Part 10 (2/2)

Dee color

”If what he says is true, my lord,” said the Inquisitor, ”it clears him of the murder, and we can easily hush up the matter of attempted theft He is due ten years at hard labor for housebreaking, but if you say the word, we'll arrange for hi about it I understand you wouldn't be the first young noble debts and the like You can rely on our discretion”

Conan looked at the young noble expectantly, but Aztrias shrugged his slender shoulders and covered a yaith a delicate white hand

”I know him not,” he answered ”He is mad to say I hired hi back and the toil in the mines will be well for hi; the guards tensed, grasping their bills, then relaxed as he dropped his head suddenly, as if in sullen resignation, and not even De them from under his heavy black broith eyes that were slits of blue bale-fire

He struck with nocobra; his sword flashed in the candle light

Aztrias shrieked and his head flew from his shoulders in a shower of blood, the features frozen in a white mask of horror Catlike Conan wheeled and thrust roin

The Inquisitor's instinctive recoil barely deflected the point which sank into his thigh, glanced fro Deroan, unnerved and nauseated with agony

Conan had not paused The bill which Dionus flung up saved the prefect's skull froh the shaft, and sheared his ear cleanly fro speed of the barbarian paralyzed the senses of the police and ht flat-footed and dazed by his quickness and ferocity, half of theht back, except that Posthumo, more by luck than skill, threw his ar his sword-aruard's head, and Posthuaping red socket where an eye had been

Conan bounded back fro of his foes, to where Arus stood fue kick in the belly dropped hi, and Conan's sandalled heel crunched square in the watchh a ruin of splintered teeth, blowing bloody froth froled lips

Then all were frozen in their tracks by the soul-shaking horror of a scream which rose from the chamber into which Posthu door the clerk careat silent sobs, tears running down his pasty face and dripping off his loose sagging lips, like an idiot-babe weeping

All halted to stare at hi sword, the police with their lifted bills, De to staunch the blood that jetted fro stuments of broken teeth even Posthuh the bloodyout into the corridor and fell stiffly before thehter ofneck! Ha!

ha! ha! Oh, a long, a cursed long neck!” And then with a frightful convulsion he stiffened and lay grinning vacantly at the shadowy ceiling64

”He's dead!” whispered Dionus, awedly, forgetting his own hurt, and the barbarian who stood with his dripping sword so near hi eyes flaring ”He's not wounded in Mitra's name what is in that chamber?”

Then horror swept over the for the outer door, jah like led up and blundered blindly after his fellows, squealing like a wounded pig and begging the the in their fear But he crawled after thee to face the unknown, but he was unnerved and wounded, and the sword that had struck hih, he limped after his companions Police, charioteer and watch into the street, where the ht, not waiting to ask why Conan stood in the great corridor alone, save for the corpses on the floor

The barbarian shi+fted his grip on his sword and strode into the cha with rich silken tapestries; silken cushi+ons and couches lay strewn about in careless profusion; and over a heavy gilded screen a Face looked at the Cimmerian

Conan stared in wonder at the cold classic beauty of that countenance, whose like he had never seen a the sons of men Neither weakness nor mercy nor cruelty nor kindness, nor any other huht have been the marble mask of a God, carved by a master hand, except for the une, such as the Ciht fleetingly of the marble perfection of the body which the screen concealed it ht, since the face was so inhumanly beautiful But he could see only the God-like face, the finely molded head which swayed curiously frole word, in a rich vibrant tone that was like the golden chile-lost teotten before the kingdoms of man arose, but Conan knew that it meant, ”Come!”

And the Ci slash of his sword The beautiful head rolled from the top of the screen in a jet of dark blood and fell at his feet, and he gave back, fearing to touch it Then his skin crawled for the screen shook and heaved with the convulsions of so behind Conan had seen and heardmake such sounds in the death-throes There was a thrashi+ng, floundering noise, as if a great cable were being lashed violently about

At last the erly behind the screen Then the full horror of it all rushed over the Ciht65until the spires of Nuht of Set was like a nightmare, and the children of Set who once ruled the earth and who now sleep in their nighted caverns far below the black pyrailded screen there had been no huantic serpent66The Tower of the Elephant

The Tower of the Elephant

Torches flared murkily on the revels in the Maul, where the thieves of the east held carnival by night In the Maul they could carouse and roar as they liked, for honest people shunned the quarters, and watchmen, well paid with stained coins, did not interfere with their sport Along the crooked, unpaved streets with their heaps of refuse and sloppy puddles, drunken roisterers staggered, roaring Steel glinted in the shadohere wolf preyed on wolf, and frohter of wos

Torchlight licked luridly from broken s and wide-thrown doors, and out of those doors, stale s-jacks and fists has, rushed like a blow in the face

In one of these dens merriathered in every stage of rags and tatters furtive cut-purses, leering kidnappers, quick- fingered thieves, swaggering bravoes with their wenches, strident-voiced woues were the doers at their girdles and guile in their hearts But there olves of half a dozen outland nations there as well There was a giant Hyperborean renegade, taciturn, dangerous, with a broadsword strapped to his great gaunt frame for men wore steel openly in the Maul

There was a Shemitish counterfeiter, with his hook nose and curled blue-black beard There was a bold-eyed Brythunian wench, sitting on the knee of a tawny-haired Gunder mercenary soldier, a deserter froue whose bawdy jests were causing all the shouts of mirth was a professional kidnapper co to Zae of the art than he could ever attain

This man halted in his description of an intended victie tankard of frothing ale Then blowing the foam from his fat lips, he said, ”By Bel, God of all thieves, I'll show them how to steal wenches: I'll have her over the Za to receive her Three hundred pieces of silver, a count of Ophir pro Brythunian of the better class It took ar, to find one I kneould suit And is she a pretty baggage!”