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
Chapter Six
The rattle of anchors woke him.
Blinking in the light of the watery sun, he saw the Southern fleet on the horizon, riding gracefully in hollow pomp towards the ships of Jagreen Lern. Either, he thought, the Southern kings were very brave, or else they did not understand the strength of their enemies.
Beneath him, on Jagreen Lern's foredeck, a great catapult rested, and slaves had already filled its cup with a large ball of flaming pitch.
Normally, Elric knew, such catapults were an encumbrance, since when they reached that size they were difficult to rewind and gave lighter war-engines the advantage. Yet obviously Jagreen Lern's engineers were not fools. Elric noted extra mechanisms on the big catapult and realized they were equipped to rewind rapidly.
The wind had dropped and five hundred pairs of muscles strove to row Jagreen Lern's galley along. On the deck, in disciplined order, his warriors took their posts beside the great boarding platforms that would drop down on the opponent's ships and grapple them at the same time as they formed a bridge between the vessels.
Elric was forced to admit that Jagreen Lern had used foresight. He had not relied wholly on supernatural aid. His ships were the best equipped he had ever seen. The Southern fleet, he decided, was doomed. To fight Jagreen Lern was insanity.
But the Theocrat had made one mistake. He had, in his gnawing desire for vengeance, ensured that Elric's vitality was restored for a few hours and this vitality extended to his mind as well as his body.
Stormbringer had vanished. With the sword he was, among men, all but invincible. Without it, he was helpless. These were facts. Therefore he must somehow regain the blade. But how? It had returned to the plane of Chaos with its brothers, presumably drawn back there by the overwhelming power of the rest.
He must contact it.
He dare not summon the entire horde of blades with the spell, that would be tempting providence too far.
He heard the sudden thwack and roar as the giant catapult discharged its first shot. The flame-shrouded pitch went arching over the ocean and landed short, boiling the sea around it as it guttered and sank. Swiftly the war-engine was rewound, and Elric marveled at the speed as another ball of flaring pitch was forked into its cup. Jagreen Lern looked up at him and laughed.
"My pleasure will be short. There are not enough of them to put up a long fight. Watch them perish, Elric!"
Elric said nothing, pretended to be dazed and frightened.
The next fireball struck one of the leading ships directly and Elric saw tiny figures scampering about, striving desperately to quench the spreading pitch, but within a minute the whole ship was ablaze, a gouting mass of flame as the figures now jumped overboard, unable to save their vessel.
The air around him sounded to the rushing heat of the fireballs and, within range now, the Southerners retaliated with their lighter machines until it seemed the sky was filled with a thousand comets and the heat almost equaled that which Elric had experienced in the torture chamber. Black smoke began to drift as the brass beaks of the ships' rams ground through timbers, impaling ships like skewered fish. The hoarse yells of fighting men began to be heard, and the clash of iron as the first few opposing warriors met.
But now he only vaguely heard the sounds, for he was thinking deeply.
Then, when at last his mind was ready, he called in a desperate and agonized voice that human ears could not hear above the noise of war:
"Stormbringer!"
His straining mind echoed the shout and he seemed to look beyond the turbulent battle, beyond the ocean, beyond the very Earth to a place of shadows and terror. Something moved there. Many things moved there.
"Stormbringer!"
He heard a curse from beneath him and saw Jagreen Lern pointing up at him. "Gag the white-faced sorcerer." Jagreen Lern's eyes met Elric's and the Theocrat sucked in his lips, deliberating a bare moment before adding: "And if that doesn't put an end to his babbling-best slay him!"
The lieutenant began to climb the mast towards Elric.
"Stormbringer! Your master perishes!"
He struggled in the biting ropes, but could hardly move.
"Stormbringer!"
All his life he had hated the sword he relied on so much; which he was relying on more and more, but now he called for it as a lover calls for his betrothed.
The warrior grasped his foot and shook it. "Silence! You heard my master!"
With insane eyes, Elric looked down at the warrior who shuddered and drew his sword, hanging to the mast with one hand and readying himself to make a stab at Elric's vitals.
"Stormbringer!" Elric sobbed the name. He must live. Without him, Chaos would surely rule the world.
The man lunged at Elric's body-yet the blade did not reach the albino. Then Elric remembered, with sudden humour, that Jagreen Lern had placed a protective spell about him! The Theocrat's own magic had saved his enemy!
"Stormbringer!"
Now the warrior gasped and the sword dropped from his fingers.
He seemed to grapple with something invisible at his throat and Elric saw the man's fingers sliced off and blood spurt from the stumps. Then, slowly, a shape materialized and, with bounding relief, the albino saw that it was a sword-his own runesword impaling the warrior and sucking out his soul!
The warrior dropped, but Stormbringer hung in the air and then turned to slash the ropes restraining Elric's hands and then nestled firmly, with horrid affection, in its master's right fist.
At once the stolen lifestuff of the warrior began to pour through Elric's being and the pain of his body vanished. Quickly he grasped a piece of the sail's rigging and cut away the rest of his bonds until he was swinging by one hand on the rope.
"Now, Jagreen Lern, we'll see who takes vengeance, finally," he grimaced as he swung towards the deck and dropped lightly upon it, the unholy vitality from the sword surging through him to fill him with a godlike ecstasy. He had never known it so strong before.
But then he noted that the boarding platforms had been lowered and only a skeleton crew remained on the flagship. Jagreen Lern must have led his main strength onto the ship which was now held fast by grapples.
Close by was a great barrel of pitch, used to form the fireballs.
Close to that was a flaring torch used to ignite them. Elric seized the brand and flung it into the pitch.
"Though Jagreen Lern may win this battle, his flagship shall go to the bottom with the Southern fleet," he said grimly, and dashed for the hold where he had been imprisoned, aware that Moonglum lay helpless there.
He wrenched up the hatch-cover and stared down at the pitiful figure of his friend. Evidently, he had been left to starve to death. A rat chittered away as the light shone down.
Elric jumped into the hold and saw, with horror, that part of Moonglum's right arm had been gnawed already. He heaved the body onto his shoulder, aware that the heart still beat, though faintly, and clambered back up to the deck. How to ensure his friend's safety and still take vengeance on Jagreen Lern was a problem. But Elric moved towards the boarding platform which he guessed the Theocrat to have crossed. As he did so, three warriors leapt towards him. One of them cried: "The albino! The reaver escapes!"