Necroscope 9: The Lost Years (67 page)

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Authors: Brian Lumley

Tags: #Keogh; Harry (Fictitious Character), #England, #Vampires, #Mystery & Detective, #Horror, #Fiction - Horror, #General, #Harry (Fictitious character), #Keogh, #Horror - General, #Horror Fiction, #Fiction

And if he was not the whole man? If his parasite had lost its light and the fever rose up in him again, resurgent after all these years? That was where Harry Keogh came into the picture; it was the role that Radu saw him playing in that final scene. Metempsychosis, aye.

Because in the year preceding the dog-Lord’s awakening, he would use his superior powers of beguilement - that hypnotism which was his art above all others - to transfer his
detailed
memories into Harry’s mind. And if when he arose he discovered his body riddled with disease, about to succumb and suffer the true death, then he would cause his leech to flee his body into Harry’s. Indeed, he would scarcely need to ‘cause’ it, for the natural tenacity of the parasite - its lust for life - would see to that. And if by chance the leech itself could not transfuse, if it should be obstructed, then it would issue its egg, swiftest and surest of al carriers of vampirism!

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But in the moment of transfusion, by, whichever method, the dog-Lord would atempt his greatest wonder. Radu
was
an incredibly powerful mentalist, a telepath without peer. And with his own uniformly scarlet gaze, he would burn out Harry’s mind and project himself through Harry’s own honey-brown eyes into his mentality. He would
be
Harry Keogh.

Or more properly, Harry would
become
him. With Radu’s egg, or leech, al of his memories and his mind entire … he would
be
Radu. Why, eventualy, through metamorphism, he would even come to look like him, would wear the dog-Lord’s face. The Man With two Faces, aye.

That was Lord Radu Lykan’s plan.

But on the other hand - if he should rise up again a whole man or creature, free of the plague - then there would be other uses for the Mysterious One. And they were far less of a mystery. For one thing, there’d be a hungry warrior to see to …

It was 2:30. Harry stirred and mumbled something in his sleep, and it was as good a time as any.

B.J. shushed him, checked that he was still deeply asleep, reached across him and toppled a smouldering block of firewood, oak, she thought, from the back of the deep old-fashioned fireplace into the glowing embers. Then she slid out from under the blanket that she’d drawn over them, crossed the room and turned on a reading-lamp at Harry’s desk. And aiming it directly into Harry’s face, his shut eyes, she at once blocked the beam with her naked body and quickly returned to him.

Then she lay beside him and propped herself on one elbow, turned and looked at the lamp. And narrowing her eyes to close out the rest of the room, she nodded and congratulated herself that the glowing sphere of light looked not unlike a ful moon, the principal image, the trigger, that was already implanted in his mind.

The rest of it was down to power of wil, the intensity of her own eyes and voice and mind, to which he’d already succumbed on previous occasions.

And she breathed, ‘Harry, mah wee man. Are ye listening?’ It was a deep, purring, penetrating Scotish brogue, which she breathed into his nostrils as wel as his ears. Her scent, her musk, infiltrated Harry’s system, his dreams and subconscious, and for a moment his eyelids flutered, then were still, as he mumbled:

‘Y-yes.’

‘Good,’ she purred. And dropping the accent: ‘Harry, you
will
listen to me, and you
will
obey me. Is that understood?’

‘Y-yes.’

And as quickly, as easily as that, she had taken command of his mind. It still seemed amazing to B.J. that control was so simple over a mind

she’d suspected of being so complex! And so far she’d used only the
human
side of her wil, while there was that in her which was much stronger and far and away superior to anything human. But now, because of the ultimately esoteric nature of what she must tell Harry -as a prelude to what Radu would eventualy instil into him - B.J. had need of that greater, alien strength of wil.

Again leaving their makeshift bed before the fire, she went to the patio windows and opened the curtains. High over the garden, a three-quarter-ful moon poured its silvery light on her, which pooled around her and turned her to an alabaster statue. She opened her arms wide, sighed, and reached up, letting the moonlight flood her psyche and drawing strength from it. And this time her metamorphosis was that much easier.

Colours flowed, flesh rippled, moved, rearranged. There sounded a crackle of static electricity as fur bristled, stood erect, and setled down on B.J. ‘s flanks. And drawing the curtains again, and faling to al fours, she went back to Harry.

And cradling him, and lusting after his flesh (but denying herself, because her lust was no longer sexual), she commanded that he open his eyes and gaze upon the glorious moon, and that he
see
only her eyes, in the moonlight flooding from his reading-lamp. Then, burning the message home with her furnace gaze, she told him what he must know if he was to go out into the world as the dog-Lord’s spy, to seek out the Drakuls and the Ferenczys: knowledge he would retain in his innermost being without even realizing it was there. Likewise any information he might gather: no other would be privy to it - Harry himself would scarcely be aware of its existence - until B.J. or Radu Lykan drew it out of him.

And as her husky, she-wolfs voice coughed, rumbled and occasionaly whined through the long night hours, telling its truths, half-truths, and damned lies -mainly as she herself had heard the story from the dog-Lord Radu, and employing his mode of expression - so the Necroscope absorbed al that she told him, soaking it up as a bone-dry sponge soaks water …

Haaaarry! Harry Keogh, listen to me. Listen, and remember all that I shall tell you. But these are secret things - this is secret knowledge - for
you and you alone. Retain it, and use it when the time is right. But at other times forget it, lest it harm you irrepairably.

Harry, there is a world other than this world. A place, a space, other than ours. It has a name, SunsidelStarside, where there are men … and
other than men. There are barrier mountains, which keep the two races apart. Sunside of the mountains dwell men; Starside is
home to the Wamphyri. The Wamphyri
were
men, but no longer. Now they are greater than men; they are the vampire Lords of a vampire
world.

Brian Lumley

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In the earliest times of the vampire world, Lord Shaitan of the Wamphyri was the greatest of the Starside Lords. The others rose
up against him, and he defeated them. Many of them whom he took prisoner were executed in various ways; they were put into deep
graves to stiffen to stones in the earth, or were banished into the bitter-cold Icelands. But others were thrown into the Starside Gate,
which was thought to be the throat of a vampire hell. In fact it was a true Gate
… to
this world, our world! Except having come
here, they could not go back, for the Gate had closed behind them.

Among them who came through with their thralls were several of the vilest of men, creatures whose evil was quite beyond the
imagining of mundane minds: the Drakul brothers, Karl and Egon, and Nonari the Gross Ferenczy. And these awesome Lords
were destined to become the forebears of vampirism in this world, even as they had been among its first progenitors in Starside.

But there was one other who was banished with them, and
He
was honourable even among the Wamphyri, where true honour
never existed. His name was Radu Lykan, a so-called - ‘dog-Lord,’ whose mistress was the moon, and whose shape and affinity
were more like unto the noble wolf than the ill-omened bat. Oh, Radu was Wamphyri, but in his nature he was above them as men
are above rats.

And for a thousand years Radu ran with the wolves and was one with the wild of this world … a
creature
of Nature, aye, and
different from the vile and terrible Lords who came out of Starside with him. He desired only to go his own way, doing no harm to
men but living alongside them, unseen in the woods and mountain heights. His prey were the wild things, and his drink was the
clean, clear water of mountain streams.

But as for the Drakuls and Ferenczys: they were - they
are -
a monstrous scourge and the source of a legend as wide as a world.

The legend of the vampire! And Radu, because he
is
Wamphyri, has been tarred with their brush. In that ancient world where he
came forth out of Starside, down all the years of his freedom in the wild, even unto these modern times, he is known by a terrible
name and an undeserved reputation:
werewolf!
And despite that he was never guilty of Drakul and Ferenczy excesses and
atrocities, he bears the selfsame taint and his memory is likewise cursed.

His memory, aye …

Because he is no more,
nothing
in this world but an ancient creature in a cavern lair.
Nothing
but a bad dream, which was never
given the opportunity to clear its name. Because he was driven into hiding, made to seek refuge and relinquish his life in the wild as
a veritable Force of Nature, by his olden Starside enemies. Six hundred years ago, in a time of war and famine and pestilence, they
sought him out, to pursue him and put him down. But he evaded them and theirs by hiding himself away in a mountainous redoubt.

Except it is a redoubt in name only. Untenanted,

unprotected, it is more a lair, a sanctuary - a place of refuge - than a fortress.

But even there the dog-Lord Radu is not safe. Even there, even now, he is ‘dogged’ by the sons of the sons of his olden Starside
enemies. For while the descendants - the spawn - of vile Drakuls and Ferenczys are ignorant of Radu s whereabouts, still they
know that he is not dead but undead, dreaming in a place of his own, and they cannot bear that he yet abides.

For when Lord Lykan’s sleep of centuries is done, he will be up again and return to his woods and mountains. Except this time he
will not suffer such as his enemies to live. This time he will seek
them
out, wherever they are disguised as men, and deal with them
as they would deal with him.

But… it will not be easy. For even in those bygone days six hundred years ago, already the Wamphyri were adept at hiding
themselves away among men! And the Ferenczys especially so. Let me tell you what I know of their history, Harry, as it was told to
me by my Master, the dog-Lord Radu Lykan. But remember: as a family-tree of infamy, this history of the Wamphyri is incomplete;
it ends where Radu retired to his mountain hideaway. And in all the time gone by since then … ah, but who can say what is become
of such creatures now, their place in the world today? Well, I can say. Something of them at least.

First the Drakuls:

As told, there were two of them came through the Gate with Radu: Karl and Egon. Black Karl, as he was known - not for the
colour of his skin but that of his heart - met up with Radu in Ainjalut in 1260. Karl was with the Mongols (as was a certain
Ferenczy, who ran off when he saw how all was lost; I will tell you about
him
later) and Radu with the Mamelukes, who were
triumphant. Wherefore we needn’t any longer concern ourselves with Karl! Thereafter, however, Egon Drakul was far more
mindful of a Wamphyri maxim here in this world: that anonymity is synonymous with longevity! Perhaps it was because Radu was
actively hunting the Drakuls down -perhaps Egon had simply had enough of the slaughter of the times? - whichever, he
disappeared for a while, and for long and long Radu could discover nothing of his whereabouts …

… But some ninety years later Radu’s spies reported Egon’s presence in Poland! Alas, Radu only learned of this when he was
in France en-route for England, fleeing from the scourge of the Black Death, else he would have gone to Poland at once.

Too late … He fell ill… Even as the Black Death began to burn itself out-in its initial manifestation at least-so
the dog-Lord went into ‘hibernation’ in his secret mountain refuge. But he left certain tried and trusted thralls
behind, to look after his interests down the centuries …

Of the latter: there weren’t many. Most of his ‘pups’ had been taken by the plague; others had died building his retreat; only the hardy
descendants ofMirlus and Tirenis, recruited out ofSunside in the vampire world, when Radu was a Starside Lord, lived to survive
him - and then only by

Brian Lumley

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virtue of their isolation, the inaccessible mountain heights in which they worked.

But when Radu was safely asleep in his great sarcophagus, then they went down into Scotland to settle the land
around, or to wait out the last days of the plague before returning abroad to more familiar lands and territories. Ah,
how could they know that the plague wasn’t finished with them, that scarcely a decade would pass for the next four centuries
without it returning again and again to scythe among them? For since they were moonchildren all, and ofRadu’s blood, its
contagion was deadly to them no less than leprosy to the vampire Lords ofStarside.

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