bl.necroscope2-第31部分

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　〃I'll　never　…〃　Thibor　began；　only　to　be　cut　short。
　〃Oh；　but　you　will！〃　the　Ferenczy　hissed；　his　awful　tongue　lashing　in　the　cave　of　his　mouth。　〃Now　listen：　I　have　willed　my　egg。　I　have　brought　it　on　and　it　is　forming　even　now。　Each　of　the　Wamphyri　has　but　one　egg；　one　seed；　in　a　lifetime；　one　chance　to　recreate　the　true　fruit；　one　opportunity　to　carve　his　changeling　〃nature〃　into　the　living　being　of　another。　You　are　the　host　I　have　chosen　for　my　egg。〃
　〃Your　egg？〃　Thibor　wrinkled　his　nose；　scowled；　drew　back　as　far　as　his　chains　would　allow。　〃Your　seed？　You　are　beyond　help；　Faethor。〃
　〃Alas；〃　said　the　other；　lip　curling　and　great　nostrils　flaring；　〃but　you　are　the　one　who　is　beyond　help！〃　His　cloak　billowed　as　he　flowed　towards　the　broken　body　of　old　Arvos。　He　hoisted　the　gypsy's　corpse　upright　in　one　hand；　like　a　bundle。　of　rags；　perched　it；　head　stiffly　lolling；　in　a　niche　in　the　stone　wall。　〃We　have　no　sex　as　such；〃　he　said；　glaring　across　the　cell　at　Thibor。　〃Only　the　sex　of　our　hosts。　Ah！　But　we　multiply　their　zest　an　hundred　times！　We　have　no　lust　except　theirs；　which　we　double　and　redouble。　We　may；　and　do；　drive　them　to　excesses…in　all　of　their　passions…but　we　heal　their　wounds；　too；　when　the　excess　is　too　great　for　human　flesh　and　blood　to　endure。　And　with　long；　long　years；　even　centuries；　so　man　and　vampire　grow　into　one　creature。　They　bee　inseparable；　except　under　extreme　duress。　I；　who　was　a　man；　have　now　reached　just　such　a　maturity。　So　shall　you；　in　perhaps　a　thousand　years。〃
　
　Once　more；　futilely；　Thibor　tugged　at　his　chains。　Impossible　to　break　or　even　strain　them。　He　could　put　a　thumb　through　each　link！
　〃About　the　Wamphyri；〃　Faethor　continued。　〃Just　as　there　are　in　the　mon　world　widely　differing　sorts　of　the　same　basic　creature…owl　and　gull　and　sparrow；　fox　and　hound　and　wolf…so　are　there　varying　Wamphyri　states　and　conditions：　For　example：　we　talked　about　taking　cuttings　from　an　apple　tree。　Yes；　it　might　be　easier　if　you　think　of　it　that　way。〃
　He　stooped；　dragged　the　unconscious；　twitching　body　of　the　squat　Wallach　away　from　the　area　of　torn　up　flags；　tossed　old　Arvos'　corpse　down　upon　the　black　soil。　Then　he　tore　open　the　old　man's　ragged　shirt；　and　glanced　up　from　where　he　knelt　into　Thibor's　mystified　eyes。　〃Is　there　sufficient　light；　my　son？　Can　you　see？〃
　〃I　see　a　madman　clearly　enough；〃　Thibor　gave　a　brusque　nod。
　The　Ferenczy　returned　his　nod；　and　again　he　smiled　his　hideous　smile；　the　ivory　of　his　teeth　gleaming　in　lantern　light。　〃Then　see　this！〃　he　hissed。
　Kneeling　beside　old　Arvos'　crumpled　form；　he　extended　a　forefinger　towards　the　gypsy's　naked　chest。　Thibor　watched。　Faethor's　forearm　stuck　out　free　of　his　robe。　Whatever　the　Ferenczy　was　up　to；　there　could　be　no　trickery；　no　sleight　of　hand　here。
　Faethor's　nails　were　long　and　sharply　pointed　at　the　end　of　his　even；　slender　fingers。　Thibor　saw　the　quick　of　the　pointing　finger　turn　red　and　start　to　drip　blood。　The　pink　nail　cracked　open　like　the　brittle　shell　of　a　nut；　flapped　loosely　like　a　trapdoor　on　a　finger　bloating　and　pulsating。　Blue　and　grey…green　veins　stood　out　in　that　member；　writhing　under　the　skin；　the　raw　tip　visibly　lengthened；　extending　itself　towards　the　dead　gypsy's　cold　grey　flesh。
　The　pulsating　digit　was　no　longer　a　finger　as　such：　it　was　a　pseudopod　of　unflesh；　a　throbbing　rod　of　living　matter；　a　stiff　snake　shorn　of　its　skin。　Now　twice；　now　three　times　its　former　length；　it　vibrated　down　at　an　angle　to　within　inches　of　its　target；　which　appeared　to　be　the　dead　man's　heart。　And　all　of　this　Thibor　watched　with　bulging　eyes；　bated　breath　and　gaping　mouth。
　And　until　this　moment　Thibor　had　not　really　known　fear；　but　now　he　did。　Thibor　the　Wallach…warlord　of　however　small　and　ragged　an　army；　humourless；　merciless　killer　of　the　Pechenegi…utterly　fearless　Thibor；　until　now。　Until　now　he'd　not　met　a　creature　he　feared。　In　the　hunt；　wild　boar　in　the　forests；　which　had　wounded　men　so　badly　as　to　kill　them；　were　〃piglets〃　to　him。　In　the　challenge：　let　any　man　only　dare　hurl　down　the　gauntlet；　Thibor　would　fight　him　any　way　he　chose。　All　knew　it；　and　none　chose！　And　in　battle：　he　led　from　the　front；　stood　at　the　head　of　the　charge；　could　only　ever　be　found　in　the　thick　of　the　fighting。　Fear？　It　was　a　word　without　meaning。　Fear　of　what？　When　he　had　ridden　out　to　battle；　he'd　known　each　day　might　be　his　last。　That　had　not　deterred　him。　So　black　was　his　hatred　of　the　invaders；　of　all　enemies；　that　it　simply　engulfed　fear　and　put　it　down。　No　creature；　or　man；　or　threat　of　any　device　of　men　had　ever　unmanned　him　since。。。　oh；　before　he　could　remember：　since　he　was　a　child；　if　ever　he'd　been　one。　But　Faethor　Ferenczy　was　something　other　than　all　of　these。　Torture　could　only　maim　and　must　kill　in　the　end；　and　there's　no　pain　after　death；　but　what　the　Ferenczy　threatened　seemed　an　eternity　of　hell。　Mere　moments　ago　it　had　been　a　strange　fantasy；　the　dreams　of　a　madman；　but　now。　。
　Unable　to　tear　his　eyes　away；　Thibor　groaned　and　grew　pale　at　the　sight　of　that　which　followed。
　〃A　cutting；　aye；〃　Faethor's　voice　was　low；　trembling　with　dark　passions；　〃to　be　nurtured　in　flesh　already　tainted　and　falling　into　decay。　The　lowest　form　of　Wamphyri　existence；　it　will　e　to　nothing　so　long　as　it　has　no　living　host。　But　it　will　live；　devour；　grow　strong…and　hide！　When　there　is　nothing　left　of　Arvos　it　will　hide　in　the　earth　and　wait。　Like　the　vine；　waiting　for　a　tree。　The　cut…off　leg　of　a　starfish；　which　does　not　die　but　waits　to　grow　a　new　body…except　this　thing　I　make　waits　to　inhabit　one！　Mindless；　unthinking；　it　will　be　a　thing　of　the　most　primitive　instincts。　But　it　can　nevertheless　outlast　the　ages。　Until　some　unwary　man　finds　it；　and　it　finds　him。。。〃
　His　incredible；　bloody；　throbbing　forefinger　touched　Arvos'　flesh。。。　and　leprous　white　rootlets　sprang　forth；　slid　like　worms　in　earth　into　the　gypsy's　chest！　Small　flaps　of　fretted　skin　were　laid　back；　the　pseudopod　developed　tiny　glistening　teeth　of　its　own；　it　began　to　gnaw　its　way　inside。　Thibor　would　have　looked　away　but　he　could　not。　Faethor's　〃finger〃　broke　off　with　a　soft　tearing　sound　and　quickly　burrowed　its　way　out　of　sight　within　the　corpse。
　Faethor　held　up　his　hand。　The　severed　member　was　shrinking　back　into　him；　pseudoflesh　melting　into　his　flesh。　The　cancerous　colours　went　out　of　it；　it　assumed　a　more　normal　shape；　the　old　fingernail　fell　to　the　floor；　and　right　in　front　of　Thibor's　eyes　a　new；　pink　shell　began　to　form。
　〃Well　then；　my　hero　son　who　came　here　to　kill　me；〃　Faethor　slowly　stood　up　and　held　out　his　hand　toward　Thibor's　bloodless　face。　〃And　could　you　have　killed　this？〃
　Thibor　drew　back　his　face；　head　and　body；　tried　to　cringe　into　the　very　stone　to　avoid　that　pointing　finger。　But　Faethor　only　laughed。　〃What？　You　think　that　I　would。。。　？　But　no；　no；　not　you；　my　son。　Oh；　I　could；　be　sure！　And　forever　you'd　be　in　thrall　to　me。　But　that　is　the　second　state　of　the　Wamphyri　and　unworthy　of　you。
　
　No；　for　I　hold　you　in　the　highest　esteem。　Why；　you　shall　have　my　very　egg！〃
　Thibor　tried　to　find　words　but　his　throat　lacked　moisture；　was　dry　as　a　desert。　Faethor　laughed　again　and　drew　back　that　threatening　hand　of　his。　He　turned　away　and　stepped　to　where　the　squat　Wallach　lay　humped　on　the　stone　flags；　gurglingly　breathing；　face　down　in　a　dusty　corner。　〃He　is　in　that　second　state；〃　Thibor's　tormentor　explained。　〃I　took　from　him　and　gave　him　something　back。　Flesh　of　my　flesh　is　in　him　now；　healing　him；　changing　him。　His　tears　and　broken　bones　will　mend　and　he　will　live…for　as　long　as　I　will　it。　But　he　will　always　be　slave　to　me；　to　do　my　bidding；　obey　my　every　mand。　You　see；　he　is　vampire；　but　without　vampire　mind。　The　mind　es　only　from　the　egg　and　he　is　not　grown　from　seed　but　is　merely。。。　a　cutting。　When　he　wakes；　which　will　be　soon；　then　you　will　understand。〃
　〃Understand？〃　Thibor　found　his　voice；　however　cracked。　〃But　how　can　I　understand？　Why　should　I　want　to　understand？　You　are　a　monster；　I　understand　that！　Arvos　is　dead；　and　yet　you。。。　you　did　that　to　him！　Why？　Nothing　can　live　in　him　now　but　maggots。〃
　Faethor　shook　his　head。　〃No；　his　flesh　is　like　fertile　soil…or　the　fertile　sea。　Think　of　the　starfish。〃
　〃You　will　grow　another。。。　another　you？　Inside　him？〃　Thibor　was　very　nearly　gibbering　now。
　〃It　will　consume　him；〃　Faethor　answered。　〃But　another　me…no。　I　have　mind。　It　will　not　have　mind。　Arvos　cannot　be　a　host　for　his　mind　is　dead；　do　you　see？　He　is　food；　nothing　more。　When　it　grows　it　will　not　be　like　me。　Only　like。。。　what　you　saw。〃　He　held　up　his　pale；　newly　formed　index　finger。
　〃And　the　other？〃　Thibor　managed　to　nod　in　the　direction　of　the　man…that　which　had　been　a　man…snoring　and　gasping　in　the　corner。…〃When　I　took　him　he　was　alive；〃　said　Faethor。　〃His　mind　was　alive。　What　I　gave　him　is　now　growing　in　his　body；　and　in　his　mind。　Oh；　he　died；　but　only　to　make　way　for　the　life　of　the　Wamphyri。　Which　is　not　life　but　undeath。　He　will　not　return　to　true　life　but　to　undeath。〃
　〃Madness！〃　Thibor　moaned。
　〃As　for　this　one　…；　The　Ferenczy　stepped　into　shadows　on　the　far　side　of　the　cell；　where　the　light　did　not　quite　reach。　The　legs　and　one　arm　of　Thibor's　second　Wallach　rade　protruded　from　the　darkness；　until　Faethor　dragged　all　o