Vanishing Tower - Michael Moorcock [64]
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned. Moonglum stood there, with Rackhir beside him. They had ridden out from Tanelorn to find him.
"The banners have vanished," Rackhir told him. "And the arrows, too. Only the corpses of those creatures remain and we shall bury them. Will you come back with us, now, to Tanelorn?"
"Tanelorn cannot give me peace, Rackhir."
"I believe that to be true. But I have a potion in my house which will deaden some of your memories, help you forget some of what has happened lately."
"I would be grateful for such a potion. Though I doubt ..."
"It will work. I promise. Another would achieve complete forgetfulness from drinking this potion. But you may hope to forget a little."
Elric thought of Corum and Erekosë and Jhary-a-Conel and the implications of his experiences—that even if he were to die he would be reincarnated in some other form to fight again and to suffer again. An eternity of warfare and of pain. If he could forget that knowledge it would be enough. He had the impulse to ride far away from Tanelorn and concern himself as much as he could in the pettier affairs of men.
"I am so weary of gods and their struggles," he murmured as he mounted his golden mare.
Moonglum stared out into the desert.
"But when will the gods themselves weary of it, I wonder?" he said. "If they did, it would be a happy day for Man. Perhaps all our struggling, our suffering, our conflicts are merely to relieve the boredom of the Lords of the Higher Worlds. Perhaps that is why when they created us they made us imperfect."
They began to ride towards Tanelorn while the wind blew sadly across the desert. The sand was already beginning to cover up the corpses of those who had sought to wage war against eternity and had, inevitably, found that other eternity which was death.
For a while Elric walked his horse beside the others. His lips formed a name but did not speak it.
And then, suddenly, he was galloping towards Tanelorn dragging the screaming runesword from its scabbard and brandishing it at the impassive sky, making the horse rear up and lash its hooves in the air, shouting over and over again in a voice full of roaring misery and bitter rage:
"Ah, damn you! Damn you! Damn you!"
But those who heard him—and some might have been the Gods he addressed—knew that it was Elric of Melniboné himself who was truly damned.
Table of Contents
Book OneThe Torment of the Last Lord
Chapter OnePale Prince on a Moonlit Shore
Chapter TwoWhite Face Staring Through Snow
Chapter ThreeFeathers Filling a Great Sky
Chapter FourOld Castle Standing Alone
Chapter FiveDoomed Lord Dreaming
Chapter SixJewelled Bird Speaking
Chapter SevenBlack Wizard Laughing
Chapter EightA Great Host Screaming
Book TwoTo Snare the Pale Prince
Chapter OneThe Beggar Court
Chapter TwoThe Stolen Ring
Chapter ThreeThe Cold Ghouls
Chapter FourPunishment of the Burning God
Chapter FiveThings Which Are Not Women
Chapter SixThe Jesting Demon
Book ThreeThree Heroes with a Single Aim
Chapter OneTanelorn Eternal
Chapter TwoReturn of a Sorceress
Chapter ThreeThe Barrier Broken
Chapter FourThe Vanishing Tower.
Chapter FiveJhary-a-Conel
Chapter SixPale Lord Shouting in Sunlight