The Queen of Swords by Michael Moorcock

another.
    Then they continued on their way until they were less than a quarter of a mile from the shores of the lake.
    It was then that Corum paused, cocking his head on one side.
    “Do you hear them?” he asked.
    “I hear nothing,” Rhalina said.
    But Jhary nodded. “Aye—voices—as of a great throng heard in the distance. Voices…”
    “That is what I hear,” Corum agreed.
    And as they neared the lake, walking swiftly over the springy turf, the babble of voices increased until it filled their heads and they covered their ears in horror for they realized now why it would take courage to cross the Lake of Voices.
    The words—the murmurings, the pleadings, the oaths, the shouts, the crying, the laughter—they were all issuing from the blue waters of the apparently peaceful lake.
    It was the water that spoke.
    It was as if a million people had been drowned in it and continued to talk although their bodies had rotted and been dispersed by the liquid.
    Looking desperately about him, his hands still covering his ears, Corum saw that it would be impossible to try to skirt the Lake of Voices for it was apparent that on both sides of them there stretched marshland which they would be unable to cross.
    He forced himself to move closer to the water and the voices of the men and the women and the children were like the voices which must populate hell.
    “
Please…
”
    “
I wish—I wish—I wish…
”
    “
Nobody will…
”
    “
This agony…
”
    “
There is no peace…
”
    “
Why…?
”
    “
It was a lie. I was deceived…
”
    “
I, too, was deceived. I cannot…
”
    “
Aaaaaaa! Aaaaaaa! Aaaaaaa!
”
    “
Help me, I beg thee…
”
    “
Help me!
”
    “
Me!
”
    “
The fate which cannot be borne except with…
”
    “
Ha!
”
    “
Help…
”
    “
Be merciful…
”
    “
Save her—save her—save her…
”
    “
I suffer so much…
”
    “
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha…
”
    “
It seemed so splendid and there were lights all around…
”
    “
Beasts, beasts, beasts, beasts, beasts…
”
    “
The child… It was the child…
”
    “
All morning it wept until the lurching thing entered me…
”
    “
Soweth! Tebel art…
”
    “
Forlorn in Rendane I composed that strain…
”
    “
Peace…
”
    * * *
    And then Corum saw that a boat was waiting for them on the shore of the Lake of Voices.
    And he wondered if he would be sane by the time they reached the other side.

2
THE WHITE RIVER
    C ORUM AND J HARY hauled on the boat’s long oars while Rhalina lay sobbing in the bow. With every pull upon the oars the water was disturbed further and instead of a splashing sound a new babble of voices broke out. They sensed that the voices did not come from beneath the water but from within it—as if every single drop of water contained a human soul which expressed its pain and the terror of its situation. Corum could not help but wonder if every lake in existence were not like this and that this was the only one they could actually hear. He strove to shut his mind to such fearful speculation.
    “
Wish that…
”
    “
Would that…
”
    “
If I…
”
    “
Could I…
”
    “
Love—love—love…
”
    “
Sad soothing songs seeking souls so soft so sensitive seeming smooth silken…
”
    “Stop! Stop!” begged Rhalina, but the voices went on and Corum and Jhary pulled the harder on their oars, their lips moving in pain.
    “
I wish—I wish—I wish—I wish…
”
    “
Curl awake in kitten time the condemnation of my…
”
    “
Once—once—once…
”
    “
Help us!
”
    “
Release us!
”
    “
Give us peace! Peace!
”
    “
Please, peace, please, peace…
”
    “
Opening without resort…
”
    “
Cold…
”
    “
Cold…
”
    “
Cold…
”
    “We cannot help you!” Corum groaned. “There is nothing we can do!”
    Rhalina was screaming now.
    Only Jhary-a-Conel kept his lips tight shut, his eyes fixed on the middle distance, his body