The Sleeping Sorceress Read Online Free PDF Page B

wine. Below this shelf were bread and some pasties and below that spices.
    Moonglum’s first action was to reach up on tiptoe and take down a jar of wine, removing the cork and sniffing the contents.
    He had smelled nothing more delicate or delicious in his life.
    He tasted the wine and he forgot his pain and his weariness. But he did not forget that Elric still waited in the hall.
    With his short sword he cut off a haunch of venison and tucked it under his arm. He selected some spices and put them into his belt pouch. Under his other arm he put the bread and in both hands he carried a jar of wine.
    He returned to the hall, put down his spoils and helped Elric drink from the jar.
    The strange wine worked almost instantly and Elric offered Moonglum a smile that had gratitude in it.
    “You are—a good friend—I wonder why . . .”
    Moonglum turned away with an embarrassed grunt. He began to prepare the meat which he intended to roast over the fire.
    He had never understood his friendship with the albino. It had always been a peculiar mixture of reserve and affection, a fine balance which both men were careful to maintain, even in situations of this kind.
    Elric, since his passion for Cymoril had resulted in her death and the destruction of the city he loved, had at all times feared bestowing any tender emotion on those he fell in with.
    He had run away from Shaarilla of the Dancing Mist, who had loved him dearly. He had fled from Queen Yishana of Jharkor, who had offered him her kingdom to rule, in spite of her subjects’ hatred of him. He disdained most company save Moonglum’s, and Moonglum, too, became quickly bored by anyone other than the crimson-eyed prince of Imrryr. Moonglum would die for Elric and he knew that Elric would risk any danger to save his friend. But was not this an unhealthy relationship? Would it not be better if they went their different ways? He could not bear the thought. It was as if they were part of the same entity—different aspects of the character of the same man.
    He could not understand why he should feel this. And he guessed that, if Elric had ever considered the question, the Melnibonéan would be equally hard put to find an answer.
    He contemplated all this as he roasted the meat before the fire, using his long sword as a spit.
    Meanwhile Elric took another draft of wine and began, almost visibly, to thaw out. His skin was still badly blistered by chilblains, but both men had escaped serious frostbite.
    They ate the venison in silence, glancing around the hall, puzzling over the non-appearance of the owner, yet too tired to care greatly where he was.
    Then they slept, having put fresh logs on the fire, and in the morning they were almost completely recovered from their ordeal in the snow.
    They breakfasted on cold venison and pasties and wine.
    Moonglum found a pot and heated water in it so that they might shave and wash and Elric found some salve in his pouch which they could put on their blisters.
    “I looked in the stables,” Moonglum said as he shaved with the razor he had taken from his own pouch. “But I found no horses. There are signs, however, that some beasts have been kept there recently.”
    “There is only one other way to travel,” Elric said. “There might be skis somewhere in the castle. It is the sort of thing you might expect to find, for there is snow in these parts for at least half the year. Skis would speed our progress back towards Iosaz. As would a map and a lodestone if we could find one.”
    Moonglum agreed. “I’ll search the upper levels.” He finished his shaving, wiped his razor and replaced it in his pouch.
    Elric got up. “I’ll go with you.”
    Through the empty rooms they wandered, but they found nothing.
    “No gear of any kind.” Elric frowned. “And yet there is a strong sense that the castle
is
inhabited—and evidence, too, of course.”
    They searched two more floors and there was not even dust in the rooms.
    “Well, perhaps we walk