Part 30 (1/2)
”The prison will be left all but unguarded. When we have freed Taramis, our next actions will depend upon circ.u.mstances. If Conan wins, we must show Taramis to the people and bid them rise-they will! Oh, they will!
With their bare hands they are enough to overpower the Shemites left in the city and close the gates against both the mercenaries and the nomads. Neither must get within the walls! Then we will parley with Conan. He was always loyal to Taramis. If he knows the truth, and she appeals to him, I believe he will spare the city. If, which is more probable, Constantius prevails, and Conan is routed, we must steal out of the city with the queen and seek safety in flight.
”Is all clear?”
They replied with one voice.
”Then let us loosen our blades in our scabbards, commend our souls to Ishtar, and start for the prison, for the mercenaries are already marching through the southern gate.”
This was true. The dawnlight glinted on peaked helmets pouring in a steady stream through the broad arch, on the bright housings of the chargers. This would be a battle of hors.e.m.e.n, such as is possible only in the lands of the East. The riders flowed through the gates like a river of steel-somber figures in black and silver mail, with their curled beards and hooked noses, and their inexorable eyes in which glimmered the fatality of their race -the utter lack of doubt or of mercy.
The streets and the walls were lined with throngs of people who watched silently these warriors of an alien race riding forth to defend their native city. There was no sound; dully, expressionlessly they watched, those gaunt people in shabby garments, their caps in their hands.
In a tower that overlooked the broad street that led to the southern gate, Salome lolled on a velvet couch, cynically watching Constantius as he settled his broad sword belt about his lean hips and drew on his gauntlets. They were alone in the chamber. Outside, the rhythmical clank of harness and shuffle of horses' hooves welled up through the gold-barred cas.e.m.e.nts.
”Before nightfall,” quoth Constantius, giving a twirl to his thin mustache, ”you'll have some captives to feed to your temple devil. Does it not grow weary of soft, city-bred flesh? Perhaps it would relish the harder thews of a desert man.”
”Take care you do not fall prey to a fiercer beast than Thaug,” warned the girl. ”Do not forget who it is that leads these desert animals.”
”I am not likely to forget,” he answered. ”That is one reason why I am advancing to meet him. The dog has fought in the West and knows the art of siege. My scouts had some trouble in approaching his columns, for his outriders have eyes like hawks; but they did get close enough to see the engines he is dragging on oxcart wheels drawn by camels-catapults, rams, ballistas, mangonels-by Ishtar! he must have had ten thousand men working day and night for a month. Where he got the material for their construction is more than I can understand.
Perhaps he has a treaty with the Turanians and gets supplies from them.
”Anyway, they won't do him any good. I've fought these desert wolves before-an exchange of arrows for a while, in which the armor of my warriors protects them- then a charge and my squadrons sweep through the loose swarms of the nomads, wheel and sweep back through, scattering them to the four winds. I'll ride back through the south gate before sunset, with hundreds of naked captives staggering at my horse's tail. We'll hold a fete tonight, in the great square. My soldiers delight in flaying their enemies alive-we will have a wholesale skinning, and make these weak-kneed townsfolk watch. As for Conan, it will afford me intense pleasure, if we can take him alive, to impale him on the palace steps.”
”Skin as many as you like,” answered Salome indifferently. ”I would like a dress made of human hide. But at least a hundred captives you must give to me-for the altar, and for Thaug.”
”It shall be done,” answered Constantius, with his gauntleted hand brus.h.i.+ng back the thin hair from his high, bald forehead, burned dark by the sun. ”For victory and the fair honor of Taramis!” he said sardonically, and, taking his vizored helmet under his arm, he lifted a hand in salute and strode clanking from the chamber. His voice drifted back, harshly lifted in orders to his officers.
Salome leaned back on the couch, yawned, stretched herself like a great, supple cat, and called: ”Zang!”
A cat-footed priest, with features like yellowed parchment stretched over a skull, entered noiselessly.
Salome turned to an ivory pedestal on which stood two crystal globes and, taking from it the smaller, she handed the glistening sphere to the priest.
”Ride with Constantius,” she said. ”Give me the news of the battle.
Go!”
The skull-faced man bowed low and, hiding the globe under his dark mantle, hurried from the chamber.
Outside in the city there was no sound, except the clank of hoofs and after a while the clang of a closing gate, Salome mounted a wide marble stair that led to the flat, canopied, marble-battlemented roof. She was above all other buildings of the city. The streets were deserted, the great square in front of the palace was empty. In normal times folk shunned the grim temple which rose on the opposite side of that square, but now the town looked like a dead city. Only on the southern wall and the roofs that overlooked it was there any sign of life. There the people ma.s.sed thickly. They made no demonstration, did not know whether to hope for the victory or defeat of Constantius. Victory meant further misery under his intolerable rule; defeat probably meant the sack of the city and red ma.s.sacre. No word had come from Conan. They did not know what to expect at his hands. They remembered that he was a barbarian.
The squadrons of the mercenaries were moving out into the plain. In the distance, just this side of the river, other dark ma.s.ses were moving, barely recognizable as men on horses. Objects dotted the farther bank; Conan had not brought his siege engines across the river, apparently fearing an attack in the midst of the crossing. But he had crossed with his full force of hors.e.m.e.n. The sun rose and struck glints of fire from the dark mult.i.tudes. The squadrons from the city broke into a gallop; a deep roar reached the ears of the people on the wall.
The rolling ma.s.ses merged, intermingled; at that distance it was a tangled confusion in which no details stood out. Charge and countercharge were not to be identified. Clouds of dust rose from the plains, under the stamping hoofs, veiling the action. Through these swirling clouds ma.s.ses of riders loomed, appearing and disappearing, and spears flashed.
Salome shrugged her shoulders and descended the stair. The palace lay silent. All the slaves were on the wall, gazing vainly southward with the citizens.
She entered the chamber where she had talked with Constantius and approached the pedestal, noting that the crystal globe was clouded, shot with b.l.o.o.d.y streaks of crimson. She bent over the ball, swearing under her breath.
”Zang!” she called. ”Zang?”