Swords & Dark Magic - By Jonathan Strahan Page 0,75
woman, the shape preferred by their deity, appeared in the sky overhead. As they completed their ritual, two men came up from the passenger quarters below. One was short, with a shock of startling red hair, a ruddy complexion, large blue eyes, and a wide, smiling mouth. He wore a thick padded jacket and deerskin britches tucked into soft boots. His tall companion was clad in black, silk and leather, hair the colour of milk, skin pale as the thinnest bleached linen. His long head with its tapering ears and slightly slanting brows was as remarkable as his sharp, glittering ruby-coloured eyes. Like his companion, he was unarmed. The women, lowering their hands, completed their ceremonies and turned, surprised to see the men, who bowed politely. The priestesses acknowledged the two and passed down the companionway, returning to their cabin below decks. The men replaced the women at the rail of the Silela Li. The disc of the sun was halfway below the water now, its light cutting a red road across the sea.
The tall man was well known in the North and West. He was Elric, sometimes called Kinslayer, former emperor of Melniboné, until lately the dominant power in the world; the short man was Moonglum of Elwher in the so-called unmapp’d East. They had been travelling companions for some time and had shared several adventures. Most recently, they had come from Nassea-Tikri, where they had found two more people who had complicated reasons for joining them but this evening had elected to stay below.
Moonglum grinned after the disappearing priestesses. “Xiombarg’s worshippers seem a little more comely in this part of the world. I’m beginning to regret that decision I made in the tavern.”
A faint smile from his friend. “I’m too closely bound to Xiombarg’s fellow Chaos Lord to wish any further entanglement with the Dukes and Duchesses of Entropy. And, if my knowledge of their beliefs is correct, I think you’ll find those two aren’t interested in sharing themselves with anyone but their patron and each other.”
“Ah.” Moonglum regarded the empty companionway with disappointment. “Elric, my friend, sometimes I wish you would not share your knowledge so freely with me.”
“I assure you, I’m sharing very little.” The albino dropped his gaze to inspect the lapping waters below.
Now the sun was almost gone, but the distant roar was somewhat louder, as if in triumph. And then the sun went down, leaving the ship in a grey-gold twilight. A strong wind blew suddenly, filling the ship’s enormous blue sails, and the oarsmen below rested their long oars. Unusually, they took the oars fully into the body of the ship. The two men heard the sound of wood banging against wood, of metal being drawn against metal as the rowlocks were firmly shut.
At this, both men reluctantly left the deck and descended the companionway to where their cabins were located. In the gangway they met the captain’s first officer, Ghatan, who saluted politely. “Make sure all’s watertight within your cabins, masters. We’ll be going over a couple of hours after moonrise. A bell will be sounded in the morning, when it’s safe to unbatten.”
“If we still live,” Moonglum muttered cheerfully.
The mate grinned back at him. “Indeed! Good night, masters. With luck you’ll wake in the World Above.”
Wishing them both good night, Elric entered his quarters. From overhead came a series of heavy thumps and the sound of rattling chains as the ship was tightened against the water.
His cabin was filled with a deep orange light emanating from a lantern hanging from the centre of the low ceiling. It showed a seated woman frowning over a small scroll. She looked up and smiled as the albino entered. Extremely beautiful, she was the black-haired Princess Nauhaduar of Uyt, who, these days, called herself simply Nauha. Her large, dark eyes reflected the light. Her lips were slightly parted in an intelligent smile. “So we have passed the point of no return, my lord.”
“It seems so.” Elric began to strip off his shirt, moving towards their wide bunk piled with quilts and furs. “Perhaps we’d do well to sleep now, before the real noise begins. Too late for you to consider returning to Uyt.”
She shrugged, replacing the scroll in its tubular case. “Never would I wish to miss this experience, my lord. After all, until you convinced me otherwise I shared the common view of our world as dish-shaped. I believed all other descriptions to be mere fool’s tales.”