A Coven of Vampires by Brian Lumley Read Free Book Online Page B

Han—a half-breed wizard of doubtful dexterity, one time necromancer and failed alchemist in black Yhem, now Fregg’s right-hand man—had opened the proceedings with his startling revelation.
    “What say you?” Burly, bearded Fregg turned a little on his wooden stool of office behind a squat wooden table, to peer at his wizard with raised eyebrows. “Lamia? This girl they ravaged was a lamia? Where’s your evidence?”
    Central in the courtyard, where they were obliged to stand facing into a sun not long risen, Hylar Arf and Thull Drinnis shuffled and grimaced, surly at Fregg’s treatment of them. But no use to protest, not at this stage; they were here and so must face up to whatever charge Fregg brought against them. The fallen wizard’s examination of their spoils, and his deductions concerning the same and the nature of at least one of their previous owners, that was simply for openers, all part of the game.
    Sharing space in the central area were two camels, a pair of white yaks and, upon the ground, blankets bearing various items. Upon one: tatters of sorely dishevelled female apparel; upon the other, eight saddlebags, their contents emptied out in a pile of gleam and glitter and golden, glancing fire. Treasure enough to satisfy even the most avaricious heart—almost. Probably. Possibly.
    “Observe!” Arenith Han, a spidery, shrivelled person in a worn, rune-embellished cloak scuttled about, prodding the yaks and examining their gear. “Observe the rig of these beasts—especially this one. Have you ever seen the like? A houdah fixed upon the back of a yak? A houdah ?Now, some tiny princess of sophisticate kingdom might well ride such gentle, canopied beast through the gardens of her father’s palace—for her pleasure, under close scrutiny of eunuchs and guards—and the tasselled shade to protect her precious skin from sun’s bright ray. But here, in the desert, the badlands, the merest trajectory of a good hard spit away from Chlangi’s walls? Unlikely! And yet so it would appear to be….”
    He turned and squinted at the uncomfortable ruffians. “Just such a princess, our friends here avow, was out riding in the desert last night. She rode upon this yak, beneath this shade, while the other beast carried her toiletries and trinkets, her prettiest things, which is in the nature of princesses when they go abroad: frivolously to take small items of comfort with them. Ah!—but I have examined the beasts’ packs. Behold!”
    He scattered what was contained in the packs on to the dust and cracked flags of the courtyard—contents proving to be, with one exception, ample handfuls of loamy soil—stooped to pick up the single extraneous item, and held it up. “A book,” he said. “A leather-bound rune-book. A book of spells!”
    Oohs! and Aahs! went up from the assemblage, but Han held up a finger for silence. “And such spells!” he continued. “They are runes of transformation, whose purpose I recognize e’en though I cannot read the glyphs in which they’re couched—for of course they’re writ in the lamia tongue! As to their function: they permit the user to alter her form at will, becoming a bat, a dragon, a serpent, a hag, a wolf, a toad—even a beautiful girl!”
    Hylar Arf, a hulking Northman with mane of blue-black hair bristling the length of his spine, had heard enough. Usually jovial—especially when in a killing mood—his laughter now welled up in a great booming eruption of sound. One-handed, he picked the skinny sorcerer up by the neck and dangled him before the court. “This old twig’s a charlatan!” he derided. “Can’t you all see that? Why!—here’s Thull Drinnis and me alive and kicking, no harm befallen us—and this fool says the girl was lamia? Bah! We took her yaks and we took her ,too—all three of us, before Gumbat Chud, great fool, got himself slain—and you can believe me when I tell you it was girl -flesh we had, sweet and juicy. Indeed, because he’s a