Brian Lumley - Necroscope - Invaders

'Nor were the vampire Lords alone in their awful strength and monstrous habits; many of Starside's Ladies were certainly their peers in malign intent, and a deal more devious and treacherous in their scheming. Vavara, who took sides with Malinari (we shall get to her, aye), was only one such; there were plenty of others who came close equals in malevolence. For example: Lady Jemma Freydaskith, of Hagspire.

'But surely the name of her manse says it all! Jemma was a hag, and a lustier, more ancient, wicked and withered hag there never was! Similarly, and where the name of her aerie describes her nature, surely the Lady's surname describes its origin. For there was only ever one Freyda among the Wamphyri, and that was Freyda Ferenc in the days of Shaitan the Unborn. Jemma Freydaskith knew the myths associated with that Lady's name; she likewise associated them with her own peculiarities of habit — her idiosyncrasies? — and so claimed direct descent from that ancient line. Now normally this would be disputable; the Wamphyri were bad record-keepers; living so long (some of them), history was yesterday to them; they saw no point in looking back beyond their own immediate forebears. But Jemma was reputed to be more than seven hundred years old! Since no one else had memories of that primeval time, who was there to dispute her claim?

'Anyway, while true histories, pedigrees and lineages were scarcities among the Wamphyri, certain myths were such as would live forever. Just so, and the myths surrounding Freyda Ferenc — while the Lady herself was long gone into oblivion — were of that order. Obviously she had been a Ferenczy, which in itself loaned authenticity to Jemma's claim, insofar as the Ferenczys were present in every Starside myth and legend (or at least the few that existed), even the most ancient of them. And what with Jemma's — predilections? — it seemed certain that something of Freyda's blood had found its way down the ages to her.

'For Freyda Ferenc had been gross of face and form, a veritable troll, with the thick skin of a trog and the fangs of a warrior! Men, even the most powerful of Lords, shrank from her person (likewise from her smell: she never washed) since for her hideous pleasure she was known to suffocate male and female thralls alike with her sex! Which of itself was surely quite enough to make her a legend in her own time and a mythical figure in mine… but there was more.

'Freyda was that merciful rarity: a Mother of Vampires who, when she was ripe and in her final confinement, produced an hundred eggs, being so depleted during the which that she withered to a wisp and expired. But her spawn, all save one egg, was diseased and likewise died. The lone surviver fused with Bela Manculi, a Szgany thrall, and Bela became heir to Freydastack.

'And so to the final proof of Jemma's lineage, if such were needed: her sire had been Lord Bela Belari, or "Bela's son" — an ancient in his own right — which might well make Jemma the great-granddaughter of Freyda Ferenc! Anyway, and having eschewed her father's name, "Freydaskith" was what Jemma had called herself for thirty-five thousand sunups, during which her life-style had more than adequately supported her claim to the noxious ancestral connection in which she revelled…

'I have digressed! Yet by your silence I'm encouraged that I have interested you—

'—But on the other hand I sense your impatience, too, so now let me get on with it — which I would, gladly, except there is one more Lord of that era who was or is worthy of mention… 'Shaitan the Unborn, before his banishment, had spread his spawn far and wide in Starside. And in those mythic times there were even Lords who were more trog than man… which in itself speaks of Shaitan's depravity. But there again, among the Wamphyri, miscegenation, incest, bestiality, and other perversions could scarcely be considered uncommon. And anyway, who am I to criticize? For Shaitan was after all the first of all, with no one to show him the way when he strayed or say him nay when he erred.

'Thus, despite that he was gone, his line lived on. Bloodsons and a few — daughters bore Shaitan's name and likeness down the march of years. And each and every one of them proud of the connection, even as he had been proud in his time, with a pride that knew no shame, for which ultimately he had paid the price. But his heirs cared nothing for that, cared only that they were spawn of the spawn of Shaitan the Unborn, the first Great Vampire, the one true Lord and sire of the Wamphyri.

'And just as the first of his vampire progeny had borrowed from their illustrious forebear's name in the earliest days of Starside mythology (Lords and Ladies such as Sheilar the Slut, Shaithar Shaitanson, Shailar the Hagridden, Shaithag the Harrower, Shang Shaitari, and Shaithos Longarm), so in my time his descendants — or perhaps I should say descendant, for by then there was only one of "pure" or direct line of descent — continued this great vanity. And that one's name was Shaithis.

'Shaithis was a "young" Lord then, little more than a hundred years of age. But of course he could be as young or as old as he willed it; simply a matter of rigidly controlled metamorphism. And Lord Shaithis — who took no other name or sigil, but deemed his titular connection a blazon and statement sufficient in its own right — willed himself forever young and handsome.

'So he was, indeed beautiful, despite that he was as evil as any of the Great Vampires, and probably more so than most of them; and clever, too, skilled in controlling the lesser Lords, who were a rabble, adrift, and of little strategic consequence under Drama! Doombody. And not only men, but Shaithis was also good with monsters. His vats bred many a nightmarish warrior.

'These and other attributes of leadership were proven during the course of Malinari's bloodwar of a thousand sunups, so that Shaithis rose even to the rank of Dramal himself, becoming his righthand man and equal. And while many Lords were lost in that holocaust of blood, Shaithis went from strength to strength, until everyone supposed he would be a Power one day…

'And he probably was, but alas I was not there to see it. For my master and his allies were the losers. Malinari, Vavara, and Szwart, they were whelmed under, their great aeries sacked, their possessions looted, and their thralls and creatures converted.

'Well, as was the way of it in those days, they were banished north to the Icelands forever. And I, Korath Mindsthrall, my master's chief lieutenant… I went with them, of course.

'As to how it happened:

'In the beginning, Nephran Malinari was short of friends. And this had always been the case, ever since his mother Illula flew off into the sun and left him Malstack for his own. It was his weird talent that cost him the "companionship" of the other Lords and Ladies. They could not trust him; they even feared to be close to him, who could be into their minds so easily. Also, his stack was a mighty fortress filled with men and beasts, and it was suspected that his ambitions reached beyond his station. Which of course they did, like the ambitions of all of them who were Lords. For lust, greed, and territorialism were ever their way of life.

'But isn't it true that a man who cannot make friends will usually make enemies? And as easily as that, the rumours sprang up: that Malinari was searching out allies and making ready his aerie for a bloodwar to rival the mythic wars of yore. But when I say "easily", that is not to say quickly; I would remind you that time is of small concern to the Wamphyri, and in fact the enmity that developed between The Mind and the others took decades in its shaping.

"Thus, when Malinari ravaged among the supplicant Vadastra clan on the night that I was taken and my people destroyed, his terrible tithe-gathering venture wasn't solely of his initiation or invention; Lord Doombody was also provisioning, and likewise the rest of the vampire Lords.