The physician looked up. «These are no battle-made wounds. He's been hurt sorely, but hell live. He should recover to perfect fitness given a month or so of rest.»
«He'll have it, » Elric promised. He gripped the runesword at his belt and wondered what other tasks lay in store for them before the last great battle between Law and Chaos was joined.
Chaos would soon rule more than half the world, in spite of the powerful blow he had dealt it in forever sentencing the Dukes of Hell to their own plane; the more power that Jagreen Lern gathered, the more the threat from Chaos would increase.
He sighed and looked Northwards.
Two days later they returned to the Isle of the Purple Towns, the fleet remaining in the largest harbour of Utkel since it was thought wise to have it at hand and not disperse it.
All that following night, Elric talked with the Sealords, ordered messengers to Vilmir and Ilmiora and, towards morning, there came a polite knock on the door of the room.
Kargan got up to open it and stared in astonishment at the tall, black-faced man who stood there.
«Sepiriz! » Elric cried. «How did you come here?»
«On horseback, » smiled the giant, «and you know the power of the Nihrain steeds. I had come to warn you. We have, at last, managed to contact the White Lords but they can do little as yet Somehow a path to their plane must be made through the barricades which Chaos has constructed against them. Jagreen Lern's ships have vomited their contents on the southern shores and his warriors swarm inland. There is nothing we can do now to stop his conquests there. Once consolidated, his Earthly power increased, he will be able to summon more and more allies from Chaos.»
Then where does my next task lie?» Elric asked softly.
«I am not sure yet. But that is not what I came for. Your blade's sojourn with its brothers has strengthened it. You may have noticed how swiftly it pours power into your body now?»
Elric nodded.
That power is evilly-gained and is evil in itself. The blade's strength will continue to increase and yours will, also. But, as Chaos-begotten power fills your being, you will have to fight, yet more strongly, to control the force within you.»
Elric sighed and grasped Sepiriz's arm.
Thanks for the warning, friend, but when I beat the Dukes of Hell, to whom I formerly pledged allegiance, I did not expect to escape with a mere scratch or a flesh-wound. Know this, Sepiriz, » he turned to the watching Sealords, «and know this all of you.»
He drew the groaning runeblade from its scabbard and held it aloft so that it shone and flared in its awful power.
This blade was forged by Chaos to conquer Chaos and not is my destiny, too. Though the world transmutes to boiling gas I shall live, now, I swear by the Balance of the Cosmos that Law shall triumph and New Age come to the Earth.»
Taken aback by this grim vow, the Sealords glanced at one another and Sepiriz smiled.
«Let us hope so, Elric, » he said. «Let us hope so.»
BOOK THREE
Sad Giant's Shield
One
Across the world the shadow of anarchy had fallen. Neither god, nor man, nor that which ruled both could clearly read the future and see the fate of Earth as the Forces of Chaos increased their strength through the machinations of their human minions.
From Westland mountain, over the agitated ocean to Southland plain. Chaos now held its monstrous sway. Tormented, miserable, unable to hope any longer for liberation from the corroding, warping influence of Chaos, the remnants of races fled over the two continents already fallen to the human minions of Disorder, led by their warped Theocrat Jagreen Lern of Pan Tang, aquiline, high-shouldered and greedy for power, in his glowing scarlet armour, controlling human vultures and supernatural creatures alike as he widened his black boundaries.
Upon the face of the Earth all was disruption and roaring anguish' save for the thinly populated, already threatened Eastern continent and the Isle of the Purple Towns, which now readied itself to withstand Jagreen Lern's initial onslaught. The on-rushing tide of Chaos must soon sweep the world unless some great force could be summoned to halt it Bleakly, bitterly, the few who still resisted Jagreen Lern, under the command of Elric of Melnibone, talked of strategy and tactics in the full knowledge that more than these were needed to beat back Jagreen Lern's unholy horde.
Desperately, Elric attempted to utilise the ancient sorcery of his emperor forefathers to contact the White Lords of Law; but he was unused to seeking such aid and, as well, the forces of Chaos were now so strong, that those of Law could no longer gain easy access to the Earth as they had contrived to do in earlier times.
As they prepared for the coming fight, Elric and his allies watt about the preparation with heavy Routs and a sense of the futility of such action. And, in the back of Elric's mind, was the constant knowledge that even if he won against Chaos, the very act of winning would destroy the world he knew and leave it ripe for the forces of Law to rule-and there would be no place in such a world for the wild albino sorcerer.
Beyond the earthly plane, in their bordering realms, the Lords of Chaos and of Law, watched the struggle and even they did not realise Elric's entire destiny.
Chaos triumphed. Chaos blocked the efforts of Law on each occasion they tried to pass through the domain of Chaos, now the only road to Earth. And the Lords of Law shared Elric’s frustration.
And, if Chaos and Law were observing the Earth and her struggle, who watched these? For Chaos and Law were but the twin weights in a balance and the hand that held the balance, though it rarely deigned to interfere in their struggle, still less in tile affairs of men, had reached the rare state of a decision to alter the status quo. Which weight would drop? Which rise? Could men decide? Could the Lords decide? Or could only the Cosmic Hand remould the pattern of the Earth, reforming her stuff, changing her spiritual constituents and placing her on a different path, a fresh course of destiny?
Perhaps all would play some part before the outcome was decided.
The great zodiac influencing the universe and its' Ages, had completed its twelve cycles and the cycles would soon begin again. The wheel would spin and, when it stopped its spinning, which symbol would dominate, how changed would it be?
Great movements, on the Earth and beyond it; great destinies were being shaped, great deeds were being planned and, marvellously, could it just be possible that in spite of the Lords of the Higher Worlds, in spite of the Cosmic Hand, in spite of the myriad supernatural denizens that swarmed the universe, that Man might decide the issue?
Even - one man?
One man, one sword, one destiny?
Elric of Melnibone sat hunched in his saddle, watching the warriors bustle to and fro around him in the city square of Bakshaan, here, years before he had conducted a siege against the city's leading merchant, tricked others and left rich. but such scores that they held against him were now forgotten, pushed from their minds by the threat of war and the knowledge that if Elric's command could not save them, nothing could. The walls of the city were being widened and heightened, warriors being trained in the use of unfamiliar war-engines. From being a lazy merchant city, Bakshaan had become a functional place, ready for battle when it came.