The Dragon in the Sword by Michael Moorcock
It was at that point that a voice from above shouted triumphantly.
“The thieves are escaping. Capture them, quickly!”
And the whole hull seemed to come alive with men exposing the beams of dark lanterns and training them on von Bek, who was half over the rail, and on me where I hung helplessly, unable to go forward or back.
“We surrender!” cried von Bek lightly, making the best of it. “We’ll go back to our prison”
And Armiad’s answering hiss was full of malicious glee. “Oh no, you will not, good gentlemen. You must fall to the decks and break a few bones before we recapture you…”
“You’re a cold-hearted bastard as well as a mannerless parvenu,” said von Bek. He was loosening the knot holding the rope to the rail. Did he mean to kill me? Then he jumped, grabbed the rope just below me and yelled: “Hang on, Herr Daker!”
The rope fell free of the rail and we swung with enormous force towards the rigging, striking tarred ropes which cut our faces and hands but also shaking our enemies from their posts nearby. We began to scramble down.
But the whole hull was a-crawl with armed men and even as we set foot on a firm deck two or three sighted us and attacked at a run.
We rushed to the next balustrade and looked down. There was no way in which we could jump, nothing we could even hope to hang on to.
I heard a peculiar rattle from above and, looking up, saw to my complete astonishment a tall woman in bone-white armour sliding down a rope. She had a sword under her arm, a war-axe dangling from the thong on her wrist. She landed beside us and moved efficiently forward, slicing and carving apparently at the air.
What in fact she did to the Maaschanheemers I was never sure, but they seemed to collapse to the floor in small pieces. She signalled to us to follow her, which we did gratefully. Now we could see at least a dozen of the Ghost Women here and there on the ship—and wherever they had gone there were no Maaschanheemers to block our way.
I heard Armiad laughing. It was an unpleasant laugh. He seemed to be choking. “Farewell, you dogs. You deserve your fate. It is bound to be worse than anything I could conceive!” The Ghost Women now formed a sort of moving barrier around us as they moved swiftly through the ship, cutting all down before them.
Within moments von Bek and I were over the side and being borne by the women through the camp towards their own tents.
I knew that they had broken all the old laws of the Massing.
What could be so important to them that they were prepared to take such enormous risks? Without the Massing, they would be hard put to find more male slaves for their specific purposes. Their race must surely perish!
I heard von Bek say to me in a voice which shook: “I think we are their prisoners, my friend, rather than their guests. What on earth can their purpose be with us?”
One of the women said sternly: “Be silent. Our future and our very existence are now in question. We came to find you, not to fight those others. Now we must leave at once.”
“Leave?” I felt my stomach begin to turn. “Where are you taking us?”
“To Gheestenheem, of course.”
I heard von Bek utter one of his wild laughs. “Oh, this is too much for me. I’ve escaped Hitler’s torturers only to be someone’s Christmas goose. I trust you’ll find me tasty, ladies. I am rather leaner than either of us would like at present.”
They had carried us up to one of their slender white ships. Now we were bundled over the side. I could hear oars being unshipped.
“Well, von Bek,” I said to my friend. “At least we are to solve the mystery of Gheestenheem at first hand!”
I sat upright in the boat. Nobody restrained me as, supporting myself on a wooden seat, I got to my feet and looked out over black water.
Behind us were the fires and huge shadows of the Massing Ground. I was certain I would never see it again.
I turned to address the woman who had led the raid on the hull. “Why did you risk all you value? You can never attend another Massing, surely? I still do not know if I should be grateful to you or not!”
She was loosening her armour, unstrapping a visor plate. “You must judge that for yourself,” she said, “when we reach Gheestenheem.”
She removed her visor.
It was the woman I had seen earlier. As I stared at her beautiful features I remembered a dream I had had once. I had been speaking to Ermizhad. She had told me that she could not be eternally reincarnated, as I was, but that when her spirit came to inhabit another form, the form would always be the same. And she would always love me. I saw no recognition in this face, yet tears came to my eyes as I looked at her.
I said: “Is it you, Ermizhad?”
The woman regarded me in some surprise.
“My name is Alisaard,” she said. “Why are you weeping?”
BOOK TWO
Not unremembering we pass our exile from the starry ways
One timeless hour in time we caught from the long night of endless days.
With solemn gaiety the stars danced far withdrawn on elfin heights:
The lilac breathed amid the shade of green and blue and citron lights,
But yet the close enfolding night seemed on the phantom verge of things,
For our adoring hearts had turned within from all their wanderings:
For beauty called to beauty, and there thronged at the enchanter’s will
The vanished hours of love that burn within the Ever-living still.
And sweet eternal faces put the shadows of the earth to rout,
And faint and fragile as a moth your white hand fluttered and went out.
Oh, who am I who tower beside this goddess of the twilight air?
—‘A.E.’ (George Russell),
‘Aphrodite’
1
I REMEMBER LITTLE else of that voyage until dawn of the next day. Here the sun was rising, red, massive and insubstantial, wavering in watery haze and giving a kind of pink and scarlet glaze to the wide waves. There was a wind up, filling the white sail and the sun touched us also so that we were all of the same subtle colourings, blending with the ocean as we drove on towards the east.
Then, gradually, I made out something else ahead. It was as if the sea had thrown up a series of gigantic water-spouts. Then I realised this was not water, but light. Great columns of light plunging down from the sky and illuminating a vast area of water. Behind them were mist, foam and clouds. Within the area surrounded by the columns the water was calm.
Von Bek was in the prow, one hand on a taut rope, the other shielding his eyes. He was excited. There was fresh spray on his skin. He looked as if he had come alive again. I, too, was grateful for the salt water which had washed the oily grime from me.
“What a marvel of Nature!” von Bek exclaimed. “How do you think it’s formed, Daker?”
I shook my head. “My assumption is always that it is magic.” I began to laugh, realising the irony of my remark.
Shaking out her dark red hair, Alisaard came from below decks. “Ah,” she said seriously, “you have seen the Entrance.”
“Entrance?” said von Bek. “To what?”
“To Gheestenheem, of course.” She plainly found his naïveté charming. I felt an uncalled-for pang of jealousy. Why should this woman not favour whom she chose? She was not my Ermizhad. But it was hard to bear that in mind, the resemblance was so strong. She turned to me. “Did you sleep? Or did you weep all night, Prince Flamadin?” Her tone was one of amused sympathy. I found that I could not easily believe these women to be cruel slave-owners and cannibals. Nonetheless I felt I had to bear in mind my own experience, that often the most urbane, civilised and humane cultures have at least one aspect to them which, though ordinary in their eyes, may seem perfectly hideous to others. For all that, these women had the grace I associated with my own Eldren.
“Do you call yourselves ‘Ghost Women’?” I asked her, as much to have her attention as anything.
“No. But we’ve long s
“Then what do you call yourselves?” I asked, scarcely wanting to hear her answer.
“We are women of the Eldren race,” she said.
“And your people dwell in Gheestenheem?” My heart had begun to pound.
“The women,” she said. “They dwell in Gheestenheem.”
“Only the women? You have no men?”
“We have men, but we are separated from them. There was an exodus. The Eldren were driven from their original realm by human barbarians who called themselves the Mabden. We sought refuge elsewhere, but in seeking it we were parted. Thus we have perpetuated ourselves for many centuries by means of human males. We, however, may only bear girl children from such a union. It maintains our blood, but it is a distasteful process to us.”
“What becomes of the males when they’ve served your purpose?”
She laughed, flinging back her fine head so that the sun seemed to set her hair on fire. “You think we intend to fatten you for a feast, Prince Flamadin? You’ll have an answer to your question when we get to Gheestenheem!”
“Why did you risk so much in order to rescue us?”
“We had not intended to rescue you at all. We did not know you were in danger. We wanted to talk to you. Then, when we saw what was happening, we decided to help you.”
“So you came to capture me?”
“To talk. Would you rather we returned you to that smelly hull?”
I was quick to deny any desire to see the Frowning Shield ever again. “When do you intend to offer me an explanation?”
“When Gheestenheem is reached,” she said. “Look!”
The columns were high overhead now, though our ship had not yet reached them. The white ship was ablaze with reflected light. At first I had thought the columns white, too, like marble, but in fact they were alive with all the colours of the rainbow.
In the stern, the helmswomen leaned hard on their steering oars, moving the ship carefully between the columns.
“It’s dangerous to touch them,” Alisaard explained. “They could burn a ship like ours to ashes in seconds.”
Now I was half-blinded by the dazzling light. I received an impression of massive waves rising up around the base of the columns, of the ship being swept upwards, of us being hurled towards first one pillar of light and then another. But our crew were experienced. Suddenly we were through and bobbing gently on calm water in total silence. I looked upwards. It was as if I was in a massive tunnel which extended into infinity. I could see no end to it. There was an atmosphere of tranquility within it, however, which dispelled any terror I might have felt on entering it.
Von Bek was astounded. “It’s magnificent! Is this really magic?”
Alisaard said: “Are you as superstitious as those others, Count von Bek? I had assumed otherwise.”
“This goes beyond any training I had in science,” he told her with a smile. “What else could this be but magic?”
“We think of it as a perfectly natural phenomenon. It occurs whenever the dimensions of our realms intersect with another. A kind of vortex is formed. Through this, if one has sufficient reason or curiosity or courage, it is possible to reach the Realms of the Wheel. We have charts which tell us when and where such Entrances materialise, where they are likely to lead and so on. Since they are both regular and predictable, we would not define them as magical. Does the definition make sense to you?”
“Perfect sense, madam.” Von Bek raised his eyebrows. “Though whether I could convince even Albert Einstein of the existence of this tunnel, I am not sure.”
His references were meaningless to her, yet she smiled. There was no doubt that Alisaard found von Bek to her liking. With me she was much warier and I could not really understand why, unless she, too, believed the stories of my crimes and betrayals. Then it came to me! These women wanted Sharadim, my twin sister. Did they plan to offer me, a wanted outlaw, in return for her help? They were used, after all, to bartering males. Was I merely an item of currency?
But all these thoughts were driven from my mind as suddenly the ship began to whirl. We were flung back against the timbers as she spun round and round, never so rapidly as to fling us out, and then gradually began to lift into the air. It seemed that the tunnel was drawing us up, sucking us through into the next dimension! The ship tilted and I was convinced we would be hurled into the water, but somehow our gravity remained the same. Now we were sailing down the tunnel just as if we followed the swift current of a river. I half expected to see banks on either side, but there was nothing save the glittering rainbow colours. Again I found myself close to weeping, but this time for the beauty and the wonder of it.
“It is as if the rays of more than one sun have all been focused together,” said von Bek, coming to stand beside me. “I am curious to learn more of these Six Realms.”
“There are, as I understand it, dozens of differently constituted groupings in the multiverse,” I told him, “just as there are different kinds of stars and planets, obeying a variety of physical laws. To most of us on Earth these are not readily perceptible, that is all. Why that is so, I do not know. Sometimes I think our world is a kind of colony for an underdeveloped or crippled race, since so many others take the multiverse for granted.”
“I would happily live in a world where such sights as these are familiar,” said von Bek.
The ship continued to travel rapidly along the tunnel. I noticed, however, that the helmswomen remained alert. I wondered if there were some additional danger.
Then the ship began to turn again and to shift her position so that she seemed to be diving down into pitch darkness. The crew shouted back and forth to one another, preparing for something. Alisaard told us to hang on tightly to the sides. “And pray that we are come to Gheestenheem,” she said. “These tunnels are notorious for shifting their bearings and stranding travellers until the following revolution!”
The darkness was so complete I could see nothing of my companions. I felt a peculiar surging sensation, heard the timbers of the ship creak, and then, very slowly, light returned. We were bobbing on ordinary water again and were still surrounded by the bright columns, though these were fainter than when we had first seen them.
“Steer through! Steer through!” cried Alisaard.
The ship bucked and jerked forward, heading between the columns with the helmswomen throwing all their weight on the oars. Another wave and we were through, rushing on the crest, towards a distant shoreline which reminded me, for a vague reason I could not identify, of Dover’s chalky cliffs, topped with a lush and rolling green.
Here golden sunlight fell upon blue water. Little white clouds hung in a blue sky. I had almost forgotten the sheer pleasure of an ordinary summer landscape. It had been, I thought, several eternities since I had looked upon such sights. Not since my parting with Ermizhad, in fact.
“My God!” exclaimed von Bek. “It is England, surely? Or Ireland, perhaps?”
These words were without any meaning to Alisaard. She shook her head. “You are a compendium of alien names, Count von Bek. You must have travelled very widely, eh?”
At this he was forced to laugh. “Now you are the unwitting naïve one, good lady. I assure you my travels have been very tame compared to what you take for granted!”
“I suppose the unfamiliar always seems more exotic.” She was enjoying the breeze in her hair and had stripped off more of her ivory armour, as had the others, in order to feel the sun on her skin. “A gloomy world, the Maaschanheem. All that shallow water makes it so grey, I suppose.” She was looking ahead now. The cliffs were parted here and formed a great bay. Within the curve of the bay was a quay and behind that a town whose houses crowded upward
“There’s Barobanay!” Alisaard spoke in some relief. “We can be ourselves again. I hate these charades.” She rapped her knuckles on her ivory breastplate.
There were many other sailing ships of all types moored along Barobanay’s quaysides, but there was none like ours. I guessed that the white ships were part of the trappings which the “Ghost Women” used to keep other folk at a distance.
The ship tacked in, oars were shipped, ropes were swung out to young men and women who stood by to receive them and secure them to capstans. The women were clearly of Eldren blood while the men were equally obviously human. Neither sex seemed to possess the demeanour of slaves. I mentioned this to Alisaard.
“Save that they are not allowed certain specific rights,” she told me, “the men are happy enough.”
“You must have some who have wanted to escape, no matter how pleasant their lives?” said von Bek reasonably.
“First they must have the knowledge of our Entrance Tunnel,” said Alisaard as the boat bumped against the wall.
We watched as a gangplank was laid from ship to quay. Then Alisaard led the way onto dry land, into a little cobbled square and up a steep, winding lane to where, some distance from the shore, a tall, somewhat Gothic, house stood. It had the air of a civic building.
The sun was warm on our bodies as we took the final few steps up to the building.
“Our Council House,” said Alisaard. “A modest enough piece of architecture, but it is the hub of our government.”
“It has the unpretentious air of our old German town halls,” said von Bek with approval. “And,” he added, “it is considerably finer than anything we’ve experienced of late. Just think, Daker, what one of Armiad’s Binkeepers would make of a Council House like this!”
I could only agree with him.
Within, the place was cool and pleasant, full of sweet-smelling plants and flowers. The floor was marble, but fine rugs were scattered everywhere, and there was nothing chilled about the green obsidian of pillars and fireplaces. On the walls were tapestries, mostly non-representational, and the ceilings were painted with elaborate and exquisite designs. There was an air of quiet dignity about the place and I found it harder still to believe that these Eldren women planned to use me for barter.