A man changed immensely. Two and a half years ago he had been a six-footer, and now was almost seven. He'd been tanned by the sun, and was now pallored by the night, and by his condition; for his flesh had taken on the leaden look of undeath. His Szgany eyes had been dark, naturally ... but not for long, a day at most; the Change That Shapes had taken him that fast! Wamphyri, aye - he'd been a natural! And eyes red as fire.
And yet .. . perhaps not as 'natural' as might at first be imagined. For he covered his leaden flesh as if ashamed of it, swathing himself in black, head to toe, so that his eyes burned out over a mask of black cloth. Shame or denial, whichever; but even as a Lord freshly ascended - through all the pain, frustration and uncertainty of his vampire metamorphosis - still Nestor had retained something of his Sunside heritage. And for a while, for all that he'd become more and more Wamphyri, still he had been the man.
Sufficient that when he went hunting in Sunside one night with the dog-Lord Canker Canison, he'd come back with a sweetheart out of earlier times: the girl Glina, who had loved him. Ah, but that had been the last of his humanity. For where now were Glina and the child she brought with her out of Sunside?
Zahar knew well enough, for he had been witness and more than witness. The child was dead, all burst into tatters from the force of his descent on to the rocks at the foot of Wrathstack; and Glina burned by the sun, and likewise fallen from on high; her body walled up with stones in a crevice west of the great pass. All of which by Nestor's command, if not his hand, and the change still taking place in him.
All of this running concurrent with his affair with Wratha the Risen, during which his step had seemed lighter, his spirit uplifted. But their 'love' had been as false as Wratha herself was false ... or as Nestor was false? In any case, it had not lasted. For by then he had discovered his necromancy: that he could speak with dead men, and torture them for their secrets. And when that had become known to him, his change had taken a new direction; it was a darker Nestor who stalked the night, and moved like a ghost through the mazy ways of Suckscar ...
Oh, they saw each other from time to time even now, Nestor and Wratha, and went to each other in their beds; for they were Wamphyri and had their needs. But the first allegiance of a vampire Lord is to himself; he seeks security, provides for his longevity. This was no time for lovers, when winds of war were blowing out of the east from
beyond the Great Red Waste. There was Szgany blood to be spilled, undead armies to build. Aye, and soon there would be powerful invaders to be killed. That was the way of things: crush or be crushed.
So the delights of dalliance were put aside, and now the black-draped creature who rode the night wind alongside Zahar had precious little of the man in him, but a great deal of the vampire. More than that, however, there was something which Zahar couldn't fathom. An unspeakable terror? (Nestor's lieutenant scarcely dared think it, and he must never be overheard thinking it!) But ... some morbid fear, perhaps, gnawing at his master's necromantic mind?
... Zahar's glance was too bold! Likewise his thoughts, however much he would shield them! Dangerously bold, aye! He knew it and looked away, forced his mind to opaque, meaningless meanderings. That way was the safest.. .
Reading most of Zahar's thoughts anyway, Nestor had known that his man would never dare lie to him. But to be sure:
Zahar, he said, now listen. That night when I crashed on Sunside, and you thought that 1 was lost forever. You captured him, my Great Enemy, and told me how he awakened in the moment that you tossed him into the Gate. But are you sure - absolutely sure - that he disappeared into the Gate?
'Yes, master -' and hastily' '- but all in accordance with your orders!'
And: Of course, Nestor had nodded in a little while. Of course ... But after Zahar had fallen back in line:
Again that disturbance of psyche, that thrill of awareness, that recognition of the vortex! It was here! He, Nathan ... was here!
It came and went: a surge from far across the forest, to the south-east, then - nothing. As if a candle had been lit, however briefly, then snuffed. And at once a second flare-up, but fainter, from across the mountains in Starside. So that Nestor had wondered: one Great Enemy, or should that be two? ... Or three? Or was it all in his head?