"Eternal Champion - 01 - The Eternal Champion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

knew only a few words of Sioux.

Erekose . . . Erekose . . . Erekose

Each night I redoubled my efforts to concentrate on the voices and gradually I
began to experience much stronger hypnagogic hallucinations, until one night it
seemed that I broke free from my body altogether.


* * *


Had I hung for an eternity in limbo? Was I alive-dead? Was there a memory of a
world that lay in the far past or the distant future? Of another world which
seemed closer? And the names? Was I John Daker or Erekose? Was I either of
these? Many other names-Corom Bannan Flurrun, Aubec, Elric, Rackhir, Simon,
Cornelius, Asquinol, Hawkmoon-fled away down the ghostly rivers of my memory. I
hung in darkness, bodiless. A man spoke. Where was he? I tried to look but had
no eyes with which to see . . .


* * *


'Erekose the Champion, where are you?'

Another voice: 'Father . . . it is only a legend . . .'

'No, lolinda. I feel he is listening. Erekose . . .'



I tried to answer, but I had no tongue with which to speak.

Then there were swirling half-dreams of a house in a great city of miracles-a
swollen, grimy city of miracles, crammed with dull-coloured machines, many of
which bore human passengers. There were buildings, beautiful beneath their
coatings of dust, and there were other, brighter buildings not so beautiful,
with austere lines and many windows. There were screams and loud noises.

There was a troop of riders galloping over an undulating countryside, flamboyant
in armour of lacquered gold, coloured pennants draped around their blood-
encrusted lances. Their faces were heavy with weariness.

Then there were more faces, many faces. Some of them I half-recognised. Others
were completely unfamiliar. Many of these were dressed in strange clothes. I saw
a white-haired man in middle age. He wore a tall, spiked crown of iron and
diamonds upon his head. His mouth moved. He was speaking. . .

'Erekose. It is I-King Rigenos, Defender of Humanity . . .