Invaders

by Brian Lumley

  “The wind had fled south and the night was still again. As the mist slowly dispersed, the flyers launched from their foothills ledge and came gliding on stretchy membranous wings.

  “Now, the flying mounts of the Wamphyri are monstrous creatures, though not so much for any kind of malevolent activity on their part as for their appearance and nature. For while at first glance they seem like giant, long-necked and long-tailed bats, on closer inspection … plainly they are made from men! Their wings have enormous span, with the alveolate, oncehuman skeletons of arms, legs, and grotesquely extended fingers and toes all visible through the sheathing, grey-gleaming membrane of their envelopes. The creatures have massive hearts, to fuel the muscles that power their great wings; other than that they are little more than airfoils of flexible cartilage and hollow bone in sheaths of light, lean meat. In short, they are mainly wings with very little of mind. Built to fly and obey—with their tiny, walnut brains linked invisibly, mentally, to their riders—they do nothing but what their masters will. Oh, they have bits in their mouths and reins for guidance, but only for emphasis when mental commands go lacking a ready response.

  “So, now you understand me when I speak of ‘flyers, descending towards our clearing on their stretchy membrane wings.’ As for their riders:

  “These soon became visible. Three of the seven—those in the middle of the V-formation—were at ease, arrogant, haughty in their ornate leather saddles; the others were young lieutenants, eager, forward-leaning, and feral-eyed. It was probably the first time they had been allowed to venture forth with Malinari’s tithesmen. But the figure to which every eye was drawn was that in the dead centre of the aerial tableau. To him, and to his mount.

  “That central flyer was by far the largest, strongest, and most elaborately fashioned; a handful of good men—perhaps as many as six or seven—had gone into its construction in Malinari’s vats of metamorphosis in Malstack, in Starside. Gliding down towards the clearing, the huge but human eyes in its half-human head at the end of that long, snaky neck, swung this way and that, seeking an acceptable landing place; while black and seemingly vacant saucer eyes in its belly lidded themselves in preparation, so as not to suffer damage in the landing.

  “Ah, but when I speak of eyes, do not let me forget those of the rider where they glowed like small scarlet lamps in his face. Of course they did, for this was Lord Nephran Matinari—Matinari the Mind himself.

  “His flyer’s wings formed themselves into air-scoops; its tail—the elongated, knuckled spine of a man—swung this way and that, keeping balance; coiled tentacles like springs extended down from belly cavities, their sensitive tips tracing the contours of the ground. Then, with a sighing of air and a folding of wings, the thing set down light as a feather. And flanking it, six lesser beasts likewise touched down, their lieutenant riders out of their saddles and striding to their master’s side all in a few liquid moments. While for those same moments Malinari sat there as if in contemplation, reins loosely clasped, one elbow on the pommel of his saddle, and chin in hand.

  “Then, stirring himself up, he swung lithely down from his mount, sighed, and said, ‘Well, and here we are.’ Simply that, the merest murmur of a sound; yet powered by Malinari’s mentalism, every man, woman, and child in the entire Vadastra settlement heard it! And to every mind he touched—despite that his voice was brandy deep and honey sweet—a certain fetor clinging. For with all his powers of deception, even Malinari could not hide the underlying stench of blood.

  “His mentalism had its limits. Spread thin as this, it was good for seeking out enemies or Szgany in hiding, but very little else. So that having displayed it he now dispensed with it. And the swift withdrawal of his probes felt like water clearing from one’s ears after surfacing from a dive in a deep pool. And now, too, he called for my father Dinu in a voice both rich and strong. But while the brandy depth was still there, the sweetness was all used up. For now it was time for the business.

  “The Vadastras (all except the few favored ones, who were hidden away) were gathered as a clan on that side of the clearing farthest from the barrier mountains, so positioned that all eyes had been enabled to follow the arrival of Malinari and his tithesmen. My father, who stood central and to the fore of this gathering, came with all speed in answer to Malinari’s call and prostrated himself before his acknowledged master. And the vampire Lord stood there a little while, looking down on him, perhaps enjoying his grovelling.

  “But, ahhhh—this Malinari was handsome! He was all of an hundred and sixty years old, but looked no more than forty. His hair was black and shone like a nighthawk’s wing—as well it might, being greased with the fat of Vadastra women! Swept back from the broad dome of his head, behind pointed ears which were not as large or misshapen as the webby, conch-like ears of most Lords, and with its jet ringlets curled on his caped shoulders, while its gleaming black curtain fanned out down his back like the hair of a young girl, or the decorative head plumage of the black eagle … why, it loaned him the haughty looks of a great hunting bird—a veritable nighthawk, aye! And for once it was no deception; for as much as he was anything, Malinari was certainly the bird of prey.

  “And his face, its deathly pallor … the deep-sunken eyes under arcing eyebrows … cheekbones jutting … the high brow rising … slightly flattened nose whose convolute flanges were almost imperceptible … the lean cheeks and perfect bow of his bloodred lips. The red of blood, aye, to match the fire of his eyes. In any other man or vampire the fiery lamps of Malinari’s eyes would be less than ornamental, but they suited The Mind to perfection. Indeed, they loaned his cheeks a ruddy semblance of warmth, of life, while in fact he was the cold and cruel master of something other than life, but not yet death.

  “And tall: he would be two long paces tall, and then some. And slim as a wand, yet strong as a dozen of our best, who were only men. I knew this last for a certainty, for there never was a weak Lord of the Wamphyri. But Malinari’s strength wasn’t of the flesh alone; not only brawn, but brain; not merely muscle, but mind. He was The Mind!

  “And, ‘Up,’ he finally commanded my father. ‘Up, and show me my tribute.’

  “There was no kissing of sandalled feet, nor yet of hands, as my father came erect; no touching of any sort. Such were The Mind’s powers that even a touch could prove harmful, draining a man’s knowledge or erasing part of his memory. And anyway Dinu was Malinari’s trusted servant who would not dare hold anything back from him. This was how it had been between them for many a shameful year. Shameful, aye. For if I’ve not already said that I loathed this cringing, subservient existence, surely by now I have hinted as much?

  “Anyway:

  “My father was big, burly, bearded, and blustering. Rumor had it that he was a bastard, too, but I never heard it bruited in his presence. Puffed up with his own importance, yet somehow managing to bow and scrape, he led Malinari and his men to that side of the clearing where the trestle tables were bowed a little from the weight of the tribute. Here Dinu Vadastra had been as clever as he dared to be, so arranging the trestles that the centre spans were bound to bow a little under any extra weight! Whether or no his ploy fooled anyone, it certainly looked good. And indeed Malinari seemed impressed.

  “Then he and my father conversed. And because Dinu’s caravan stood very close to the trestle tables, and the night being so still now (and likewise all those who were not directly involved, keeping very still), Nadia and I heard their every word.

  “‘Dinu, chief of the clan Vadastra,’ Malinari spoke to my father. ‘It appears you had word of my coming. I would even say you must have had, since you’ve responded with this oh-so-excellent tribute! What’s more, try as I might I cannot remember the time when my tithesmen brought home so handsome a bounty. What? Why, I could even be forgiven for thinking that perhaps they’ve been robbing me all this time. My own lieutenants, like ungrateful dogs, thieving from the house that shelters them … .’

  “He stared at his men—glared at them wi
th eyes of flame, lengthened his jaws and yawned at them a tittle—so that they all drew back a pace … until he grinned a wolf’s grin at them, then threw back his great head and laughed until his hair shimmered all down his back.

  “‘Ah, but see, I have made a joke,’ he said. ‘For all and all, my lieutenants, thralls, and familiar creatures know that to thieve from me is to bid farewell to all this. My rules are made simple, so that even a dullard may understand them. In my manse in Starside dwell many starveling warriors who have their needs no less than men; from time to time they enjoy the occasional tidbit, and to a monster they are especially fond of tidbits that kick and shriek and spurt red … .’

  “And after a pause, turning to my father: ‘Dry work, this joking,’ he said. ‘Are we perhaps thirsty, Dinu Vadastra?’ And he beckoned to his side a junior lieutenant.

  “By then, as might well be imagined, my father was very thirsty. He produced a tray of beaten gold, and three goblets of that same common metal which he filled with white wine from a barrel. This was ever the ritual: that Dinu play the part of one of Lord Malinari’s food-tasters. For like all of the Wamphyri but more so than most, The Mind was susceptible to silver in however small a measure—indeed to granules of silver, to the very dust of silver—and likewise to garlic, whose mere reek was guaranteed to cause nausea and copious vomiting. Thus Dinu would take the first sip, which would provide him with an early opportunity to declare the wine fouled; next the tithesman, who being a vampire would not only taste any poison but react violently to it; and finally Malinari, first inhaling deeply of the wine’s bouquet through his snout’s fleshly funnels, before gulping it down. For however much he affected lordly airs, and, on occasion, a ‘flowery’ or ‘delicate’ mode of speech, still Lord Malinari’s table manners were dreadful!

  “So on through every barrel, a taste from each; the brandies, too, and even the honey. And while my father was sensible enough to drink but sparingly, still he was staggering a little towards the end. As for the foodstuffs—the wild grain, roots and fruits, animals and such, aye, and bairns, too—they were not tested, though for a fact Malinari lingered a while over a fat boy child whose black eyes smiled at him in all innocence, while the monster’s own crimson orbs flared that much brighter in his face … .

  “Then on to the wolf-bitch in her cage: ‘A prize indeed!’ Malinari approved. ‘I may keep her and her whelps both,’ and he made as if to stroke her through the bars. But growling low in her throat, she snapped at him, and Malinari withdrew his hand with no room to spare, saying, ‘Or perhaps not. For wolves are plaguy, treacherous beasts at best. But fine strong meat, Dinu Vadastra, I’ll grant you that. And on that same subject, where, pray, are the rest of my animals—the ones who walk upright?’

  “With which the unfortunate ones, all sorted and chained in a row—a man, a girl, a youth, a woman, and so on—were trooped out for Malinari’s inspection. They had been caused to void themselves (for the sake of “cleanliness,”) then had been washed, groomed, and clad in good fur robes fastened with golden clasps. And there they paraded, most with bowed heads, but a few of the younger men muttering (however unwisely), and the adult women sobbing, and this or that young girl far too prideful, too aware of her lithe Szgany sensuality, head tilted and dark eyes fluttering, daring to gaze on Malinari and even hoping to impress him. Ah, but The Mind was not easily impressed.

  “He walked the line—or rather flowed along it, with that deceptive grace of the Wamphyri—and his tithesmen with him, senior men to the fore and juniors well to the rear. And whenever Malinari paused to look closer at one of his male acquisitions, then his senior lieutenants would step forward and take hold of the man, forcing wide his jaws so that the Great Vampire could examine his teeth. Then they would unfasten his gold clasp, displaying his naked body, and sometimes Malinari might indicate his approval of a youth’s long limbs and broad shoulders, murmuring, This one is for the making, I think. In Malstack, my vats stand empty.’ Or, This one is a fighting man, tall and well-muscled, aye.’ Or again, he might say nothing at all, but simply shake his head. For there was always the provisioning.

  “In a while he came to one of those too-proud girls, who dared to gaze upon him, and paused. Again his senior tithesmen moved forward, one of them reaching for the clasp at the girl’s throat to open her robe. But she was a beauty, and the lieutenant too eager. Noticing this, Lord Malinari caught his hand and stayed it, then narrowed his eyes in a frown, saying:

  “‘Ah, but see how your blood courses, Stefanu. Why, I can feel it pulsing through your veins like a raging river! And so you’re a lustful one, are you? But you know—now that I think of it—I have often wondered why, when I send you out to collect my tithes, I get so few virgins?’

  “‘Master, I—’ said Stefanu, trying to back off. But Malinari held him, saying:

  “‘Ah, ah, be still!’ And he touched the index finger of his free hand to the man’s brow. Stefanu groaned, jerked, began to lift his right hand where it was sheathed in a murderous gauntlet. This was wholly a reflex action, nothing more, but Malinari had seen it. His eyes blazed up at once, like coals under the bellows, and as his jaws elongated and his lips curled back from scythelike teeth, so Stefanu fell to his knees and begged for mercy.

  “Then for long moments Malinari’s index finger trembled on his lieutenant’s forehead, and his face writhed in a passion as he read the man’s thoughts, at least the ones that were important to him. Until suddenly, straining as if from some enormous effort of will, he snatched back his hand and snarled:

  “‘Oh, you miserable, lecherous man! Consider yourself fortunate, for while I have had your thoughts, I’ve left your mind intact. Not out of any love for you, Stefanu Mindsthrall—ravisher of my women before I’ve so much as seen them—but because I may soon have need of you. And treacherous? Did I not see you raise your hand, your war-gloved hand, against me? Did you dare think to strike me? Perhaps you did! And so for now … begone! Remove! Take yourself from my sight. Get to your flyer and wait for me there, and consider your treacherous ways: what you have done this night, and to whom, and what it would be like to live out the rest of your life floundering and drooling, mindless in a pit of your own wastes—which might yet be your get from all this!’

  “He released Stefanu, and when he had wriggled away, stumbled to his feet and fled, Malinari said to the girl, ‘My dear, give me your hand.’ She obeyed him at once. And using his mentalism he saw what only he could see, then asked her, ‘Are you truly a virgin?’

  “‘Oh yes, my Lord,’ she answered. And Malinari nodded and smiled.

  “‘Had you said no,’ he told her, ‘I might have made you a lieutenant’s woman, for your honesty. But I abhor liars, however pretty—especially little whores who would attempt my seduction by trying to hide their thoughts from me. Wherefore … no high station for you, young lady, but there are common thralls in my manse who will enjoy instructing you. Or you them, whichever!’ And wrinkling his nose, he shrugged and turned away from her.

  “Malinari’s inspection was over. And now he told Dinu Vadastra, ‘I am not displeased. Not with you and yours. But you’ve seen how I deal with them who would deny me my due. So now tell me truly: was this the best you could do?’

  “‘The Vadastras have never made finer wines or brandies,’ my father answered. ‘As for the foodstuffs, no better flesh may be bred or hunted, no purer honey or sweeter fruits foraged. On my word, my Lord, this is our best.’

  “‘And what of the tithe in human flesh?’ Malinari glanced at the robed ones in their chains. ‘Are these also the best you have to offer, or do you hold something in reserve?’

  “‘Again I’ve done my best,’ Dinu told him. ‘But certainly I must have a reserve—of good blood, good flesh for breeding—test the Vadastras falter and become useless to you.’

  “And Malinari nodded and said, ‘This was always our understanding, aye. But Dinu, take heed, hard times are coming, and my needs are great. Do you see this dar
k cloud hanging over us, like a portent of ill-omen? What say you, chief of the Vadastras? It seems to me it bodes not well.’

  “And when my father glanced at the heavens—indeed there was a dark and hovering cloud, which until now had gone mainly unnoticed. It turned slowly in the night-dark skies over Vadastra territory, and within its writhing mass, riding the laden air, darker shapes seemed hidden.

  “So that Dinu’s voice was less certain, small and faltering, as he inquired, ‘W-w-what does it mean, my Lord?’

  “But The Mind’s ‘cultured’ tones were grown very deep and menacing now, and his scarlet eyes more truly aflame as he answered, ‘It means that despite our—what, our friendship?—and despite that you have been a true and honest man …’

  “At which point there sounded a small commotion; a fluttering figure appeared at the rim of the tableau, and: ‘What? A true and honest man, this Dinu Vadastra? This so-called chief? This great thief? I say wait, give me but a moment to show you that you are wrong, my Lord!’ The voice was shrill and female.

  “And Nadia, where she huddled close to me in my father’s caravan, started and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. For she had recognized the voice: that of her mother, Melana Zetra, who came hurrying now from her hiding place. And: