Bloodwars

by Brian Lumley

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘Here, they come and go like shadows,’ she said. ‘Here in these barrier mountains, where they know all the trails and hidey-holes. But do you think they are likely to come adventuring across the boulder plains, to the last aerie itself? Also, I’ve taken one of them prisoner, and he has . .. told me things.’ She shrugged. They have a leader, these irritating Sunsiders. But my captive, now my true thrall and disciple, knows where to find him - always! He has a talent, you see, this new thrall of mine: he sniffs men out. And when Wrathstack is fallen, then he’ll sniff out the leader of these guerillas .. .’

  ‘You have it all worked out,’ said Grigor, however grudgingly.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Devetaki. ‘But isn’t that what a leader is for?’ And to the rest of them:

  ‘Post guards. Let’s make sure we suffer no more incursions - no more losses - this night. Likewise tomorrow; for we must always remember, daytime is their time! That’s it, then. A long day lies ahead. Get your rest while you may, my Lords, but save the best of your provisions till next the sun sets. For then, with well-fuelled men and beasts, we ride on Wrathstack!’

  As the Lords departed back to their camps - some of them eager and excited, and others muttering - Zindevar told Devetaki: ‘Do you know, you almost had me convinced, too?’

  And Ursula Torspawn - slight as a Szgany girl, and even dressed like one, but Wamphyri all the way — said, ‘Some will survive, of course.’

  ‘But greatly weakened,’ Devetaki answered. ‘And by then, if all works out, we’ll have control of some of these weapons that Grigor mentioned, which I have seen in use. For before we attack Wrathstack, Zindevar here will have secured the

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  pass - and what it contains! Remember, I have a man, the same captive I spoke of, who understands those weapons.’

  Still her Lady colleagues looked uncertain, until the virgin grandam sighed and said, Try to see the whole picture:

  ‘The great pass secured, ours. A number of superior Szgany thralls recruited, their weapons in our hands. Wrath-stack taken and only a handful of Lords surviving … for a while. The bulk of our army out of Turgosheim — say half of it? - intact, its men and beasts at our command. The fighting just over, and the bloodwar won. But do we stop there?

  ‘No, we sweep on - sweep over - the last of the Lords! And finally, the apportioning. Zindevar: we’ve spoken before, you and I, concerning territories. Now I have a new proposal for you, which I think you’ll like.’

  Zindevar narrowed her eyes and grunted, ‘Oh? Do you think so? Then say on.’

  ‘The great pass shall be yours to take and keep, as previously agreed.’ Devetaki nodded. ‘But in addition . .. what say you have all these barrier mountains east to west, to explore, carve out, inhabit? Why, it should keep you busy for a century!’

  Zindevar made no reply for she was struck dumb. Ursula, on the other hand, was not so taken with things. ‘It seems I have happened late upon these discussions, these plans of yours …’

  ‘Ah, no, Ursula!’ said Devetaki. ‘Do not be mistaken or feel in any way slighted; you were taken into account from the start. Zindevar is here to corroborate it when I tell you that we had already apportioned Turgosheim to you, in its entirety! Every stack, stump and manse, the whole gorge! Myself, I shall have the last aerie and all the stumps of fallen stacks around. For we are equals, even sisters of sorts after all. And so the grand triumvirate lives on, but as a matriarchy now! Hah! And why not? The Lords have lorded it long enough.’

  Their talks were at an end; the sky over the barrier

  mountains was definitely brightening; Zindevar and Ursula returned to their individual camps. Watching them go, Devetaki thought: Fools! Greedy fools! But she kept the thought to herself. Then, gazing west, she sought out a distance-misted glimmer where the foothills met the barren boulder plains: a pale luminosity that lay like a glow-worm in the night - the Starside Gate.

  For despite the alleged ‘greediness’ of her sisters, Deve-taki’s ambitions were greater far than theirs. Why be satisfied with a mere stack, a mountain range, a piddling gorge, when she could have a world entire? And why be satisfied with one world when she could have two? Her smiling mask glinted lead-grey and shimmery blue in the gradually dimming light of the stars, but the eyes behind the mask were red as ever.

  Even as red as lust.

  And as red as blood, of course . ..

  It was five hours before the dawn when Nathan woke up. Misha had crept out of his arms some two hours earlier, but she had let him sleep on. Indeed, when the others would have woken him up, she insisted that he sleep on!

  ‘He’s taking it as the dry earth takes rain,’ she’d told them. ‘Because it’s required. I don’t want my husband to crack like the earth. Also, if he wants to find fault that he wasn’t awakened, he can find it with me. So don’t worry.’

  And when Lardis Lidesci had stomped forward and told her: ‘You’re coming between him and a bloodwar!’

  ‘Good!’ she’d snapped back. ‘Now go away!’

  And he had done just that, muttering: ‘Huh! So she takes over where his mother left off! Hard women are the poor lad’s lot, it would seem!’

  But in fact Misha’s instinct had been right in more ways than one. For even now, as Nathan slept, things were shaping; the dreams of the Necroscope were never as those of ordinary men …

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  At first, sensing as Misha sensed, how much Nathan needed his sleep - a sleep of recuperation, of physical and mental revitalization; of recovery, from his efforts and his losses both; of adjustment, to reassert the balance of his being -the living and the teeming dead alike had granted him the peace he so desired. But Nathan had asked a favour of the desert-dwelling Thyre, which they had considered and now would answer. The grey brothers of the wild were watchful on his behalf, and they had news for him; and there was a restless handful among the dead, too, who were no longer willing to be kept waiting. They must speak to him, and now.

  Nathaaan! It was the voice of Thikkoul the long-dead Thyre Stargazer, who read the future in the eternal stars. He’d read Nathan’s future for him, too, upon a time (and accurately, however obliquely), so that the Necroscope was wary of him; or if not of Thikkoul, of his talent and of the future itself, which had proved as immutable as the past. With or without the stars and those who might try to read them, the future was a devious thing; it had its own way of being as it would be.

  And: Nathan, said Thikkoul. Your mind was a void, so that I knew you slept well and deep. But now, as you grow stronger, your numbers vortex swirls as before; I know that you receive me, and we must speak! Since your waking hours are filled with works, I come as before -

  - In my dreams, Nathan answered him. Yes, I hear you.

  And you know why I’ve come?

  To show me the future, yes -even though we can’t change it.

  Thikkoul seemed breathless now. Nathan, recently … there have been portents/ I, too, dream, but I don’t understand what I see. You can be my eyes and show me the stars again, wherein the secrets may be fathomed.

  You think it’s that important?

  Oh, indeed!

  Then I’ll come to you. And if I may, I shall bring someone with me.

  Oh? A friend, I take it?

  (Nathan’s deadspeak nod.) And one with a wonderful talent. For like you, Thikkoul, he sees into the future -something of it, at least. But he can’t read the stars. And in any case, our stars are alien to him. But the two of you together … it may be that we’ll get a truer picture.

  Then I look forward to meeting your friend. But when?

  Soon, Nathan promised …

  Thikkoul’s deadspeak carrier faded, but there was another to replace it. Nathan. (The eager, even urgent, voice of Jasef Karis, an old champion of the Necroscope among Sunside’s Great Majority.) If you would visit this Thyre stargazer, surely you must come and see me? For the past is at least as important as the fu
ture. Or, if we may not meet .. . well, on my own ground, as it were, then let me tell you what I know here and now. It makes no difference to me -but it might make a great deal of difference to you and the Lidescis. Indeed, to all the Szgany!

  You, too, Jasef, Nathan told him. As soon as I can, I’ll attend you. But - (and here his voice became very grim, very cold) — first I have work to do in the barrier mountains.

  Very well. (Jasef’s sigh of frustration.) But don’t leave it too long, Necroscope .. .

  The deadspeak aether cleared, and the dried leaves whispers of the teeming dead faded, to make room for the telepathic sendings of the living: the wag of a familiar tail and a low growl in Nathan’s metaphysical mind. It was Grinner, who also knew deadspeak and had listened to the Necroscope’s conversation with Jasef:

  Uncle, a word of warning: you succeeded too well in these barrier mountains. Best to put back your plans a while. You may not come here now, not if you would live another day!

  Where are you? Nathan was eager to talk to this one.

  We spy on the Wamphyri, as you ordered, Grinner told him. In the mountains, east of the great pass as before. But these are worried creatures, Uncle; they take no chances;

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  over each of their camps they have set a watch, and warriors are hidden in the crags and crevices. Even with your talents you may not come among them unobserved. Also, they have One-Who-Scans! We have sensed him, his probe. He knows you, knows where you are.

  A locator? It could only be Alexei Yefros! And Nathan wondered how many others of Tzonov’s party had been taken. Maybe he should speak to Zek and Trask. Knowing that he was asleep, he willed himself to remember all that was being communicated to him when finally he woke up. What else do you have for me?

  Nothing. Apart from the watchers, the vampires prepare for sunup. They are hidden away. They will sleep in the shadows of the mountains.

  My thanks, Grinner, Nathan told him. But it’s hard to take your advice. I have scores to settle …

  We know. But they won’t be settled if you become a victim! Be as a wolf, Uncle: creep up on your prey and strike him when he least expects it - not when he’s prepared.

  Nathan nodded. You’re right, of course .. .

  Then you won’t put yourself in jeopardy?

  No, not yet at least. Anyway, there are a great many other things that I must see to. Tomorrow, perhaps, in the daylight, when the Lords lie sleeping.

  Good! Grinner barked, his telepathic probe fading .. .

  … But only to be replaced by another - the Necroscope’s Thyre ‘sister’, Atwei. Nathan, can you speak to me?

  To you? Any time.

  Good news! she told him. The elders of the Thyre are in agreement; if Sunside is threatened, then even the furnace deserts come under threat, and the Thyre themselves! Wherefore you need no longer hold yourself to old pledges. If you would bring your people to us — if you need to use Thyre colonies as safe, temporary harbours — so be it. We place our faith in you, Nathan. You have our blessing.

  Tomorrow, Nathan answered, unable to hold back his sigh of relief. I practise my people tomorrow.

  All of them? Her voice echoed her amazement. You can bring … all of them?

  I can only try.

  Tomorrow? But where? Will I see you?

  Where are you?

  In the Cavern of the Ancients.

  Then you won’t see me. But you can pass on my message.

  Some small sadness, before she answered, Of course.

  At sunup I’ll take my people to Crater Lake. It’s a trial, that’s all. I’ll take them - then return them to their forests in a moment. A reception isn’t necessary, and it shall be as if we were never there. I only mention it as a courtesy.

  And do you know how to find Crater Lake?

  Oh, yes! A very beautiful place, which I remember well. I only have to close my eyes and I can see it like yesterday. And I know the co-ordinates.

  He sensed her nod. I will pass on your message. Farewell, Nathan.

  Farewell Atwei, my sister . ..

  At this point Nathan rolled over in his sleep and his arm fell across the empty space where Misha had lain. However vaguely, her absence registered in his sleeping mind, causing him to question it and increasing his awareness. His thoughts went out, searching . .. but they didn’t find Misha!

  Instead they found someone else, who by now was practised in the invasion of the Necroscope’s secret mind. Nathan recognized him at once, and despite that he was still asleep, conjured the vortex to cloak his thoughts in numbers, which was where he gained the upper hand. In Turgosheim, this had always been the way of it: that his telepathy was superior — to Maglore’s! It was why he continued to wear his golden earring, because where certain areas of his mind were forbidden to Maglore, nothing of Maglore’s was forbidden to him.

  And now Nathan gazed on the Seer-Lord’s innermost secrets, and saw how utterly the gorge of Turgosheim had fallen into his grasp . .. except for one part, one place.

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  Madmanse, that sinister, gloomy, ghost-ridden mausoleum of a dwelling, like a hollow pedestal supporting Maglore’s own promontory Runemanse! And Nathan read in the Seer-Lord’s mind how his failure to annexe and inhabit Mad-manse irritated him. It was not that the place was uninhabitable, rather that it was already inhabited - by the undead spirit of Eygor Killglance! And for all that Maglore was the self-styled ‘mage’, he could neither exorcise the thing nor bear to be near it. Quite obviously Eygor must have been a monster among monsters, that not even others of the Wamphyri could abide to dwell where he had dwelled! But that was nothing new; Nathan knew what Eygor had been.

  But now … perhaps Maglore sensed that he was discovered or about to be. In any case his probe withdrew, was drawn back across all the miles, to Runemanse on the craggy rim of Turgosheim …

  … And in its turn was replaced - by the monster of monsters himself!

  You are unkind, Eygor’s deadspeak crawled like a slug in Nathan’s dreams. Such thoughts do you no credit, Necro-scope. Do I come in siJence, furtive as a thief in the night, creeping in the corridors of your secret mind like the Seer-Lord? No, for I am open in my approach, well-mannered, and never a sign of menace. Why, I would not be here even now … except I sensed Maglore’s probe go out and desired to know what he was about. And so he spies on you, eh? Ah, and he knows your powers, Nathan, and would destroy you if he could! You should fear him, Necroscope, for he’s sly, that one.

  But in you I have nothing to fear, eh, Eygor? Nathan made no attempt to hide his sarcasm, his disgust. You are innocent as a child, right?

  He sensed the other’s deadspeak shrug. We’ve had this conversation before. (Eygor was surly now; he pretended that he’d been slighted.) Very well, you don’t want to speak to someone whose only desire is to help you. Someone who brings words of wisdom - and a warning!

  A warning? However convoluted Eygor’s Wamphyri conversation — his word games — might prove to be, any information had to be better than none. Nathan’s thoughts were deadspeak, and:

  Indeed! Eygor agreed. Yet plainly you would prefer that I leave you to your own devices. Very well, I get me —

  Wait! The Necroscope stopped him, even as he pretended to withdraw. Except I would remind you, Eygor, that the last time we spoke you tried to lure me into calling you up. That sort of thing won’t work a second time, be sure.

  Then you’re a fool, for I would be your ultimate weapon!

  I would be a fool, certainly, if I believed you!

  Enough! I don’t know why I put myself to the effort. Now, do you want to hear what I have to tell you, or not?

  If there are no strings, then I’ll listen.

  There are many new arrivals among the dead of Turgosheim, killed defending their manses against the incursions of Maglore of Runemanse! They, at least, are not above speaking to me. And their message is simple: Maglore would make himself master here - of all Tur
gosheim!

  Nathan’s turn to shrug. He’s that already. It was always his plan. Now tell me something I don’t know.

  (A pause, then Eygor’s hideous chuckle, as black as sin in the deadspeak aether.) Ah, but you’re not as clever as you make out, Necroscope! Or maybe you are. So tell me: what will be Maglore’s next move?

  I haven’t given it much thought. Time for that when I’ve time for Maglore himself.

  (Feigned astonishment.) But .. . aren’t you the so-called ‘saviour’ of your people? Can’t you see that once Maglore has filled the gorge with fighting beasts, then he must feed them! Or is it that your duties don’t extend so far as Turgosheim? Only your western Szgany are worthy of your protection, eh?

  Now Nathan saw the other’s meaning: that in order to keep Turgosheim for himself, Maglore must begin to raid in force on Turgosheim’s Sunside. No more tithe system, which had been bad enough in itself, but a monstrous bloodbath!

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  He is not so stupid! he gasped. What? But he could decimate the eastern Szgany!

  Oh? Ha-ha! No, MagJore is not stupid at all! And yet he will decimate them, at Jeast until he can be certain that Vormulac’s army is crushed or otherwise incapacitated and will not return. Only then will he endeavour to maintain a balance, and let the Sunsiders live and multiply in order that he may live. But be/ore then? Even tomorrow night? The blood is the life!

  Nathan could scarcely control his anger. Why do you tell me these things, Eygor? To torment me? I can’t contain what’s happening here, let alone in Turgosheim! You know there’s no way I can stop him.

  Eygor’s deadspeak nod, and his phlegmy grunt of scarcely concealed anticipation: Exactly! You can’t stop him. But I can -if you’ll only call me up!

  That again, Nathan’s ‘voice’ hardened. All a subterfuge, to get you up out of your pit.