bl.necroscope2-第14部分

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again。　And　down　in　the　cold　earth　in　the　glade　of　stirless　trees；　where　the　stones　of　his　mausoleum　lay　broken　and　matted　with　lichens；　the　nightmare　Thing　dreamed　on。。。
　The　way　widened；　grew　into　an　avenue　of　tall　dark　pines　atop　a　broad　levelled　rim　of　ages…impacted　scree。　On　Thibor's　left　hand；　beyond　the　straight　boles　of　the　pines；　smooth　black　rocks　rose　vertical　through　hundreds　of　feet　to　an　indigo　sky　strewn　with　stars；　on　his　right　the　trees　massed；　marched　down　the　no　longer　sheer　〃V　of　the　gorge　and　steeply　up　the　other　side。　At　the　bottom　water　gushed　and　gurgled；　invisible　beneath　a　night…black　canopy。　The　Vlad　had　been　right：　given　a　handful　of　men…or　wolves…the　Ferenczy　could　easily　defend　his　castle　against　an　army。　Inside　the　castle　itself；　however；　things　might　be　different。　Especially　if　the　Boyar　were　indeed　a　man　alone　or　nearly　so。
　Finally　the　ancient　pile　itself　loomed。　Its　stonework　was　massive；　but　pitted；　rotten。　On　both　sides　of　the　defile　huge　towers　rose　up　eighty　feet　and　more；　square　and　very　nearly　featureless　at　their　broad　bases；　higher　up　there　were　arched；　fortified　windows；　ledges　and　balconies　with　deep　embrasures；　and　gaping　stone　spouts　projecting　from　the　mouths　of　carved　gargoyle　or　kraken　heads。　At　the　top　of　each　tower；　more　embrasures　fronted　tiled　pyramid　spires；　but　with　gaping　holes　showing　through；　where　repairs　were　badly　needed；　and　over　everything　a　heavy　miasma　of　decay；　a　dank　and　clinging　patina；　as　if　the　very　stone　issued　a　cold　and　clammy　sweat。
　Half…way　up；　the　inward…facing　walls　sprouted　flying　buttresses　almost　as　massive　as　the　towers　themselves；　which　met　across　the　gorge　in　a　single　span…like　a　stone　bridge　some　eighty　or　ninety　feet　from　tower　to　tower。　Supported　by　the　buttresses；　a　long　single…storey　hall　with　small　square　windows　was　constructed　of　timbers。　It　had　a　peaked　roof　of　heavy　slates；　hall　and　roof　both　were　in　the　same　generally　poor　condition　as　the　towers。　But　for　the　fact　that　two　of　the　windows　were　lit　with　a　flickering　illumination；　the　entire　pile　might　seem　deserted；　derelict。　It　was　not　how　Thibor　imagined　the　residence　of　a　great　Boyar　should　look；　on　the　other　hand；　if　he　were　a　superstitious　man；　certainly　he　might　believe　that　demons　lived　there。
　The　ranks　of　wolves　began　to　thin　out　as　they　drew　closer　to　the　castle's　walls。　Moving　forward；　it　was　not　until　the　Wallach　stood　in　the　very　shadow　of　those　walls　that　he　saw　the　castle's　simple　defences：　a　trench　fifteen　feet　wide　and　fifteen　deep；　excavated　right　down　to　solid　rock；　the　bottom　furnished　with　long　pointed　stakes　setso　close　to　each　other　that　any　man　falling　in　must　surelybe　speared。　Then；　too；　he　saw　the　door：　a　heavy；　oak…　boarded；　iron…banded　affair　extended　at　its　top　to　form　adrawbridge。　And　even　as　he　looked；　so　the　door　was　creakingly　lowered；　heavy　chains　rattling　as　the　trench　was　bridged。
　In　the　opening　thus　revealed　stood　a　cloaked　figure　holding　before　him　a　flaring　torch。　Behind　the　glare　of　that　brand；　little　could　be　seen　of　features　but　a　blur；　all　that　Thibor　could　make　of　them　was　their　paleness；　and　a　vague　awareness　of　grotesque　proportions。　He　had　his　suspicions；　however；　and　more　than　suspicions…which　were　fully　borne　out　on　the　instant　that　the　figure　spoke：　〃And　so　you　have　e…of　your　own　free　will。〃
　Thibor　had　often　been　accused　of　being　a　cold　man　with　a　cold；　emotionless　voice。　It　was　something　he　had　never　denied。　But　if　his　voice　was　cold；　this　voice　might　have　issued　from　the　grave　itself。　And　where　Thibor　had　found　the　voice　soothing　in　the　first　instance；　now　it　grated　on　his　nerves　like　the　ache　of　a　rotten　tooth；　or　cold　steel　on　a　living　bone。　It　was　old…hoary　as　the　mountains；　and　possibly　entrusted　with　as　many　secrets…but　it　was　certainly　not　infirm。　It　held　the　authority　of　all　dark　knowledge。
　〃My　own　free　will？〃　Thibor　dared　to　look　away　from　the　figure；　saw　that　he　was　quite　alone。　The　wolves　had　melted　into　the　night；　into　the　mountains。　Perhaps　a　single　pair　of　yellow　eyes　gleamed　for　a　moment　under　the　trees；　but　that　was　all。　He　turned　back　to　face　his　host。　〃Yes；　of　my　own　free　will。。。〃
　Then　you　are　wele。〃　The　Boyar　fixed　his　torch　in　a　bracket　just　inside　the　doorway；　bowed　a　little　from　the　waist；　stood　to　one　side。　And　Thibor　crossed　the　drawbridge；　made　to　enter　the　house　of　the　Ferenczy。　But　in　the　moment　before　he　entered；　he　glanced　up；　saw　the　legend　burned　into　the　age…blackened　oak　of　the　arched　lintel。　He　couldn't　read　or　write；　but　the　cloaked　man　saw　his　glance　and　translated　for　him：
　〃It　says　that　this　is　the　house　of　Waldemar　Ferrenzig。
　There　is　also　a　sign　which　dates　it；　showing　that　the　castle　is　nearly　two　hundred　years　old。　Waldemar　was。。。　he　was　my　father。　I　am　Faethor　Ferrenzig；　whom　my　people　call　〃the　Ferenczy〃。
　There　was　a　fierce　pride　now　in　that　dark　voice；　and　for　the　first　time　Thibor　felt　himself　unsure。　He　knew　nothing　of　the　castle；　there　might　easily　be　many　men　lying　in　wait；　the　open　door　gaped　like　the　maw　of　some　unknown　beast。
　〃I　have　made　preparations；〃　said　Thibor's　host。　〃Food　and　drink；　and　a　fire　to　warm　your　bones。〃　He　deliberately　turned　his　back；　took　a　second　torch　from　a　dark　niche　in　the　wall　and　lit　it　from　the　first。　As　flames　caught　hold；　so　the　shadows　fled。　The　Ferenczy　glanced　once　at　his　guest；　unsmiling；　then　led　the　way　inside。　And　the　Wallach　followed。
　They　passed　quickly　through　dark　corridors　of　stone；　anterooms；　narrow　doorways；　into　the　heart　of　the　tower；　then　up　a　spiralling　stone　stairway　to　a　heavy　trapdoor　in　a　floor　of　stone　flags　supported　by　great　black　timbers。
　The　trapdoor　stood　open　and　the　Ferenczy　gathered　up　his　cloak　before　climbing　through　into　a　well　lighted　room。　Thibor　followed　close　behind；　allowing　the　other　no　time　to　be　on　his　own。　As　he　emerged　into　the　room　he　shivered。　It　would　have　been　so　very　easy　for　someone…to　spear　him　or　lop　off　his　head　as　he　came　up　through　the　trapdoor。　But　apart　from　the　pile's　master；　the　roomwas　empty　of　men。　Thibor　glanced　at　his　host；　looked　all　around。　The　room　was　long；　broad；　high。overhead；　a　ceiling　of　timbers　was　badly　gapped；　flickering　firelight　showed　a　slate　roof　above　the　ceiling；　missing　tiles　permitted　a　glimpse　of　stars　swimming　in　smoke　from　the　fire。　Theplace　was　somewhat　open　to　the　weather。　In　winter　it　would　be　bitterly　cold。　Even　now　it　would　not　be　warm　if　not　for　the　fire。
　The　fire　was　of　pine　logs；　roaring　in　a　huge　open　fireplace　with　a　chimney　built　at　an　angle　to　pass　through　an　exterior　wall。　The　logs　burned　on　a　cradle　of　warped　iron　bars；　twisted　with　the　heat　of　many　such　fires。　At　the　fire's　front；　six　spitted　woodcocks　were　roasting　over　red　ashes。　Sprinkled　with　herbs；　the　smell　of　their　flesh　was　mouth…watering。
　Close　to　the　fireplace　stood　a　heavy　table　and　two　chairs　of　oak。　On　the　table　were　wooden　platters；　eating　knives；　a　stone　pitcher　of　wine　or　water。　In　the　centre　of　the　table　the　roasted　joint　of　some　beast　still　smoked。　There　was　a　bowl　of　dried　fruits；　too；　and　another　containing　slices　of　coarse　dark　bread。　It　was　not　intended　that　Thibor　should　starve！
　He　glanced　again　at　the　wall　with　the　fireplace；　its　base　was　of　stone；　but　higher　up　it　was　of　timber。　There　was　also　a　square　window；　open　to　the　night。　He　crossed　to　the　window；　looked　out　and　down　on　a　dizzy　scene：　the　ravine；　dark　with　close…packed　firs；　and　away　in　the　east　the　vast　black　forests。　And　now　the　Voevod　knew　that　he　was　in　a　room　of　the　castle's　central　span　where　it　crossed　the　narrow　gorge　between　the　towers。
　〃Are　you　nervous；　Wallach？〃　Faethor　Ferenczy's　soft　voice　（soft　now；　aye）　startled　him。
　〃Nervous？〃　Thibor　slowly　shook　his　head。　〃Bemused；　that's　all。　Surprised。　You　are　alone　here！〃
　〃Oh？　And　did　you　expect　something　else？　Didn't　Arvos　the　gypsy　tell　you　I　was　alone？〃
　Thibor　narrowed　his　eyes。　〃He　told　me　several　things…and　now　he's　dead。〃
　The　other　showed　not　the　slightest　flicker　of　surprise；　nor　of　remorse。　〃Death　es　to　all　men；〃　he　said。
　〃My　two　friends；　they're　also　dead。〃　Thibor　hardened　his　tone　of　voice。
　The　Ferenczy　merely　shrugged。　〃The　way　up　is　hard。　It's　cost　many　lives　over　the　years。　But　friends；　did　you　say？　Th