Part 13 (1/2)
Shadows in the Moonlight ------------------------.
Conan's pride will not let him be ”Mr. Queen” to any woman, no matter how beautiful or ardent. After a time, Conan slips away to revisit his Cimmerian homeland and avenge himself on his old enemies, the Hyperboreans.
Conan is now nearly thirty. His blood brothers among the Cimmerians and the AEsir have won wives and sired sons, some of them as old and almost as big as Conan had been when he first ventured into the rat-infested slums of Zamora. His experiences as a corsair and a mercenary have stirred the spirit of battle and plunder too strongly in his blood for him to follow their example. When traders bring word of new wars in the South, Conan rides back to the Hyborian kingdoms.
A rebel prince of Koth is fighting to overthrow Strabonus, penurious king of that far-stretched nation, and Conan finds himself among old companions in the princelings army. Unfortunately, the prince makes peace with his king, and his mercenary force becomes unemployed. Its members, Conan among them, form an outlaw band, the Free Companions, who harry the borders of Koth, Zamora, and Turan impartially. They finally gravitate to the steppes west of the Sea of Vilayet, where they join the ruffian horde known as kozaki.
Conan soon fights his way to the leaders.h.i.+p of this lawless crew and ravages the western borders of the Turanian Empire, until his old employer, King Yildiz, adopts a policy of ma.s.sive retaliation. A force under Shah Amurath lures the kozaki deep into Turanian territory and cuts them down in a b.l.o.o.d.y battle by the river Ilbars.
Chapter One.
A swift cras.h.i.+ng of horses through the tall reeds; a heavy fall, a despairing cry. From the dying steed there staggered up its rider, a slender girl in sandals and girdled tunic. Her dark hair fell over her white shoulders; her eyes were those of a trapped animal. She did not look at the jungle of reeds that hemmed in the little clearing, nor at the blue waters that lapped the low sh.o.r.e behind her. Her wide-eyed gaze was fixed in agonized intensity on the horseman who pushed through the reedy screen and dismounted before her.
He was a tall man, slender, but hard as steel. From head to heel he was clad in light, silvered mesh mail that fitted his supple form like a glove. From under the dome-shaped, gold-chased helmet his brown eyes regarded her mockingly.
”Stand back!” her voice shrilled with terror. ”Touch me not, Shah Amurath, or I will throw myself into the water and drown!”
He laughed, and his laughter was like the purr of a sword sliding from a silken sheath.
”No, you will not drown, Olivia, daughter of confusion, for the marge is too shallow, and I can catch you before you can reach the deeps. You gave me a merry chase, by the G.o.ds, and all my men are far behind us.
But there is no horse west of Vilayet that can distance Irem for long.”
He nodded at the tall, slender-legged desert stallion behind him.
”Let me go!” begged the girl, tears of despair staining her face. ”Have I not suffered enough? Is there any humiliation, pain, or degradation you have not heaped on me? How long must my torment last?”
”As long as I find pleasure in your whimperings, your pleas, tears, and writhings,” he answered with a smile that would have seemed gentle to a stranger. ”You are strangely virile, Olivia. I wonder if I shall ever weary of you, as I have always wearied of women before. You are ever fresh and unsullied, in spite of me. Each new day with you brings a new delight.
”But come-let us return to Akif, where the people are still feting the conqueror of the miserable kozaki; while he, the conqueror, is engaged in recapturing a wretched fugitive, a foolish, lovely, idiotic runaway!”
”No!” She recoiled, turning toward the waters lapping bluely among the reeds.
”Yes!” His flash of open anger was like a spark struck from flint. With a quickness her tender limbs could not approximate, he caught her wrist, twisting it in pure wanton cruelty until she screamed and sank to her knees.
”s.l.u.t! I should drag you back to Akif at my horse's tail, but I will be merciful and carry you on my saddlebow, for which favor you shall humbly thank me, while---”
He released her with a startled oath and sprang back, his saber flas.h.i.+ng out, as a terrible apparition burst from the reedy jungle, sounding an inarticulate cry of hate.
Olivia, staring up from the ground, saw what she took to be either a savage or a madman advancing on Shah Amurath in an att.i.tude of deadly menace. He was powerfully built, naked but for a girdled loincloth which was stained with blood and crusted with dried mire. His black mane was matted with mud and clotted blood; there were streaks of dried blood on his chest and limbs, dried blood on the long straight sword he gripped in his right hand. From under the tangle of his locks, bloodshot eyes glared like coals of blue fire.
”You Hyrkanian dog!” mouthed this apparition in a barbarous accent ”The devils of vengeance have brought you here!”
”Kozak! e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Shah Amurath, recoiling. ”I did not know a dog of you escaped! I thought you all lay stiff in the steepe, by Ilbars River.”
”All but me, d.a.m.n you!” cried the other. ”Oh, I've dreamed of such a meeting as this, while I crawled on my belly through the brambles, or lay under rocks while the ants gnawed my flesh, or crouched in the mire up to my mouth-I dreamed, but never hoped it would come to pa.s.s. Oh, G.o.ds of h.e.l.l, how I have yearned for this!”
The stranger's bloodthirsty joy was terrible to behold. His jaws champed spasmodically, froth appeared on his blackened lips.
”Keep back!” ordered Shah Amurath, watching him narrowly.
”Ha!” It was like the bark of a timber wolf. ”Shah Amurath, the great lord of Akif! Oh, d.a.m.n you, how I love the sight of you-you, who fed my comrades to the vultures, who tore them between wild horses, blinded and maimed and mutilated them-ai, you dog, you filthy dog!” His voice rose to a maddened scream, and he charged.