The Weird of the White Wolf - Michael Moorcock [37]
As they neared the shape, they saw that it was a castle of black stone—a sprawling pile covered with dark green crawling lichen which curled over its ancient bulk with an almost sentient protectiveness. Towers appeared to spring at random from it and it covered a vast area. There seemed to be no windows in any part of it and the only orifice was a rearing doorway blocked by thick bars of a metal which glowed with dull redness, but without heat. Above this gate, in flaring amber, was the sign of the Lords of Entropy, representing eight arrows radiating from a central hub in all directions. It appeared to hang in the air without touching the black, lichen-covered stone.
“I think our quest ends here,” Elric said grimly. “Here, or nowhere.”
“Before I go further, Elric, I'd like to know what it is you seek,” Moonglum murmured. “I think I've earned the right.”
“A book,” Elric said carelessly. “The Dead Gods' Book. It lies within those castle walls—of that I'm certain. We have reached the end of our journey.”
Moonglum shrugged. “I might not have asked,” he smiled, “for all your words mean to me. I hope that I will be allowed some small share of whatever treasure it represents.”
Elric grinned, in spite of the coldness which gripped his bowels, but he did not answer Moonglum.
“We need to enter the castle, first.” he said instead.
As if the gates had heard him, the metal bars flared to a pale green and then their glow faded back to red and finally dulled into non-existence. The entrance was unbarred and their way apparently clear.
“I like not that,” growled Moonglum. “Too easy. A trap awaits us—are we to spring it at the pleasure of whoever dwells within the castle confines?”
“What else can we do?” Elric spoke quietly.
“Go back—or forward. Avoid the castle—do not tempt He who guards the Book!” Shaarilla was gripping the albino's right arm, her whole face moving with fear, her eyes pleading. “Forget the Book, Elric!”
“Now?” Elric laughed humourlessly. “Now—after this journey? No, Shaarilla, not when the truth is so close. Better to die than never to have tried to secure the wisdom in the Book when it lies so near.”
Shaarilla's clutching fingers relaxed their grip and her shoulders slumped in hopelessness. “We cannot do battle with the minions of Entropy ...”
“Perhaps we will not have to.” Elric did not believe his own words but his mouth was twisted with some dark emotion, intense and terrible. Moonglum glanced at Shaarilla.
“Shaarilla is right.” he said with conviction. “You'll find nothing but bitterness, possibly death, inside those castle walls. Let us, instead, climb yonder steps and attempt to reach the surface.” He pointed to some twisting steps which led towards the yawning rent in the cavern roof.
Elric shook his head. “No. You go if you like.”
Moonglum grimaced in perplexity. “You're a stubborn one, friend Elric. Well, if it's all or nothing—then I'm with you. But personally, I have always preferred compromise.”
Elric began to walk slowly forward towards the dark entrance of the bleak and towering castle.
In a wide, shadowy courtyard a tall figure, wreathed in scarlet fire, stood awaiting them.
Elric marched on, passing the gateway. Moonglum and Shaarilla nervously followed.
Gusty laughter roared from the mouth of the giant and the scarlet fire fluttered about him. He was naked and unarmed, but the power which flowed from him almost forced the three back. His skin was scaly and of smoky purple colouring. His massive body was alive with rippling muscle as he rested lightly on the balls of his feet. His skull was long, slanting sharply backwards at the forehead and his eyes were like slivers of blue steel, showing no pupil. His whole body shook with mighty, malicious joy.
“Greetings to you, Lord Elric of Melniboné—I congratulate you for your remarkable tenacity!”
“Who are you?” Elric growled, his hand on his sword.
“My name is Orunlu the Keeper and this is a stronghold of