Vanishing Tower - Michael Moorcock [45]
"But if she—"
"I shall not see her again, Rackhir."
"As you say."
Once more the two friends fell silent and there was only birdsong and the splash of fountains in the air as Elric continued his pacing of the garden.
Some while later Elric suddenly turned on his heel and went into the house followed by Rackhir's troubled gaze.
When Elric came out again he was wearing the great wide belt around his waist—the belt which supported the black scabbard containing his runesword Stormbringer. Over his shoulders was flung a cloak of white silk and he wore high boots.
"I go riding," he said. "I will go by myself into the Sighing Desert and I will ride until I am exhausted. Perhaps exercise is all I need."
"Be careful of the desert, my friend," Rackhir cautioned him. "It is a sinister and treacherous wilderness."
"I will be careful."
"Take the big golden mare. She is used to the desert and her stamina is legendary."
"Thank you. I will see you in the morning if I do not return earlier."
"Take care, Elric. I trust your remedy is successful and your melancholy disappears."
Rackhir's expression had little of relief in it as he watched his friend stride towards the near-by stables, his white cloak billowing behind him like a sea fog suddenly risen.
Then he heard the sound of Elric's horse as its hooves struck the cobbles of the street and Rackhir got to his feet to watch as the albino urged the golden mare into a canter and headed for the northern wall beyond which the great yellow waste of the Sighing Desert could be seen.
Moonglum came out of the house, a large apple in his hand, a scroll under his arm.
"Where goes Elric, Rackhir?"
"He looks for peace in the desert."
Moonglum frowned and bit thoughtfully into his apple. "He has sought peace in all other places and I fear he'll not find it there, either."
Rackhir nodded his agreement. "But it is my premonition he'll discover something else, for Elric is not always motivated by his own wishes. There are times when other forces work within him to make him take some fateful action."
"You think this is such a time?"
"It could be."
Chapter Two
Return of a Sorceress
The sand rippled as the wind blew it so that the dunes seemed like waves in an almost petrified sea. Stark fangs of rock jutted here and there—the remains of mountain ranges which had been eroded by the wind. And a mournful sighing could just be heard, as if the sand remembered when it had been rock and the stones of cities and the bones of men and beasts and longed for its resurrection, sighed at the memory of its death.
Elric drew the cloak's cowl over his head to protect it from the fierce sun which hung in the steel-blue sky.
One day, he thought, I too shall know this peace of death and perhaps then I shall also regret it. He let the golden mare slow to a trot and took a sip of water from one of his canteens.
Now the desert surrounded him and it seemed infinite. Nothing grew. No animals lived there. There were no birds in the sky.
For some reason he shuddered and he had a presentiment of a moment in the future when he would be alone, as he was now, in a world even more barren than this desert, without even a horse for company. He shook off the thought, but it had left him so stunned that for a little while he achieved his ambition and did not brood upon his fate and his situation. The wind dropped slightly and the sighing became little more than a whisper.
Dazed, Elric fingered the pommel of his blade—Stormbringer, the Black Sword—for he associated his presentiment with the weapon but could not tell why. And it seemed to him that he heard an ironic note in the murmuring of the wind. Or did the sound emanate from his sword itself? He cocked his head, listening, but the sound became even less audible, as if aware that he listened.
The golden mare began to climb the gentle slope of a dune, stumbling once