RED PEARLS
An Elric Story
Michael Moorcock
For George Mann and G. H. Teed
Over the Edge
The sun, rimmed in copper now and bloated as if with blood, settled upon the horizon, casting long black shadows across the strangely made ship, the Silela Li. On deck, two priestesses of Xiombarg, in their elaborate quilted habits and glinting bronze crowns, stood at the ship’s rail, considering the view and listening to the distant hungry roar which greeted the coming of darkness with godlike glee. The women began to chant, performing their evening prayers, and it seemed to them that a great shadow in the form of a 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.”
“Aye. It’s as well so few believe the truth, for the reality would surely confuse them.” He spoke a little abstractedly, his mind on other matters.
“I am,” she said, “still confused.”
“The actuality will be demonstrated anon.” He was naked now, slim and muscular in all his strange, pale beauty. He picked up a pitcher and poured water into a bowl, washing languidly.
She, too, began to prepare for bed. Since she had thrown in her fate with Elric’s, the ennui to which she had become reconciled had disappeared. She felt it could never return now. Elric’s dreams rarely gave him a full night’s sleep, but even if the albino were to abandon her, she would never regret knowing him or, as she suspected, loving him. Kinslayer and traitor he might be, it had never mattered to her what he was or what she risked. Dark and light were inextricably combined in this strange half-human creature whose ancestors had ruled the world before her own race emerged from the mud of creation, whose terrible sword, now rolled in rough cloth and skin and stowed in the lower locker, seemed possessed of its own dark intelligence. She knew she should be afraid of it, as of him, and part of her reexperienced the horror she had already witnessed once, there in the forests of mysterious Soom, but the rest of her was drawn by curiosity to know more about the sword’s properties and the moody prince who carried it. He had warned her what kind of creature he was, yet she had insisted she come with him, leaving her own father and twin sister in Nassea-Tikri to accompany him, even though she abandoned all that was familiar and dear to her. Lying beside that hard, wonderful pale and vibrant body which already slept, she listened intently to the sounds of the ship and the sea. Timbers creaked and the thunder from the horizon grew louder. She sensed the galleon’s speed increasing, evidently borne on a rapid current. She had some notion of what to expect but longed to wake and question the albino. He continued to sleep, murmuring a little yet apparently at peace, and she could not rouse him. But was his apparent lack of concern feigned?
Faintly, from above, a deep-voiced bell sounded. The albino shivered, as if in response, still unwaking. The ship reared, rolling her against his body, reared once more, sending a vibrant shock through her. The Silela Li rocked, shuddered, her timbers moaning and straining as her hull dipped one way and then another, rolling from side to side so wildly that Nauha was forced to wrap her arms around her lover to steady herself. Elric moved as if to resist her, then woke for a moment. “Are we over?”
“Not yet.”
He closed his crimson eyes again. For a while they slept. Perhaps for hours, she could not tell.
Nauha awoke to a sense of the ship’s speed increasing. “Elric?”
She gasped as they were tossed cruelly about as if in a vast maelstrom. “Elric!”
Still he made no response. She wondered if he had died or lay in an enchantment, while, from the locker below, came a deep complaint from her lover’s sentient blade. The noise of the water grew into a deafening roar, drowning the grumblings of the black sword as the ship was borne at a steeper and steeper angle of descent:
Towards the edge of the world.
Strangers at Sea
Earlier, when Elric had told her where he was going and assured her he would leave her at the port from which she could return home, Nauha had asked him levelly if he were tired of her. “No,” he had said. “But I would not wish to put you at peril.”
She had no intention of parting from him. She had always wondered at the rumours concerning the doomed prince of ruins. Now she had the chance to discover at least a little of the truth. Moved as much by curiosity as by attraction to him, she gave herself up to the adventure as readily as she had given herself up to his urgent, alien body. Now she was ready to risk her life and her sanity, as she had been warned she must, to discover whatever lay beyond the edge of the world. The albino sorcerer had told her of the dangers, from which few voyagers ever returned. He had spoken quietly of all they might face. And then she had replied to him.
“While I care for life, my lord, I care not for life without risk or excitement.” She had laughed at his serious expression. Did she regret her decision now?
Still the ship gathered speed, trembling urgently from side to side. Every timber protesting, it dipped at an even steeper angle, rocking horribly, threatening to throw Nauha from the bunk. Again she clung to the albino. He murmured, “Cymoril,” and held her in those white arms with gentle strength. How could one so apparently sickly own such power? She moved against him. This was not the first time he had cried out the name of his betrothed, slain, albeit accidentally, by his own hand. In his sleep, he steadied her.
The ship bucked again. Now, suddenly, there was the sensation of falling, falling as the ship plunged over the edge, falling forever, it seemed, until with a massive crash, which made her feel every bone in her was smashed, the Silela Li struck an unyielding mass.
Nauha bit her lip. They had hit a reef. There could be no other explanation. The ship was breaking apart. The Silela Li moved rhythmically up and down as if in the grip of a monster. Nauha could no longer silence the long, full-throated scream which burst from her body. Certain that they were destroyed and were rapidly sinking, she reconciled herself for death, but Elric’s arms tightened a little more and, when she opened her eyes, she could see through the gloom that he was amused. Was this how he accepted their fate? Why was she reassured?
Then the water became strangely quiet. Were they sinking? The ship gentled into an easy forward motion. Elric closed his eyes. A faint smile touched his lips, as if he’d read her thoughts. Overhead she heard men’s urgent voices, full of relief, calling orders and responses. Suddenly Elric swung out of the bunk and began to unscrew the covers over the cabin’s only porthole, letting in silver light which made his body almost invisible to her. Cool, sweet air crept through the ship. Did she hear a seabird?
“Where are we?” Then she secretly cursed herself for her inanity. He did not answer but moved away from the porthole, becoming a shadow. Eventually he spoke. His voice was soft, his tone almost formally polite.
“We’re where you did not expect to be. On the underside of the world. Which the people who dwell here call the World Above. I’m not greatly experienced in this, but I think we had an easy transition. There are still several hours to dawn. Best sleep some more.” He touched her face, perhaps making a small spell, and she obeyed.
Later, dozing, she heard a tap at the cabin door and Moonglum called from the other side. Elric rose to answer, letting her cover herself before opening the door to the redheaded Elwherite, who stood there grinning, his arm around Cita Tine. She was pretty, with steady, daring eyes and a firm mouth. Moonglum had met her in the Steel Womb the night before they embarked. Cita Tine was short and sturdy, with a dancer’s figure and muscles. She had black hair and eyes, a dark skin typical of her people. She seemed most relieved of all. No doubt she too had expected to die as the ship fell. Now she breathed in the sweet, cool air blowing through the ship and she cocked her head merrily, hearing the oars being unshipped and thrust into choppy water. There came a snap as the wind took a sail. From somewhere came the smell of frying meat. Overhead a dozen voices called at once. Everyone aboard had an air of astonishment, of disbelief that they survived. Even Nauha’s moody lover was apparently more light-headed than usual as he made his excuses and called for warm water.
When they had bathed and dressed, Elric and Nauha joined the others in the big public gallery where passengers and ship’s officers took their meals. Besides the two priestesses and Elric’s party, there were six more passengers of the merchant class, more than a little shaken by their recent experience, exchanging excited descriptions of their night. Only one other was not evidently a merchant, for he sat a little apart from the rest, wrapped up in a dark red sea-cloak, as if against a cold only he experienced. Saturnine, incommunicative, he showed only a passing interest in his fellow passengers. Like most of the others, he was bound for fabled Hizss. The previous night, he had eaten quickly and retired. Moonglum had glanced at him once or twice, but Elric’s interest in mortals and their affairs was casual at best. He ignored the passenger as thoroughly as he did the rest, giving his attention only to Moonglum, who had a trick of amusing him, and to Princess Nauha, for whom he had an unusual regard.
“And so here we are!” Moonglum munched on his bread, looking out of the nearest porthole at the calm sea. “I owe you an apology, Prince Elric, for I did not wholly believe your assertions of another world beneath our own. But now it is demonstrated! Our plane is not flat but egg-shaped. And here we are alive to prove it! While I do not understand by what supernatural agency the ocean remains upon the surface of the egg, I have to accept that it does…”
A deep-throated laugh from one of the merchants. “And do your folk believe, as some of mine do, that there are other eggs, scattered across the ether, of all sizes, some of which resemble our own, Master Melnibonéan? With people dwelling on them, of commensurate dimensions, perhaps existing within other eggs, those eggs contained within still more eggs and so on?”
“Or perhaps,” smiled another, “you do not believe any of our worlds to be egg-shaped, and think they are instead round, like the nuts of the omerhav tree?”
Elric shrugged, sipping his own yellow breakfast wine and refusing to be drawn into their conversation. As usual, Moonglum was more gregarious and curious. “So some philosophers are convinced, I understand, amongst the intellectuals of my own country. Yet none has yet explained how the waters remain spread upon the surface of these worlds, nor indeed how ships sail on them or how we are able to stand upon the decks and not float like pollen into the air.”
The saturnine man raised his head, suddenly alert, but when neither Moonglum nor Elric elaborated, returned his attention to his food.
Cita Tine, the tavern girl, giggled. “My people have known of the sea passage between the two worlds for centuries. Our young men come to seek their fortunes here. We grew wealthy as a result of that knowledge and learned to build ships like this one, able to withstand the massive pressures on their hulls, and so we came to negotiate the passage.”
The captain, seated at the far end of the table, put a cautionary finger to his lips. “Best say no more, girl, or our secrets become common property. We’re rich only while most folk believe this side of the world to be legend.”
“But my companion here has been this way before,” declared Moonglum. “Which is why I was ready to take the risk of it. And swear that oath of silence, of course, before we set sail.”
“I was not aware, sir…” The captain raised an enquiring eyebrow at Elric. But the albino did not respond, merely dropping his gaze to look at his own pale hand gripping his wine cup. “What proposed your first visit, sir, if I might ask?” The captain made cheerful, casual conversation. “Trade? Curiosity?”
For the sake of his companions, Elric made some effort. “I have relatives here.”
He had, he thought, been unusually loquacious and egalitarian. The captain did not pursue his theme.
Later, as they took the fine air on deck, staring out over what seemed an infinity of rolling blue white-tipped water, Princess Nauha said to him: “I shall be curious to meet these relations. I had no idea Melnibonéans lived elsewhere than the Dragon Isle.”
“They are relatives,” he told her, “but they are not of Melniboné and never were. Nor wished to be.”
The ship sailed smoothly on, through unchanging weather, across that undisturbed ocean, beneath strange stars, and Elric, in the days that followed, grew increasingly taciturn. Even his friends, save Nauha, took to avoiding him.
On the fifth day of wide water, the focs’l lookout vigorously cried, “Land! Land ho!” bringing all the passengers but the saturnine merchant up on deck to follow the pointing hand to where a long shoreline was visible through light mist, soon more clearly revealing a series of deep, sandy beaches on which white waves broke. Behind the beaches rose dark green foliage, a dense forest, but no sign of settlements of any kind.
Moonglum speculated that possibly these woods were an extension of that jungle which they had lately left, wrapping itself across the world, but this was ignored, so he fell silent as the ship changed course to follow the new coast as she had followed the other.
“Shug Banatt,” replied one of the merchants when Moonglum asked what their first port of call would be. “A grim city where the captain has business. We should be there within a day. If of course the pirate slavers spare us.”
Moonglum had heard no previous talk of pirates or slavers. “Eh?”
The merchant was pleased with his affect. “They watch for ships coming in from the edge and prey on them. Some vessels are here by accident and make perfect victims. Because we anticipate attack, they are therefore unlikely to attack us.”
“Why do the folk of your home port say nothing of this?”
The merchant shrugged and grinned. “We can’t drive off trade, Sir Moonglum, can we? The captain’s share comes from the fees we charge passengers like yourself. But fear not. We watch for them and are prepared. We carry comparatively little cargo, mostly goods the slavers have no use for, while our money’s only of use to merchants like ourselves. They place no value on minted silver. Some say they find it unlucky.”
For the rest of the day, the ship held a steady course, following the coast. There was little wind but the water was calm, giving good purchase to their oars, allowing the rowers, all freemen, to keep steady time. Moonglum and his lady friend went below, as usual, while Elric and the princess remained on deck. She was grateful for the sweetness of the air, asking if he smelled the forest.
Elric smiled at this. “I have my own theory. This second world has fewer inhabitants. Therefore they expel less foul air…” He was not entirely serious. She left his side and went to stand on the foredeck, raising her head against the breeze, letting it lift her dark hair and sending it streaming behind her.
The albino stared landward, his thoughts in his past when, on a dreamquest, he had first found this world and a city and a people which welcomed him. Would he be welcomed again? he wondered. He could not recall whether he had originally come to this world in his past or his future. He stared at his bone-white hand. But his skin offered no clue to his age, then or now. He sighed, glad to be alone.
A great yell from above. Still on the foredeck, Princess Nauha echoed the lookout’s voice from the crow’s nest. Swiftly, over the horizon came a great, grey square sail. Two more. A fourth. But Elric’s interest was claimed by a lower, darker hull in the water, the other ships following it in rough formation. The hull had no sails, no oars, yet it slipped through the waves like a killer whale, a triangular shape rising from its slender deck like a dorsal fin. The long, sharp prow, crimson as blood, split the light waves, and several men stood leaning forward as it sped towards them. Never had Elric seen a ship move so quickly, darting like a fish.
“What kind of ship is that, captain? She moves like a living thing.”
The captain kept his eyes on the ships, answering from the corner of his mouth, his body tense as he readied himself to give orders. “First they had the dragons, two centuries or more ago, who raided with them and made them invulnerable. Then the dragons slowly disappeared and these strange, supernatural vessels replaced them. Now there is only one left, but so great is their power and so impregnable their White Fort, deep in that forest, that we cannot ever hope to resist them. We can only negotiate and pray they find it wasteful of their lives to fight us.”
Archers were already running to their positions around Elric. Others pulled canvas from the oiled wood of catapults. The stink of Chaos Fire filled his nostrils as braziers were lit. Black smoke gusted. From below, Moonglum, his twin swords sheathed on his hips, came running up the companionway. He carried something large and thoroughly wrapped in his hands and threw it towards Elric, glad to be rid of it. Elric caught it easily, stripping away the cloth and leather wrapping to reveal a heavy scabbard, a hilt with a pulsing dark jewel embedded in it. He attached the long sword to his belt. The sword moaned for a moment, perhaps anticipating a bloodletting, and then was silent.
“Pirates with a supernatural ship?” Moonglum murmured. “Will they attack, my lord?”
“Perhaps.” Elric glanced to where the princess, tying back her hair, approached. “My lady. You had best arm yourself.” She had her own blades below.
“They’ll fight?” she asked, turning to follow his suggestion.
“Best be ready for the worst.” He indicated the crew. “Just as they are.”
She went below and reappeared with slender sword and poignard.
A kind of gasp from the strange leading ship.
Followed by a loud hissing.
A cloud rose from around the central greyish dorsal. Clad in armour the colour of amber, pirate warriors crowded forward. Their long features, slightly slanted eyes peered out of their helmets. Moonglum gave a grunt of surprise.
“Melnibonéans!”
Elric said nothing but his left hand tightened on Stormbringer’s hilt.
The ship, still moving towards them without evident propulsion, was clearly visible to them now. With its high triple prow, its long, sleek decks and elaborately carved rails, it had only seemed smaller than the surrounding ships because it sat so low in the water. One tall man stood on the massive upper deck, his armour more intricate than the rest. His features declared his race, but the ship and armour, even the look of his weapons, had little in common with familiar Melnibonéan artefacts.
Slowly, the red hull hove to. The tall captain called out from his poop-deck. “Who are you and where are you bound?” Another great hissing sigh came from the oddly shaped dorsal, ribbed and faintly rosy with reflected light, in the middle-deck. “Quickly now!”
“We’re the Silela Li bound for Hizss, Selwing Aftra, and ports beyond,” replied the captain. “Carrying trade goods and passengers from the World Below.”
But the strange ship’s captain barely acknowledged him, staring straight at Elric and frowning. Elric stared back with equal hauteur.
Then, to Moonglum’s astonishment, the pirate captain spoke in High Melnibonéan, addressing the albino. Moonglum understood enough to recognise a different accent.
“You have come from Below? Where do you journey?”
Elric did not reply directly. “You must answer me first. Do you mean this ship harm?”
The amber-armoured captain shook his head slowly. “Not if you mean to sail on.” But he remained curious. He switched to Common Tongue, addressing the captain of the Silela Li. “We’re no threat to you or your ship. You’re bound for Apho and Selwing Aftra?”
“We are, my lord. And Shugg Banat before that. Then Hizss, where we shall take on provisions, make repairs, and give our men some rest before going on to the Snow Islands and sampling the warm water via the Silver Coast, then home again, with our gods’ will.”
“And stop at no other ports between Shugg Banat and Hizss?”
“We do not.”
“Then go in peace.” The pirate frowned, placing slender hands on his railing. He seemed strangely unsettled about his decision.
Moonglum was staring at the tall, pale triangle in the centre of the ship. Under his breath, he said: “I’ll swear that’s flesh…Those are scales. Some reptile. A harnessed monster.” Then the ship was backing, clouded air still hissing, obscuring the dorsal, giving out a not-unpleasant stink.
There was a dreadful, heavy stillness in the air, as if an attack might yet still come. All that could be heard was a creaking of timbers, the heavy slap of fabric in the wind, the sound of water lapping against oars. Moonglum thought he could just hear the sound of breathing.
“They believe our side to be the netherworld,” said the first mate, keeping his lips from moving too much. “But I believe that this place is Hell and we have just met one of Hell’s aristocrats.”
Elric and the pirate captain continued to stare at each other in fixed fascination until the two ships were far apart. Then, without comment, Elric returned to his cabin, leaving his companions on the upper deck.
“My lord has more relations here than he previously owned,” observed the princess dryly. “Has he spoken of that captain to you, Master Moonglum?”
Moonglum shook his head slowly.
“Is that why he is here?” she wondered.
“I think not.” Moonglum watched the archers unstringing their bows and replacing them, together with long quivers of arrows, in their oiled wooden cases.
Then, unbuckling his swords, he followed his friend below.