Stormbringer - Michael Moorcock [45]
Jagreen Lern's new flagship now lay behind three rows of men-o'-war and behind the flagship were the Chaos Ships.
Elric's vessel's iron ram ripped into the first enemy ship and the rowers leaned on their oars, backing away and turning to pierce another ship below the water line. Showers of arrows sprayed from the holed ship and clattered on deck and armour. Several rowers went down.
Elric and his companions directed their men from the main deck, standing so that between them they had an overall view of what was going on around them. Elric looked up suddenly, warned by some sixth sense, and saw streaking balls of green fire come curving out of the sky.
"Prepare to quench fires!" Kargan yelled and the group of men already primed for this leapt for the tubs containing a special brew which the Sealords had prepared. This was spread on decks and splashed on canvas and, when the fire-balls landed, they were swiftly quenched. "Don't engage unless forced to," Elric called to the seamen, "keep aiming for the flagship. If we take that, our advantage will be good!"
"We are doomed, I fear," Kargan said quietly, shuddering a little as he saw the chaos stuff in the distance suddenly move and erupt tendrils of black matter into the sky.
Elric was silent.
Now they were in the thick of the enemy fleet, the ships of their squadron following behind, their great oars slicing through the ocean's foam. The war-engines of their own fleet sent up a constant barrage of fire and heavy stones. Only a few of Elric's craft broke through the enemy's first rank and reached the open sea, sailing towards Jagreen Lern's flagship.
As they were observed, the enemy ships sailed to protect the flagship and the scintillating ships of death, moving with fantastic speed for their size, protected the Theocrat's vessel.
Shouting over the waters, Kargan ordered their diminished squadron into a new formation. Dyvim Slorm shook his head in astonishment. "How can things of that size support themselves on the water?" he asked Elric.
"It's unlikely that they actually do." As their ship manoeuvred into its new position, he stared at the huge craft, twenty of them, dwarfing everything else on the sea. They seemed covered with a kind of shining fluid which flashed all the colours of the spectrum so that their outlines were hard to see and the shadowy figures moving about on their gigantic decks could not easily be observed. Wisps of dark stuff began to drift across the scene, close to the water, and Kargan, from the lower deck, pointed and shouted:
"See! Chaos comes! How can we fight that!"
Elric shook his head, perturbed. "We must try! We must attack."
Kargan relayed the order, his voice pitched higher than usual. A mood of bitter recklessness came upon Elric as he gripped the rigging to steady himself on the swaying deck. Dyvim Slorm muttered: "We are going to our doom, Elric. No man would willingly get close to those ships. Only the dead are drawn to them, and they do not go with joy!"
But Elric ignored his cousin.
A strange silence descended over the waters and the rhythmic sound of the splashing oars was sharp. The death fleet waited for them, impassively, as if they did not need to prepare for battle. He tightened his grip on Stormbringer. The blade responded to the pounding of his pulse-beat, moving in his hand with each thud of his heart, as if linked to it by veins and arteries. Now they were so close to the Chaos ships that they could make out better the figures crowding the great decks. Horribly, Elric thought he recognised some of the gaunt faces of the dead.
The waters heaved, foamed and seemed to be attempting to rise but then subsided again.
In his wild despair Elric screamed to Kargan: "There is nothing else for it. Swing the ship round the Chaos