bl.necroscope2-第7章

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eyond　Galich；　in　that　area　called　the　Khorvaty　after　a　certain　people；　there　lives　a　Boyar　who　is。。。　not　my　friend。　I　claim　him　as　one　who　owes　allegiance　to　me；　but　when　I　called　in　all　my　little　princelings　and　Boyars　he　came　not。　When　I　invite　him　to　Kiev　he　answers　not。　When　I　express　a　desire　to　meet　with　him　he　ignores　me。　If　he　is　not　my　friend　then　he　can　only　be　my　enemy。　He　is　a　dog　that　es　not　to　heel。　A　wild　dog；　and　his　home　is　a　mountain　fastness。　Until　now　I've　had　neither　the　time；　the　inclination；　nor　the　power　to　winkle　him　out；　but…〃
　〃What？〃　Thibor　was　astonished；　his　gasp　cutting　the　Vlad　short。　〃I'm　sorry；　my　Prince；　but　you…no　power？〃
　Vladimir　Svyatoslavich　shook　his　head。　〃You　don't　understand；〃　he　said。　〃Of　course　I　have　power。　Kiev　has　power。　But　all　so　extended　as　to　be　almost　expended！　Should　I　recall　an　army　to　deal　with　one　unruly　princeling？　And　in　so　doing　let　the　Pechenegi　e　up　again？　Should　I　form　up　an　army　from　farmers　and　officials　and　peasants；　all　unskilled　in　battle？　And　if　I　did；　what　then？　An　army　could　not　bring　this　Ferenczy　out　of　his　castle　if　he　did　not　wish　to　leave　it。　Even　an　army　could　not　destroy　him；　his　defences　are　so　strong！　What？　They　are　the　mountain　passes　themselves；　the　gorges；　the　avalanches！　With　a　handful　of　fierce；　faithful　retainers；　he　could　hold　back　any　army　I　muster　almost　indefinitely。　Oh；　if　I　had　two　thousand　men　to　spare；　then　I　might　possibly　starve　him　with　a　siege；　but　at　what　expense？　On　the　other　hand；　what　an　army　cannot　achieve　might　just　be　possible…for　one　brave　and　clever　and　loyal　man。。。〃
　〃Are　you　saying　you　want　this　Ferenczy　taken　from　his　castle　and　brought　to　you　in　Kiev？〃
　〃Too　late　for　that；　Thibor。　He　has　shown　how　he　〃respects〃　me。　How　then　should　I　respect　him？　No；　I　want　him　dead！　His　lands　then　fall　to　me；　his　castle　on　the　heights；　his　household　and　serfs。　And　his　death　will　be　an　example　to　others　who　might　think　to　stand　apart。〃
　Then　you　don't　want　his　thumbs　but　his　head！〃　Thibor's　chuckle　was　throaty；　without　humour。
　〃I　want　his　head；　his　heart；　and　his　standard。　And　I　want　to　burn　all　three　on　a　bonfire　right　here　in　Kiev！〃
　〃His　standard？　He　has　a　symbol；　then；　this　Ferenczy？　Might　I　enquire　the　nature　of　this　blazon？〃
　〃By　all　means；〃　said　the　prince；　his　grey　eyes　suddenly　thoughtful。　He　lowered　his　voice；　cast　about　in　the　dusk　for　a　moment；　as　if　to　be　doubly　sure　that　no　one　heard。　〃His　mark　is　the　horned　head　of　a　devil；　with　a　forked　tongue　that　drips　gouts　of　blood。。。〃
　Blood！
　Gouts　of　blood　soaking　into　the　black　earth。　The　sun　had　touched　the　horizon　and　was　burning　red　there　like。。。　like　a　great　gout　of　blood。　Soon　the　earth　would　swallow　it　up。　The　old　Thing　in　the　ground　trembled　again；　its　husk　of　leather　and　bone　slowly　cracked　open　like　a　desiccated　sponge　to　receive　the　earth's　tribute；　the　blood　that　soaked　through　leaf…mould　and　roots　and　black；　centuried　soil　down　to　where　the　thousand…year…old　Thibor…creature　lay　in　his　shallow　grave。
　Subconsciously　Thibor　sensed　the　seeping　blood　and　knew；　in　the　way　all　dreamers　〃know〃；　that　it　was　only　part　of　the　dream。　It　would　be　a　different　matter　when　the　sun　had　set　and　the　seepage　actually　touched　him；　but　for　now　he　ignored　it；　returned　to　that　time　at　the　turn　of　the　tenth　century　when　he'd　been　merely　human　and　had　gone　up　into　the　Khorvaty　on　a　mission　of　murder。。。
　They　had　travelled　as　trappers；　Thibor　and　his　seven；　as　Wallachians　who　followed　the　Carpathian　curve　on　a　trek　designed　to　get　them　deep　into　the　northern　forests　by　the　onset　of　winter。　In　fact　they　had　simply　e　from　Kiev　through　Kolomyya　and　so　to　the　mountains；　but　they'd　taken　all　the　paraphernalia　of　the　trapper　with　them；　to　substantiate　their　story。　It　had　taken　them　three　weeks　of　steady　riding　to　reach　the　place　in　the　very　lee　of　the　sheer　mountains；　（a　〃village〃；　consisting　of　a　handful　of　stone　houses　built　into　the　hillside；　half…a…dozen　semi…permanent　cabins；　and　a　smattering　of　gypsy　tents　of　cured　skins　with　the　fur　inside）　which　the　current　incumbents　called　Moupho　Aide　Ferenc　Yaborov；　a　mouthful　they　invariably　shortened　to　Ferenc；　which　they　made　to　sound　like　〃Ferengi〃。　It　meant　〃Place　of　the　Old　One〃；　or　〃of　the　Old　Ferengi〃；　and　the　gypsies　spoke　of　it　in　lowered　tones　and　with　a　deal　of　respect。
　There　were　maybe　a　hundred　men　there；　some　thirty　women　and　as　many　children。　Half　of　the　men　were　trappers　passing　through；　or　prospective　settlers　uprooted　by　Pechenegi　raids；　on　their　way　to　find　homes　further　north。　Many　of　the　latter　group　had　their　families　with　them。　The　remainder　were　either　peasant　inhabitants　of　Ferengi　Yaborov；　or　gypsies　e　here　to　winter　it　out。　They'd　been　ing　since　time　immemorial；　apparently；　for　〃the　old　devil〃　who　was　Boyar　here　was　good　to　them　and　turned　none　away。　Indeed；　in　times　of　hardship　he'd　even　been　known　to　supply　his　wandering　occasional　tenants　with　food　from　his　own　larder　and　wine　from　his　cellars。
　Thibor；　asking　about　food　and　drink　for　himself　and　the　others；　was　shown　a　house　of　timbers　set　in　a　stand　of　pines。　It　was　an　inn　of　sorts；　with　tiny　rooms　up　in　the　rafters　which　could　only　be　reached　by　rope　ladders；　the　ladders　were　drawn　up　when　the　boarder　wished　to　sleep。　Down　below　there　were　wooden　tables　and　stools；　and　at　one　end　of　the　large　room　a　bar　stocked　with　small　kegs　of　plum　brandy　and　buckets　of　sweet　ale。　One　wall　was　built　half　of　stone；　where　burned　a　fire　in　the　base　of　a　huge　chimney。　On　the　fire　was　an　iron　pot　of　goulash　giving　out　a　heavy　paprika　reek。　Onions　dangled　in　bunches　from　nails　in　the　wall　close　to　the　fire；　likewise　huge　coarse…skinned　sausages；　black　bread　stood　in　loaves　on　the　tables；　baked　in　a　stone　oven　to　one　side　of　the　fire。
　A　man；　his　wife　and　one　scruffy　son　ran　the　place；　gypsies；　Thibor　guessed；　who'd　chosen　to　settle　here。　They　could　have　done　better；　he　thought；　feeling　cold　in　the　shadows　of　the　looming　rocks；　the　mountains　whose　presence　could　be　felt　even　indoors。　It　was　a　gloomy　place　this；　frowning　and　foreboding。
　The　Wallach　had　told　his　men　to　speak　to　no　one；　but　as　they　put　away　their　gear；　ate　and　drank；　spoke　in　muffled　tones　to　each　other；　he　himself　shared　a　jug　of　brandy　with　his　host。　〃Who　are　you？〃　that　gnarled　old　man　asked　him。
　〃Do　you　ask　what　I　have　been　and　where　I　have　been？〃　Thibor　answered。　〃That's　easier　to　tell　than　who　I　am。〃
　〃Tell　it　then；　if　you　feel　like　talking。〃
　Thibor　smiled　and　sipped　brandy。　〃I　was　a　young　boy　under　the　Carpatii。　My　father　was　an　Ungar　who　wandered　into　the　borders　of　the　southern　steppe　to　farm…him　and　his　brothers　and　kin　and　their　families。　I'll　be　brief：　came　the　Pechenegi；　all　was　uprooted；　our　settlement　destroyed。　Since　then　I've　wandered；　fought　the　barbarian　for　payment　and　what　little　I　could　find　on　his　body；　done　what　I　could　where　and　whenever。　Now　I'll　be　a　trapper。　I've　seen　the　mountains；　the　steppe；　the　forests。　Farming's　a　hard　life　and　blood…letting　makes　a　man　bitter。　But　in　the　towns　and　cities　there's　money　to　be　had　from　furs。　You've　roamed　a　bit　yourself；　I'll　vow？〃
　〃Here　and　there；〃　the　other　shrugged；　nodded。　He　was　swarthy　as　smoke…grimed　leather；　wrinkled　as　a　walnut　from　extremes　of　weather；　lean　as　a　wolf。　Not　young　by　any　standards；　still　his　hair　was　shiny　black；　his　eyes　too；　and　he　seemed　to　have　all　of　his　teeth。　But　he　moved　his　limbs　carefully　and　his　hands　were　very　crooked。　〃I'd　be　doing　it　still　if　my　bones　hadn't　started　to　seize　up。　We　had　a　cart　of　two　wheels　wrapped　in　leather；　which　we'd　break　down　and　carry　when　the　way　was　rough。　Upon　the　cart　we　took　our　house　and　goods　along　with　us：　a　big　tent　with　rooms；　and　cooking　pots；　and　tools。　We　were…we　are…Szgany；　gypsies；　and　became　Szgany　Ferengi　when　I　built　this　place　here。〃　He　craned　his　neck　and　looked　up；　wide…eyed；　at　one　interior　wall　of　the　house。　It　was　a　look　half　respectful；　half　fearful。　There　was　no　window　but　the　Wallach　knew　that　the　old　man　stared　up　at　the　mountain　peaks。
　〃Szgany　Ferengi？〃　Thibor　repeated。　〃You　ally　yourself　to　the　Boyar　Ferenczy　in　his　castle；　then？〃
　The　old　gypsy　lowered　his　eyes　from　the　unseen　heights；　drew　back　a　little；　took　on　a　suspicious　look。　Thibor　quickly　poured　him　more　of　his　own　brandy。　The　other　remained　silent　and　the　Wallach　shrugged。　〃No　matter；　it's　just　that　I've　heard　good　things　of　him；〃　he　lied。　〃My　father　knew　him；　once。。。〃
　〃Indeed！〃　the　old　man's　eyes　widened。
　Thibor　nodded。　〃One　cold　winter；　the　Ferenczy　gave　him　shelter　in　his　castle。　My　father　told　me；　if　ever　I　passed　this　way；　I　should　go　up　and　remind　the　Boyar　of　that　time；　and　thank　him　on　behalf　of　my　father。〃
　The　old　man　stared　at　Thibor　for　long　moments。　〃So；　you've　heard　good　things　of　our　master；　have　you？　From　your　father；　eh？　And　you　were　born　under　the　mountains。。。〃
　〃Is　something　strange？〃　Thibor　raised　a　dark　eyebrow。
　The　other　looked　him　up　and　down。　〃You're　a　big　man；〃　he　said；　grudgingly；　〃and　strong；　I　can　tell。　Also；　you　look　fierce。　A　Wallach；　eh；　whose　fathers　were　Ungars？　Well；　perhaps　you　are；　perhaps　you　are。〃
　〃Perhaps　I　am　what？〃
　〃It's　said；〃　the　gypsy　whispered；　drawing　closer；　〃that　the　old　Ferengi's　true　sons　always　e　home　to　roost。　In　the　end　they　e　here；　seek　him　out…seek　out　their　father！　Would　you　climb　up　to　see　him？〃
　Thibor　put　on　a　look　of　indecision。　He　shrugged。　〃I　might；　if　I　knew　the　way。　But　these　cliffs　and　passes　are　treacherous。〃
　〃I　know　the　way。〃
　〃You've　been　there？〃　Thibor　tried　not　to　seem　too　eager。
　The　old　man　nodded。　〃Oh；　yes；　and　I　could　take　you。　But　would　you　go　alone？　The　Ferengi's　not　one　for　too　many　visitors。〃
　Thibor　appeared　to　give　it　some　little　thought。　〃I'd　want　to　take　two　of　my　friends；　at　least。　In　case　the　way　gets　rough。〃
　〃Huh！　If　these　old　bones　can　make　it；　surely　yours　can！　Just　two　of　them？〃
　〃For　assistance　in　the　steep　places。〃
　Thibor's　host　pursed　his　lips。　〃It　would　cost　you　a　little　something。　My　time　and。。。〃
　That's　understood；〃　the　Wallach　stopped　him。
　The　gypsy　scratched　his　ear。　〃What　do　you　know　of　the　old　Ferengi？　What　have　you　heard　of　him？〃
　Thibor　saw　a　chance　for　knowledge。　Getting　information　out　of　people　such　as　these　was　like　drawing　the　teeth　of　a　bear！　〃I've　heard　he　has　a　great　pany　of　men　garrisoned　with　him；　and　that　his　castle　is　a　fastness　impenetrable。　Because　of　this　he　swears　no　fealty；　pays　no　taxes　on　his　lands；　for　none　may　collect　it。〃
　〃Hah！　The　old　gypsy　laughed　out　loud；　thumped　the　bar；　poured　more　brandy。　〃A　pany　of　men？　Retainers？
　Serfs？　He　has　none！　A　woman　or　two；　perhaps；　but　no　men。　Only　the　wolves　guard　those　passes。　As　for　his　castle：　it　hugs　the　cliff。　One　way　in…for　mere　men…and　the　same　way　out。　Unless　some　unwary　fool　leans　too　far　from　a　window。。。〃
　As　he　paused　his　eyes　because　suspicious　again。　〃And　did　your　father　tell　you　that　the　Ferengi　had　men？〃
　Thibor's　father　had　told　him　nothing；　of　course。　Nor　had　the　Vlad；　for　that　matter。　What　little　he　knew　was　superstitious　twaddle　he'd　had　from　a　fellow　at　court；　a　foolish　man　who　didn't　much　care　for　the　prince　and　who　in　turn　was　little　cared　for。　Thibor　had　no　time　for　ghosts：　he　knew　how　many　men　he'd　killed；　and　not　a　man　of　them　had　e　back　to　haunt　him。