by Brian Lumley
And where before, indeed for all of his young life, Nathan had been shunned by the teeming dead, at last he found them to be his wholehearted allies. For recently one had come among them who would have it no other way. And Nana Kiklu had always been - and in death as in life would continue to be - a force to be reckoned with. When Nana’s voice had been added to those of her son’s friends among the dead, and when she had argued on his behalf, then any last trace of opposition had finally crumbled away.
Now the dead could talk to him, and he could ask them for their blessing on the bloodwars to come. He wanted nothing more for now, but that they think it over and seek in their memories - even their racial memories - for anything which might be of assistance in the crusade against the Wamphyri. For the Necroscope knew that all of Sunside/ Starside’s knowledge lay buried in the ground or blowing in the wind, dust to dust or ashes to ashes, and that the soil and the sky knew all that had been.
And of course there were those who would speak to him at once - urgently, now! - whom he could only thank and promise that he would indeed speak to them as soon as possible, but for the moment must use his resources, especially his time, to best advantage. For the night-time had always belonged to the Wamphyri, and now he intended to take it back from them!
521
520
How many times - on how many nights of terror - had that warning cry rung out in the camps of Sunside’s Szgany: ‘Wamphyri! Wamphyri!’ A cry of warning, aye, but also the battlecry of the vampires themselves; except to call it a ‘battlecry’ was to glorify it, where in fact there’d been no glory in it at all. A cry of slaughter, more like. Battles? Oh, there had been a few, but in the main - at least until the Old Lidesci’s time - the only course of survival had been flight. And so, one way or the other, tonight would be a night to remember. For the Szgany and the Wamphyri both. A night when the Travellers did not flee but came, killed, melted away and came again!
The Great Majority were taken with Nathan’s vision. And in their way they cheered him on. He got their blessing and their deadspeak promise both: that if the time came when he required their assistance, then that he need only ask . ..
It was everything that he’d wanted, and with that Nathan would have taken his leave of them; but still there were those among them who insisted that he listen to them, if only briefly. Jasef Karis was one; there was that which he must speak of - a secret out of the past, and perhaps important. But Jasef understood Nathan’s eagerness to be off on his mission to claim back a little of the enormous debt owed by the Wamphyri. And so his scrap of secret knowledge must keep for now, even as he’d kept it for all of seventeen long years.
Then there was the Thyre ancient, Thikkoul the Stargazer. If only Nathan would take him out again under the stars -if only he could see the stars again through the eyes of the Necroscope - Thikkoul felt sure that the future could be made to reveal itself and Nathan would know the way to go. Except both of them (and the precog lan Goodly, too) knew that the future isn’t like that. Immutable as the past, it may not be changed or even tampered with, but will be as it will be. And the way it will be is best left unknown. For, as had been proved time and time again, tomorrow is a devious place . ..
After Thikkoul, the leper Uruk Piatra had spoken to Nathan; but this time the Necroscope had been especially attentive. Uruk’s burned, crumbling shell of a body still lay unburied on the sandy mound where the Old Lidesci had left it; but because Uruk had a plan, the teeming dead ignored the miles between in order to introduce him to Nathan. And the leper’s plan was simple. Once, not so long ago, he’d tried to use the disease which plagued the people of his colony as a weapon against the Wamphyri. Now he would do it again: a matter of personal sacrifice, but one whose cause was just. And because Uruk would brook no argument, in the end Nathan could only bow to his wishes. It would be as the leper wished it.
And finally there was a new deadspeak voice; but previously unheard, it was a voice so dour, melancholy and doom-fraught that it hushed all the others to silence in a moment. Its timbre, texture and evil resonance were such that the Necroscope could not mistake their source, neither Nathan nor the Great Majority with him. Which was why they had fallen silent. For this was the voice of a vampire -indeed, Wamphyri!
Nathan would not talk to him, not in this place where he had spoken to the decently dead and gone, but yet felt that he should speak to him, if only to know what was on the monster’s mind. To that end, he excused himself and followed the voice to its source, the place where its owner had died . ..
… In a firepit at Sanctuary Rock!
Necroscope .. . (Vormulac’s voice was even more mournful than it had been in life: like the moaning of the wind into which his smoke had passed.) I learned of you through the dead, who did not deign to speak to me. Hah! I eavesdropped on them anyway, and discovered their deadspeak whispers to be full of the Necroscope, Nathan Keogh: a man who talks to the dead. Even to Vormulac Taintspore, called Unsleep — who once was undead but now is truly dead, and
522
523
sleeps only too well! Of secret skills and talents, I thought I’d seen them all. But this … is something new. A man who brings comfort to crumbling bones in rotting shrouds and lifeless dust in old clay bottles - even to an ancient, evil thing like me/
‘I’m not here to comfort you, Vormulac,’ Nathan told him. ‘Indeed, I would not be here at all, except you said you wanted revenge on your own kind, the Wamphyri, and especially on that one called Devetaki Skullguise, a Lady. Well, and so do I want revenge on the Wamphyri — for all the Szgany they ever killed or changed, and forever! In fact, I desire to destroy them all! So any advice or knowledge you impart that gives me an advantage … it will be more than welcome. Even though you yourself are not.’
Nathan … said the other thoughtfully. And you speak without fear, as if you were used to conversing with one such as I. Not merely a dead man, but a vampire Lord. Hmmm - Nathan/ Now say, have 1 not heard that name before? Can you use your deadspeak, perhaps, to show yourself to me?
The Necroscope saw no harm in it, and so showed himself to Vormulac. ‘I am that one, yes,’ he said, ‘who was the Seer-Lord Maglore’s so-called “familiar” in Runemanse.’
Ah! Vormulac responded. I remember: you stole a flyer and fled back into Sunside … or west, as it now appears. And you are the Necroscope, eh?’ (A grim chuckle.) But it would break old Maglore’s black heart to know what he let slip through his fingers! Even if I had not remembered you, still I would know you from the ring in your ear: Maglore’s sigil. Why, I myself wore just such a twisted loop, which the Seer-Lord gave to me in friendship.
At which Nathan gave a start, for he remembered something that David Chung had said to him. And: ‘I ask a favour of you,’ he said, in the next moment.
What, you ask a boon of me?
‘You desired to speak to me, didn’t you?’
Indeed, I did: ask away!
‘I showed myself to you — now show yourself to me.’ Vormulac did as requested, and Nathan saw the very duplicate of his earring in the lobe of the dead vampire’s conch-like ear!
That makes twice you’ve started, Necroscope, Lord Unsleep pointed out curiously. Now say, what is it that concerns you?
‘Only that he’s made fools of both of us,’ Nathan answered grimly.
He? Maglore?
The same. That’s not merely the Seer-Lord’s sigil but his shewstone — which we have worn like fools only inches from the cores of our brains! What we have seen, so has Maglore. What we have thought, he was privy to.’
But to what end? In order to watch over us, and know what is become?
‘That’s one way to put it, yes,’ Nathan answered. ‘But far more to the point: to spy on us, and know our every move. He is Wamphyri, after all, and so no better or worse than any of you.’
For long moments Vormulac’s deadspeak presence - his Wamphyri aura - was gloomier than ever. Then: Hah! And I left him to his own devices in
Turgosheim. An error, as it would seem. I see it all now: by now, the gorge entire belongs to Maglore! And his sigil no good-luck piece but a traitor to sit in my ear and listen to my thoughts! Upon my return — if I returned — that wily old rune-mage would know my every move and counter it with maximum efficiency! Bah! Is there nothing of honour?
At which Nathan gave a snort of his own. ‘What, are you playing word games with me, Vormulac? A Lord of the Wamphyri, asking a question like that? Honour, indeed! And yet I promise you this: Maglore wields a two-edged sword.’
Eh? How so?
‘Because he’s not the only mentalist in Starside, that’s how so. Would you see the shape of Turgosheim now?’
524
525
Because deadspeak often conveys more than is said, Vor-mulac knew his meaning. Indeed I would!
‘So be it…’
And Nathan concentrated on the warped shape of the loop of gold in his ear, and hurled a telepathic probe east … far to the east . .. across all of Starside and the Great Red Waste … to Turgosheim at the end of the world. And:
‘Maglore in his apartments in promontory Runemanse,’ Nathan whispered. ‘Secure in his triumph and open in his thoughts, for who remains to spy on them now? No one, for Lord Taintspore and his generals are off on a mighty crusade against Wratha the Risen in the west. The Seer-Lord gazes out from his window. And you’re right, Vormulac: Turgosheim is his entirely! Maglore the Mage is master now! He commands! His forces are taking all of the great aeries, spires and manses. His sigil flutters everywhere, from the walls of the lowliest hovel in the bed of the gorge, even to the frowning heights of melancholy -‘
No!
‘- Vormspire itself, yes! As for Masquemanse: Devetaki’s place is now a vast scar on the face of the gorge. Maglore has settled a few old scores with her, be sure!’
Little I care for that, Vormulac grunted. Indeed, I welcome the news. It is something to thank the Seer-Lord for, at least! But Vormspire! Ah, Vormspire .. .! And angrily: Do you seek deliberately to torment me, Necroscope?
‘Yes,’ Nathan said again, without hesitation.
How do 1 know you’re not lying? Obviously, Maglore instructed you well. Why, I believe you could play word games with the best of us! How is it that you read him so well, and over such a distance, while he reads nothing of you?
‘I was his one great failure,’ the Necroscope answered. ‘My mentalism was better than his. It was ever the same, even in Runemanse. He would attempt to read my mind, only to have me read his! He read my dreams instead, but found little of use in them. I hid my telepathy from him, and
my deadspeak hid itself. If Maglore had once suspected my talents, he would never have let me go.’
He ‘Jet’ you go?
Nathan nodded. ‘As I now realize. To be his shewstone in the west - even as you have been his shewstone!’
If only I could live again, Vormulac moaned, then. Ah, to know what I know now, and live again! Devetaki Skullguise, the so-called ‘virgin’ grandam … I would line up my lads to have her one by one. I’d melt her leaden masks and pour the liquid down her lying throat! Virgin? I would know where to drive the longest stake of all - and let her writhe upright on an ironwood prick, and steam to a stain as the sun rose over Sunside! And as for Maglore: I would drench him in oil, weight him with stones, and hurl him from Turgosheim’s rim - and set a torch to him, to light his shrieking descent! But alas … The fury went out of his voice in a moment, which sobbed now, and moaned as before: … My life is done, and all hope of revenge dead with me.
‘Not necessarily,’ Nathan told him. ‘You asked me to come here for a reason, but I cannot linger, for time is wasting. So now advise me however you will, or say nothing ever again. But whichever you do, do it quickly.’
You’ll help me to redress what was done to me - help me take my revenge - even from beyond the grave?
‘No, Lord Taintspore — my revenge, not yours. But if you can find pleasure in that…?’
I suppose it must suffice. Very well, listen: Devetaki is treacherous. I’ve given it some thought. It must be her plan to murder all of my generals one by one, and so command my army out of Turgosheim.
‘That sounds like a good plan to me.’
Are you always so cold? Is there no humour in you?
This from you? Your very deadspeak is ice! Maglore told me about you: even Vormspire was a living tomb, a mausoleum to a lost love. And if you lived as long again, do you suppose it would change you? In Turgosheim you were a great shroud covering the gorge with your misery. So don’t
526
527
Not if you tell it over again, to those generals whom the Lady would destroy! (There was sinister cunning, typical of all the Wamphyri, in Vormulac’s voice now.) For then they’d turn on her at once!
Tell it to them? How? It’s dangerous enough to play word games with the dead of the Wamphyri - such as yourself -but utterly impossible with the living or the undead! I was fortunate that time, with Maglore. What do you suggest: that I seek audience with these leaderless Lords, to inform them of Devetaki’s treachery?’ His deadspeak voice dripped sarcasm.
Audience? Vormulac grunted. No, scarcely that! Oh, they’d see you, all right - and eat your heart before you uttered a word! But you are a mentalist, Necroscope! And there’s something of that in all of them . ..
It was an idea at least: to use his telepathy to create dissension and cause insurgency in the ranks of the Wamphyri. To get them fighting each other, even as they now fought with the last aerie — which, since war and territorialism were in any case second nature to them, shouldn’t be too hard. Nathan gave it a moment’s thought, then nodded grimly. ‘Perhaps I’ll be able to work something out, after all. So what else do you suggest?’
Vormulac’s deadspeak shrug: Let me think. And after a moment: Do you know that Devetaki used weird weapons to kill me? Are you aware of their source?
‘Are you?’ Nathan countered.
A force of strange and powerful Szgany - or perhaps not Szgany, but men, anyway - in the keep in the great pass. Devetaki has already used one such man and weapon . .. against me! To destroy me! And I fancy that she’ll try to take and use the others, too,
‘I know about these strange men,’ Nathan answered. ‘Also ,about their weapons. But I have weapons of my own. Now that the strangers are without leaders, I may be able to
wnere t shall be waiting to meet them.’
Oh? But you’re careless with your plans, Necroscope! Does it not trouble you that I know them?
Nathan’s cold smile. ‘And who will you tell them to? You have no friends or allies now, Vormulac. You have nothing and no one - except me. And when our business is done, you won’t even have that. For I have better things to do than waste my time with such as you.’
Then be about your work, for I am done with you. Let me simply wish you luck, and get yourself gone!
But Nathan shook his head. He’d give no jot of satisfaction to a vampire, nor accept any offer of alleged friendship. ‘It’s not that you wish me luck,’ he said, ‘but that you wish evil on all of them who have survived you! You see me as the Great Destroyer that you wish you still were. Worse, you hope that when my work is done, I shall be destroyed, too.’
He was right, but Vormulac was finished and would say no more. Nevertheless, before Nathan returned to Lardis’s camp he thought to hear one last sigh from the deadspeak aether. It was Lord Unsleep, his final ‘sentiment’:
That perhaps now he really would sleep, but he hoped that he wouldn’t dream …
528
PART SEVEN
Settling Scores - Further Skirmishes Dreams and Dooms
I
Nathan’s Guerillas - Seeds of Suspicion
When Lardis Lidesci saw the Necroscope walk out onto the savanna where Uruk Piatra lay wrapped in his blanket, he followed after him and caught up as the youth took up the lifeless body into his arms. And after Nathan had explained:
&n
bsp; ‘But … is this what Uruk wants?’ Even the hardened Lardis was shocked by the Necroscope’s explanation.
‘It will be no bad thing,’ Nathan answered, ‘to know that in life he was helpless, but in death a deadly weapon. It’s the way of the dead, Lardis. What they did in life they continue to do after death, albeit to no effect. Except through me there is an effect. And Uruk wanted to see the Wamphyri Lords destroyed! For you and the Lidescis, Lardis, who all these years have provided for Uruk and his people in their sickness and seclusion, and for every Traveller everywhere. It is what he wants, yes.’
‘You’re certain?’
Nathan sighed. ‘I have spoken to him, and he to me. Uruk wants to do this for the reasons I’ve given, and I want to be his instrument in this sacrifice … for my own reasons.’
‘Because a Kiklu did this thing?’ Lardis knew how Nathan was torn; and yet again he was reminded that this was no ordinary man, but the son of the Necroscope, Harry Keogh. Which was why he stood back, and said, ‘Then speak to Uruk again, for me, and tell him I never knew the better man, leper or no.’ In any other world this might seem a very dubious compliment, but not here.
533
Nathan did as Lardis asked, however silently, then carried Uruk with him through a Mobius door -‘
- And out again on to the boulder plains half-way to the last aerie: dark and dreadful Wrathstack glooming there, some miles away, in blue-lit starlight, silhouetted against its eerie backdrop of a writhing auroral curtain. And:
