Bloodwars

by Brian Lumley

  They had: a tiny brass model steam-engine with a shining steel flywheel and a chain drive-belt, and a square magnifying glass in a frame. It took only a moment to fill the boiler with water from Petais’s waterskin, then Nathan placed the engine on a block of sandstone and positioned the glass against a pebble where its lens trapped the sun and focused it on the boiler.

  The sun was very hot; in a little while the safety-valve began to whistle; Nathan barely touched the flywheel and the engine chugged into life. The piston hammered to and fro and the spokes of the flywheel became a blur!

  And to Petais: ‘A little water, and sunlight of which you have ample, equals energy! This is only a small thing, a model. But with a big one, coupled to Shaeken’s hoist —’ he glanced at Atwei and smiled,’- no more aching muscles!’

  ‘We have not the skills!’ Petais protested. Thyre understanding of metalworking would not run to this!’

  ‘But the Szgany do have such skills,’ Nathan answered. ‘And you can avail yourselves of them. With Thyre mirrors to focus the sunlight, and engines like this in caverns in the ground, the desert could be made to bloom!’

  Petais’s jaw had fallen open. For once he had no words, and so said nothing …

  The visit went well, with all of the remaining elders of Place-Under-the-Yellow-Cliffs agreeing to a man that the new oasis in the gorge would make an ideal harbour area for threatened Travellers. It was by now generally accepted that the threat to the Szgany was also a threat to Sunside in its entirety, including the people of the furnace deserts.

  Nathan thanked them humbly, and asked permission to visit the Cavern of the Ancients. He would speak to Shaeken and Tharkel, and let them know how their visions had come to fruition; also to show them the steam-engine. He would keep his visit as brief as possible. Permission was granted, of course.

  But in the Cavern of the Ancients:

  Nathan, strange times! said Shaeken and Tharkel together, almost talking over the top of each other. For we have dreamed weird dreams! Which wasn’t in itself peculiar; Nathan knew that the dead grow weary much like the living, and that they sleep, too, and dream much as they did in life.

  ‘You, too?’ Still, he was mystified, yet perhaps shouldn’t be too surprised; these were strange times, and when better for portents to have power? ‘What are these things you’ve dreamed?’ His reasons for being here, to tell them about the oasis and the steam-engine, were temporarily forgotten.

  I have dreamed … of water! said Shaeken.

  And so have I, said the other, breathlessly. Water to turn the desert green!

  Now Nathan remembered why he was here. ‘But you must know that these weren’t just dreams,’ he said. ‘Water was your lifelong fascination, both of you. You, Shaeken, in

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  that you were a visionary, and saw the importance of the Great Dark River under the desert: its bounty if it could be brought to the surface. And you, Tharkel, because you were a gardener who explored the nature of growing things. In a way you worked towards the same end, and your obsessions stayed with you in death as in life. What you have dreamed is what you felt — an oasis that flourishes even now in the gorge beyond the cliffs which house this mausoleum!’ And now he told them his news. But:

  That is all exciting, said Tharkel, except it does JittJe to explain our dreams. Yes, our obsession was with water, and perhaps the water flowing in the oasis, pumped up by Shaeken’s Ram, has shaken his old bones and stimulated his mind. But my dream was of a world of water, with the desert itself pushed back for mile upon mile! Why, I even dreamed of a fountain!

  ‘But isn’t that the same obsession?’ said Nathan, with a deadspeak shrug. ‘Water, springing from the dry earth?’

  Oh? said Tharkel. From the dry, dead earth, do you mean? Aye, for the fountain I dreamed was on Starside, where it was lit by a soft white light!

  And Shaeken said: Also, I dreamed of thunderclouds in the sky over the desert and great rains, which seemed to me to corroborate Tharkel’s dreams, yet neither one of us can reason it out. We do not know what these things mean!

  Nathan shook his head, frowned, and said, ‘I don’t understand either. Are you trying to tell me you’ve seen into some kind of future? If I had heard it from Thikkoul -‘

  Thikkoul! they both cried at once. But we have spoken to Thikkoul! And Shaeken explained: You must remember, Necroscope, that the Thyre are telepaths in life, and this, too, continues after death. All of the Ancients of the Thyre are now more frequently in contact than ever before. And practice, as they say, makes perfect. What is more, all of the Thyre dead seem filled with visions and portents! Oh, yes, we have spoken to Thikkoul, and recently. And you are right: it appears our talents complement each other!

  ‘How so?’

  We spoke of water, Shaeken answered, and Thikkoul spoke of a great turning of the world.

  Tharkel took it up: It was almost as though … it was as if we animated each other! As if we were linked up, dead mind to dead mind, each vision building upon the one gone before!

  As if our total, Shaeken went on, was greater than the sum of our parts.

  Nathan was surprised to hear such an expression. ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘but that sounds like Ethloi the Mathematician speaking? I talked to him in Open-to-the-Sky, in the Cavern of Long Dreams. That was .. . oh, a long time ago.’

  Ethloi who knows numbers? Shaeken said. Of course, for I was the one who sent you to him. You should speak to him again, for those were Ethloi’s words that I spoke!

  ‘Oh? Is he in on this too? And are his dreams filled with visions and portents?’

  Indeed! And we know that he desires to talk to you.

  ‘He hasn’t said as much.’

  He’s a humble man; Ethloi’s numbers are humble, and yours are legendary! Also, there were a great many who would speak to you first, Nathan. He did not wish to waste your time with his ‘puny symbols’.

  ‘He said that?’

  Yes.

  ‘Symbols? Not numbers?’

  Symbols. Water symbols. The waters that flow between the worlds’. That’s what he said.

  Then I shall be with him shortly, for Open-to-the-Sky is next on my list.’

  When will you go there?

  ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me?’

  Of course, Tharkel and Shaeken told him in unison. And may the One Who Listens go with you …

  Nathan and Misha returned to the Lidesci camp. It was to

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  have been a brief visit, to check on Zek and Chung’s progress before continuing with their round of Thyre colonies; except there had actually been a deal of progress, and Nathan must look into it. Namely, Zek had picked up human thoughts in the forests to the east, near the ruined, deserted town of Twin Fords. David Chung had felt something, too, and after Lardis had sketched a rough map of the area, Chung was able to pinpoint the source.

  ‘It can only be Karl Zestos,’ Lardis grunted, ‘or his survivors, if Karl’s dead. The last I heard, Karl led a small band of Twin Fords folk. Sometimes they lie low in cliff caverns; at others they hide out in the woods; by day they travel and scavenge, of course.’

  Their thoughts were very well guarded,’ Zek said.

  ‘Rightly so,’ Nathan told her. ‘If it had been night, you would have had your work cut out to find them at all!’

  And Lardis asked, ‘Will you go to them?’

  ‘At once, if only to take Karl a little cheer. I like him. He asked me to join him, upon a time. But now … he might be a bit suspicious. I mean, it’s a strange thing that I’ll be showing him.’

  ‘Take me with you,’ said Lardis, nodding. ‘If Karl should find something “suspicious” about me, I’ll box his ears! I can remember when his father, Bela, was boss .. .’

  Taking Chung, Lardis and Andrei with him, Nathan made a jump seven miles east, from where Chung was able to narrow the location of the camp down a little. Nathan’s second jump took them to within
one hundred yards of their target. Then Lardis and Andrei went off on their own through the bushes, and finally hallooed for Nathan and Chung to join them.

  Karl Zestos was just as Nathan remembered him: longhaired, jut-jawed, black-eyed and thin as a pole, but strong. Which was just as well; in the years flown between, even the strongest of men had fallen. ‘I would know you anywhere,’ Karl said, locking forearms with the Necroscope. ‘With your blond hair - a little grey now, I note - and your blue eyes, there can’t be a great many like you.’

  There’s none like this one,’ Lardis told him. ‘He’s Harry Hell-lander’s son - and he has his father’s talents!’ The legend of the original Necroscope was known far and wide, throughout all of Sunside.

  After that: the easiest way to explain their presence here was for Nathan to give a practical demonstration. He issued the usual cautions — told Karl to close his eyes, ignore any dizziness, keep still - and after the other had followed his instructions, took his arm and walked him two paces forward …

  … And two thousand miles east and sixty south!

  It was Crater Lake, but Nathan couldn’t stay. He returned with Karl to Lardis and the others, and waited until Karl had taken several deep breaths and adjusted to events. Finally the truth of it sank in, and the necessary arrangements were completed. It had been Karl’s intention that towards night his people should make for caves in the cliffs behind Twin Fords; now they would wait here for Nathan. There were perhaps a dozen Szgany Zestos in the small camp, mainly women and a handful of children. The rest, the able-bodied men, were out hunting.

  ‘How many people?’ Nathan wanted to know.

  Karl’s mouth turned down. ‘We were a town upon a time,’ he said. And, when the truth of that registered in their memories, ‘Now there are thirty-two of us all told. The dozen or so that you see here, and the rest out earning their keep.’

  ‘I can move you all in a single trip,’ Nathan said. ‘And I will, tonight! Not as far as Crater Lake; maybe Crack-in-the-Rocks. I’ll keep Crater Lake as a refuge of last resort. As for tonight… I calculate that for the first half of the night, at least, the Wamphyri will be occupied with their bloodwar. After that, they’ll need to replenish, to restock what they’ve lost or destroyed, refill their temporary camps with thralls and flesh. If Wratha and the others in Wrathstack survive, they will be in the same position: they’ll require to refuel. Except they won’t discover anything of nourishment in Sunside, not tonight.’

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  Karl passed on information of other survivors to the east, and then Nathan transported Lardis and the others back to camp. The Necroscope’s last words to Karl before leaving were these: ‘Be ready when I come. There may not be much time …’

  With Misha, Nathan visited Open-to-the-Sky. They received the customary Thyre welcome, and in a little while Misha became the first and probably the last Szgany woman to enter the Cavern of Long Dreams. Indeed, of all the Szgany, the Necroscope himself was the only one who had been there before her. While Misha sat quietly and experienced the mystical atmosphere of the mausoleum, Nathan conversed with Ethloi, who told him:

  You could have spoken to me from afar, Necroscope.

  That wasn’t my father’s way, Nathan answered, and except that it can’t be helped, it won’t be mine. Here … I am close to you. That’s how friends should talk. But time is short, and I have heard that you have something to tell me. I shall value your advice even as I valued your teaching that time.

  My teaching? My numbers? Hah! The other brushed the compliment aside. But I have seen yours, Nathan! In fact, I was the student, never the teacher, except I had not the wit to understand the lessons!

  Ridiculous! Nathan answered. And anyway, my numbers were born in me, while yours came from learning. But I’ve been told your dreams are diverse, and that currently … these are not numbers that you’ve dreamed.

  Symbols, aye! Ethloi whispered. Like, and yet unlike, the symbols you once showed to me in your vortex. If there is meaning in them, you might know it. If not … perhaps I am wasting your time. But as you know, we ancients share our thoughts, and our knowledge puts on growth like dripstone on a skeletal stalactite.

  Nathan was fascinated. Show me these symbols.

  And this is what Ethloi showed him:

  But before Nathan could comment, Ethloi continued, Which in my dreams always seems to go hand in hand with this:

  Now Nathan said, I know that one, at least! It is myself, or the symbol by which I know myself. But the other … I can’t say. He shook his head. The wavy lines look like water …

  Ethloi’s deadspeak nod. And I have dreamed of rivers that flow between the worlds!

  There are no such rivers.

  I know.

  For the moment at least, it was all beyond the Necroscope, frustrating beyond reason. If Ethloi’s symbols were numbers, it might be puzzled out. But there were no numbers here, just circles, arrows, water. You could have picked up this water theme from Tharkel and Shaeken.

  Yes, but I don’t think so.

  And that design, (it was impressed on Nathan’s mind as if branded there) could it be … a machine? It somehow reminds me of the steam-engine; it has a feeling of pistons, pressure, movement, power.

  Ethloi showed him the symbols again, with the Mobius

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  Strip laid over or intertwining with them. The Mobius Strip … like the symbol for eternity … like the Mobius Continuum itself: a joining in the fabric of Everywhere and -when, where all other places and times come together. A junction of worlds or indeed, of universes. But . .. rivers that flow between worlds?

  It was on the edge of the Necroscope’s mind like a familiar word that teeters unspoken on the tongue. For a moment his metaphysical mind appeared to grasp it, then let go. And as it slipped away, dissolving to nothing, he sensed all of the same old frustrations mounting, until he felt he must shout, strike out, physically shake them off. The feeling passed, and:

  I’ll think on what you’ve shown me, he said slowly.

  Presently, it was time to go …

  So the day passed.

  Together with Misha, Nathan visited as many of the Thyre colonies as were suitable as temporary Szgany refuges, and not one turned him down. It was time that men got to know the ways and customs of their desert brothers and learned to appreciate them, and vice versa. And the best friends are those who make themselves available in time of need. From this time forward, there would always be a much closer liaison between Szgany and Thyre. An era was over; the time when the Thyre of the desert were considered unmen was past.

  And the Necroscope was as good as his word. In the night Misha had told him that tomorrow she would lie out in the sun with him, in the long prairie grass, but he had told her there was a better place. And there was: the place where he and she had crept into each other’s arms just five months ago, on the day they were married.

  One third of the way through the morning (more than seventeen hours into the long Sunside day) Nathan called a break and carried Misha there via the Continuum, to the spot east of Sanctuary Rock where their nuptial trek had

  taken them. And as before, in a sea of bracken, he threw a skin over the bole of a fallen tree and made it fast to projecting branches to keep the sun off. And they took their fill of love, drank wine and ate bread and cheese, just like before. But before they slept, she took his head on her breasts and, cradling him, said, ‘Didn’t I say you’d remember our first “little house” for the rest of your days? Didn’t I tell you that I would see to it?’

  It seemed a long time ago, but Nathan remembered it well. ‘You did and you did,’ he answered dreamily. ‘And I did, and I always will.’

  Then they slept…

  … And the Necroscope came awake with something -someone - oozing in his mind! He knew him at once, and felt him withdrew like a snake slithering between stones. But by now he knew that he’d had enough of this one.

  Without waking Misha, he
stole a short distance apart from her through the bracken, put up his hand to the twisted loop of gold in his ear, and sent a thought winging for Turgosheim:

  Maglore, I know you. Who else could it be of all the Wamphyri, on the prowl when the sun is up? You kept strange habits, for the beast-thing that you are.’

  For a moment there was no answer, but then the other put aside all pretence and said: And so we have made fools of each other. You of me in Turgosheim, when you hid from me your true nature, your powers, and me of you, ever since that night when you thought that you ‘fled’ from me. But I will admit, Nathan, that 1 was the bigger fool, for there was that in you which I should have seen and explored when 1 had the chance.

  Oh? Nathan answered. And have you seen enough now? You’ll agree that I’ve given you plenty of time, surely? For you see, you didn’t make that much of a fool of me, Maglore. I’ve known about you for some time, and you have only seen what I wanted to show you.

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  The other was silent, and Nathan continued: Anyway, it’s over now. From now on you’ll get as little from me as you do from Vormulac, which is to say, nothing/ Except where Vormulac is dead, I am very much alive!

  And now Maglore hit back, sneering: Ah, ungrateful creature, I know well enough that you’re alive - and just how much ah’ve you are! His mental chuckle was black as pitch. Ask yourself this: who was it sent his Jove-thralJ to you, in order to instruct you? You virgin! You innocent! You have that to thank me for, at least. But now something you’ll never thank me for. Think on this, Nathan: I was with you the night you were wed, and again just an hour or so ago! Oh, I have not enjoyed your woman, your .. . Misha? (Nathan could picture the mocking flutter of the other’s furry eyelashes.) I have not known her with my own member, no -but I have enjoyed you enjoying her!