desire to learn what precisely takes a man’s eyes and replaces them with the voids that I glimpsed. Perhaps his eyes were black orbs in his skull. I hope so, for the alternative was that he had no eyes at all but saw through sockets filled by something so wrong for this world that they were not simply beyond description but beyond apprehension.
“My sanity was saved by the bandits, who, seeing only the warlock’s back, opened fire. Umtak Ktharl staggered very slightly under the rain of bullets, like a man snagging his toe in a loose carpet but catching himself in plenty of time. He seemed, if anything, faintly exasperated. Then he turned and set foot on dry ground for the first time in thirty-five generations. The instant they saw his face, the firing stopped. There was a moment of utter astonishment, and then one man made a horrible high, whining scream of terror and bolted.
“It was the signal for a general rout. The surviving bandits threw themselves back into the passage, kicking and trampling those who were too slow. I saw Umtak Ktharl lazily wave his hand and the hindmost bandit burst into fire, an unnatural fire of grey flames that consumed him within seconds. Yet he continued to scream even as he fell into ashes and for some moments afterwards. His fate inspired his companions to yet greater exertions and, in a moment, they had gone. Their nemesis followed with insolent leisure. Cabal and I were left alone, listening to their dying screams echoing in the entrance cave.
“‘Bullets don’t hurt him,’ I said somewhat hopelessly.
“‘No, they don’t. It would be a salutary lesson to those vermin that violence doesn’t always get them what they want. Of course, it helps to be alive after a lesson to appreciate the nuances.’
“His flippancy was starting to irritate me, and he saw it. ‘Look at the bright side,’ he added. ‘I think I have a plan.’
“‘Yes? What is it?’
“‘Can’t tell you. In the first place, there will be a lot of improvisation. In the second, I don’t have time for explanations if we’re to keep up with Ktharl. We mustn’t lose him. Come on!’ He threw the disassembled revolver aside and, having seen that devil’s imperviousness to bullets, I made to do the same with my rifle, but Cabal stopped me. ‘It might not kill him, but it can certainly attract his attention. Hold on to it.’
“We moved quickly but cautiously back up the passage to the entrance cave and happened upon the remains of some of the hapless bandits.
“No two of them had died in the same fashion: one body lay unwounded but gelatinous beside a pile of steaming bones that I took to be his skeleton; another sat upright leaning against a stalagmite, his head brilliantly alight, the flame consuming his flesh as a candlewick does the wax; yet another lay sprawled on his back, having apparently vomited up his heart. These were men who only minutes earlier I would willingly have killed myself, yet at least I would have offered them a quick and humane death. This, however, was far, far beyond the pale.
“‘Why?’ I asked Cabal. ‘Why has he done this? Surely he has it within his power to kill quickly and painlessly? Why these … these
“‘Fear. With his power, he can vanquish an army. With his reputation, he can conquer the earth. And he’s probably rather out of practice anyway, I should think. These are the equivalent of piano exercises to him.’ Cabal looked at a human arm protruding from the cave’s wall, a victim it would take pickaxes to extract. ‘These are simple party tricks for somebody like Umtak Ktharl. He’s still working the cricks out. We must catch up with him before he gets back into his stride.’
“Another scream from outside showed that he hadn’t got far. From the shadows of the entrance, we watched as the last of the bandits was dangled by his ankles from a tree at the edge of the clearing. For a moment, I thought Ktharl had somehow bound him there when, with a sick sense of horror, I realised that even the trees were doing his bidding. The bandit wasn’t tied to the branch — the branch was actually wrapped around his ankles like a black snake. The tree leaned slightly, making a ponderous creaking, and then, with unbelievable rapidity, swung the terrified man at the trunk of a neighbour. His screaming stopped the instant his brains were dashed out.
“‘Your plan, Cabal,’ I whispered, still shaken by what I’d seen. ‘Quickly, what is my role?’
“‘Are you good at thinking on your feet?’
“‘As good as any, better than most.’
“‘Good. Get to those bushes over there. Act when you see my signal.’
“‘What signal?’
“‘You’ll know when you see it.’ With this, he walked once more straight towards his enemy.
“Umtak Ktharl saw him coming and turned to watch, mildly interested. He raised a hand to make one of the lazy gestures I now associated with an ugly death, and then Cabal did the most remarkable thing. He threw himself prostrate before the warlock and started babbling at him in some odd tongue. Ugol, I suppose. An obviously educated man — and a European to boot — grovelling in such a way before an Oriental was a demeaning sight, and it seemed to take even Umtak Ktharl aback slightly. He lowered his hand and listened to what Cabal had to say. Then he spoke back — a question, by the sound of it — in a strange high voice, thin and complex, like birdsong. It was fascinating and I could have watched for some time, but I remembered Cabal’s plan, such as it was, and crawled on my belly to the cover of the bushes, my rifle held firmly in my hands for instant action. Reaching them, I climbed to my knees and furtively parted the leaves to see how Cabal was getting on.
“He appeared to be making some headway, as he was now on his knees with his head bowed. There seemed to be some sort of question-and-answer session going on. I guessed that this was the first part of Cabal’s plan, to gain the monstrous lich’s confidence. Then what, I had no idea, nor could I guess my part in it.
“As it happened, I didn’t have to wait long. Cabal had somehow ingratiated himself in the space of fifteen or twenty minutes that he was allowed to rise to his feet, although he had to maintain a respectful distance and his head stayed bowed. He was speaking quite loudly and fervently, and reminded me of adherents of those religions less civilised than our own.
“Then suddenly, unbelievably, he pointed straight at my hiding place. I was stunned for a moment, and then the true import of Cabal’s ‘plan’ struck me. There had never been any intention to stop Ktharl, only to save his own neck in the apocalypse that he knew was coming. And I was to be the first sacrifice to his survival.
“Swearing bitterly, I brought my rifle up, aimed straight at Cabal, and fired. I’m a good shot and my aim was true, but the bullet never arrived. That accursed Ktharl, that disgusting abomination that should have been dead seven hundred years ago, simply reached out and plucked the ball from the air. He studied it, lying in his palm for a second or two — eminently unimpressed by the best modern science had to throw at him — and then he raised his hand to his mouth and blew gently. Some instinct made me dive to one side, but not fast enough to avoid being winged by that selfsame bullet as it shot back at me as fast as from any rifle barrel.
“It was plain that I couldn’t fight him. My only chance was to escape from him and his new cur, Cabal, in the forest, get back to civilisation, and try to convince the authorities of this incredible story. I slung the rifle over my shoulder and started running. I risked a look back and saw Umtak Ktharl sweeping after me across the leaf litter as if he were gliding across ice, Cabal running doggedly in his wake.
“My only advantage was speed, but even that would be lost if I became exhausted. Ktharl was inexorable, his steady progress indefatigable. I considered my options and decided to forget about losing them amidst the trees, and instead try to find a dwelling with, I hoped, a horse. I finally understood why it had been so important in Cabal’s plan for me to leave the cave, because in doing so I had also left behind any chance of reaching the horses stabled there. Furious with myself for trusting him, I ran and ran and ran. My path was along and down the side of the hill in the direction I guessed the Senzan border lay. On reaching the base, I struck out across the forest floor and hoped for the best.
“Every time I looked back, Umtak Ktharl was there. I don’t know why he didn’t just kill me there and then; it must certainly have been within his power. Perhaps he had another use for me and that was something I didn’t wish to think about, and which spurred me onwards with still more desperation. It was a nightmarish situation, one that I hope never to repeat and, God willing, never will except within nightmares. My wounded arm bled steadily, my headlong flight preventing any hope of its closing. As the seconds of running turned into minutes, I had the unappealing thought that Umtak Ktharl was somehow tracking me by the drops of blood I left in my wake, that he could smell them, perfumed with my fear.
“It was by the merest good luck that, when I found the gorge, I didn’t fall headlong into it, so harried was I. It was more than deep enough to kill a man, perhaps eighty feet into a fast-moving torrent with sharp rocks on either side. Scaling the side was impossible without equipment and the time needed for the descent. I had no choice but to run alongside it. The ground started to angle upwards, and I began to fear for my endurance again as every step became a torment in itself. The incline wasn’t great, but in my exhausted state it was the last thing I
