bl.necroscope2-第13部分

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　killing　him。　〃Your　birds；〃　he　said；　or　tried　to　say；　as　he　made　to　get　to　his　feet。　But　the　words　tangled　themselves　up　on　his　tongue；　came　out　slurred　and　alien　sounding。　Worse；　he　couldn't　force　himself　upright；　his　hands　seemed　glued　to　the　table　top；　and　his　feet　were　heavy　as　lumps　of　lead！
　Thibor　looked　down　at　his　straining；　twitching　hands；　his　nearly　paralysed　body；　and　even　his　horrified　glance　was　slow；　filled　with　an　unnatural　languor。　It　was　as　if　he　were　drunk；　but　drunker　than　he'd　ever　been。　It　would　require　only　the　slightest　shove；　he　was　sure；　to　send　him　sprawling。
　Then　his　eyes　fell　upon　his　goblet；　the　red　wine　from　the　pitcher。　Vinegary；　yes。　That　and　worse。　He　was　poisoned！
　The　Ferenczy　was　watching　him　closely。　Suddenly　he　sighed　and　stood　up。　He　seemed　even　taller　now；　younger；　stronger。　He　stepped　lithe　to　the　fire；　toppled　the　spit　and　steaming　birds　into　the　flames。　They　hissed；　smoked；　caught　fire　in　a　moment。　Then　he　turned　to　where　Thibor　sat　watching　him。　Not　a　muscle　of　Thibor's　body　would　answer　his　mind's　desperate　mands。　It　was　as　if　he　were　turned　to　stone。　Droplets　of　cold　sweat　started　out　upon　his　brow。　The　Ferenczy　came　closer；　stood　over　him。　Thibor　looked　at　him；　at　his　long　jaws；　his　misshapen　skull　and　ears；　his　crushed　snout　of　a　nose。　An　ugly　man；　yes；　and　perhaps　more　than　a　man。　〃P…p…poisoned！〃　The　Wallach　finally　spat　it　out。　〃Eh？〃　the　Ferenczy　cocked　his　head；　looked　down　on　him。　〃Poisoned？　No；　no；〃　he　denied；　〃merely　drugged。　Isn't　it　obvious　that　if　I　wanted　you　dead；　then　you'd　be　dead…along　with　Arvos　and　your　friends？　But　such　bravery！　I　showed　you　what　I　could　do；　and　yet　you　came　on。　Or　are　you　simply　stubborn？　Stupid；　maybe？　I'll　give　you　the　benefit　of　the　doubt　and　say　that　you're　brave；　for　I've　no　time　to　waste　on　fools。〃
　With　a　great　effort　of　will；　Thibor　forced　his　right　hand　spastically　towards　a　knife　where　it　lay　on　the　table。　His　host　smiled；　took　up　the　knife；　handed　it　to　him。　Thibor　sat　and　trembled　with　the　strain　of　his　effort；　but　he　could　no　more　take　that　knife　than　stand　up。　The　entire　room　was　beginning　to　swim；　to　melt；　to　flow　together　in　a　dark；　irresistible　whirlpool。
　The　last　thing　he　saw　was　the　Ferenczy's　face；　more　terrible　than　ever；　as　he　leaned　over　him。　That　bestial；　animal　face…jaws　open　in　a　gaping　laugh…and　the　crimson　forked　tongue　that　vibrated　like　a　crippled　snake　in　the　cavern　of　his　throat！
　The　old　Thing　in　the　ground　sprang　awake。。。　！　His　nightmare　had　awakened　him；　and　something　else。
　For　a　moment　the　Thibor…creature　thrilled　with　the　horror　of　his　dream；　before　remembering　where；　who　and　what　he　was。　And　then　he　thrilled　again；　the　second　time　with　ecstasy。
　Blood！
　The　black　soil　of　his　grave　was　drenched；　gorged　with　blood！　Blood　touched　him；　seeped　like　oil　through　leaf…mould；　rootlets　and　earth　and　touched　him。　Drawn　by　the　instant　capillary　action　of　his　myriad　thirsting　fibres；　it　soaked　into　him；　filled　his　desiccated　pores　and　veins；　his　spongy　organs　and　yawning；　aching　alveolate　bones。
　Blood…life！…filled　the　vampire；　set　centuries…numbed　nerves　leaping；　brought　incredible；　inhuman　senses　instantly　alert。
　His　eyes　cracked　open…closed　at　once。　Soil。　Darkness。　He　was　buried　still。　He　lay　in　his　grave；　as　always。　He　opened　the　sinuses　of　his　gaping　nostrils；　and　immediately　closed　them…but　not　entirely。　He　smelled　the　soil；　yes；　but　he　also　smelled　blood。　And　now；　fully　awake；　he　carefully；　far　more　minutely；　began　to　examine　his　surroundings。
　He　weighed　the　earth　above　him；　probed　it　with　instinct。　Shallow；　very　shallow。　Eighteen　inches；　no　more。　And　above　that；　another　twelve　inches　of　pact　leaf…mould。　Oh；　he'd　been　buried　deep　enough　that　time；　but　in　the　centuries　between　he'd　wormed　his　way　closer　to　the　surface。　That　had　been　when　he　had　the　strength　to　do　so。
　He　exerted　himself；　extended　pseudopods　up　into　the　soil　like　crimson　worms…and　snatched　them　back。　Oh；　yes；　the　earth　was　heavily　saturated　with　blood；　and　human　blood　at　that；　but。。。　how　could　that　be？　Could　this　be…could　it　possibly　be…the　work　of　Dragosani？
　The　Thing　reached　out　its　mind；　called　softly：　Drago…saaaniiii？　Is　it　you；　my　son？　Have　you　done　this　thing；　brought　me　this　fine　tribute；　Dragosaaaniiii？
　His　thoughts　touched　upon　minds…but　clean　minds；　innocent　minds。　Human　minds　which　had　never　known　his　taint。　But　people？　Here　in　the　cruciform　hills？　What　was　their　purpose　here？　Why　had　they　e　to　his　grave　and　baited　the　earth　with…Baited　the　earth！
　The　Thibor…creature　whipped　back　his　thoughts；　his　protoplasmic　extrusions；　his　psychic　extensions　and　cringed　down　into　himself。　Terror　and　hatred　filled　his　every　nerve。　Was　that　the　answer？　Had　they　remembered　him　after　all　these　years　and　e　to　put　paid　to　him　at　last？　Had　they　let　him　lie　here　undead　for　half　a　millennium　simply　to　e　and　destroy　him　now？　Had　Dragosani　perhaps　spoken　of　him　to　someone；　and　that　someone　recognised　the　peril　in　what　was　buried　here？
　Senses　thrilling；　the　Thing　lay　there；　his　scarcely　human　body　trembling　with　tension；　listening；　feeling；　smelling；　tasting；　using　all　of　his　heightened　vampire　senses　except　that　of　sight。　Aye；　and　he　could　use　that；　too；　if　he　dared。　But　for　all　his　fear；　the　one　thing　he　did　not　sense　was　danger。　And　he　would　know　the　smell　of　danger　as　surely　as　he　knew　the　smell　of　blood。　What　hour　would　it　be？
　His　trembling　stilled　as　he　gave　the　problem　of　the　hour　a　moment's　thought。　Hour？　Hah！　What　month　would　it　be；　what　season；　year；　decade？　How　long　since　the　boy　Dragosani…that　child　of　Thibor's　every　hope　and　evil　aspiration…how　long　since　he'd　visited　him　here？　But　more　importantly；　was　it　day　now。。。　or　was　it　night？
　It　was　night。　The　vampire　could　feel　it。　Darkness　seeped　down　through　the　soil　like　the　rich；　dark　blood　it　acpanied。　It　was　night；　his　time；　and　the　blood　had　given　him　a　strength；　an　elasticity；　a　motivation　and　a　mobility　almost　forgotten　through　all　the　centuries　he'd　lain　here。
　He　put　out　his　thoughts　again　to　touch　upon　the　minds　of　the　people　in　the　glade　of　stirless　trees　directly　above　him　where　he　lay。　He　did　not　think　at　them；　made　no　effort　to　municate；　merely　touched　their　thoughts　with　his　own。　A　man　and　a　woman。　Only　the　two　of　them。　Were　they　lovers？　Is　that　what　they　were　doing　here？　But　in　winter？　Yes；　it　was　winter；　and　the　ground　cold　and　hard。　And　what　of　the　blood？　Perhaps　it　was。。。　murder？　The　woman's　mind　was。。。　full　of　nightmares！　She　slept；　or　lay　unconscious；　but　panic　was　fresh　in　her　mind　and　her　heart　beat　fitfully；　in　a　fever　of　fear。　What　had　frightened　her？
　As　for　the　man：　he　was　dying。　It　was　his　blood　the　old　Thing　had　absorbed；　which　fuelled　his　vampire　system　even　now。　But　what　had　happened　to　these　two？　Had　he　lured　her　here；　attacked　her；　and　had　she　in　turn　cut　him　open　before　he　could　use　her？
　Thibor　tried　to　explore　the　dying　man's　mind　a　little　deeper。　There　was　pain…too　much　pain。　It　had　closed　the　man's　mind　down；　so　that　now　all　was　growing　numb；　succumbing　to　an　aching　void。　It　was　the　ultimate　void；　called　Death；　which　would　swallow　its　victim　utterly。
　But　pain；　yes…indeed　agony。　The　Thing　in　the　ground　put　out　extrusions　like　flexible；　fleshy　antennae　to　trace　the　man's　seeping　life　fluid；　red　worms　of　inhuman　flesh　extended　from　his　ages…wrinkled　face；　hollow　chest；　shrivelled　limbs；　burrowing　upward　like　tube…worms　or　the　siphons　of　some　loathsome　mollusc；　they　followed　the　scarlet　trace；　converging　upon　its　source。
　The　man's　right　leg　was　broken　above　the　knee。　Sharply　fractured　bone　had　sliced　open　arteries　like　a　knife；　arteries　which　even　now　pumped　thin　splashes　of　steaming　scarlet　on　to　the　cold；　dead　earth。　But　that　was　a　thought　which　was　too　much；　it　stirred　the　true　beast　in　the　Thibor…creature；　he　was　ravening　in　a　moment。　His　great　dog's　jaws　cracked　open　in　the　hard　earth；　crusted　lips　quivered　and　salivated；　flaring　nostrils　gaped　like　black　funnels。
　From　its　neck　the　Thing　sent　up　a　thick　snake　of　surging　protoplasm；　which　pushed　aside　rootlets　and　pebbles　and　dirt　until　it　emerged；　nodding　like　some　vile；　animated　mushroom；　in　the　glade　of　Thibor's　mausoleum。　He　formed　a　rudimentary　eye　in　its　tip；　expanded　its　pupil　the　better　to　see　in　the　darkness。
　He　saw　the　dying　man：　a　large；　handsome　man；　which　might　explain　the　good　strong　blood；　its　quality　and　quantity。　An　intelligent　man；　high　browed。　And　yet　crumpled　here　on　the　hard　earth；　with　his　life　leaking　out　of　him　down　to　the　last　few　droplets。
　Thibor　couldn't　save　him；　wouldn't　if　he　could。　But　neither　would　he　let　him　go　to　waste。　A　cursory　glance　of　his　obscene　eye；　to　ensure　that　the　woman　was　not　ing　out　of　her　faint；　and　then　he　sent　up　a　score　of　tiny　red　snouts　from　his　gaping　face：　hollow　tubes　like　little　pouting　mouths；　to　slide　into　the　raw　wound　and　draw　on　the　last　of　the　hot　juices　which　flooded　there。　Then…All　of　Thibor's　hellish　being　surrendered　itself　to　the　sheer　ecstasy…the　black　joy；　the　unholy　rapture…of　feeding；　of　drawing　red　sustenance　direct　from　a　victim's　veins。　It　was。。。　it　was　indescribable！
　It　was　a　man's　first　woman。　Not　his　first　fumbling；　hurried；　uncontrolled　eruption　on　to　some　girl's　belly　or　into　her　pubic　hair；　but　the　first　pumping　of　salving　semen　into　the　hot　core　of　a　groaning；　sated　woman。　It　was　a　man's　first　kill　in　battle；　when　his　enemy's　head　leaps　free　or　his　sword　strikes　home　in　heart　or　throat。　It　was　the　sharp；　stinging　agony　of　a　douse　in　some　mountain　pool；　the　sight　of　a　battlefield；　where　the　piled　bodies　of　an　army　reek　and　steam；　the　adoration　of　warriors　hoisting　high　a　man's　colours　in　recognition　of　his　victory。　It　was　as　sweet　as　all　of　these　things…but　alas；　it　was　over　all　too　quickly。
　The　man's　heart　no　longer　pumped。　His　blood；　what　little　remained；　was　still。　The　great　blotches　of　crimson　were　hardening　and　turning　leaf…mould　to　clotted　crusts。　Almost　before　it　had　begun；　the　marvellous　feast　was。。。　over？
　Perhaps　not。。。
　The　Thibor…thing's　sight　extension　turned　its　eye　upon　the　woman。　She　was　pale；　attractive；　fine…boned。　She　looked　like　the　fine　toy　lady　of　some　rich　Boyar；　full　of　thin　aristocratic　blood。　Feverish　highlights　of　colour　gave　her　cheeks　a　fresh　app