Wran dropped back a little and settled lower, levelling with Gorvi. 'Do you think so?' he called across, scowling to match the other's scowl. They'll say I cheated, eh? Well as long as you're not one of them, you'll be safe. Or is it that you, too, would care to fly to Sunside with me, and try your luck in the gloomy forests?'
'I meant nothing by it.' Gorvi shrugged and reined back a little. 'I was making conversation, that's all. And so you've taken a prisoner. But a proud one, if I'm not mistaken.'
Again Nestor turned to look back at Gorvi, and this time his lip curled a little as he shouted, 'You want to know who I am, Gorvi the Guile? Then speak to me, not about me! My name's Nestor - Lord Nestor, of the Wamphyri - and the last thing I am is a captive!' 'Eh?' Gorvi was astonished, if not outraged. 'But -' '- No buts!' Wran cut him short. 'Learn all about it at my reception. But until then, keep your nose out! I'm
instructing the young Lord Nestor in the ways of the stack: its personalities and their responsibilities in the various levels which they inhabit. Our time is short. So begone!'
Gorvi reined in more yet, and fell to the rear. And Wran continued, proudly:
'These next levels up - a good many, as you see - are mine; mine and my brother Spiro's, wherein we control the main refuse pits and methane chambers. These are a great responsibility, a huge weight upon our shoulders .. . which are broad to take it! If not for the diligence of the brothers Killglance, the stack would go without heat and light, eventually without inhabitants. Seven great levels - high-ceilinged, indeed cavernous, and likewise huge across - that is the extent of Madmanse. For we've named our place in memory of our old manse in Turgosheim, do you see? But new Madmanse is far and away superior to our haunted old promontory home in the east. And oh so well equipped!
'We have launching bays, vats for the brewing of creatures, and all manner of rooms, halls, and stables. In Turgosheim in the time of the tithe, fresh meat was hard to come by. We kept beasts to supplement our diet. But here? Sunside is a well-stocked larder, a hive full of honey, a bottomless well of sweet ... whatever.' And chuckling obscenely, he glanced across at Nestor.
As they spiralled higher still, Nestor began to shiver, for the cold was finding its way into his bones. Soon ... he'd no longer notice it too much. But for now he sat like an icicle in his saddle. In any case he was soon distracted, as out from a yawning launching bay sprang Spiro Killglance aboard a flyer of his own. 'Ho, brother!' he shouted gleefully across at Wran. 'So you've had it out and the Suck is no more. I for one never doubted the outcome. But how did you deal with him ... and our friend?' His eyebrows came together in a frown as first he stared, then glared, at Nestor.
Nestor in turn stared back, and committed Spiro's details to memory. Patently the brothers were twins, and possibly even identical, though certainly not in their mannerisms or mode of dress. For where Wran actually looked the Lord (as Nestor had always imagined Lords to be), Spiro seemed far more a vagabond or ruffian, removed from his brother as chalk from cheese. He was loutish, with a loose-hanging lower lip and mainly malign expression, and his 'clothes' were disreputable to say the least: a rag of leather for a shirt, a dirty breechclout, and a strip of cloth on his forehead to keep his unkempt hair out of his fiery scarlet eyes. Other than this, and the fact that Wran wore a small black wen upon his chin, the brothers were physically alike: tall, broad-shouldered, and a little overweight. They might even be said to be handsome - or perhaps 'handsome specimens'. Certainly they were not ugly, not in appearance, anyway.
'By now Vasagi's blood is boiling to slime!' Wran answered his brother's query. 'I drained his leech, then pegged him out on a hillside to await the sun's rising. As for this one,' he glanced again at Nestor, 'he was of use to me. At any rate, I count him an ally. He is the Lord Nestor.'
Spiro's eyebrows peaked. 'A Lord, did you say?' 'Indeed!' Wran answered. 'For he has the Suck's egg!' 'Ahhh!' sighed the other, in amaze. 'But ... you must tell me all.'
'All in good time,' Wran replied. 'But for now let's get
on.' And to Nestor:
Where was 1? Ah, yes, Madmanse, which now falls behind and beJow. And up ahead: Mangemanse, where Canker Canison crows to the moon; and higher still ...
Suckscar! Hah! But now it shall have a new name, to go with its new master. What do you say to that, Nestor?