[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
centuried stacks and brought our aeries crashing down, there seemed no
alternative but flight. The
Dweller had our measure; the Wamphyri were fallen; to remain in the ruins of
Starside would surely bring these Great Enemies down upon us one last time in
a final venting of their furious might.
'However, it is the immemorial right of the fallen to quit Starside and forge
for the Ice lands. Thus, in the lull which followed on the destruction of our
aeries, those survivors who had the means for flight forsook their ancient
territories and headed north. Aye, and I
was one such survivor.
'Along with a pair of aspiring lieutenants - ex-Traveller thralls of mine,
twin brothers named Goram and Belart Largazi, who vied with each other for my
egg - I cleared away the debris of my fallen stack from the deeply buried
entrance to subterranean workshops, so freeing one flyer and one warrior kept
aside and safe against the event of just such a calamity as The Dweller's
victory. These beasts we saddled and mounted (I myself took the warrior, an
ill-tempered creature personally trained to my tastes), finally fleeing on a
course roughly northward from the wrack and ruin of the aeries.
'Our heading was not true north - perhaps a little west of north - what odds?
Page 100
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
The roof of the world is the roof of the world; to left or right it is still
the roof. We paused only once, where a shoal of great blue fishes had got
themselves trapped in the formation of a shallow ice-lake, and there glutted
ourselves before proceeding further.
'Not long after that the Largazi brothers' flyer, burdened as it was with two
riders, became exhausted. It went down at the rim of a shallow sea and left
its riders floundering. I landed on the frozen strand, sent my warrior back to
the Largazis to let down its launching limbs and tow them ashore.
'And then it was that we found ourselves in a very curious place. Hot
blowholes turned the snow yellow; bubbling geysers made warm pools in the
ageless ice; sea birds came down to feed on the froth of small fishes where
they spawned at the ocean's rim. It was the furthest reach of these selfsame
volcanic mountains, which are active still in those weird western extremes.
'After the Largazis were dragged ashore and while they dried themselves out, I
looked for a launching place and discovered a glacier where it sloped
oceanward. There I ordered my creature down on to the ice; aye, for by now
that warrior mount of mine was likewise sore weary - its valiant efforts in
saving the twins from drowning had scarcely buttressed its
file:///G|/rah/Brian%20Lumley/Brian%20Luml...pe%205%20-%20Deadspawn%20V1.0%20(
html).htm (103 of 314) [2/13/2004 10:18:41 PM]
Brian Lumley - Necroscope 5 - Deadspeak vitality. They need to kill and devour
a deal of red meat, warriors, else rapidly fade away to nothing. And so I
thought to myself: which will prove most useful to me in the Icelands?
A powerful warrior, or a pair of bickering, unimportant and ever-hungry
thralls?
Hah!
No contest.
'It was my thought to slaughter one of the brothers there and then, and feed
him to my warrior. Except . . . well, I'll admit it, I'd underestimated that
fine pair of Wamphyri aspirants. They, too, had been busy weighing the odds,
and their conclusions had likewise favoured my fighting beast. Now they backed
off to a safe distance and descended into deep, narrow crevasses from which I
could neither threaten nor tempt them to come out and approach me. Mutinous
dogs! Very well: let them freeze! Let them starve! Let them both die!
'I climbed aboard my warrior and spurred the creature slithering down the
glacier's ramp, until at last it bounded aloft and spurted out over the sea.
And not before time: the launching of that depleted beast had been a very
close-run thing, so that I could almost taste the salt spray from the waves
against the glacier. However, I was now airborne.
'I turned inland, swept high overhead where the treacherous Largazi twins had
emerged from the ice to angle their faces up to me, waved them a scornful
farewell and set course for a line of distant peaks standing in silhouette
against the sky's weaving auroral pulse.
Those same peaks which stand behind us even now, with their central volcanic
cone whose lava vents are guarded - according to the Ferenc, at least - by
sword-snouted monsters.
Aye, the very same.
'Nor would I, nor could
I, call Fess a liar in that respect - in the matter of Volse's death by some
strange and savage creature - for certainly my warrior came to a sad,
suspicious end.
And who can say but that Volse and my poor weary warrior were not victims of
the selfsame bloodbeast?
'I will tell you how it was: my warrior was weary to death . . . well, perhaps
not so weary, for as you know well enow they don't die easily, and rarely of
weariness! But the creature was depleted and panting and complaining. I
scanned the land about and saw lava runs on the higher slopes of the central
cone: good, slippery launching ramps if the warrior should ever again find
Page 101
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
itself fit for flight.
'Alas, the landing was awkward and the beast threw me; it cracked its armoured
carapace, wrenched a vane and tore a propulsion orifice on a jagged lava
outcrop. Many gallons of fluids were lost before its metamorphic flesh webbed
over the gashes and sealed them. My own injuries were slight, however, and I
ignored them; but such was my anger that I cursed and kicked the warrior a
good deal before its mood turned ugly and it began to bellow and spit. Then I
was obliged to calm the brute, and finally I backed it up and hid it from view [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szamanka888.keep.pl
centuried stacks and brought our aeries crashing down, there seemed no
alternative but flight. The
Dweller had our measure; the Wamphyri were fallen; to remain in the ruins of
Starside would surely bring these Great Enemies down upon us one last time in
a final venting of their furious might.
'However, it is the immemorial right of the fallen to quit Starside and forge
for the Ice lands. Thus, in the lull which followed on the destruction of our
aeries, those survivors who had the means for flight forsook their ancient
territories and headed north. Aye, and I
was one such survivor.
'Along with a pair of aspiring lieutenants - ex-Traveller thralls of mine,
twin brothers named Goram and Belart Largazi, who vied with each other for my
egg - I cleared away the debris of my fallen stack from the deeply buried
entrance to subterranean workshops, so freeing one flyer and one warrior kept
aside and safe against the event of just such a calamity as The Dweller's
victory. These beasts we saddled and mounted (I myself took the warrior, an
ill-tempered creature personally trained to my tastes), finally fleeing on a
course roughly northward from the wrack and ruin of the aeries.
'Our heading was not true north - perhaps a little west of north - what odds?
Page 100
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
The roof of the world is the roof of the world; to left or right it is still
the roof. We paused only once, where a shoal of great blue fishes had got
themselves trapped in the formation of a shallow ice-lake, and there glutted
ourselves before proceeding further.
'Not long after that the Largazi brothers' flyer, burdened as it was with two
riders, became exhausted. It went down at the rim of a shallow sea and left
its riders floundering. I landed on the frozen strand, sent my warrior back to
the Largazis to let down its launching limbs and tow them ashore.
'And then it was that we found ourselves in a very curious place. Hot
blowholes turned the snow yellow; bubbling geysers made warm pools in the
ageless ice; sea birds came down to feed on the froth of small fishes where
they spawned at the ocean's rim. It was the furthest reach of these selfsame
volcanic mountains, which are active still in those weird western extremes.
'After the Largazis were dragged ashore and while they dried themselves out, I
looked for a launching place and discovered a glacier where it sloped
oceanward. There I ordered my creature down on to the ice; aye, for by now
that warrior mount of mine was likewise sore weary - its valiant efforts in
saving the twins from drowning had scarcely buttressed its
file:///G|/rah/Brian%20Lumley/Brian%20Luml...pe%205%20-%20Deadspawn%20V1.0%20(
html).htm (103 of 314) [2/13/2004 10:18:41 PM]
Brian Lumley - Necroscope 5 - Deadspeak vitality. They need to kill and devour
a deal of red meat, warriors, else rapidly fade away to nothing. And so I
thought to myself: which will prove most useful to me in the Icelands?
A powerful warrior, or a pair of bickering, unimportant and ever-hungry
thralls?
Hah!
No contest.
'It was my thought to slaughter one of the brothers there and then, and feed
him to my warrior. Except . . . well, I'll admit it, I'd underestimated that
fine pair of Wamphyri aspirants. They, too, had been busy weighing the odds,
and their conclusions had likewise favoured my fighting beast. Now they backed
off to a safe distance and descended into deep, narrow crevasses from which I
could neither threaten nor tempt them to come out and approach me. Mutinous
dogs! Very well: let them freeze! Let them starve! Let them both die!
'I climbed aboard my warrior and spurred the creature slithering down the
glacier's ramp, until at last it bounded aloft and spurted out over the sea.
And not before time: the launching of that depleted beast had been a very
close-run thing, so that I could almost taste the salt spray from the waves
against the glacier. However, I was now airborne.
'I turned inland, swept high overhead where the treacherous Largazi twins had
emerged from the ice to angle their faces up to me, waved them a scornful
farewell and set course for a line of distant peaks standing in silhouette
against the sky's weaving auroral pulse.
Those same peaks which stand behind us even now, with their central volcanic
cone whose lava vents are guarded - according to the Ferenc, at least - by
sword-snouted monsters.
Aye, the very same.
'Nor would I, nor could
I, call Fess a liar in that respect - in the matter of Volse's death by some
strange and savage creature - for certainly my warrior came to a sad,
suspicious end.
And who can say but that Volse and my poor weary warrior were not victims of
the selfsame bloodbeast?
'I will tell you how it was: my warrior was weary to death . . . well, perhaps
not so weary, for as you know well enow they don't die easily, and rarely of
weariness! But the creature was depleted and panting and complaining. I
scanned the land about and saw lava runs on the higher slopes of the central
cone: good, slippery launching ramps if the warrior should ever again find
Page 101
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
itself fit for flight.
'Alas, the landing was awkward and the beast threw me; it cracked its armoured
carapace, wrenched a vane and tore a propulsion orifice on a jagged lava
outcrop. Many gallons of fluids were lost before its metamorphic flesh webbed
over the gashes and sealed them. My own injuries were slight, however, and I
ignored them; but such was my anger that I cursed and kicked the warrior a
good deal before its mood turned ugly and it began to bellow and spit. Then I
was obliged to calm the brute, and finally I backed it up and hid it from view [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]