for a moment and he glared at his enemy, too weak to voice the loathing he felt.
Jagreen Lern laughed softly and stirred Elric's gaunt white head with the toe of his boot. "I think I can brew a drug which will give you a little more vitality."
The food, when it next came, was foul-tasting, and had to be forced between Elric's mumbling lips, but after a while he was able to sit up and observe the huddled body of Moonglum. Evidently, the little man had totally succumbed to his torture. To his surprise, Elric discovered he was unfettered and he crawled the agonising distance between himself and the Eastlander, shaking Moonglum's shoulder. He groaned, but did not otherwise respond.
A shaft of light suddenly struck through the darkness of the hold and Elric blinked, looking up to see that the hatch-cover had been prised aside and Jagreen Lern's bearded face stared down at him.
"Good, good. I see the brew had its effect. Come, Elric, smell the invigorating sea and feel the warm sun on your body. We are not many miles from the coasts of Argimiliar and our scout-ships report quite a sizeable fleet sailing hence."
Elric cursed. "By Arioch, I hope they send you all to the bottom!"
Jagreen Lern pursed his lips, mockingly. "By whom? Arioch? Do you not remember what ensued in my own palace? Arioch cannot be invoked. Not by you—not by me. Your stinking spells saw to that!"
He turned to an unseen lieutenant. "Bind him and bring him on deck. You know what to do with him."
Two warriors dropped into the hold and grasped the still weak Elric, tying his arms and legs and manhandling him on to the deck. He gasped as the sun's glare struck his eyes.
"Prop him up so that he may see all," Jagreen Lern ordered.
The warriors obeyed, and Elric was lifted to a standing position, seeing Jagreen Lern's huge, black flagship with its silken deck canopies flapping in a steady westerly breeze, its three banks of straining oarsmen and its tall ebony mast, bearing a sail of dark red.
Beyond the ship's rails, Elric saw a massive fleet surging in the flagship's wake. As well as the vessels of Pan Tang and Dharijor, there were many from Jharkor, Shazar and Tarkesh, but on every scarlet sail the Merman blazon of Pan Tang was painted.
Despair filled Elric, for he knew that the Southlands, however strong, could not match a fleet like this.
"We have been at sea for only three days," said Jagreen Lern, "but thanks to a witch-wind, we're almost at our destination. A scout-ship has recently reported that the Lormyrian navy, hearing rumours of our superior sea-power, is sailing to join with us. A wise move of King Montan—for the moment, at any rate. I'll make use of him for the time being and, when his usefulness is over, I'll kill him for a treacherous turncoat."
"Why do you tell me this?" Elric whispered, his teeth gritted against the pain that came with any slight movement of his face or body.
"Because I want you to witness for yourself the defeat of the South. The Merchant Princes sail against us—and we shall easily crush them. I want you to know that what you sought to avert will come to pass. After we have subdued the South and sucked her of her treasures, we'll vanquish the Isle of the Purple Towns and press forward to sack Vilmir and Ilmiora. That will be an easy matter, don't you agree? We have allies other than those you defeated."