Iced On Aran (8 page)

Read Iced On Aran Online

Authors: Brian Lumley

BOOK: Iced On Aran
10.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Hero grimaced. “The whole thing sounds hideous,” he said. “A much-magnified hell!”
“But as yet you have not heard half!” Augeren answered. And he went on: “The gaunt kidnappers of men—they will take any man curious enough to venture to the foot of the gray peaks, you understand, and not just licentious, banished criminals—are trained by the Lords of Luz. These so-called ‘Lords' have bred gaunts especially for the carrying of men down into the underworld.
And there, in Luz, the Lords explain to such luckless men what is required of them. It is an ongoing process which has continued since the first Veiled King and his priests came out of the north into Inquanok the city, which occurred in a time immemorial. Since when there have been many Veiled Kings …”
Hero cocked his head a little to one side and frowned, sawed at his ropes, covered his sawing by repeating: “The Veiled Kings come from the north, eh? Into which you seem to read a special meaning …”
“You will see, quester,” answered Augeren. “You will see.”
“I see part of it already,” said Hero. “I think. But if what you've told me is true, and if I'm correct in what I'm beginning to suspect … why do the men of Inquanok accept Veiled Kings at all? And why do they continue to banish men north?”
“But the men of Inquanok do not know of this underworld,” answered Augeren. “Indeed, you are the first man to know of it who has not been there. They do not know where the men they banish go to, only that this banishment is the decree of the Veiled King and his priests; and in any case, who are they to question such things? And why should they dream to question the origin of their Veiled Kings, eh?”
Hero lolled against the wall of the cave, worked harder at his ropes. His wrists were on fire now, for he dared move only them and not his arms. He dreaded that, as the light improved with dawn which must surely break at any moment, then Augeren would see the faint jerking of his muscles, his twitching face, the sweat on his neck in the vee of his shirt which was no longer cold or spawned of fear. “Tell me more,” he said.
Augeren nodded, but a little reluctantly, Hero thought. “I grow weary,” the monster said, stretching.
“Still, I ate well and slept a little in the night, and indeed I have unburdened myself somewhat. And since the tale is begun I might as well finish it.” He shrugged. “You have until then. What is a little time, after all?”
“To you, not very much,” Hero answered, making light of it. “To me, a great deal.”
Augeren did something with his horrific face which might have been a smile. “You are a brave man,” he said, “for which reason, when it is time, I shall make a quick end of it. Until then …
“This is what the Lords of Luz tell their newly arrived prisoners: that they are to be taken down into D'haz and there penned with female tick-things, taken when their host dholes are slain! There will be progeny—halfling progeny—and as long as this continues, as long as a man can father halflings on the tick-women, so long shall he live. But if he cannot, or will not … then his bones will be broken and him lowered through one of the many chimneys into the dhole ossuary.”
Hero was aghast, his mouth a round “O” in his face. “This is monstrous!” he finally declared.
“The entire underworld would seem monstrous,” Augeren nodded, “to a man like you, used only to the sane, safe places of the dreamlands.” Hero might have argued the point there, but: “Let me tell you more,” Augeren continued.
“Halflings like myself—and yet greatly unlike myself—go down into D‘haz and hunt dholes. When they kill a dhole the carcass is netted and drawn up through a chimney into D'haz. Like carrion insects, the halflings drag the huge body up ramps hewn in the walls, and into cavern abattoirs there—in fact they are not abattoirs, for the dholes are already dead, so let us simply call these caves blood-houses. There the dhole
bodies are pulped until their juices flow down runnels into the rocks, mix with the ages-seeped oil there and—”
Hero gulped, cried out, “I know, I know!” And, stomach heaving at the thought, he said: “The Url worms in their burrows slurp it up! Thus the halflings feed the Urls!” Then, dreading the answer his question must bring, he nevertheless asked, “But
why
do they feed them?” And to himself:
All you gods of dreams, if you really do exist, please give me strength to bear this horror out to its end!
“Why do halflings tend and feed Urls?” Augeren thrust his face a little closer. “Because the Lords of Luz command it! Any halfling who fails in his duties risks broken bones and a one-way trip to the cavern of the dholes. That is why. And why, you are wondering, should the fate of great, pale, mindless worms be of any concern to the Lords, eh?”
“Why indeed?” Hero felt faint. Augeren's breath was a stench.
“Because the Urls are the next in the chain, the next phase!” the monster hissed. “The next step in the descent to monarchy.”
He sobbed in the light which crept ever stronger into his lair; and such was the horror of Augeren's face that Hero fixed his gaze beyond it, on the bare rock wall of the cave, rather than stare continuously into that travesty of a visage.
“Worms?” said Hero, feeling his voice begin to crack under the strain. “The next phase?”
“Indeed!” cried Augeren. “Oh, yes! And now see where human lust and bestiality has brought us, and now ask why I hate you, all of you! For now the halflings—of which I was one, remember, part-tick, part-human being—are made to mate with the Urls!
Aye, and I have already described the punishment if they should fail in their duties, or prefer not to perform them at all.”
“But …” said Hero, frantically, fractionally sawing. “But …”
“Aye, but—but—but!” answered Augeren nodding. “But only
think
of it! Only
imagine
those pits of depravity! Only let your mind dwell for a moment—a single moment—upon the
issue
of such matings! First the union of men and tick-women. The tick-women are flattish, like elongated lice, or the pale crabs that inhabit cavern pools. Their skins are leathery, and yet their shape overall is humanish! I am the product of such a mating, and yet I am a poor product, a freak. Yes, a freak, but even more a freak—by halfling standards—than you might ever suspect. For there is
too much
of the human side in me! My brothers were more nearly ‘normal,' if you can imagine that!
“Ah, quester, but if only you could have seen my mother! Great hands like claws for gripping the sides of her dhole host; six udders on which to feed her brats; two eyes like this single insect orb of mine, which can barely ‘see' at all in your understanding of the word; and her mouth, like mine, complete with a drill of cartilage plates with which to penetrate the flensed bones of her dhole host's victims!”
“You're a loathsome thing!” Hero blurted. “But by the many gods of the dreamlands, I almost pity you.”
“Save your pity for yourself!” Augeren's voice was wet and panting. “For my tale will soon be told …” He drew back a little, sobbed and shook and slopped saliva, finally achieved a measure of control. “Now, about the mating of halfling and Url,” he said. “Let me tell you of that.”
Hero really did not want to know, but if he stopped
Augeren's tale now … what then? “Do go on,” he said, once more applying himself to his bonds, which by now were surely weakening.
“The female Urls allow it,” said Augeren. “Simple creatures, who live only for the present and have little if any thought of possible futures, the fate of Urls gone before means nothing to them. Indeed, they welcome their mating with halflings; for when a female worm is with young she is pampered and fed and fattened individually by the halflings, even lured from her burrow into a granite pen from which she cannot escape. And why is she given this preferential treatment? Why fattened on raw dhole juice? Because the young she will bear will be many, and
very
demanding. So demanding, indeed, that even though she be fat and full of her disgusting milk, still her dominant infant will kill off all the others—as many as ten or eleven—to take their share! Aye, and he grows and grows, very quickly, in both size and intelligence until, for all her brimming udders, still his mother is hard put to feed him. Then, no longer satisfied with her gruel milk, the young human-cum-tick-come-Url draws blood!
“At this stage the mother must be watched most carefully. She knows her child will kill her, and so she will try to kill him. That is not to be allowed!
She
is expendable, but
he
is not. He kills her and, bloated with her blood, is carried aloft by gaunts …”
“Into Luz?” Hero stared wide-eyed, trying to comprehend.
“Obviously—where else ‘aloft'? Yes, into Luz, which is his birthright—for he is now a Lord of Luz. Or a Lady, of course.”
Hero's mind whirled. “But what … what
is
he? Or she? I mean, how must they—?”
“How must they look? What is their nature? I will
tell you,” said Augeren. “They are uttermost monstrosities! They have the claw hands of ticks,
some
eyes like yours and perhaps several like mine, flattish of body but with many stomachs, so that they may bloat with blood. They are roughly the size of a man, but their limbs—vestigial in their worm mothers—are lengthened into rubbery tentacles which they can coil or flail at will. Some have cartilage drills for mouths, others the shovel face and tube tongues of the worms. Most are pale pink, and
all
are utterly bestial!”
Hero shuddered, licked his lips. “And you call such as these ‘Lords'?”
“From now on they are watched closely indeed,” Augeren continued without bothering to answer. “Watched and trained. They are watched for aberration, for madness. Oh, they
are
aberrant, each and every one—they
are
loathsome in their habits, their lusts, their greed and their nameless appetites—but if they are also insane, and many are …”
“The great ossuary of the dholes?” Hero guessed.
“Of course. Nothing is wasted.”
Hero's mind was morbidly at work. “But how, in creatures like these,
how
may one distinguish ‘madness'? I mean, is there any sanity in them at all?”
“Madness in the Lords is not measured in depth of depravity but level of intelligence,” said Augeren. “Or rather, lack of it. But if they can learn, then they are intelligent—‘sane.' If they can follow the rituals they are required to observe, and perform other … functions, then they are fit—to serve!”
The way the monster slobbered out these words had the short hairs on Hero's neck instantly erect. “Their … functions,” he repeated. “Fit to serve. What functions? And ‘to serve' whom?”
“Miscegeny is done with now!” the beast went on,
“but still the final phase has not been reached. Still the ultimate abomination is yet to be born. For now Lord mates with Lady! Aye, but of
their
progeny ask me nothing! I do not know. No creature knows. Except the Lords of Luz themselves—
whom you may call priests
!”
Hero's mouth worked but he said nothing. He had expected some such, but still it came as a shock. These things masqueraded as men in Inquanok, and the worst things of all as Veiled Kings!
“And all of this, everything I have told, occurring in darkness,” said Augeren, creeping closer, until Hero was sure he must notice his secret sawing. “All of it taking place in pitch black abysses of earth and rock, where even now men mate with monsters, and their halfling children with others more monstrous yet. And what light there is—the glow of certain phosphorescent mosses, or the foxfire of rotting fungi—even that is
too much
light! Things lusting, devouring each other with their lust and simply … simply devouring! Can you picture the nightmare of it? You likened it to a hell, but I say it is the
hell
of hells! I could not stand it! By comparison I was clean! I
would not
be penned with an Url, however ‘comely' for one of her race! They said I was more nearly human, and indeed I was not
un
like the men I saw down there in D'haz. I talked to them, learned all I could of the outside, the upper lands, and when finally it was my turn to mate …”
“You fled,” Hero breathlessly finished it for him.
“Aye, crime in itself. Fled—and fleeing I slew. Slew my Url bride-to-be, her halfling keepers, even a Lord. Threatened a pair of stupid gaunts until they carried me out of the underworld entirely and flew me down to the foothills in the night. Then I slashed their throats and so slew them, too. And at last I came upon human beings for the first time—innocent human beings, mind, not the
lusty criminals brought down to D'haz by gaunts—and so learned how I could never find a place here.
“For each and every one, when he or she first saw me, cried out in horror! Cried out until my blood boiled over, and I … and I …”
“Go on!” cried Hero, afraid to let the creature pause.

Other books

Black Skies by Arnaldur Indridason
Cheryl Reavis by The Bartered Bride
The Adoption by Anne Berry
Starstruck In Seattle by Juliet Madison
The Zombie Game by Glenn Shepard
Dispatch by Bentley Little