'Except - it wasn't Vasagi! It was this one!' And here Wran pointed dramatically at Nestor.
'However unwittingly, this strange night-prowling Szgany youth had distracted me when, concentrating upon his approach, I had failed to detect the Suck's! Or rather, Vasagi had utilized this one's clumsiness to mask his own far more sinister slither. And while I was confused, finally he attacked!
Then ...
'... Nestor shouted a warning! Also, he put a bolt in the Suck's shoulder. But can you credit it? The interven-
tion of a Traveller, a Szgany youth, in a grand duel of vampire Lords? It was astonishing, and it was ironic! For to my way of thinking, it evened up the balance admirably. Vasagi had used this lad to get close to me, and paid for his deviousness when Nestor turned on him. But injured, the Suck was yet more dangerous. And in the fight which ensued I sustained grave injuries of my own, mainly to my back. I intend to keep the scars, to illustrate the extent of Vasagi's ferocity. Perhaps on some future occasion, you may even prevail upon me to display them for you ...'
This time, when Wran's pause threatened to extend itself indefinitely, Gorvi the "Guile put in: 'All very interesting, I readily submit, though none of it explains this Nestor's custody of Vasagi's egg. Was it won, or illegally . .. bequeathed? Which is to say, not by the Suck, but by his destroyer, Wran. You'll concede I have a point. For here sits Gore Sucksthrall, first-chosen lieutenant of Vasagi himself, and rightful aspirant to Suckscar. Must he now stand aside for this Nestor? An unusual procedure, to say the least.'
'Bah!' This from Wratha. 'What's so unusual, Gorvi? Think back on your own ascension, as I often think on mine. It's the getting there that's important, not the means. Aye, the getting there, and the wanting to be there! And yet ... it would seem you've asked a valid question: was it done out of spite, maliciously conceived and contrived by Wran the Rage, or was Nestor receptive? And I ask another: if the latter, how so? For in all my days I've never yet heard of a Traveller who desired to be Wamphyri - not before the fact, at least.'
Canker Canison sat up straighter, slapped a hand flat on the table and barked: 'Only one person to ask!' And turning to Nestor, where so far he'd sat silent: 'You, Nestor. You have a vampire egg in you. But did you desire to be Wamphyri, or was it forced upon you?'
'What the hell odds does it make?' Wran roared, coming to his feet. 'Wratha has it right: it's getting there that counts. As for eggs: don't we bequeath them where we will? We do, when we have the choice. Well, when last I saw Vasagi the Suck, he had no choice. I pegged his broken body out to burn. And now I wish I'd let his leech and egg burn with him!'
'May I speak?' Gore Sucksthrall growled, but quietly. And when they looked at him:
'It seems to me that the Lord Wran engineered this thing,' Gore said. 'Not to thwart me - of course not, for I am nothing as yet - but to punish his old enemy the Lord Vasagi, who was my master. It would seem a grand jest, to transfer the Suck's egg to this . .. this innocent. And of course, cowed by Wran and afraid of us all, this unworthy receptacle sits here, numb and dumb, and praying it's all a dream. Myself, I would aspire to Suckscar, and no question about it. Except a usurper has Vasagi's egg. Doubtless it was torn from my master's body, or fled him upon his death. Which seems to me the easiest way to regain it - and now, before the egg becomes a leech, or while the vampire is still a tadpole. Wherefore I challenge this Nestor to a trial of combat. The time, place and manner of his death, I leave to him.'
Gore was right. Deep in Nestor's core, Vasagi's seed was as yet a tadpole. Be that as it may, already it could sense the strength of its host - and his weaknesses. But the latter only served the parasite's purposes; rather, they worked to its benefit. Nestor had no history, nothing to cling to, and therefore no resistance to the seething metamorphosis taking place within him. On the other hand, his vampire had no real 'intelligence' as such; as yet embryonic, its sole purpose was to enhance the darker facets of its host, while simultaneously blunt-
ing his human compassion and deadening his sensibilities. In so doing, it honed to a razor's edge those skills necessary to Nestor's - and of course its own - survival. For above all else, the vampire is tenacious.
And Gore was quite wrong: instead of sitting there 'numb and dumb', Nestor had taken his small but deadly crossbow from his belt and into his lap, fitted its bolt, and now only required to load it. While the first of these actions had been easy, going all unseen behind and below the bulk of the great table, the last would take some small effort and could never be accomplished in secret, especially now that all eyes were on Nestor. He hesitated ... there was still time enough ... he would wait and see what he would see.
Canker, on Nestor's immediate left, had doubtless seen his furtive movements; he said nothing but simply said there, feral eyes blazing, holding his dog's breath and glancing from Nestor to Gore and back again. Gore had meanwhile put both of his huge hands flat on the table and looked about ready to stand up. His eyes were likewise feral - and full of murder. He had made his challenge; if it went unaccepted, or even unanswered by Nestor, plainly Gore would have the right to act.