Read Online The White Wolf's Son by Michael Moorcock - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Moorcock
Tags: Fantasy
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hadn’t remembered Lord Renyard’s instructions.
When I saw their faces, I was glad I hadn’t It was the mysterious visitor and the other man from the dreams, the Puritan with
the pale, gaunt head. Klosterheim. I suspected they were looking for me.
Soon we had reached the high walls of Mirenburg. It was a cold, rather alarming place. I gripped the fox’s paw still tighter
as he led me through unguarded gates, explaining where we were. “The larger, outer city we call, these days, the Shallow City.
But my people inhabit the core of the place. The quarter known as the Deep City. The Shallow City is ruled by the Sebastocrater,
descended from Byzantine knights. But I have little intercourse with them. They are very poorly educated, having forgotten
their old wisdom and skills. They never leave the city and certainly never venture underground, as I do.”
We walked through black, unlit streets and eventually came to a wide boulevard. A single globe of light, very dim at this
distance, lit this area of the city. The globe was seated on top of a monolith of black marble, block upon gigantic block,
ascending to cubes of basalt.
“The palace of the lower city’s Sebastocrater,” Lord Renyard murmured. “No threat to us.”
Many of the other buildings had the look of public offices or apartments of important officials. Only rarely did I see a yellow
light in a window. The buildings were high and close together. I was reminded of New York, except that this city was weirdly
silent, as if everything slept. The only time I’d been to New York, I’d been astonished at the noise of traffic and police
sirens going all night.
Lord Renyard seemed nervous, murmuring that this part of the city was not one he was familiar with. “Mine is the oldest quarter,
what most these days call the Thieves’ Quarter.”
“Thieves?”
“I am not an entirely respectable person,” he murmured, as if embarrassed. “Though I strived to educate and civilize myself
all my life, those amongst whom I am doomed to dwell still consider me a monster. Many are deeply conservative. Even their
religion is of a very old-fashioned kind. Only in that district, where no decent citizen will enter, can I find any kind of
rest.”
This sounded rather melodramatic to me. Personally I found a talking fox cool. My guess was that he’d be on every TV chat
show there was, if he moved to London. I meant to tell him this as soon as we arrived at his house. After all, if I could
travel so easily to his world, he could as easily come to mine.
The big buildings began to open out until we reached a wharf district on what was either a lake or a very wide river. The
horizon turned a faint pink as the sun began to rise. Black water glittered. Overhead the stars grew dim. Lord Renyard led
me down some watersteps, and then, amazingly, he led me up them again as the sun rose behindus and Mirenburg awoke and began to greet the morning. It was the same city we had just left, but utterly transformed!
Cocks crowing, dogs barking, maids calling from window to window, hawkers beginning to cry their wares, bells ringing, the
sounds of carts rolling over cobbles, the bustle of people everywhere. It was the people, however, who rather alarmed me,
not because they were sinister in any way, because they were not. They were fresh-faced, round-headed for the most part and
of a generally cheerful disposition. They were dressed like people out of another century. Spiral streets wound up towards
the town center, where a vast castle tottered. The smells convinced me that I had almost certainly gone back in time.
Now I really was beginning to worry. I blurted out my anxiety. “Lord Renyard, I don’t think you’re taking me back to my parents.
I’m beginning to be concerned about them. I really
do
need to get home.”
Lord Renyard paused. Ahead of us were lofty tenements which seemed to sway in a kind of dance. Even the chimney pots
When I saw their faces, I was glad I hadn’t It was the mysterious visitor and the other man from the dreams, the Puritan with
the pale, gaunt head. Klosterheim. I suspected they were looking for me.
Soon we had reached the high walls of Mirenburg. It was a cold, rather alarming place. I gripped the fox’s paw still tighter
as he led me through unguarded gates, explaining where we were. “The larger, outer city we call, these days, the Shallow City.
But my people inhabit the core of the place. The quarter known as the Deep City. The Shallow City is ruled by the Sebastocrater,
descended from Byzantine knights. But I have little intercourse with them. They are very poorly educated, having forgotten
their old wisdom and skills. They never leave the city and certainly never venture underground, as I do.”
We walked through black, unlit streets and eventually came to a wide boulevard. A single globe of light, very dim at this
distance, lit this area of the city. The globe was seated on top of a monolith of black marble, block upon gigantic block,
ascending to cubes of basalt.
“The palace of the lower city’s Sebastocrater,” Lord Renyard murmured. “No threat to us.”
Many of the other buildings had the look of public offices or apartments of important officials. Only rarely did I see a yellow
light in a window. The buildings were high and close together. I was reminded of New York, except that this city was weirdly
silent, as if everything slept. The only time I’d been to New York, I’d been astonished at the noise of traffic and police
sirens going all night.
Lord Renyard seemed nervous, murmuring that this part of the city was not one he was familiar with. “Mine is the oldest quarter,
what most these days call the Thieves’ Quarter.”
“Thieves?”
“I am not an entirely respectable person,” he murmured, as if embarrassed. “Though I strived to educate and civilize myself
all my life, those amongst whom I am doomed to dwell still consider me a monster. Many are deeply conservative. Even their
religion is of a very old-fashioned kind. Only in that district, where no decent citizen will enter, can I find any kind of
rest.”
This sounded rather melodramatic to me. Personally I found a talking fox cool. My guess was that he’d be on every TV chat
show there was, if he moved to London. I meant to tell him this as soon as we arrived at his house. After all, if I could
travel so easily to his world, he could as easily come to mine.
The big buildings began to open out until we reached a wharf district on what was either a lake or a very wide river. The
horizon turned a faint pink as the sun began to rise. Black water glittered. Overhead the stars grew dim. Lord Renyard led
me down some watersteps, and then, amazingly, he led me up them again as the sun rose behindus and Mirenburg awoke and began to greet the morning. It was the same city we had just left, but utterly transformed!
Cocks crowing, dogs barking, maids calling from window to window, hawkers beginning to cry their wares, bells ringing, the
sounds of carts rolling over cobbles, the bustle of people everywhere. It was the people, however, who rather alarmed me,
not because they were sinister in any way, because they were not. They were fresh-faced, round-headed for the most part and
of a generally cheerful disposition. They were dressed like people out of another century. Spiral streets wound up towards
the town center, where a vast castle tottered. The smells convinced me that I had almost certainly gone back in time.
Now I really was beginning to worry. I blurted out my anxiety. “Lord Renyard, I don’t think you’re taking me back to my parents.
I’m beginning to be concerned about them. I really
do
need to get home.”
Lord Renyard paused. Ahead of us were lofty tenements which seemed to sway in a kind of dance. Even the chimney pots
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