Teshwan was a Lord of Chaos.
Hastily Elric pulled his runesword Stormbringer from its thick scabbard.
The sword was dead.
Normally the blade, forged by unhuman smiths for Elric's royal ancestors, was alive with sentience-throbbing with the life force it had stolen from a hundred men and women whom Elric had slain. Once before it had been like this-in the Caverns of Chaos long ago.
Elric tightened his lips, then shrugged as he replaced the sword in its scabbard.
"In a world completely dominated by the Forces of Chaos, " he said, "I cannot rely on the powers which normally aid me in my sorcery. Thank Arioch I have a good supply of drugs about me, or I would indeed be doomed."
In earlier times Elric had relied on his soul-stealing runesword to give him the energy which, as an albino, he lacked intrinsically, but recently he had rediscovered a cleaner way of counteracting his deficiency, by taking herbs he had discovered in the Forest of Troos where many unlikely things grew, both flora and fauna.
"By my father's plague-infested bones, " he swore. "I must find a way off this granite plain and discover who, if anyone, rules in this world. I have heard of the powers invested in Teshwan's worshippers-and I seem to remember a hint of why the Lords of Chaos confer such peculiar talents upon them."
He shuddered.
He began to sing a ululating hate-song of old Melnibone. Elric's ancestors had been clever haters. And on he rode beneath the sunless sky.
He could not tell how much time had passed before he saw the figure standing out strongly against the featureless horizon.
Now on the flat waste of stone there were two points at which the monotony was broken.
Elric-white, black and scarlet on a grey gelding. The morose man, black hair lying like a coat of lacquer on his rounded skull, dressed in green, a silver sword dangling in his right hand.
Elric approached the man who raised his eyes to regard the albino.
"This is a lonely place, " said the stranger, sucking at his fleshy cheeks, and he stared at the ground again.
"True, " replied Elric halting his horse. "Is this your world or were you sent here, also?"
"Oh, it's my world, " said the man, without looking up. "Where are you bound?"
"For nowhere, seeking something. Where do you journey?"
"I-oh, I go to Kaneloon for the Rites, of course."
"All things, it is said, are possible in the World of Chaos, " Elric murmured, "and yet this place seems unusually barren."
The man looked up suddenly, and jerking his lips into a smile, laughed sharply.
"The Rites will alter that, stranger. Did you not know that this is the Time of The Change, when the Lords of Chaos rest before re-forming the world into a fresh variety of patterns?"
"I did not know that, " said Elric. "I have come here only recently."
"You wish to stay?"
"No."
"The Lords of Chaos are fickle. If you wished to stay they might not let you.
Now that you are resolved to leave, they might keep you here. Farewell. You will find me therein! " He lifted his sword and pointed. A great palace of greenstone appeared at once. The man vanished.
"This, at least, will save me from boredom, " Elric said philosophically, and rode towards the palace.
The many-pinnacled building towered above him, its highest points hazy and seeming to possess many forms, shifting as if blown by a wind. At the great arch of the entrance a huge giant, semi-transparent, with a red, scintillating skin,
blocked his way. Over the archway, as if hanging in the air above the giant's proud head, was the Symbol of Chaos, a circle which produced many arrows pointing in all directions.
"Who visits the Palace of Kaneloon at the Time of the Change?" enquired the giant in a voice like limbo's music.
"Your masters, I gather, know me-for they aided their servant Slorg in sending me hither. But tell them it is Elric of Melnibone, nonetheless-Elric, destroyer of dreaming Imrryr, kinslayer and outcast. They will know me."
The giant appeared to shrink, to solidify and then to drift in a red mist, pouring like sentient smoke away from the portal and into the palace. And where he had been a portcullis manifested itself to guard the palace in the giant's absence.
Elric waited patiently until at length the portcullis vanished and the giant reformed himself.
"My masters order me to inform you that you may enter but that, having once come to the Palace of Kaneloon , you may never leave save under certain conditions."
"Those conditions?"
"Of these they will tell you if you enter. Are you reckless-or will you stand pondering?"
"I'll avail myself of their generosity, " smiled Elric and spurred his nervous horse forward.
As he entered the courtyard, it appeared that the area within the palace was greater than that outside it. Not troubling to seek any mundane explanation for this phenomenon in a world dominated by the Lords of Chaos, Elric instead dismounted from his horse and walked for nearly a quarter of a mile until he reached the entrance of the main building. He climbed the steps swiftly and found himself in a vast hall which had walls of shifting flame.
In the glow from the fiery walls, there sat at a table at the far end of the hall nine men-or at least, men or not, they had assumed the form of men. Different in facial characteristics, they all had the same sardonic air. In the centre of these nine was the one who had first addressed Elric. He leaned forward and spoke words carefully from his red lips.
"Greetings to you, mortal, " he said. "You are the first for some time to sit with the Lords of Chaos at the Time of the Change. Behold-there are others who have had the privilege."
A rent appeared in the wall of flame to disclose some thirty frozen human figures, some men and some women. They were petrified in positions of many kinds, but all had madness and terror in their eyes-and they were still alive, Elric knew.
He lifted his head.
"I would not be so impertinent, my lords, as to set myself beside you all insofar as powers are concerned, but you know that I am Elric of Melnibone and that my race is old; my deficient blood is the royal blood of the Kings of the Dreaming City. I have little pity or sentiment of any kind within me, for sentiment, whether love or hate, has served me badly in the past. I do not know what you require of me, and I thank you for your hospitality nonetheless, but I believe that I can conduct myself better in most ways than can any other mortal."
"Let us hope so, Elric of Melnibone, for we would not wish you to fail, know that. Besides, you are not fully mortal as humans understand the word. Now, know you that I be Teshwan, and these need not be named and may be addressed singly or collectively by the name of Lords of Chaos."
Elric bowed politely. "Lord Teshwan-my Lords of Chaos."
They returned his bow by slightly inclining their heads and broadening a trifle their sardonic, crooked smiles.
"Come, " said Teshwan briskly, "sit here beside me and I will inform you of what we expect. You are more favoured than others have been, Elric, and, in truth, I welcomed the opportunity given me by my vengeful servant Slorg before he died."
Elric climbed upon the dais and seated himself in the chair which appeared beside Teshwan. About him the walls of flame soared and tumbled, mumbled and roared. Sometimes shadow engulfed them, sometimes they were bathed in light. For a while they all sat in silence, pondering.