bl.necroscope2-第47部分

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d　salts　that　sting；　which　should　stir　him　up。　Wait　here　and　I'll　fetch　them。　And　watch　him！〃
　He　descended　through　a　trapdoor　out　of　sight；　leaving　Ehrig　to　hunch　down　to　his　vigil。　All　of　this　I　saw　through　eyes　three…quarters　shuttered。　But　the　moment　Ehrig　allowed　his　attention　to　wander　I　was　on　him　in　a　trice！　Closing　off　his　windpipe　with　one　hand；　I　snatched　from　my　pocket　a　leather　thong　which　I'd　earlier　removed　from　my　boot。　I　had　intended　it　for　the　Ferenczy's　neck；　but　no　matter。　Wrapping　my　legs　round　Ehrig　to　stop　him　kicking；　I　looped　the　thong　round　his　neck　and　yanked　it　tight；　then　made　a　second　loop　and　tied　it　off。　Choking；　he　tried　to　lurch　to　his　feet；　but　I　slammed　his　head　so　hard　against　the　stone　parapet　that　I　felt　his　skull　shatter。　He　went　limp　and　I　lowered　him　to　the　timbered　floor。
　At　that　moment　my　back　was　to　the　trapdoor；　and　of　course　that　was　when　the　Ferenczy　chose　to　return。　Hissing　his　fury；　he　came　leaping　up　light　as　a　youth…but　his　hands　were　iron　on　me　where　he　took　hold　of　my　hair　and　grasped　the　flesh　between　my　neck　and　shoulder。　Ah；　but　strong　though　he　was；　old　Faethor　was　out　of　practice！　And　my　own　fighting　skills　were　as　fresh　in　my　mind　as　my　last　battle　with　the　Pechenegi。
　I　kneed　him　in　the　groin　and　drove　my　head　up　under　his　great　jaw　so　hard　that　I　heard　his　teeth　crunching。　He　released　me；　fell　to　the　planking　where　I　leaped　astride　him；　but　as　his　fury　waxed；　so　waxed　his　strength。　Calling　on　the　vampire　within；　he　tossed　me　aside　as　easily　as　a　bale　of　straw！　And　in　a　moment　he　was　on　his　feet；　spitting　shattered　teeth；　blood　and　curses　as　he　came　gliding　after　me。
　I　knew　then　that　I　couldn't　beat　him；　not　unarmed；　and　I　cast　all　about　in　the　eerie　twilight　for　a　weapon。　And　found　several。
　Suspended　from　the　high　rear　battlements；　a　row　of　circular　bronze　mirrors　hung　at　different　angles；　two　or　three　of　them　just　catching　the　last　faint　rays　of　sunlight　and　reflecting　them　away　down　the　valley。　The　Ferenczy's　signalling　devices。　Arvos　the　gypsy　had　said　that　the　old　Ferengi　didn't　have　much　use　for　mirrors；　or　for　sunlight。　I　wasn't　exactly　sure　what　he'd　meant；　but　I　seemed　to　remember　something　of　the　sort　from　old　campfire　legends。　In　any　case　I　didn't　have　a　lot　of　choice。　If　Faethor　was　vulnerable；　then　there　was　only　one　sure　way　to　find　out。
　Before　he　could　close　with　me；　and　avoiding　places　where　the　timbers　seemed　suspect；　I　ran　across　the　roof。　He　came　after　me　like　a　great　loping　wolf；　but　pulled　up　short　when　I　tore　down　a　mirror　from　its　fastenings　and　turned　to　face　him。　His　yellow　eyes　went　very　wide　and　he　bared　bloodied　teeth　at　me　like　rows　of　shattered　spires。　He　hissed　and　his　forked　tongue　flickered　like　crimson　lightning　between　his　jaws。
　I　held　the　〃mirror〃　in　my　hands　and　knew　at　once　what　it　was：　a　sturdy　bronze　shield；　possibly　old　Varyagi。　It　had　a　grip　at　the　back　for　my　hand。　Aye；　and　I　knew　how　to　use　it…but　if　only　it　were　spiked　in　the　centre　of　its　face！　Then；　unwitting；　the　burnished　bronze　caught　a　stray　ray　from　the　scythe　of　sun　setting　on　the　hills…caught　it　and　hurled　it　straight　into　Faethor's　snarling　visage。　And　now　I　knew　old　Arvos's　meaning。
　The　vampire　cringed　before　that　blaze　of　sunlight。　He　shrank　down　into　himself；　threw　up　spider　hands　before　his　face；　backed　off　a　pace。　I　was　never　one　to　waste　an　opportunity。　I　pursued；　drove　the　buckler　clanging　into　his　face；　kicked　at　his　loins　again　and　again　as　I　forced　him　back。　And　whenever　he'd　make　to　advance　on　me；　then　I'd　catch　the　sun　and　throw　it　in　his　teeth；　so　that　he　had　no　chance　to　gather　his　reserves。
　In　this　way　I　beat　him　back　across　the　roof；　with　kicks　and　blows　and　blinding　rays　of　sunlight。　Once　his　leg　went　through　the　rotten　roof；　but　he　dragged　it　out　and　continued　to　retreat　before　me；　frothing　and　cursing　his　fury。　And　so　at　last　he　came　up　against　the　parapet　wall。　Beyond　that　parapet　was　eighty　feet　of　thin　air；　then　the　rim　of　the　gorge　and　three　hundred　feet　of　almost　sheer　slope　clad　in　close…packed；　spiky　pines。　Down　at　the　bottom　was　the　bed　of　a　rivulet。　In　short；　a　nightmare　of　vertigo。
　He　looked　over　the　rim；　glanced　at　me　with　eyes　of　fire…eyes　of　fear？　At　which　precise　moment　the　sun　dipped　down　out　of　sight。
　The　change　in　Faethor　was　instantaneous。　The　twilight　deepened；　and　the　Ferenczy　swelled　up　like　some　great　bloating　toadstool！　His　face　split　open　in　the　most　soul…wrenching　smile　of　triumph…which　I　at　once　crushed　under　one　last　battering　blow　of　my　buckler。
　And　over　he　went。
　I　couldn't　believe　that　I'd　got　him。　It　seemed　a　fantasy。　But　even　as　he　toppled　so　I　clung　to　the　parapet　wall　and　peered　after　him。　Then。。。　the　strangest　thing！　I　saw　him　like　a　dark　blot　falling　towards　the　greater　darkness。　But　in　another　moment　the　shape　of　the　blot　changed。　I　thought　I　heard　a　sound　like　a　vast　stretching；　like　giant　knuckles　cracking；　and　the　shape　hurtling　towards　the　trees　and　the　gorge　seemed　to　unfurl　like　a　huge　blanket。　It　no　longer　fell　so　swiftly；　nor　even　vertically。　Instead　it　seemed　to　glide　like　a　leaf；　away　from　the　castle's　walls；　out　a　little　way　over　the　gorge。
　It　dawned　on　me　then　that　in　the　fullness　of　his　powers　Faethor　might　indeed　have　flown；　in　a　fashion；　from　these　battlements。　But　I　had　taken　him　by　surprise；　and　in　the　shock　of　falling　he　had　lost　precious　moments。　Too　late；　he'd　wrought　a　great　change　in　himself；　flattening　himself　like　a　sail　to　trap　the　rushing　air。　Too　late；　because　even　as　I　stared　in　fascination；　so　he　struck　a　high　branch。　Then；　in　a　dark　whirling　and　a　snapping　of　branches；　the　blot　was　gone。　There　followed　from　below　a　series　of　crashes；　a　shriek；　a　final；　distant　thud。　And　silence　。
　I　listened　for　long　moments　in　the　rapidly　deepening　gloom。　Nothing。
　And　then　I　laughed。　Oh；　how　I　laughed！　I　stamped　my　feet　and　thumped　the　top　of　the　parapet　wall。　I'd　got　the　old　bastard；　the　old　devil。　I'd　really　got　him！
　I　stopped　laughing。　True；　I　had　thrown　him　down　from　the　wall。　But。。。　was　he　dead？
　Panic　gripped　me。　Of　all　men；　I　knew　how　difficult　it　was　to　kill　a　vampire。　Proof　of　that　was　right　here　on　the　roof　with　me；　in　the　shape　of　the　gurgling；　fitfully　twitching　Ehrig。　I　hurried　to　him。　His　face　was　blue　and　the　thong　had　buried　itself　in　the　flesh　of　his　neck。　His　skull；　which　had　been　soft　at　the　back　where　I'd　crashed　it　against　the　wall；　was　already　hard。　How　long　before　he　awakened？　In　any　case；　I　couldn't　trust　him。　Not　to　do　what　must　now　be　done。　No；　I　was　on　my　own。
　Quickly　I　carried　Ehrig　back　down　into　the　bowels　of　the　castle；　to　our　cell　in　the　roots　of　one　of　the　towers。　There　I　dumped　him　and　barred　the　door。　Perhaps　the　vampire　filth　under　the　earth　would　find　him　and　devour　him　before　he　recovered　fully。　I　didn't　know　and　cared　much　less。
　Then　I　hurried　through　the　castle；　lighting　lamps　and　candles　wherever　I　found　them；　illuminating　the　place　as　it　had　not　been　lit　in　a　hundred　years。　Perhaps　it　had　never　known　such　light　as　I　now　brought　into　being　in　it。
　There　were　two　entrances：　one　was　across　the　drawbridge　and　through　the　door　I'd　used　when　first　I　arrived　here　escorted　by　Faethor's　wolves；　which　I　now　barred；　the　other　was　from　a　narrow　ledge　in　the　cliff　at　the　rear；　where　a　roofed　over　causeway　of　doubtful　timbers　formed　a　bridge　from　the　ledge　to　a　window　in　the　wall　of　the　second　tower。　Doubtless　this　had　been　the　Ferenczy's　bolthole；　which　he'd　never　had　cause　to　use。　But　if　he　could　get　out　that　way；　so　could　he　get　in。　I　found　oil；　drenched　the　planking；　set　fire　to　the　causeway　and　stayed　long　enough　to　ensure　that　it　was　well　ablaze。
　I　paused　periodically　at　other　embrasures　to　gaze　out　on　the　night。　At　first　there　were　only　the　moon　and　stars；　stray　wisps　of　cloud；　the　valley；　silvered；　touched　occasionally　by　fleeting　shadows。　But　as　I　proceeded　with　my　task　of　lighting　and　securing　the　castle；　so　I　was　aware　that　things　were　beginning　to　stir。　A　wolf　howled　mournfully　afar；　then　closer；　then　many　wolves。　The　trees　in　the　gorge　were　inky　now；　ominous　as　the　gates　to　the　underworld。
　In　the　first　tower　I　found　a　barred；　bolted　room。　A　treasure　house；　maybe？　I　threw　back　the　bolts；　lifted　the　bar；　put　my　shoulder　to　the　door。　But　the　key　had　been　turned　in　the　great　lock　and　removed。　I　leaned　my　ear　to　the　oak　panels　and　listened：　there　was　sly　movement　in　there；　and。。。　whispering？
　Perhaps　it　was　as　well　the　door　was　locked。　Perhaps　it　had　been　locked　not　to　keep　thieves　out　but　something　else。
　
　I　climbed　to　the　hall　where　Faethor　had　poisoned　me；　and　there　found　my　weapons　where　I　had　last　seen　them。　More；　I　took　down　from　the　wall　a　mighty　long…handled　axe。　Then；　armed　to　the　teeth；　I　returned　to　the　locked　room。　There　I　loaded　my　crossbow　and　placed　it　close　to　hand；　stuck　my　sword　point…down　in　a　crack　in　the　floor；　ready　for　grasping；　and　took　both　hands　to　the　axe　in　a　huge　swing　at　the　door。　I　succeeded　with　that　blow　in　caving　in　a　narrow　panel；　but　at　the　same　time　I　dislodged　from　its　hiding　place　atop　the　lintel　a　rusty　iron　key。
　The　key　fitted　the　lock。　I　was　on　the　point　of　turning　it　to　enter；　when　…such　a　clamouring　from　the　wolves！　So　loud　I　could　hear　its　doomful　dinning