The Dragon in the Sword by Michael Moorcock Read Free Book Online Page A

you call me?”
    “Oh, your highness!” he simpered. “But you are Prince Flamadin, Chosen Lord of the Valadek, and a hero throughout the Six Realms of the Wheel!”
    It seemed I had learned my name at last. And once again, I feared, more was expected of me than I cared or desired.
    Von Bek was sardonic. “You hid this great secret from me, also, Prince Flamadin.”
    I had already explained to him my circumstances. I glared at him.
    “Now, good gentlemen, you must be my guests at a feast I have had prepared for you,” said Baron Captain Armiad, pointing with his skull-cap to the far end of the hall, one wall of which was slowly rising up to reveal a brilliantly lit room in which was set a great oaken table already covered in a variety of hideous-looking food.
    Again I avoided von Bek’s eye and prayed that it would be possible, somehow, to find at least a morsel or two that was to some degree palatable.
    “I understand, good gentlemen,” said Armiad as he led the way to our seats, “that you have chosen to take passage on our hull and that you journey to the Massing.”
    Since I was more than curious to discover the nature of this Massing I nodded gravely.
    “I must take it that you are upon a fresh adventure,” said Armiad. His huge hat waved dangerously as he seated himself beside me. Although not quite as obnoxious, his smell was not greatly different from his hirelings.
    I knew that this was a man who not only disdained good manners as a rule but was scarcely familiar with the ordinary rituals involved. Moreover I believed that, if he did not think it served his purposes much better to entertain us as guests, he would as cheerfully have slit out throats and fed our corpses to his bins and boilers. I felt relieved that he had recognised me for this Prince Flamadin (or had mistaken me for him!) and resolved to accept as little of his hospitality as possible.
    As we ate I asked him how long he thought it would take before we reached the Massing.
    “Another two days, no more. Why, good sir, are you anxious to be there before all are assembled? If so, we can increase speed. A simple matter of mechanical adjustments and fuel consumption…”
    I shook my head hastily. “Two days is excellent. And does everyone attend this Massing?”
    “Representatives of all Six Realms, as you know, your highness. I cannot speak, of course, for any unusual visitors to our Massing. We have held it, as you know, in the Maaschanheem whether the Realms come together or not. Every year, since the Armistice, when the Wars between the Hulls were finally resolved. There will be many coming, all under truce, naturally. Even marsh vermin, those horrid renegades without hull or anchorage, could come and not go to the bins. Yes, there will be a fine company, all in all, your highness. And I shall make sure you have a vantage place amongst the most privileged hulls. None would dare refuse you. The
Frowning Shield
is yours!”
    “I am greatly obliged to you, Baron Captain.”
    Servants came and went, putting dreadful dishes under our noses and these, it seemed, it was politic to refuse for none seemed angered. I noted that, like me, von Bek was making do with a salad of relatively tasty marsh-plants.
    Von Bek spoke for the first time. “Forgive me, Baron Captain. As his highness has no doubt indicated, I have a condition which has robbed me of much of my memory. What other realms than this one do you speak of?”
    I admired his directness and his method of explaining himself so that I should not be embarrassed.
    “As his highness knows,” said Armiad with barely restrained impatience, “we are Six Realms, the Realms of the Wheel. There is Maaschanheem, which is this Realm. There is Draachenheem, which is where Prince Flamadin rules (when not adventuring elsewhere!),” a nod to me, “and Gheestenheem, Realm of the Cannibal Ghost Women. The other three Realms are Barganheem, claimed by the mysterious Ursine Princes, Fluugensheem, whose