Weird Tales volume 38 number 03 Canadian (14 page)

"Dr. Planquette," he said, "you are not one of the hated Teutons. Therefore you will not be satisfactory to Zcerneboh as a sacrifice. Nevertheless, we cannot, with your knowledge of us, permit you to live. I am reluctant of this, for as a scholar you are to be admired. However, Nohl and the wench will give themselves to Zcerneboh."

Hynek now gestured to his stocky, squared-jawed lieutenant: "Enoch, take Planquette, and take my sword. Blood such as this must not be spilled in this sacred place. Destroy Planquette outside the grotto, destroy him in the name of Mighty Zcerneboh and his crusade of madness against the Teutons; and return here for the rites. And take care, for though Planquette is an old man, he is strong. We shall prepare for the rites."

Christian and Mina pleaded to the Wends for mercy in behalf of old Planquette, for which they were struck across the mouth and ordered silent. Enoch shoved Planquette brutally through the difficult entrance and clambered after him with zest to fulfil Hynek's order.

rpwo men lifted a slab from the floor -*■ —secret entrance to the ritual cham-

Christian held Mina in his arms. "Do not fear," he whispered. "If we must die we will do it together. But there is still a ray of hope. Surely the God of the Christians is stronger than this god of evil."

"I am praying, Christian," she answered. "And that I shall keep on doing until the end."

All the remaining Wends except Hynek had descended steps beneath the slab.

Now, Hynek, a sickening leer on his pallid face, approached Christian and Mina—tore them apart—seized Mina in his arms.

"A pretty snatch of a damsel, Teuton wench that you are!" he said thickly, and digging his finger into her arms he demanded : "A kiss for me!—before you go to Zcerneboh!" But craftily watching Christian from the corners of his eyes, he saw the lover bracing for attack.

With subtle swiftness Hynek lashed out his arm, throwing Christian off balance.

"You did it once before, you filthy Teuton!" rasped Hynek, "but not again!"

Scratching and twisting, Mina released herself.

The Wend, panting and nervous with rage, cackled: "Down to Zcerneboh—both of you/* and maniacally he pushed them with his feet into the opening where the slab had been. Down the cold hard steps they rolled, Mina first

Though bruised badly, Christian got to his feet quickly. Looking for Mina, he saw her yellow tresses in a corner near the foot of the rock-hewn steps—and dimly he saw the outline of her body, her garments torn, her limbs bleeding.

With a madness that made his head whirl he shouted an oath that struck back from the rock walls to split his own ears. He dropped to her side.

THE MAD DANCERS

71

The Wends, who were going about lighting their lamps, stopped momentarily at his outburst, then went on, unmoved, with their preparations.

Christian sat against the wall after lifting the girl gently to his side. Though overwhelmed with hopelessness, he looked about at the ceremony chamber and began to take in details. It was by far the largest room of the series—fully fifty feet square. The walls were decorated crudely though symbolically, the swastika again in predominance, Mina had opened her eyes and was taking things in with him.

Now the room was brighter. Simultaneously they looked to the far side. There was the god Zcerneboh. He stood close against the wall upon a stone dais. Christian, however, was puzzled. This was a small god, only four-and-a-half feet high, and as motionless as stone. But the same repugnant countenance— utterly black—red eyes—small round mouth—and skull-like nostrils. In his hands he held a brass receptacle which a Wend was touching with fire. Incense.

Wends were busy lighting lamps and incense burners and the chamber was growing brilliant. All were chanting in a low monotonous unison: "Lon buh-nesccn — Zcerneboh — Zcyb'n vendi-lahnzi. Lon bu-nescen — Zcerneboh — zcyb'n vendi-lahnsi."

For a few moments Christian and Mina were unmolested, for the Wends were very busy. Enoch returned, wiped his bloody sword, and joined the others.

SUDDENLY Hynelc m and another *^ seized Mina. A second pair seized Christian. Both were bound with long strips of tape from feet to neck, then, amid sudden crescendo in the chanting,

were picked up and laid on the dais at the feet of Zcerneboh.

Currents of air coming from somewhere kept the lamps flickering. This caused shadows to dance about Zcerneboh and the illusion of distorted movements in his body until he seemed weirdly to be dancing. And, the crimson of Zcerneboh's eyes became aglow. But Christian, lying at the hlack god's feet, saw plainly that he was not moving; that he was a very material god carved out of black marMV. He too saw a dark vapor issuing from his disgusting mouth.

Dispersed about, the Wends now were swaying rhythmically on their knees. Their chant continued, growing in volume and pitch. One by one they arose and joined the rhythm of contortions. Now their chant was shrill and noisy intensified by the close rock walls. Through their sinister designs and evil worship they were the manikins of dark and primitive powers.

They danced with a fervor, a mania, while a million others throughout Europe stepped to the same measure, unaware that the disease of their minds was engendered from a secret grotto near Dresden.

Now came the rite's climax, the god's moment. He was moving from his erstwhile fixed position, gliding sidewards. The helpless Christian saw him move, saw the black hand from in back that was pushing the statue aside. Black fingers, seemingly from out of the rock, grasped the panel, slid the whole contraption to the side exposing a wide opening. Now the jetty hand joined by its mate reached out and grabbed the feet of the bound youth—pulled him through the opening; then Mina. It was she who saw the living Zcerneboh first. She fainted.

THE MAD DANCERS

Then Christian sav,' the terrorizing features of the man, or creature, he had seen twice before—once in Aix-la-Chapelle and again outside the grotto. It was still cloaked and hooded in black, and its skin was like burnt paper. Zcerne-boh now slid the idol which he resembled back in its place, sealing off again the opening into the ritual room where the worshipers still were dancing. A recess in the back of the idol containing glowing embers which provided the reddened eyes and smoke from the mouth.

The inner sanctum of the black God Zcemeboh, from what the bound and prone Christian could see, was but a cavernous recess in the rock. Light from an ill-burning lamp, and ventilation, were poor. The foul odor from the creature called a god, was moist and warm, like the freshly spilled blood of a beast. Zcernebch made some sounds, but he didn't speak. He couldn't speak; his mouth had no lips.

Despite the turmoil of his mind, Christian gathered his faculties to address him:

"Zcerneboh, you are a great and powerful god; I, a weak and humble mortal. I beseech only that you free this damsel. For that I will serve you in any way—bargain my soul, if I must. Will Zcerneboh hear?"

The god did not answer; only looked at him with his crimson globs and made a disgusting sucking noise through the hole that formed his mouth. His face was like a charred and withered mask.

Suddenly Zcerneboh emitted a muffled welp, threw back his hood revealing the whole of his ugly skull. He tore open the top of his cloak, letting it fall to the waist. His ribbed and inky torso swelled as he inhaled. Then he turned toward Mina. Dropped to his knees. He grabbed the

unconscious girl in his arms and held her for a moment as though contemplating her throat. The agonized Christian sensed in a flash what this god was— basically a vampire. The sacrifices to Zcernboh were for him to vampirize; the hideous mouth was to suck blood from the throats of humans!

Holding Mina, Zcerneboh was trembling as though in profound ecstasy. Then with a madlike impulse he buried his face in the girl's throat. Christian, straining at his binding, felt himself on the brink of madness.

As though dulled by a stupor, Zcerneboh stopped. But it was not a stupor. No one had ever dared move the statue of Zcerneboh but himself. However, the rear of the idol had been moved—and someone was entering. Zcerneboh was abashed and enraged. Never before had any one other than the god entered the inner sanctum of his own volition.

It was Enoch.

W/"ITH a terrible sound, Zcerneboh rose—fumbled under his garment for his sword—and drew it. But Enoch was the quicker. His sword already unsheathed, he lunged forward and drove it through the chest of the awed god, who trembled and fell. Enoch stared for a moment at his deed, then cast off his hood. Christian shouted with joy—for there stood Dr. Planquette! In a moment he had Christian and Mina unbound. The girl was coming to.

"This Enoch was too slow," said the doctor. "He lies dead outside the grotto. What happened else you'll soon see."

Carrying Mina, they returned to the ritual chamber. To Christian's amazement all the Wends were lying flat on their stomachs—all except one who was struggling in his bindings. Hynek Zerotin.

THE MAD DANCERS

"You see," said the doctor, "When I returned disguised in Enoch's robes, I kept m the shadows and no one discovered me. When they started their ritual I imitated them, still keeping in the back. Then when I saw you and Mina drawn behind the idol, I knew the time for action had come. But these Wends by then were in such a state of ecstasy that they never noticed me. I stabbed them, one by one, from the rear. It was like cutting the strings of puppets—they fell that neatly. When there were but two or three still standing, these became conscious that something was wrong. It was funny to see them try to gather their faculties; but were not quick enough for old Planquette. One of these last was our famous friend Hynek. Well, I decided not to kill him—not for any love of him, of course. So I gently butted his skull with the handle of my sword, then bound htm, I fear perhaps not too well for I was in haste to find you and Mina."

"Not a moment, thankfully, too soon to save our lives," said Christian.

Mina was rising and Christian embraced her.

"But where is the frightful Zceme-boh?" asked the girL

"It will be a pleasure to reply," said Planquette with calm humor. "I believe I can claim the unique distinction of having just murdered a god."

A voice came from behind them. It was the stilt struggling Hynek. "No mortal can kill a god," he sneered.

"Then perhaps you would like to join us, to see if he is really dead," replied the doctor. They bound Hynek's hands securely behind him, released the other bonds so he could walk, and escorted him to the inner sanctum.

There the body of Zcerneboh, unmis-

takably dead, lay with his blood still oozing.

i"iNE look and Hynek swung his head ^-^ away, paling to whiteness. His voice trembled as he said: "But the Wends yet are strong. There are still other Wend gods eager and ready to avenge our people."

"Then you will admit that Zcerneboh is dead?" asked Planquette.

Hynek was stolid, stunned. Finally he answered: "Zcerneboh is not dead. There is the real Zcerneboh I" He pointed to the back of the statue. "There reposes the spirit of Zcerneboh—as he has for ages past, immortal, indomitable!"

"I do not believe in your heathen worship," said Planquette. "Howbeit, should there be any truth to what you say, it will be a simple matter for us to destroy that antique carving.

"That would doom you forever!" hissed Hynek.

"Never!" returned Planquette. "But I have another question, in case you are inclined to answer. This Zcerneboh whom I have just stabbed, who and zvhat is he?"

Hynek deliberated. "For an answer to that I will bargain with you," he replied cautiously.

"How?"

"I'll give you the information in return for your solemn pledge not to destroy the statue."

"Since I do not believe in him anyhow, good enough. You have my pledge."

"And your's, Christian?"

"My pledge not to destroy the statue," said Christian.

"Not to destroy it, nor remove it, nor mar it in the least?" Both of you?" persisted the Wend.

They assented.

"Very well, it is this. Zcerneboh, for

THE MAD DANCERS

all his black power, has served the Slavs from the dimmest ages of the past. His idol has been preserved faithfully and worshipped devoutly for countless generations. Even this very grotto has been guarded for several centuries. But the spirit of Zcerneboh, unlike that of our other gods, prefers to exist in the body of a living person. That is, if you would consider a vampire* a living person in the exact sense. It has been the tradition for as long as any Wend can remember £or a vampire to volunteer for the role, for contrary to belief, no vampire is immortal. How his skin is blackened, his eves reddened, his feautres altered to resemble the black marble statue, that is a secret kept between our priests and Zcerneboh. Now, you see, a new vampire will volunteer and the spirit of Zcerneboh will emerge from the statue to live ajjain in him. That is the sum and sub-siance of the matter, and answers your question.

"In that case," said Planquette, "I have made a poor bargain. "It would have been better to destroy the statue and remained in ignorance."

"Perhaps for you," said Hynek, "but I took your pledge on your honor."

"What counts my honor against the lives and happiness of millions? But, no! I still do not believe that gods can live in stone. Your pledge is safe."

Suddenly Hynek seemed inspired. The muscles of his face worked, his fists through tied behind him clenched, and his eyes glowed. "There are still other gods of the Wends! There are our military gods, eager to avenge the Wends. You stupid Teutons do not know enough lo be beaten! If Zcerneboh has failed, there are the others—Baba Yaga, the female hagfiend; Gore, the god of woe and destruction; Koshchei, of the Death-

less Snake; Lyeshy, the Malicious who haunts the forests; Great Pcrun; Mora; Sventovit, the four-headed. Sky-god of the Elbe, and Triglav, the three-headed ruler of the Three Realms.

"You Teutons," he raved on, "know not what potent powers you provoke when you cross the Wends. Our gods of war are waiting — waiting, and their patience wears. They are waiting to fill you with such craving for war and bloodshed that finally other nations shall arise mighty and with vengeance to destroy you. And then you . . ."