bl.necroscope2-第30部分

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u　are　bee　Wamphyri；　then　…〃
　〃Your　name？〃　Thibor　growled。　〃I　don't　want　your　name。
　I　spit　on　your　name！〃　He　shook　his　head　wildly。　〃As　for　your　device：　I've　a　banner　of　my　own。〃
　〃Ah？〃　the　creature　stood　up；　flowed　closer。　〃And　what　are　your　signs？〃
　〃A　bat　of　the　Wallachian　plain；〃　Thibor　answered；　〃astride　the　Christian　dragon。〃
　The　Ferenczy's　bottom　jaw　fell　open。　〃But　that　is　most　propitious。　A　bat；　you　say？　Excellent！　And　riding　the　dragon　of　the　Christians？　Better　still！　And　now　a　third　device：　let　Shaitan　himself　surmount　both。〃
　〃I　don't　need　your　blood…spewing　devil。〃　Thibor　shook　his　head　and　scowled。
　The　Ferenczy　smiled　a　slow；　sinister　smile。　〃Oh；　but　you　will；　you　will。〃　Then　he　laughed　out　loud。　〃Aye；　and　I　shall　avail　myself　of　your　symbols。　When　I　go　out　across　the　world　I　shall　fly　devil；　bat；　and　dragon　all　three。　There；　see　how　I　honour　you！　Henceforth　we　carry　the　same　banner。〃
　Thibor　narrowed　his　eyes。　〃Faethor　Ferenczy；　you　play　with　me　as　a　cat　plays　with　a　mouse。　Why？　You　call　me　your　son；　offer　me　your　name；　your　sigils。　Yet　here　I　hang　in　chains；　with　one　friend　dead　and　another　dying　at　my　feet。　Say　it　now；　you　are　a　madman　and　I'm　your　next　victim。　Isn't　it　so？〃
　The　other　shook　his　wolfish　head。　〃So　little　faith；〃　he　rumbled；　almost　sadly。　〃But　we　shall　see；　we　shall　see。　Now　tell　me；　what　do　you　know　of　the　Wamphyri？〃
　〃Nothing。　Or　very　little。　A　legend；　a　myth。　Freakish　men　who　hide　in　remote　places　and　spring　out　on　peasants　and　small　children　to　frighten　them。　Occasionally　dangerous：　murderers；　vampires；　who　suck　blood　in　the　night　and　swear　it　gives　them　strength。　〃Viesczy〃；　to　the　Russian　peasant；　〃Obour〃；　to　the　Bulgar；　〃Vrykoulakas〃　in　Greek…land。　They　are　names　which　demented　men　attach　to　themselves。　But　there　is　something　mon　to　them　in　all　tongues：　they　are　liars　and　madmen！〃
　〃You　do　not　believe？　You　have　looked　upon　me；　seen　the　wolves　which　I　mand；　the　terror　I　excite　in　the　hearts　of　the　VIad　and　his　priests；　but　you　do　not　believe。〃
　〃I've　said　it　before　and　I'll　say　it　again；〃　Thibor　gave　his　chains　a　last；　frustrated　jerk。　〃The　men　I've　killed　have　all　stayed　dead！　No；　I　do　not　believe。〃
　The　other　gazed　at　his　prisoner　with　burning　eyes。　〃That　is　the　difference　between　us；〃　he　said。　〃For　the　men　I　kill；　if　it　pleases　me　to　kill　them　in　a　certain　way；　do　not　stay　dead。　They　bee　undead。。。〃　He　stood　up；　stepped　flowingly　close。　His　upper　lip　curled　back　at　one　side；　displayed　a　downward　curving　fang　like　a　needle…sharp　tusk。　Thibor　looked　away；　avoided　the　man's　breath；　which　was　like　poison。　And　suddenly　the　Wallach　felt　weak；　hungry；　thirsty。　He　was　sure　he　could　sleep　for　a　week。
　〃How　long　have　I　been　here？〃　he　asked。
　〃Four　days。〃　The　Ferenczy　began　to　pace　to　and　fro。　〃Four　nights　gone　you　climbed　the　narrow　way。　Your　friends　were　unfortunate；　you　remember？　I　fed　you；　gave　you　wine；　alas；　you　found　my　wine　a　little　strong！　Then；　while　you；　er；　rested；　my　familiar　creatures　took　me　to　the　fallen　ones　where　they　lay。　Faithful　old　Arvos；　he　was　dead。　Likewise　your　scrawny　Wallach　rade；　broken　by　sharp　boulders。　My　children　wanted　them　for　themselves；　but　I　had　another　use　for　them　and　so　had　them　dragged　here。　This　one　…；　he　nudged　the　blocky　Wallach　with　a　booted　foot　〃…he　lived。　He　had　fallen　on　Arvos！　He　was　a　little　broken；　but　alive。　I　could　see　he　wouldn't　last　till　morning；　and　I　needed　him；　if　only　to　prove　a　point。　And　so；　like　the　〃myth〃；　the　〃legend〃；　I　fed　upon　him。　I　drank　from　him；　and　in　return　gave　him　something　back；　I　took　of　his　blood；　and　gave　a　little　of　mine。　He　died。　Three　days　and　nights　are　passed　by；　that　which　I　gave　him　worked　in　him　and　a　certain　joining　has　occurred。　Also；　a　healing。　His　broken　parts　are　being　mended。　He　will　soon　rise　up　as　one　of　the　Wamphyri；　to　be　counted　in　the　narrow　ranks　of　The　Elite；　but　ever　in　thrall　to　me！　He　is　undead。〃　The　Ferenczy　paused。
　〃Madman！〃　Thibor　accused　again；　but　with　something　less　of　conviction。　For　the　Ferenczy　had　spoken　of　these　nightmares　so　easily；　with　no　obvious　effort　at　contrivance。　He　could　not　be　what　he　claimed　to　be…no；　of　course　not…but　certainly　he　might　believe　that　he　was。
　The　Ferenczy；　if　he　heard　Thibor's　renewed　accusation　of　madness；　ignored　or　refused　to　acknowledge　it。　〃Unnatural〃；　you　called　me；〃　he　said。　〃Which　is　to　claim　that　you　yourself　know　something　of　nature。　Am　I　correct？　Do　you　understand　life；　the　〃nature〃　of　living；　growing　things？〃
　〃My　fathers　were　farmers；　aye；〃　Thibor　grunted。　〃I've　seen　things　grow。〃
　〃Good！　Then　you'll　know　that　there　are　certain　principles；　and　that　sometimes　they　seem　illogical。　Now　let　me　test　you。　How　say　you：　if　a　man　has　a　tree　of　favourite　apples；　and　he　fears　the　tree　might　die；　how　may　he　reproduce　it　and　retain　the　flavour　of　the　fruit？〃
　〃Riddles？〃
　〃Indulge　me；　pray。〃
　Thibor　shrugged。　〃Two　ways：　by　seed　and　by　cutting。　Plant　an　apple；　and　it　will　grow　into　a　tree。。　But　for　the　true；　original　taste；　take　cuttings　and　nurture　them。　It　is　obvious：　what　are　cuttings　but　continuations　of　the　old　tree？〃
　〃Obvious？〃　the　Ferenczy　raised　his　eyebrows。　〃To　you；　perhaps。　But　it　would　seem　obvious　to　me…and　to　most　men　who　are　not　farmers…that　the　seed　should　give　the　true　taste。　For　what　is　the　seed　but　the　egg　of　the　tree；　eh？　Still；　you　are　of　course　correct；　the　cutting　gives　the　true　taste。　As　for　a　tree　grown　from　seed：　why；　it　is　spawned　of　the　pollens　of　trees　other　than　the　original！　How　then　may　its　fruit　be　the　same？　〃Obvious〃…to　a　tree…grower。〃
　〃Where　does　all　this　lead？〃　Thibor　was　surer　than　ever　of　the　Ferenczy's　madness。
　〃In　the　Wamphyri；〃　the　castle's　master　gazed　full　upon　him；　〃　〃nature〃　requires　no　outside　intervention；　no　foreign　pollens。　Even　the　trees　require　a　mate　with　which　to　reproduce；　but　the　Wamphyri　do　not。　All　we　require　is　a　host。〃
　〃Host？〃　Thibor　frowned；　felt　a　sudden　tremor　in　his　great　legs…the　dampness　of　the　walls；　stiffening　more　cramps　into　his　limbs。
　〃Now　tell　me；〃　Faethor　went　on；　〃what　do　you　know　of　fishing？〃
　〃Eh？　Fishing？　I　was　a　farmer's　son；　and　now　I'm　a　warrior。　What　would　I　know　of　fishing？〃
　Faethor　continued　without　answering　him：　〃In　the　Bulgars　and　in　Turkey…land；　fishermen　fished　in　the　Greek　Sea。　For　years　without　number　they　suffered　a　plague　of　starfish；　in　such　quantities　that　they　ruined　the　fishing　and　their　great　weight　broke　the　nets。　And　the　policy　of　the　fishermen　was　this：　they　would　cut　up　and　kill　any　starfish　they　hauled　in；　and　hurl　it　back　to　feed　the　fish。　Alas；　the　true　fish　does　not　eat　starfish！　And　worse；　from　every　piece　of　starfish；　a　new　one　grows　plete！　And　〃naturally〃；　every　year　there　were　more。　Then　some　wise　fisherman　divined　the　truth；　and　they　began　to　keep　their　unwanted　catches；　bringing　them　ashore；　burning　them　and　scattering　their　ashes　in　the　olive　groves。　Lo　and　behold；　the　plague　dwindled　away；　the　fish　came　back；　the　olives　grew　black　and　juicy。〃
　A　nervous　tic　jumped　in　Thibor's　shoulder：　the　strain　of　hanging　so　long　in　chains；　of　course。　〃Now　you　tell　me；〃　he　answered；　〃what　starfish　have　to　do　with　you　and　I？〃
　〃With　you；　nothing；　not　yet。　But　with　the　Wamphyri　why；　〃nature〃　has　granted　us　the　same　boon！　How　may　you　cut　down　an　enemy　if　each　lopped　portion　sprouts　a　new　body；　eh？〃　Faethor　grinned　through　the　yellow　bone　mesh　of　his　teeth。　〃And　how　may　any　mere　man　kill　a　vampire？　Now　see　why　I　like　you　so　well；　my　son。　For　who　but　a　hero　would　e　up　here　to　destroy　the　indestructible？〃
　In　the　eye　of　Thibor's　memory；　he　heard　again　the　words　of　a　certain　contact　in　the　Kievan　Vlad's　court：
　They　put　stakes　through　their　hearts　and　cut　off　their　heads。。。　better　still；　they　break　them　up　entirely　and　burn　all　the　pieces。　。　even　a　small　part　of　a　vampire　may　grow　whole　again　in　the　body　of　an　unwary　man。。。　like　a　leech；　but　on　the　inside！
　〃In　the　bed　of　the　forest；〃　Faethor　broke　into　his　morbid　thoughts；　〃grow　many　vines。　They　seek　the　light；　and　climb　great　trees　to　reach　the　fresh；　free　air。　Some　〃foolish〃　vines；　as　it　were；　may　even　grow　so　thickly　as　to　kill　their　trees　and　bring　them　crashing　down；　and　so　destroy　themselves。　You've　seen　that；　I'm　sure。　But　others　simply　use　the　great　trunks　of　their　hosts；　they　share　the　earth　and　the　air　and　the　light　between　them；　they　live　out　their　lives　together。　Indeed　some　vines　are　beneficial　to　their　host　trees。　Ah！　But　then　es　the　drought。　The　trees　wither；　blacken；　crumble；　and　the　forest　is　no　more。　But　down　in　the　fertile　earth　the　vines　live　on；　waiting。　Aye；　and　when　more　trees　grow　in　fifty；　an　hundred　years；　back　e　the　vines　to　climb　again　towards　the　light。　Who　is　the　stronger：　the　tree　for　his　girth　and　sturdy　branches；　or　the　slender；　insubstantial　vine　for　his　patience？　If　patience　is　a　virtue；　Thibor　of　Wallachia；　then　the　Wamphyri　are　virtuous　as　all　the　ages　。　。
　〃Trees；　fishes；　vines。〃　Thibor　shook　his　head。　〃You　rave；　Faethor　Ferenczy！〃
　〃All　of　these　things　I've　told　you；〃　the　other　was　undeterred；　〃you　will　understand。。。　eventually。　But　before　you　can　begin　to　understand；　first　you　must　believe　in　me。　In　what　I　am。〃
　〃I'll　never　…〃　Thibor　began；　only　to　be　cut　short。
　〃Oh；　but　you　will！〃　the　Ferenczy　hissed；　his