Swords & Dark Magic: The New Sword and Sorcery

“Addric Heed was ever jealous of his father,” murmured Lady Fernrath. “For years he and his fellow Dukes of the Blood plotted to enslave the true Phoorn who were not Halflings like me. And when the time came, and their eyes were stolen, I lacked the courage or the character to resist. I saw the great runes cast and the great sorcery made and then the Phoorn were robbed of their eyes and forced into servitude. First they were harnessed to the ships and made to fly just above the water, guided by sharp goads. As they grew old and too feeble for that task, Addric Heed determined how he might have ships built around them, using their wings to drive those vessels at enormous speeds, terrifying and mystifying all they claimed as prey. I could do nothing but help my brother. He swore that if I did not, then he would torture my father to death. Thus I acted between him and the slave merchants of Hizss.”

“That is why Hizss is the only unfortified city along this coast,” murmured Elric in clear understanding. “Hizss did not defend herself because Addric Heed never attacked there. Indeed, he preferred only to prey on ships and left the well-armed cities alone as his dragon allies died, one by one. But his own father!” He spoke almost in admiration. “This is treachery even I could not match…”

Her smile was tragic, her voice sardonic. “Few could,” she said.

Elric watched the albino dragon as he returned, no longer bearing his son’s remains. He saw Hemric twisting and turning high above them, then diving to sail across the tops of the trees, and for a moment he envied the creature, his own ancestor, who had existed for as long as the bright empire of Melniboné, who had seen its birth and lived to learn of its end.

He looked around. The two priestesses stood a few steps back behind Elric and the others. They watched the old Phoorn’s flight in disbelieving wonder.

“We have to thank you, ladies, for your intervention,” said Elric. “But might I ask what price your patron asked for her help?”

The acolytes of Xiombarg exchanged glances. “It was something not strictly our right to offer her,” said one.

“But the needs of the moment seemed to dictate our agreement with her bargain.” Nauha stepped forward, the better to watch the wheeling dragon. “She knew it was in your house, Lady Fernrath. I knew it was your property…”

“It was all she would accept in exchange.” The other priestess seemed a little embarrassed. “That said, the Balance has been restored and Chaos brought to her rightful place in this plane’s grand cosmology! That was the will of Xiombarg. For as you serve Duke Arioch, my lord Elric, so we serve his cousin, his rival and his ally.”

“Ah,” said Lady Fernrath in quick understanding. “But it was already promised, I think. By me.”

“We had no choice.”

“It was, I take it, a white sword.” Suddenly weary, Fernrath glanced round her at all the destruction.

“Aye.” Moonglum was surprised she had guessed so easily. “There was nothing else Xiombarg would accept and time was pressing.”

They all seemed stunned by the next sound.

Even when Stormbringer was drawn and he was engaged upon his joyful work of destruction, Elric had never been heard to laugh in that particular way before.

THE DEIFICATION OF DAL BAMORE A Tale from Echo City Tim Lebbon

TIM LEBBON was born in London and lived in Devon until the age of eight. His first short story was published in 1994 in the indie magazine Psychotrope, and his first novel, Mesmer, appeared three years later, in 1997. Since then he has published over thirty books, including 2009’s The Island and The Map of Moments (with Christopher Golden). His dark fantasy novel, Dusk, which came out in 2007, won the August Derleth Award from the British Fantasy Society, and his novelization of the film 30 Days of Night was a New York Times bestseller. His new novel, Echo City Falls, is due out in 2010. A full-time writer since 2006, he now lives in Goytre, Monmouthshire, with his wife and two children.