bl.necroscope2-第7章

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but　safe；　too；　and　there　was　much　to　be　said　for　safety。
　Safe　from　the　men…mere　men；　most　of　them…who　had　put　him　here。　For　in　his　dreaming　the　wizened　Thing　had　forgotten　that　those　men　were　long　dead。　And　their　sons；　dead。　And　theirs；　and　theirs。。。
　The　old　Thing　in　the　ground　had　lived　for　five　hundred　years；　and　as　long　again　had　lain　undead　in　his　unhallowed　grave。Above　him；　in　the　gloom　of　a　glade　beneath　stirless；　snow…laden　trees；　the　tumbled　stones　and　slabs　of　his　tomb　told　something　of　his　story；　but　only　the　Thing　himself　knew　all　of　it。　His　name　had　been。。。　but　no；　the　Wamphyri　have　no　names　as　such。　His　host's　name；　then；　had　been　Thibor　Ferenczy；　and　in　the　beginning　Thibor　had　been　a　man。　But　that　had　been　almost　a　thousand　years　ago。
　The　Thibor　part　of　the　Thing　in　the　ground　existed　still；　but　changed；　mutated；　mingled　and　metamorphosed　along　with　its　vampire　〃guest〃。　The　two　were　one　now；　inseparably　fused；　but　in　dreams　that　spanned　a　millennium；　still　Thibor　could　return　to　his　roots；　go　back　to　the　immensely　cruel　past。。。
　In　the　very　beginning　he　had　not　been　a　Ferenczy　but　an　Ungar；　though　that　was　of　no　account　now。　His　forefathers　were　farmers　who　came　from　a　Hungarian　princedom　across　the　Carpathians　to　settle　on　the　banks　of　the　Dniester　where　it　flowed　down　to　the　Black　Sea。　But　〃settling〃　was　hardly　the　word　for　it。　They　had　had　to　fight　Vikings　（the　dreadful　Varyagi）　on　the　river；　where　they　came　exploring　from　the　Black　Sea；　the　Khazars　and　vassal　Magyars　from　the　steppes；　finally　the　fierce　Pechenegi　tribes　in　their　constant　expansion　west　and　north…wards。　Thibor　had　been　a　young　man　then；　when　at　last　the　Pechenegi　wiped　out　the　rude　settlement　he　called　home　and　he　alone　survived。　After　that　he'd　fled　north　to　Kiev。
　Never　much　of　a　farmer；　indeed；　far　more　suited　for　war　with　his　massive　size…which　in　those　days；　when　most　men　were　small；　made　Thibor　the　Wallach　some…thing　of　a　giant…in　Kiev　he　sold　himself　into　the　service　of　Vladimir　I。　The　Vlad　made　him　a　small　Voevod　or　warrior　chief　and　gave　him　a　hundred　men。　〃Go　join　my　Boyars　in　the　south；〃　he　manded。　〃Fend　off　and　kill　the　Pechenegi；　keep　〃em　from　crossing　the　Ros；　and　by　our　new　Christian　God　I'll　give　you　title　and　banner　both；　Thibor　of　Wallachia！〃　Thibor　had　gone　to　him　when　he　was　desperate；　that　much　was　clear。
　In　his　dream；　the　Thing　in　the　ground　remembered　how　he'd　answered：　Title　and　banner；　keep　them；　my　Lord…but　only　give　me　one　hundred　men　more　and　I　shall　kill　you　a　thousand　Pechenegi　before　returning　to　Kiev。　Aye；　and　I'll　bring　you　their　thumbs　to　prove　it！〃
　He　got　his　hundred　men；　also；　like　it　or　not；　his　banner：　a　golden　dragon；　one　forepaw　raised　in　warning。　〃The　dragon　of　the　true　Christ；　brought　to　us　by　the　Greeks；〃　Vlad　told　him。　〃Now　the　dragon　watches　over　Christian　Kiev…Russia　itself…and　it　roars　from　your　banner　with　the　voice　of　the　Lord！　What　mark　of　your　own　will　you　put　on　it？〃　On　that　same　morning　he　had　asked　this　question　of　half…a…dozen　other　fledgling　defenders；　five　Boyars　with　their　own　followers　and　one　band　of　mercenaries。　All　of　them　had　taken　a　symbol　to　fly　with　the　dragon。　But　not　Thibor。
　〃I'm　no　Boyar；　sire；〃　the　Wallach　had　told　him　with　a　shrug。　〃That's　not　to　say　my　father's　house　was　not　honourable；　for　it　was；　and　built　by　a　decent　man…but　in　no　way　royal。　No　lord's　or　prince's　blood　flows　in　my　veins。　When　I've　earned　myself　a　mark；　then　I'll　set　it　over　your　dragon。〃
　〃I'm　not　sure　I　like　you　especially；　Wallach。〃　The　Vlad　had　frowned　then；　uneasy　with　this　great；　grim　man　before　him。　〃Your　voice　sounds　out　perhaps　a　trifle　loud　from　a　heart　as　yet　untried。　But…〃　and　he；　too；　had　given　a　shrug；　〃…very　well；　choose　a　device　for　yourself　when　you　return　in　triumph。　And　Thibor…bring　me　those　thumbs　or　I'll　likely　string　you　up　by　yours！〃　And　that　day　at　noon　seven　polyglot　panies　of　men　had　set　out　from　Kiev；　reinforcements　for　the　ensieged　defensive　positions　on　the　Ros。　One　year　and　one　month　later　Thibor　returned　with　nearly　all　of　his　men；　plus　another　eighty　recruited　from　peasants　hiding　in　the　foothills　and　valleys　of　the　southern　Khorvaty。　He　made　no　plea　for　audience　but　strode　into　the　Vlad's　own　church　where　he　was　at　worship。　He　left　his　weary　men　outside　and　took　in　with　him　only　one　small　sack　that　rattled；　and　approached　Prince　Vladimir　Svyatoslavich　at　his　prayers　and　waited　for　him　to　finish。　Behind　him　Kiev's　civilian　nobles　were　deathly　silent；　waiting　for　their　prince　to　see　him。
　Finally　the　Vlad　and　his　Greek　monks　turned　to　Thibor。　The　sight　they　saw　was　fearsome。　Thibor　had　soil　on　him　from　the　fields　and　forests；　dirt　was　ingrained　in　him；　he　bore　a　freshly　healed　scar　high　on　his　right　cheek　to　the　middle　of　his　jaw；　which　made　a　pale　stripe　of　scar　tissue　that　cut　almost　to　the　bone。　Also；　he　had　gone　away　as　a　peasant　and　returned　something　else　entirely。　Haughty　as　a　hawk；　with　his　nose　slightly　hooked　under　bushy　eye…brows　that　very　nearly　came　together　in　the　middle；　he　gazed　out　of　yellow；　unblinking　eyes。　He　wore　mous…taches　and　a　scraggy；　twisting　black　beard；　also　the　armour　of　some　Pechenegi　chief；　chased　in　gold　and　silver；　and　an　earring　set　with　a　gemstone　in　the　lobe　of　his　left　ear。　He　had　shaved　his　head　with　the　exception　of　black　forelocks　that　hung　one　to　each　side；　in　the　manner　of　certain　nobles；　and　in　all　his　mien；　there　was　no　sign　that　he　knew　he　stood　in　a　holy　place　or　even　considered　his　whereabouts。
　〃I　know　you　now；〃　the　Vlad　hissed；　〃Thibor　the　Wallach。　Don't　you　fear　the　true　God？　Don't　you　tremble　before　the　cross　of　Christ？　I　was　praying　for　our　deliverance；　and　you…'
　〃And　I　have　brought　it　to　you。〃　Thibor's　voice　was　deep；　doleful。　He　tipped　out　his　sack　onto　the　flags。　The　prince's　retinue　and　the　nobles　of　Kiev　where　they　stood　back　from　him　who　ruled　over　them　gasped　and　gaped。　Bones　clattered　white　in　a　heap　at　the　Vlad's　feet。
　〃What？〃　he　choked。　〃What？〃
　〃Thumbs；〃　said　Thibor。　〃I　had　the　flesh　boiled　off　them；　lest　their　stink　offend。　The　Pechenegi　are　driven　back；　trapped　between　the　Dniester；　the　Bug　and　the　sea。　Your　Boyar　army　hems　them　in。　Hopefully　they　can　deal　with　them　without　me　and　mine。　For　I　have　heard　that　the　Polovtsy　are　rising　like　the　wind　in　the　east。　Also；　in　Turkey…land；　armies　wax　for　war！〃
　〃You　have　heard？　You　have　heard？　And　are　you　some　mighty　Voevod；　then？　Do　you　set　yourself　up　as　the　ears　of　Vladimir？　And　what　do　you　mean；　〃you　and　yours〃？　The　two　hundred　men　you　marched　with　are　mine！〃
　At　that　Thibor　took　a　deep　breath。　He　paced　forward…then　paused。　Then　he　bowed　low；　if　inelegantly；　and　said；　〃Of　course　they　are　yours；　Prince。　Also　the　four…score　refugees　I've　gathered　together　and　turned　into　warriors。　All　are　yours。　As　for　being　your　ears：　if　I　have　heard　falsely；　then　strike　me　deaf。　But　my　work　is　finished　in　the　south　and　I　thought　you　had　more　need　of　me　here。　Soldiers　are　few　in　Kiev　this　day；　and　her　borders　are　wide。。。〃
　The　Vlad's　eyes　remained　veiled。　The　Pechenegi　are　at　bay；　you　say…and　do　you　give　yourself　credit　for　this？〃
　〃In　all　modesty。　This　and　more。〃
　〃And　you've　brought　my　men　back　with　you；　without　casualty？〃
　〃A　handful　are　fallen。〃　Thibor　shrugged。　〃But　I　found　eighty　to　replace　them。〃
　〃Show　me。〃
　They　went　to　the　great　doors；　out　onto　the　wide　steps　of　the　church。　There　in　the　square；　Thibor's　men　waited　in　silence；　some　upon　horses　but　most　afoot；　all　armed　to　the　teeth　and　looking　very　fierce。　They　were　the　same　sorry　bunch　the　Wallach　had　taken　away　with　him；　but　no　longer　sorry。　His　standard　flew　from　three　tall　flagstaffs：　the　golden　dragon；　and　upon　its　back　a　black　bat　with　of　carnelian。
　The　Vlad　nodded。　〃Your　mark；〃　he　mented；　per…haps　sourly。　〃A　bat。〃
　〃The　black　bat　of　the　Wallachs；　aye；〃　said　Thibor。One　of　the　monks　spoke　up；　〃But　atop　the　dragon？〃
　Thibor　grinned　at　him　wolfishly。　〃Would　you　have　the　dragon　pissing　on　my　bat？〃　The　monks　took　the　prince　aside　while　Thibor　stood　waiting。　He　could　not　hear　what　was　said；　but　he'd　imagined　it　often　enough　in　times　since：
　〃These　men　are　utterly　loyal　to　him！　See　how　proud　they　stand　beneath　his　banner？〃　the　senior　monk　would　have　whispered　in　that　sly