II

Elric was surprised by how shallow the water was and he wondered by what means such a large vessel could come so close to the shore. Shoulder-deep in the sea he reached up to grasp the ebony rungs of the ladder. He had great difficulty heaving himself from the water and was further hampered by the swaying of the ship and the weight of his runesword, but eventually he had clambered awkwardly over the side and stood on the deck with the water running from his clothes to the timbers and his body shivering with cold. He looked about him. Shining, red-tinted mist clung about the ship’s dark yards and rigging, white mist spread itself over the roofs and sides of the two large cabins set fore and aft of the mast, and this mist was not of the same character as the mist beyond the ship. Elric, for a moment, had the fanciful notion that the mist traveled permanently wherever the ship traveled. He smiled to himself, putting the dreamlike quality of his experience down to lack of food and sleep. When the ship sailed into sunnier waters he would see it for the relatively ordinary vessel it was.

The blond warrior took Elric’s arm. The man was as tall as Elric and massively built. Within his helm he smiled, saying:

“Let us go below.”

They went to the cabin forward of the mast and the warrior drew back a sliding door, standing aside to let Elric enter first. Elric ducked his head and went into the warmth of the cabin. A lamp of red-gray glass gleamed, hanging from four silver chains attached to the roof, revealing several more bulky figures, fully dressed in a variety of armors, seated about a square and sturdy sea-table. All faces turned to regard Elric as he came in, followed by the blond warrior who said:

“This is he.”

One of the occupants of the cabin, who sat in the farthest corner and whose features were completely hidden by the shadow, nodded. “Aye,” he said. “That is he.”

“You know me, sir,” said Elric, seating himself at the end of the bench and removing his sodden leather cloak. The warrior nearest him passed him a metal cup of hot wine and Elric accepted it gratefully, sipping at the spiced liquid and marveling at how quickly it dispersed the chill within him.

“In a sense,” said the man in the shadows. His voice was sardonic and at the same time had a melancholy ring, and Elric was not offended, for the bitterness in the voice seemed directed more at the owner than at any he addressed.

The blond warrior seated himself opposite Elric. “I am Brut,” he said, “once of Lashmar, where my family still holds land, but it is many a year since I have been there.”

“From the Young Kingdoms, then?” said Elric.

“Aye. Once.”

“This ship journeys nowhere near those nations?” Elric asked.

“I believe it does not,” said Brut. “It is not so long, I think, since I myself came aboard. I was seeking Tanelorn, but found this craft, instead.”

“Tanelorn?” Elric smiled. “How many must seek that mythical place? Do you know of one called Rackhir, once a warrior priest of Phum? We adventured together quite recently. He left to look for Tanelorn.”

“I do not know him,” said Brut of Lashmar.

“And these waters,” said Elric, “do they lie far from the Young Kingdoms?”

“Very far,” said the man in the shadows.

“Are you from Elwher, perhaps?” asked Elric. “Or from any other of what we in the west call the Unmapped Kingdoms?”

“Most of our lands are not on your maps,” said the man in the shadows. And he laughed. Again Elric found that he was not offended. And he was not particularly troubled by the mysteries hinted at by the man in the shadows. Soldiers of fortune (as he deemed these men to be) were fond of their private jokes and references; it was usually all that united them save a common willingness to hire their swords to whomever could pay.

Outside the anchor was rattling and the ship rolled. Elric heard the yard being lowered and he heard the smack of the sail as it was unfurled. He wondered how they hoped to leave the bay with so little wind available. He noticed that the faces of the other warriors (where their faces were visible) had taken on a rather set look as the ship began to move. He looked from one grim, haunted face to another and he wondered if his own features bore the same cast.

“For where do we sail?” he asked.

Brut shrugged: “I know only that we had to stop to wait for you, Elric of Melnibonè.”

“You knew I would be there?”

The man in the shadows stirred and helped himself to more hot wine from the jug set into a hole in the center of the table. “You are the last one we need,” he said. “I was the first taken aboard. So far I have not regretted my decision to make the voyage.”

“Your name, sir?” Elric decided he would no longer be at that particular disadvantage.

“Oh, names? Names? I have so many. The one I favor is Erekosë. But I have been called Urlik Skarsol and John Daker and Ilian of Garathorm to my certain knowledge. Some would have me believe that I have been Elric Womanslayer....”

“Womanslayer? An unpleasant nickname. Who is this other Elric?”

“That I cannot completely answer,” said Erekosë. “But I share a name, it seems, with more than one aboard this ship. I, like Brut, sought Tanelorn and found myself here instead.”

“We have that in common,” said another. He was a black-skinned warrior, the tallest of the company, his features oddly enhanced by a scar running like an inverted V from his forehead and over both eyes, down his cheeks to his jawbones. “I was in a land called Ghaja-Ki, a most unpleasant, swampy place, filled with perverse and diseased life. I had heard of a city said to exist there and I thought it might be Tanelorn. It was not. And it was inhabited by a blue-skinned, hermaphroditic race who determined to cure me of what they considered my malformations of hue and sexuality. This scar you see was their work. The pain of their operation gave me strength to escape them and I ran naked into the swamps, floundering for many a mile until the swamp became a lake feeding a broad river over which hung black clouds of insects which set upon me hungrily. This ship appeared and I was more than glad to seek its sanctuary. I am Otto Blendker, once a scholar of Brunse, now a hireling sword for my sins.”

“This Brunse? Does it lie near Elwher?” said Elric. He had never heard of such a place, nor such an outlandish name, in the Young Kingdoms.

The black man shook his head. “I know naught of Elwher.”

“Then the world is a considerably larger place than I imagined,” said Elric.

“Indeed it is,” said Erekosë. “What would you say if I offered you the theory that the sea on which we sail spans more than one world?”

“I would be inclined to believe you.” Elric smiled. “I have studied such theories. More, I have experienced adventures in worlds other than my own.”

“It is a relief to hear it,” said Erekosë. “Not all on board this ship are willing to accept my theory.”

“I come closer to accepting it,” said Otto Blendker, “though I find it terrifying.”

“It is that,” agreed Erekosë. “More terrifying than you can imagine, friend Otto.”

Elric leaned across the table and helped himself to a further mug of wine. His clothes were already drying and physically he had a sense of well-being. “I’ll be glad to leave this misty shore behind.”

“The shore has been left already,” said Brut, “but as for the mist, it is ever with us. Mist appears to follow the ship-or else the ship creates the mist wherever it travels. It is rare that we see land at all and when we do see it, as we saw it today, it is usually obscured, like a reflection in a dull and buckled shield.”

“We sail on a supernatural sea,” said another, holding out a gloved hand for the jug. Elric passed it to him. “In Hasghan, where I come from, we have a legend of a Bewitched Sea. If a mariner finds himself sailing in those waters he may never return and will be lost for eternity.”

“Your legend contains at least some truth, I fear, Terndrik of Hasghan,” Brut said.

“How many warriors are on board?” Elric asked.

“Sixteen other than the Four,” said Erekosë. “Twenty in all. The crew numbers about ten and then there is the captain. You will see him soon, doubtless.”

“The Four? Who are they?”

Erekosë laughed. “You and I are two of them. The other two occupy the aft cabin. And if you wish to know why we are called the Four, you must ask the captain, though I warn you his answers are rarely satisfying.”

Elric realized that he was being pressed slightly to one side. “The ship makes good speed,” he said laconically, “considering how poor the wind was.”

“Excellent speed,” agreed Erekosë’. He rose from his corner, a broad-shouldered man with an ageless face bearing the evidence of considerable experience. He was handsome and he had plainly seen much conflict, for both his hands and his face were heavily scarred, though not disfigured. His eyes, though deep-set and dark, seemed of no particular color and yet were familiar to Elric. He felt that he might have seen those eyes in a dream once.

“Have we met before?” Elric asked him.

“Oh, possibly-or shall meet. What does it matter? Our fates are the same. We share an identical doom. And possibly we share more than that.”

“More? I hardly comprehend the first part of your statement.”

“Then it is for the best,” said Erekosë, inching past his comrades and emerging on the other side of the table. He laid a surprisingly gentle hand on Elric’s shoulder. “Come, we must seek audience with the captain. He expressed a wish to see you shortly after you came aboard.”

Elric nodded and rose. “This captain-what is his name?”

“He has none he will reveal to us,” said Erekosë. Together they emerged onto the deck. The mist was if anything thicker and of the same deathly whiteness, no longer tinted by the sun’s rays. It was hard to see to the far ends of the ship and for all that they were evidently moving rapidly, there was no hint of a wind. Yet it was warmer than Elric might have expected. He followed Erekosë forward to the cabin set under the deck on which one of the ship’s twin wheels stood, tended by a tall man in sea-coat and leggings of quilted deerskin who was so still as to resemble a statue. The red-haired steersman did not look around or down as they advanced toward the cabin, but Elric caught a glimpse of his face.

The door seemed built of some kind of smooth metal possessing a sheen almost like the healthy coat of an animal. It was reddish-brown and the most colorful thing Elric had so far seen on the ship. Erekosë knocked softly upon the door. “Captain,” he said. “Elric is here.”

“Enter,” said a voice at once melodious and distant.

The door opened. Rosy light flooded out, half-blinding Elric as he walked in. As his eyes adapted, he could see a very tall, pale-clad man standing upon a richly hued carpet in the middle of the cabin. Elric heard the door close and realized that Erekosë had not accompanied him inside.

“Are you refreshed, Elric?” said the captain.

“I am, sir, thanks to your wine.”

The captain’s features were no more human than were Elric’s. They were at once finer and more powerful than those of the Melnibonèan, yet bore a slight resemblance in that the eyes were inclined to taper, as did the face, toward the chin. The captain’s long hair fell to his shoulders in red-gold waves and was kept back from his brow by a circlet of blue jade. His body was clad in buff-colored tunic and hose and there were sandals of silver and silver-thread laced to his calves. Apart from his clothing, he was twin to the steersman Elric had recently seen.

“Will you have more wine?”

The captain moved toward a chest on the far side of the cabin, near the porthole, which was closed.

“Thank you,” said Elric. And now he realized why the eyes had not focused on him. The captain was blind.

For all that his movements were deft and assured, it was obvious that he could not see at all. He poured the wine from a silver jug into a silver cup and began to cross toward Elric, holding the cup out before him. Elric stepped forward and accepted it.

“I am grateful for your decision to join us,” said the captain. “I am much relieved, sir.”

“You are courteous,” said Elric, “though I must add that my decision was not difficult to make. I had nowhere else to go.”

“I understand that. It is why we put into shore when and where we did. You will find that all your companions were in a similar position before they, too, came aboard.”

“You appear to have considerable knowledge of the movements of many men,” said Elric. He held the wine untasted in his left hand.

“Many,” agreed the captain, “on many worlds. I understand that you are a person of culture, sir, so you will be aware of something of the nature of the sea upon which my ship sails.”

“I think so.”

“She sails between the worlds, for the most part-between the planes of a variety of aspects of the same world, to be a little more exact.” The captain hesitated, turning his blind face away from Elric. “Please know that I do not deliberately mystify you. There are some things I do not understand and other things which I may not completely reveal. It is a trust I have and I hope you feel you can respect it.”

“I have no reason as yet to do otherwise,” replied the albino. And he took a sip of the wine.

“I find myself with a fine company,” said the captain. “I hope that you continue to think it worthwhile honoring my trust when we reach our destination.”

“And what is that, Captain?”

“An island indigenous to these waters.”

“That must be a rarity.”

“Indeed, it is, and once undiscovered, uninhabited by those we must count our enemies. Now that they have found it and realize its power, we are in great danger.”

“We? You mean your race or those aboard your ship?”

The captain smiled. “I have no race, save myself. I speak, I suppose, of all humanity.”

“These enemies are not human, then?”

“No. They are inextricably involved in human affairs, but this fact has not instilled in them any loyalty to us. I use ‘humanity,’ of course, in its broader sense, to include yourself and myself.”

“I understood,” said Elric. “What is this folk called?”

“Many things,” said the captain. “Forgive me, but I cannot continue longer now. If you will ready yourself for battle I assure you that I will reveal more to you as soon as the time is right.”

Only when Elric stood again outside the reddish-brown door, watching Erekosë advancing up the deck through the mist, did the albino wonder if the captain had charmed him to the point where he had forgotten all common sense. Yet the blind man had impressed him and he had, after all, nothing better to do than to sail on to the island. He shrugged. He could always alter his decision if he discovered that those upon the island were not, in his opinion, enemies.

“Are you more mystified or less, Elric?” said Erekosë, smiling.

“More mystified in some ways, less in others,” Elric told him. “And, for some reason, I do not care.”

“Then you share the feeling of the whole company,” Erekosë told him.

It was only when Erekosë led him to the cabin aft of the mast that Elric realized he had not asked the captain what the significance of the Four might be.