The Queen of Swords by Michael Moorcock

Author:Michael Moorcock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan

3

BEASTS OF THE ABYSS

NOW THE WHITE River foamed wildly and roared as it rushed over the brink. Corum and Jhary dragged the oars free and used them to steer the rocking boat towards the bank.

“Be ready to jump, Rhalina!” Corum yelled.

She stood upright, holding on to the mast. King Noreg-Dan steadied her.

The boat danced out into midstream again and then, as suddenly, swerved back towards the bank as another current caught it. Corum staggered and almost fell overboard as he manipulated the oar. The sound of the torrent almost drowned their voices. The abyss was much closer and it would not be much longer before they were all hurled over it. Dimly, through the spray, Corum saw the distant wall of the far cliff. It must have been a mile away at least.

Then the boat scraped the bank and Corum yelled, “Jump, Rhalina!”

And she jumped with Noreg-Dan leaping after her, his arms waving. She landed in the blood-dust and fell, sprawling.

Jhary jumped next. But the boat was turning out into the centre of the river again. He landed in the shallows and struggled towards the bank, shouting at Corum.

Corum remembered Noreg-Dan’s warning about the properties of the white liquid, but there was nothing for it but to leap in, his mouth tight shut, and flounder for the bank, his armour dragging him down.

But the weight of the armour fought the current and his feet touched the bottom. Shuddering he climbed to the land, white droplets of liquid oozing down his body.

He lay panting on the bank and watched as the boat reared on the edge of the abyss and then fell from sight.

* * *

They staggered away from the White River, following the edge of the gorge, ankle-deep in the brown dust, and when the roar of the torrent had grown fainter they paused and tried to assess their situation.

The abyss seemed endless. It stretched to both horizons, its edges straight and its sides sheer. It was plain that it had not been created naturally. It was as if some gigantic canal had been planned to flow between the cliffs—a mile-wide canal, a mile deep.

They stood on the brink and looked down into the abyss. Corum felt vertigo seize him and he took a step backwards. The sides of the cliff were of the same dark obsidian as the mountains they had left earlier, but these sides were utterly smooth. Far, far below a yellowish vapour writhed, obscuring the bottom—if any bottom there were. The four people felt completely dwarfed by the vastness of the scene. They looked backwards across the Blood Plain. It was featureless, endless. They tried to make out details of the opposite cliff, but it was too distant.

A faint mist obscured the sun which still stood at noon above them.

The little figures began to tramp along the edge, through the blood-dust, away from the White River.

Eventually Corum spoke to Noreg-Dan. “Have you heard of this place before, King Noreg-Dan?”

He shook his head. “I never knew what really lay beyond the Blood Plain, but I did not expect this.

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