And Elric spoke through clenched teeth. 'I'll not be your puppet, runeblade. If we must be united, let it be upon a proper understanding.'
The sword seemed to hesitate, to drop its guard, and Elric was hard put to defend himself against the whirling attack of Mournblade which, in turn, seemed to sense its advantage.
Elric felt fresh energy pour up his right arm and into his body. This was what the sword could do. With it, he needed no drugs, would never be Weak again. In battle he would triumph. At peace, he could rule with pride. When he travelled, it could be alone and without fear. It was as if the sword reminded him of all these things, even as it returned Mournblade's attack.
And what must the sword have in return?
Elric knew. The sword told him, without words of any sort. Stormbringer needed to fight, for that was its reason for existence. Stormbringer needed to kill, for that was its source of energy, the lives and the souls of men, demons-even gods.
And Elric hesitated, even as his cousin gave a huge, cackling yell and dashed at him so that Mournblade glanced off his helm and he was flung backwards and down and saw Yyrkoon gripping his moaning black sword in both hands to plunge the runeblade into Elric's body.
And Elric knew he would do anything to resist that fate--for his soul to be drawn into Mournblade and his strength to feed Prince Yyrkoon's strength. And he rolled aside, very quickly, and got to one knee and turned and lifted Stormbringer with one gauntleted hand upon the blade and the other upon the hilt to take the great blow Prince Yyrkoon brought upon it. And the two black swords shrieked as if in pain, and they shivered, and black radiance poured from them as blood might pour from a man pierced by many arrows. And Elric was driven, still on his knees, away from the radiance, gasping and sighing and peering here and there for sight of Yyrkoon who had disappeared.
And Elric knew that Stormbringer spoke to him again. If Elric did not wish to die by Mournblade, then Elric must accept the bargain which the Black Sword offered.
'He must not die! ' said Elric. 'I will not slay him to make sport for you! '
And through the black radiance ran Yyrkoon, snarling and snapping and whirling his runesword.
Again Stormbringer darted through an opening, and again Elric made the blade pull back and Yyrkoon was only grazed.
Stormbringer writhed in Elric's hands.
Elric said: 'You shall not be my master.'
And Stormbringer seemed to understand and become quieter, as if reconciled. And Elric laughed, thinking that he now controlled the runesword and that from now on the blade would do his bidding.
'We shall disarm Yyrkoon, ' said Elric. 'We shall not kill him.'
Elric rose to his feet.
Stormbringer moved with all the speed of a needle-thin rapier. It feinted, it parried, it thrust. Yyrkoon, who had been grinning in triumph, snarled and staggered back, the grin dropping from his sullen features.
Stormbringer now worked for Elric. It made the moves that Elric wished to make. Both Yyrkoon and Mournblade seemed disconcerted by this turn of events. Mournblade shouted as if in astonishment at its brother's behaviour. Elric struck at Yyrkoon's sword-arm, pierced cloth--pierced flesh--pierced sinew-pierced bone. Blood came, soaking Yyrkoon's arm and dripping down onto the hilt of the sword. The blood was slippery. It weakened Yyrkoon's grip on his runesword. He took it in both hands, but he was unable to hold it firmly.
Elric, too, took Stormbringer in both hands. Unearthly strength surged through him. With a gigantic blow he dashed Stormbringer against Mournblade where blade met hilt. The runesword few from Yyrkoon's grasp. It sped across the Pulsing Cavern.
Elric smiled. He had defeated his own sword's will and, in turn, had defeated the brother sword.
Mournblade fell against the wall of the Pulsing Cavern and for a moment was still.
A groan then seemed to escape the defeated runesword. A high-pitched shriek filled the Pulsing Cavern. Blackness flooded over the eery pink light and extinguished it.
When the light returned Elric saw that a scabbard lay at his feet. The scabbard was black and of the same alien craftsmanship as the runesword. Elric saw Yyrkoon. The prince was on his knees and he was sobbing, his eyes darting about the Pulsing Cavern seeking Mournblade, looking at Elric with fright as if he knew he must now be slain.
'Mournblade?' Yyrkoon said hopelessly. He knew he was to die.
Mournblade had vanished from the Pulsing Cavern.
'Your sword is gone, ' said Elric quietly.
Yyrkoon whimpered and tried to crawl towards the entrance of the cavern. But the entrance had shrunk to the size of a small coin. Yyrkoon wept.
Stormbringer trembled, as if thirsty for Yyrkoon's soul. Elric stooped.
Yyrkoon began to speak rapidly. 'Do not slay me, Elric--not with that runeblade. I will do anything you wish. I will die in any other way.'
Elric said: 'We are victims, cousin, of a conspiracy--a game played by gods, demons and sentient swords. They wish one of us dead. I suspect they wish you dead more than they wish me dead. And that is the reason why I shall not slay you here.' He picked up the scabbard. He forced Stormbringer into it and at once the sword was quiet. Elric took off his old scabbard and looked around for Aubec's sword, but that, too, was gone. He dropped the old scabbard and hooked the new one to his belt. He rested his left hand upon the pommel of Stormbringer and he looked not without sympathy upon the creature that was his cousin.
'You are a worm, Yyrkoon. But is that your fault?'
Yyrkoon gave him a puzzled glance.
'I wonder, if you had all your desire, would you cease to be a worm, cousin?'
Yyrkoon raised himself to his knees. A little hope began to show in his eyes.
Elric smiled and drew a deep breath. 'We shall see, ' he said. 'You must agree to wake Cymoril from her sorcerous slumber.'
'You have humbled me, Elric, ' said Yyrkoon in a small, pitiful voice. 'I will wake her. Or would...'
'Can you not undo your spell?'
'We cannot escape from the Pulsing Cavern. It is past the time...'
'What's this?'
'I did not think you would follow me. And then I thought I would easily finish you. And now it is past the time. One can keep the entrance open for only a little while. It will admit anyone who cares to enter the Pulsing Cavern, but it will let no-one out after the power of the spell dies. I gave much to know that spell.'
'You have given too much for everything, ' said Elric. He went to the entrance and peered through. Rackhir waited on the other side. The Red Archer had an anxious expression. Elric said: 'Warrior Priest of Phum, it seems that my cousin and I are trapped in here. The entrance will not part for us.' Elric tested the warm, moist stuff of the wall. It would not open more than a tiny fraction. 'It seems that you can join us or else go back. If you do join us, you share our fate.'
'It is not much of a fate if I go back, ' said Rackhir. 'What chances have you?'
'One, ' said Elric. 'I can invoke my patron.'
'A Lord of Chaos?' Rackhir made a wry face. 'Exactly, ' said Elric. 'I speak of Arioch.'.
'Arioch, eh? Well, he does not care for renegades from Phum.'
'What do you choose to do?'
Rackhir stepped forward. Elric stepped back. Through the opening came Rackhir's head, followed by his shoulders, followed by the rest of him. The entrance closed again immediately. Rackhir stood up and untangled the string of his bow from the stave, smoothing it. 'I agreed to share your fate--to gamble all on escaping from this plane, ' said the Red Archer. He looked surprised when he saw Yyrkoon. 'Your enemy is still alive?'