bl.necroscope2-第33章

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lach　panions；　and　also　old　Arvos　of　the　Szgany。　Of　the　three；　it　seemed　to　be　the　stumpy　Wallach　who'd　survived：　the　one　who　was　all　chest　and　arms。　He　lay　crumpled　on　the　floor　where　stone　flags　had　been　laid　aside　to　reveal　black　soil　underneath。　His　body　seemed　badly　broken；　but　still　his　barrel　chest　rose　and　fell　with　some　regularity　and　one　of　his　arms　twitched　a　little。
　〃The　lucky　one；〃　said　the　Ferenczy；　his　voice　deep　as　a　pit。　〃Or　perhaps　unlucky；　depending　on　one's　point　of　view。　He　was　alive　when　my　children　took　me　to　him。〃
　Thibor　rattled　his　chains。　〃Was？　Man；　he's　alive　now！　Can't　you　see　him　moving？　See；　he　breathes！〃
　〃Oh；　yes！〃　the　Ferenczy　moved　closer；　in　that　soundless；　sinuous　way　of　his。　〃And　the　blood　surges　in　his　veins；　and　the　brain　in　his　broken　head　functions　and　thinks　frightened　thoughts…but　I　tell　you　he　is　not　alive。　Nor　is　he　truly　dead。　He　is　undead！〃　He　chuckled　as　at　some　obscene　joke。
　〃Alive；　undead？　Is　there　a　difference？〃　Thibor　yanked　viciously　on　his　chains。　How　he　would　love　to　wrap　them　round　the　other's　neck　and　squeeze　till　his　eyes　popped　out。
　〃The　difference　is　immortality。〃　His　tormentor　thrust　his　face　closer　yet。　〃Alive　he　was。　mortal；　undead　he　〃lives〃　forever。　Or　until　he　destroys　himself；　or　some　accident　does　the　job　for　him。　Ah；　but　to　live　forever；　eh；　Thibor　the　Wallach？　How　sweet　is　life；　eh？　But　would　you　believe　it　can　be　boring；　too？　No；　of　course　not；　for　you　have　not　known　the　ennui　of　the　centuries。　Women？　I　have　had　such　women！　And　food？〃　His　voice　took　on　a　slyness。　〃Ah！　Gobbets　you've　not　yet　dreamed　of。　And　yet　for　these　last　hundred…nay；　two　hundred…years；　all　of　these　things　have　bored　me。〃
　〃Bored　with　life；　are　you？〃　Thibor　ground　his　teeth；　put　every　last　effort　into　wrenching　his　chains'　staples　from　the　sweating　stone。　It　was　useless。　〃Only　set　me　free　and　I'll　put　an　end　to　your…uh！…boredom。〃
　The　Ferenczy　laughed　like　a　baying　hound。　〃You　will？　But　you　already　have；　my　son。　By　ing　here。　For；　you　see；　I　have　waited　for　one　just　such　as　you。　Bored？　Aye；　that　I　have　been。　And　indeed　you　are　the　cure；　but　it's　a　cure　we'll　apply　my　way。　You'd　slay　me；　eh？　Do　you　really　think　so？　Oh；　I've　my　share　of　fighting　to　e；　but　not　with　you。　What？　I　should　fight　with　my　own　son？　Never！　No；　I'll　go　forth　and　fight　and　kill　like　none　before　me！　And　I'll　lust　and　love　like　twenty　men；　and　none　shall　say　me　nay！　And　I'll　do　it　all　to　the　ends　of　the　earth；　to　such　excess　that　my　name　shall　live　forever；　or　be　stricken　forever　from　man's　history！　For　what　else　can　I　do　with　passions　such　as　mine；　a　creature　such　as　I　am；　condemned　to　life？〃
　〃You　speak　in　riddles；〃　Thibor　spat　on　the　floor。　〃You're　a　madman；　crazed　by　your　lonely　life　up　here　with　nothing　but　wolves　for　pany。　I　can't　see　why　the　VIad　fears　you；　one　madman　on　his　own。　But　I　can　see　why　he'd　want　you　dead。　You　are。。。　loathsome！　A　blemish　on　mankind。　Misshapen；　split…tongued；　insane：　death's　the　best　thing　for　you。　Or　locked　up　where　natural　men　won't　have　to　look　at　you！〃
　The　Ferenczy　drew　back　a　little；　almost　as　if　he　were　surprised　at　Thibor's　vehemence。　He　hung　his　lantern　from　a　bracket；　seated　himself　on　a　stone　bench。　〃Natural　men；　did　you　say？　Do　you　talk　to　me　of　nature？　Ah；　but　there's　more　in　nature　than　meets　the　eye；　my　son！　Indeed　there　is。　And　you　think　that　I'm　unnatural；　eh？　Well；　the　Wamphyri　are　rare；　be　sure；　but　so　is　the　sabre…tooth。　Why；　I　haven't　seen　a　mountain　cat　with　teeth　like　scythes　in。。。　three　hundred　years！　Perhaps　they　are　no　more。　Perhaps　men　have　hunted　them　down　to　the　last。　Aye；　and　it　may　be　that　one　day　the　Wamphyri　shall　be　no　more。　But　if　that　day　should　ever　e；　believe　me　it　shall　not　be　the　fault　of　Faethor　Ferenczy。　No；　and　it　shall　not　be　yours。〃
　〃More　riddles…meaningless　mouthings…madness！〃　Thibor　spat　the　words　out。　He　was　helpless　and　he　knew　it。　If　this　monstrous　being　wished　him　dead；　then　he　was　as　good　as　dead。　And　it　was　no　use　to　reason　with　a　madman。　Where　is　the　reason　in　a　madman？　Better　to　insult　him　face　to　face；　enrage　him　and　get　it　over　with。　It　would　be　no　pleasant　thing　to　hang　here　and　rot；　and　watch　maggots　crawling　in　the　flesh　of　men　he'd　called　his　rades。
　〃Are　you　finished？〃　the　Ferenczy　asked　in　his　deepest　voice。　〃Best　to　be　done　now　with　all　hurtful　ranting；　for　I've　much　to　tell　you；　much　to　show　you；　great　knowledge　and　even　greater　skills　to　impart。　I'm　weary　of　this　place；　you　see；　but　it　needs　a　keeper。　When　I　go　out　into　the　world；　someone　must　stay　here　to　keep　this　place　for　me。　Someone　strong　as　I　myself。　It　is　my　place　and　these　are　my　mountains；　my　lands。　One　day　I　may　wish　to　return。　When　I　do；　then　I　shall　find　a　Ferenczy　here。　Which　is　why　I　call　you　my　son。　Here　and　now　I　adopt　you；　Thibor　of　Wallachia。　Henceforth　you　are　Thibor　Ferenczy。　I　give　you　my　name；　and　I　give　you　my　banner：　the　devil's　head！　Oh；　I　know　these　honours　tower　above　you；　I　know　you　do　not　yet　have　my　strength。　But　I　shall　give　it　to　you！　I　shall　bestow　upon　you　the　greatest　honour；　a　magnificent　mystery。　And　when　you　are　bee　Wamphyri；　then　…〃
　〃Your　name？〃　Thibor　growled。　〃I　don't　want　your　name。
　I　spit　on　your　name！〃　He　shook　his　head　wildly。　〃As　for　your　device：　I've　a　banner　of　my　own。〃
　〃Ah？〃　the　creature　stood　up；　flowed　closer。　〃And　what　are　your　signs？〃
　〃A　bat　of　the　Wallachian　plain；〃　Thibor　answered；　〃astride　the　Christian　dragon。〃
　The　Ferenczy's　bottom　jaw　fell　open。　〃But　that　is　most　propitious。　A　bat；　you　say？　Excellent！　And　riding　the　dragon　of　the　Christians？　Better　still！　And　now　a　third　device：　let　Shaitan　himself　surmount　both。〃
　〃I　don't　need　your　blood…spewing　devil。〃　Thibor　shook　his　head　and　scowled。
　The　Ferenczy　smiled　a　slow；　sinister　smile。　〃Oh；　but　you　will；　you　will。〃　Then　he　laughed　out　loud。　〃Aye；　and　I　shall　avail　myself　of　your　symbols。　When　I　go　out　across　the　world　I　shall　fly　devil；　bat；　and　dragon　all　three。　There；　see　how　I　honour　you！　Henceforth　we　carry　the　same　banner。〃
　Thibor　narrowed　his　eyes。　〃Faethor　Ferenczy；　you　play　with　me　as　a　cat　plays　with　a　mouse。　Why？　You　call　me　your　son；　offer　me　your　name；　your　sigils。　Yet　here　I　hang　in　chains；　with　one　friend　dead　and　another　dying　at　my　feet。　Say　it　now；　you　are　a　madman　and　I'm　your　next　victim。　Isn't　it　so？〃
　The　other　shook　his　wolfish　head。　〃So　little　faith；〃　he　rumbled；　almost　sadly。　〃But　we　shall　see；　we　shall　see。　Now　tell　me；　what　do　you　know　of　the　Wamphyri？〃
　〃Nothing。　Or　very　little。　A　legend；　a　myth。　Freakish　men　who　hide　in　remote　places　and　spring　out　on　peasants　and　small　children　to　frighten　them。　Occasionally　dangerous：　murderers；　vampires；　who　suck　blood　in　the　night　and　swear　it　gives　them　strength。　〃Viesczy〃；　to　the　Russian　peasant；　〃Obour〃；　to　the　Bulgar；　〃Vrykoulakas〃　in　Greek…land。　They　are　names　which　demented　men　attach　to　themselves。　But　there　is　something　mon　to　them　in　all　tongues：　they　are　liars　and　madmen！〃
　〃You　do　not　believe？　You　have　looked　upon　me；　seen　the　wolves　which　I　mand；　the　terror　I　excite　in　the　hearts　of　the　VIad　and　his　priests；　but　you　do　not　believe。〃
　〃I've　said　it　before　and　I'll　say　it　again；〃　Thibor　gave　his　chains　a　last；　frustrated　jerk。　〃The　men　I've　killed　have　all　stayed　dead！　No；　I　do　not　believe。〃
　The　other　gazed　at　his　prisoner　with　burning　eyes。　〃That　is　the　difference　between　us；〃　he　said。　〃For　the　men　I　kill；　if　it　pleases　me　to　kill　them　in　a　certain　way；　do　not　stay　dead。　They　bee　undead。。。〃　He　stood　up；　stepped　flowingly　close。　His　upper　lip　curled　back　at　one　side；　displayed　a　downward　curving　fang　like　a　needle…sharp　tusk。　Thibor　looked　away；　avoided　the　man's　breath；　which　was　like　poison。　And　suddenly　the　Wallach　felt　weak；　hungry；　thirsty。　He　was　sure　he　could　sleep　for　a　week。
　〃How　long　have　I　been　here？〃　he　asked。
　〃Four　days。〃　The　Ferenczy　began　to　pace　to　and　fro。　〃Four　nights　gone　you　climbed　the　narrow　way。　Your　friends　were　unfortunate；　you　remember？　I　fed　you；　gave　you　wine；　alas；　you　found　my　wine　a　little　strong！　Then；　while　you；　er；　rested；　my　familiar　creatures　took　me　to　the　fallen　ones　where　they　lay。　Faithful　old　Arvos；　he　was　dead。　Likewise　your　scrawny　Wallach　rade；　broken　by　sharp　boulders。　My　children　wanted　the