bl.necroscope2-第10部分
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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。
He decided to take a chance。 He'd already learned much of what he wanted to know。 〃My father said only that the way was steep； and that when he was there； many men were camped in and about the castle。〃
The old man stared at him； slowly nodded。 〃It could be； it could be。 The Szgany have often wintered with him。〃 He came to a decision。 〃Very well； I will take you up…if he will see you。〃 He laughed at Thibor's raised eyebrows； led him out of the house into the quiet of the afternoon。 On their way the gypsy took a huge bronze frying pan from its peg。
A weak sun was poised； preparing itself for setting over the grey peaks。 The mountains brought an early twilight here； where already the birds were singing their evening songs。 〃We are in time；〃 the old man nodded。 〃And now we must hope that we are seen。〃
He pointed steeply upwards at the looming mountains； to where a high； jagged black crest etched itself against the grey of the ultimate peaks。 〃You see there； where the darkness is deepest？〃
Thibor nodded。
That's the castle。 Now watch。〃 He polished the bottom of the pan on his sleeve； then turned it towards the sun。 Catching the weak rays； he threw them back into the mountains and traced a line of gold up the crags。 Fainter and fainter the disc of light flickered with distance； jumping from scree to flat rock face； from fangs to fir clump； from trees back to crumbling shale as it climbed ever higher。 And finally it seemed to Thibor that the ray was answered； for when at last the gypsy held the pan stiffly in his gnarled hands； suddenly that dark； angular outcrop he'd pointed out seemed to burst into golden fire！ The lance of light was so sudden； so blinding； that the Wallach threw up his hands before his eyes and peered through the bars of his fingers。
〃Is that him？〃 he gasped。 〃Is it the Boyar himself who answers？〃
〃The old Ferengi？〃 The gypsy laughed uproariously。 Carefully he propped up the pan on a flat rock； and still the beam of light glanced down from on high。 〃No； not him。 The sun's no friend of his。 Nor any mirror； for that matter！〃 He laughed again； and then explained。 〃It's a mirror； burnished bright； one of several which sit above the rear wall of the keep where it meets the cliff。 Now； if our signal is seen； someone will cover the mirror…which merely shoots back our beam…and the light will be snuffed out。 Not gradually； as by the sun's slow descent； but all at once…like that！〃
Like a candle snuffed； the beam blinked out； leaving Thibor almost staggering in what seemed a preternatural gloom。 He steadied himself。 〃So； it would seem you've established contact；〃 he said。 〃Plainly the Boyar has seen that you have something to convey； but how will he know what it is？〃
〃He will know；〃 said the gypsy。 He grasped Thibor'sarm；staredup into the high passes。A glaze came suddenly over the old man's eyes and he swayed。 Thibor held him up。 And：
〃There； now he knows；〃 the old man whispered。 The film went from his wide eyes。
〃What？〃 Thibor was puzzled； he felt trouble
