Elric: The Stealer of Souls
- Автор: Муркок Майкл
- Серия: Chronicles of the Last Emperor of Melnibone #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Фэнтези
Электронная книга - «Elric: The Stealer of Souls». Краткое содержание книги:
–from the Foreword by Alan Moore, creator of V for Vendetta
Friendship didn't come between Bon and his ferocious dislike of theburgeoning genre. Asked if he'd like a supernatural adventure storyin his new start-up, he shuddered. "No way, Mike. I would wathertake cyanide," he lisped with his usual courtesy. He saw Lovecraftand Peake as the same: "All wight, Mike, if you like your dahkness uttah !" he would add in his over-the-top affected voice, fixing himself another whisky and milk ("foh my ulcah…" he explained). SoElric appeared in book form, in hardback in the UK and paperback in the United States. Eventually new stories were commissioned. But not for a while. For quite some time, these were allthere were, with Stormbringer trimmed to fit the page require-ments of the book publisher who still had circulating libraries as amain customer. That was another reason for returning to the original magazine narrative which appears here pretty much as it did in the early 1960s. At the time the first stories were being published comment about them was appearing almost as swiftly as it might these days on the web, via the great network of fanzines which, while mainly produced in the United States and UK also appeared in Italy, Switzerland, France, Germany, Scandinavia, Japan and elsewhere.
For J. G. Ballard, whose enthusiasm for Elric gave me encouragement to begin this particular book, my first attempt at a full-length novel, and for Jim Cawthorn, whose illustrations based on my ideas in turn gave me inspiration for certain scenes in this book, and for Dave Britton, who kept the magazines in which the serial first appeared and who kindly loaned them to me so that I could restore this novel to its original shape and length.
So far, the earlier Elric stories have dealt with his random and rather aimless wanderings in the ancient world, but, in fact, they were all part of a larger pattern which begins to become apparent in the following novelette. It is the beginning of the big battle between Order and Chaos.
- John Carnell, SCIENCE FANTASY No. 59, June 1963
Prologue
THERE CAME A time when there was great movement upon the
Earth and above it, when the destiny of Men and Gods was hammered out upon the forge of Fate, when monstrous wars were brewed and mighty deeds were designed. And there rose up in this time, which was called the Age of the Young Kingdoms, heroes. Greatest of these heroes was a doom-driven adventurer who bore a crooning runeblade that he loathed.
His name was Elric of Melnibone, king of ruins, lord of a scattered race that had once ruled the ancient world. Elric, sorcerer and swordsman, slayer of kin, despoiler of his homeland, white-faced albino, last of his line.
Elric, who had come to Karlaak by the Weeping Waste and had married a wife in whom he found some peace, some surcease from the torment in him.
And Elric, who had within him a greater destiny than he knew, now dwelt in Karlaak with Zarozinia, his wife, and his sleep was troubled, his dream dark, one brooding night in the Month of Anemone…
BOOK ONE
DEAD GOD'S HOMECOMING
In which, at long last, Elric's fate begins to be revealed
to him as the forces of Law and Chaos gather
strength for the final battle which will decide
the future of Elric's world…
Chapter One
ABOVE THE ROLLINGEarth great clouds tumbled down and bolts of lightning charged groundwards to slash the midnight black, split trees in twain and sear through roofs that cracked and broke.
The dark mass of forest trembled with the shock and out of it crept six hunched, unhuman figures who paused to stare beyond the low hills towards the outline of a city. It was a city of squat walls and slender spires, of graceful towers and domes; and it had a name which the leader of the creatures knew. Karlaak by the Weeping Waste it was called.
Not of natural origin, the storm was ominous. It groaned around the city of Karlaak as the creatures skulked past the open gates and made their way through shadows towards the elegant palace where Elric slept. The leader raised an axe of black iron in its clawed hand.
The group came to a stealthy halt and regarded the sprawling palace which lay on a hill surrounded by languorously scented gardens. The earth shook as lightning lashed it and thunder prowled across the turbulent sky.
"Chaos has aided us in this matter," the leader grunted. "See - already the guards fall in magic slumber and our entrance is thus made simple. The Lords of Chaos are good to their servants."
He spoke the truth. Some supernatural force had been at work and the warriors guarding Elric's palace had dropped to the ground, their snores echoing the thunder. The servants of Chaos crept past the prone guards, into the main courtyard and from there into the darkened palace. Unerringly they climbed twisting staircases, moved softly along gloomy corridors, to arrive at length outside the room where Elric and his wife lay in uneasy sleep.
As the leader laid a hand upon the door, a voice cried out from within the room: "What's this? What things of hell disrupt my rest? "
"He sees us!" sharply whispered one of the creatures.
"No," the leader said, "he sleeps-but such a sorcerer as this Elric is not so easily lulled into a stupor. We had best make speed and do our work, for if he wakes it will be the harder!"
He twisted the handle and eased the door open, his axe half raised.
Beyond the bed, heaped with tumbled furs and silks, lightning gashed the night again, showing the white face of the albino close to that of his dark-haired wife.
Even as they entered, he rose stiffly in the bed and his crimson eyes opened, staring out at them. For a moment the eyes were glazed and then the albino forced himself awake, shouting: "Begone, you creatures of my dreams!"
The leader cursed and leapt forward, but he had been instructed not to slay this man. He raised the axe threateningly.
"Silence-your guards cannot aid you!"
Elric jumped from the bed and grasped the thing's wrist, his face close to the fanged muzzle. Because of his albinism he was physically weak and required magic to give him strength. But so quickly did he move, that he had wrested the axe from the creature's hand and smashed the shaft between its eyes. Snarling, it fell back, but its comrades jumped forward. There were five of them, huge muscles moving beneath their furred skins.
Elric clove the skull of the first as others grappled with him. His body was spattered with the thing's blood and brains and he gasped in disgust at the foetid stuff. He managed to wrench his arm away and bring the axe up and down into the collarbone of another. But then he felt his legs gripped and he fell, confused but still battling. Then there came a great blow on his head and pain blazed through him. He made an effort to rise, failed and fell back insensible.
Thunder and lightning still disturbed the night when, with throbbing head, he awoke and got slowly to his feet using a bedpost as support. He stared dazedly around him.
Zarozinia was gone. The only other figure in the room was the stiff corpse of the beast he had killed. His black-haired girl-wife had been abducted.