Authors: Mick Farren
More Than Mortal (52 page)
Again the Highlanders were muttering. The words “fuck the moral burden” were repeated at least twice, but it was impossible for Renquist to tell who had uttered them. He was more intrigued that the coven seemed to be arguing as one for the preservation of the Merlin, and
he wondered what their agenda might be. He continued to wonder as the Lady of the Craft resumed. “It is one of the last of its kind. In fact, it could be the last. There may be no more. Far from destroying it, shouldn’t we be seeking a way to safely preserve it? Once it’s gone, it will never come again.”
he wondered what their agenda might be. He continued to wonder as the Lady of the Craft resumed. “It is one of the last of its kind. In fact, it could be the last. There may be no more. Far from destroying it, shouldn’t we be seeking a way to safely preserve it? Once it’s gone, it will never come again.”
Taking a cue from Lupo, Renquist didn’t stand, but he made his voice heard over the Highlanders’ grumbling undertow. “The argument of the Lady of the Craft does have a certain merit. We would be destroying a crucial link with our own past and origins.”
Fenrior turned and faced him, and Renquist wished to hell he’d take off the dark glasses. “So Victor, you do stand with Taliesin after all?”
The debate had come full circle, and they were back to the impeachment of his loyalty again. He let show some of his distaste for the turn of events. “No, my lord, I merely thought the point of our friend here was worthy of consideration.”
Fenrior shook his head. “I fear, Victor, you are too much the historian. Can the Urshu really be considered a species? It does not breed like a human or perpetuate its kind in the way of the nosferatu. It’s a relic, and I know you love relics, Victor. I would be the first to admit I share the same fascination, but I believe it is a dangerous relic, like an ancient toxin, an artifact that proves cursed or radioactive, or a disease suddenly flourishing again long after being thought eradicated. My instincts are that the Merlin must go. He is nothing but a sorry relic of Marduk Ra and the Nephilim who sought to enslave and destroy us. Let’s hold the method of his going for the moment, and just consider how safe it would be to permit such a thing to continue. What say the rest of you? Gethsemany?”
Gethsemany didn’t hesitate. “It must be destroyed.”
“Gallowglass?”
“Aye, m’ lord. It was a noble experiment, but put an end t’ i’.”
“Ladies of the Craft?”
The Mistress spoke for all of them. “We reserve our judgment for the present.”
Fenrior didn’t seem pleased. “So be it. Theda?”
“Kill it.”
“Cyrce?”
“Kill it.”
One by one, as Fenrior continued down the length of the table, the responses seemed unanimous. “Kill it.”
“Kill i’.”
“Destroy it.”
“Kill it.”
“Aye, kill i’.”
“Kill i’.”
“Kill it.”
“Kill.”
“Yes, kill it.”
“Aye. Do away wi’ th’ bloody thing.”
“Aye.”
“Kill i’.”
All seemed to be in agreement, and of the principal protagonists, only Renquist had yet to speak. “Victor?”
His would, by no means, be the deciding vote, but he knew the comfort of his immediate future would be seriously affected by his yea or nay. Yet he couldn’t just be ensuring his own comfort. Too much was at stake, and in the ancient unreality of the Great Hall, of the Castle Fenrior itself, in the midst of this unprecedented gathering of the undead, he could all too easily be carried along by the prevailing mass consciousness of fear and threatened pride. And then there was the temptation of the Merlin. What had he offered? “A world for nosferatu, by nosferatu, without the need to ever again hide.” Was that not a prize to at least be considered? If, of course, there was a word of truth in it, and if the Merlin was not simply playing him for a fool. And wasn’t that a very strong possibility? How else would an Urshu view a nosferatu, descendant of intractable
fighting machines—without wit or imagination? As an inferior. As a fool.
fighting machines—without wit or imagination? As an inferior. As a fool.
“You have a problem, Victor?”
With a sense of profound relief, Renquist made up his mind. “No, my lord, I have no problem. Kill the damned thing. It’s an obscenity. It’s a thousand times worse than we are.”
“Kill the obscenity, Victor? Or is that merely for the benefit of Fenrior and his people?”
Taliesin was in the Great Hall, suddenly standing beside the plain empty chair. Marieko could feel a terrible nosferatu dread flowing in waves. They were children caught by an elder, ineffectually plotting the elder’s downfall, and now they would have to suffer for their presumption. Some of the fear came from the gathering itself, but much more was being imposed. To be able to inflict such a massive and all-enveloping emotional miasma told her this Urshu had hitherto unsuspected reserves of power.
“Would you really reject the chance to be Lord of the Earth under me, Victor? Or you, Fenrior?”
Renquist and Fenrior stared at each other. They had both been offered the same contract with the Merlin? And as the Merlin laughed, the banner in the Great Hall billowed slowly and ominously, and he seemed to glow from within with a mesmerizing radiance. “There’s no point in looking at each other like that. You will tell yourselves it was all lies, but you’ll recall the rejection you made for the rest of your long, long time. The fields of absolute domination were laid out in front of you, but you turned your backs on them. Fenrior for the security of your crumbling castle and outmoded clan, and Renquist for your wholly spurious pride. And Gethsemany, and you, Julia—neither of you cared to be the Mistress of All? Where do your loyalties lie? What better could you hope for beyond the sensual luxury of unquestioned command and absolute authority? Could none of you
bring yourselves to serve only the Merlin? Could none of you brave the truth? Accept the inevitable that Taliesin had awakened, and your sole superior was come among you?”
bring yourselves to serve only the Merlin? Could none of you brave the truth? Accept the inevitable that Taliesin had awakened, and your sole superior was come among you?”
As he spoke, the Merlin also shifted shape. He grew taller, the merry girth disappeared. Golden robes flowed from his shoulders like wings at rest, and his countenance became all but divine. The humanoid resemblance at once more idealized and more tenuous. A god or monster? The choice was theirs. They could make of him what they would, the very undead who were themselves considered masters of the grand illusion. They, too, had been gods in their time, and monsters, too, but the Merlin had come, and their reign of night terror and blind day was at an end. The assembled nosferatu, Marieko included, sat paralyzed, helpless in the vise the Urshu was rapidly closing on their minds; Victor, Fenrior, the Craft-workers—none appeared able to stand against the Urshu. Some, including the grotesque, the exquisite, and Henri Brazil, had been permitted to flee.
“For shame, you sad and faithless vampires, shall I now seat myself in the chair of the accused and have you put me to the questioning? But, no—your votes were cast. Kill, kill, kill, kill, you cried. ‘Do away with the bloody thing’ was what one said. The Lady Gethsemany spoke so sweetly and without hesitation. ‘It must be destroyed.’ The one who offered all was to be hacked to pieces and the pieces scattered and burned, when all the poor Merlin intended was a place of perfection for the nosferatu. And how will you who rejected me think about this day when you see your world sere and scorched, the very finality of your kind close at hand? Will you curse the foolish pride that caused you to reject Taliesin, Victor? Will you weep your cold, dry, and bitter tears for what might have been, Gethsemany?”
Was this the kind of speech he had made to Arthur on the dirt floor of Camelot, shape-shifting and delivering dreams of a future golden and eternal? Was that
the promise made to Pendragon? And yet Pendragon had himself been deceived. An idyll of less than a human lifetime, and then the great war harps had roared in the tempest, and Camelot had fallen to the fire, sword, and axe of the Saxons. And as Marieko had that thought, the glory of the Urshu seemed to diminish slightly. She thought perhaps it was only a matter of her own perception fighting back, but she was suddenly and drastically shown she was not alone. A Highlander hurled himself at the Merlin with a single scream. “Fenrior!”
the promise made to Pendragon? And yet Pendragon had himself been deceived. An idyll of less than a human lifetime, and then the great war harps had roared in the tempest, and Camelot had fallen to the fire, sword, and axe of the Saxons. And as Marieko had that thought, the glory of the Urshu seemed to diminish slightly. She thought perhaps it was only a matter of her own perception fighting back, but she was suddenly and drastically shown she was not alone. A Highlander hurled himself at the Merlin with a single scream. “Fenrior!”
The fine but futile gesture ended immediately as the Highlander, still nine or ten feet from the Merlin vanished in a blinding brilliance of silent lightning that left only clothing, grey ash, and a fallen sword. In the flash, however, some part of the irresistible, confining bubble somewhere burst. Taliesin’s will was only finite. Fenrior was first on his feet, seizing his dress sword from the table and throwing off the scabbard, but Gallowglass and Lupo were a close second and third. Marieko knew she had to join them. She quickly fell into step beside Lupo. It seemed an intelligent place to be. Drive out the Merlin or let the creature take them. It had gone on too far for any other course. Highlanders joined them, Theda and Cyrce, Julia and Destry, Shaggy Lachlan with claymore drawn, a half circle of nosferatu, far beyond anger, in a state of mind where the only options were death or … Or what? At that point, no one quite seemed to have an answer. Lupo leaned close and murmured a low warning. “Be careful, he may not be here at all.”
“He could do all this from at a distance?”
“Who can outguess an Urshu? Who even knows what an Urshu really is under all that illusion?”
Renquist and Fenrior were a few paces in front of the rest and a distance from the Merlin; Fenrior held up his hand, and everyone halted. Marieko watched as the two exchanged a single glance. Renquist, who was unarmed, turned and held out his hand. Immediately the hilts of a half dozen claymores were offered to him. He took the
nearest one. It was no time for show. Taliesin immediately recognized their intent. “Oh, my boys, the two heroes come for me.”
nearest one. It was no time for show. Taliesin immediately recognized their intent. “Oh, my boys, the two heroes come for me.”
Renquist and Fenrior momentarily paused, black silhouettes against the larger-than-life luminescence; then together they hurled themselves at the Merlin. And the Merlin vanished.
The immediate result was uncontrolled undead panic. The hysteria couldn’t have been worse. With the Urshu mind control instantly withdrawn, the nosferatu simply vented. Some screamed, some tottered, some sagged in their seats, and others went into a frenzy. One killed an unfortunate thrall and fed on the spot. Many tried to flee the Great Hall, wanting to get away but seemingly having no other aim in mind. Renquist and Fenrior stood looking at the place where the Merlin had been, as though dazed. Highlanders, equally confused, gathered around their lord, swords drawn, and moving according to their ingrained instinct to shield him, but again, hardly knowing from what. This instantly convened bodyguard was so unthinkingly protective, it almost got into an internecine fight when another squad, under the command of Goneril, ran into the room. Fenrior managed to get between them, and after some shouting, those who’d been in the hall and received the treatment from the Merlin started thinking again.
“We’ve been deceived by an illusion.”
“Where’s the Merlin?”
“Where’s th’ fuckin’ Merlin?”
Goneril unhappily came to attention. “Tha’s wha’ we came t’ tell ye, m’ lord. Th’ Merlin is gone. He ha’ escaped.”
“I know that, damn it. He was just here, and now he isn’t.”
“No, m’ lord …”
Fenrior looked ready to strike her down. “What do you mean, ‘no, my lord’?”
“I posted two sets o’ guards as ye ordered, m’ lord. Two inside th’ Merlin’s room an’ two i’ th’ corridor.”
“And? …”
“An’ th’ two i’ th’ corridor reported he never left his room, but when i’ was time t’ change th’ guard, th’ Merlin was gone an’ th’ two i’ th’ room …” She hesitated, at a complete loss and very close to being spooked.
Fenrior made his voice firmer but more gentle. “Steady, Goneril, you are not responsible.”
“Th’ two guards i’ his room, m’ lord, they were turned t’ dust. Nothin’ left o’ them save their clothes an’ their weapons.”
Quickly, Gallowglass took control. He pointed to a Highlander at random. “You. Run an’ see if any vehicles are missing.” He selected three more. “You, you, and you. Secure th’ castle. Order oot aw th’ able-bodied. See tha’ aw gates are locked an’ tha’ th’ walls are fully manned. I want this place closed up tight as a drum, an’ no excuses.”
The ones so designated hurried from the hall. With a new sense of purpose, the clan began to recover from its disarray. The mystery of what the Urshu had really done, however, was far from being solved, and Fenrior was about as furious as a nosferatu could be without actually spitting blood. Lupo eased close to Renquist. “I doubt they’ll find him, Don Victor.”
Renquist nodded. “I doubt they’ll find him, either. In fact, I think the Urshu was ahead of us from the moment he awoke. He has played us the way we might play a rabble of unsuspecting humans.”
“You think perhaps we might make ourselves scarce? Before anyone thinks to blame us for what happened. I’m not sure the Lord Fenrior will be ready to accept he was simply outclassed by the Merlin.”
“Me, too, Lupo. I was fooled right along with the rest.”
“That may be true, Don Victor, but should we make a discreet exit?”
Before Renquist could answer, the Highlander who had been sent to check on the vehicles hurried back to Gallowglass. “Aw th’ motor vehicles are accounted f’. No one had crossed th’ bridge, an’ th’ thralls i’ th’ village claim no one has passed through.”
Fenrior joined them as the Highlander finished his breathless report. “He must be in the castle somewhere, damn it! Goneril, form search parties. Find him!”
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