Part 12 (2/2)
”A king does not accept the challenge of a nameless savage,” he sneered, ”nor does the emperor of Valusia break the Truce of Amba.s.sadors. You have leave to go. Say to Ka-nu I will come alone.”
The Pict's eyes flashed murderously. He fairly shook in the grasp of the primitive blood-l.u.s.t; then, turning his back squarely upon the king of Valusia, he strode across the Hall of Society and vanished through the great door.
Again Kull leaned back upon the ermine throne and meditated.
So the chief of the Council of Picts wished him to come alone? But for what reason? Treachery? Grimly Kull touched the hilt of his great sword. But scarcely. The Picts valued too greatly the alliance with Valusia to break it for any feudal reason. Kull might be a warrior of Atlantis and hereditary enemy of all Picts, but too, he was king of Valusia, the most potent ally of the Men of the West.
Kull reflected long upon the strange state of affairs that made him ally of ancient foes and foe of ancient friends. He rose and paced restlessly across the hall, with the quick, noiseless tread of a lion. Chains of friends.h.i.+p, tribe and tradition had he broken to satisfy his ambition. And, by Valka, G.o.d of the sea and the land, he had realized that ambition! He was king of Valusia -- a fading, degenerate Valusia, a Valusia living mostly in dreams of bygone glory, but still a mighty land and the greatest of the Seven Empires. Valusia -- Land of Dreams, the tribesmen named it, and sometimes it seemed to Kull that he moved in a dream. Strange to him were the intrigues of court and palace, army and people. All was like a masquerade, where men and women hid their real thoughts with a smooth mask. Yet the seizing of the throne had been easy -- a bold s.n.a.t.c.hing of opportunity, the swift whirl of swords, the slaying of a tyrant of whom men had wearied unto death, short, crafty plotting with ambitious statesmen out of favor at court -- and Kull, wandering adventurer, Atlantean exile, had swept up to the dizzy heights of his dreams: he was lord of Valusia, king of kings. Yet now it seemed that the seizing was far easier than the keeping. The sight of the Pict had brought back youthful a.s.sociations to his mind, the free, wild savagery of his boyhood. And now a strange feeling of dim unrest, of unreality, stole over him as of late it had been doing. Who was he, a straightforward man of the seas and the mountain, to rule a race strangely and terribly wise with the mysticisms of antiquity? An ancient race -- ”I am Kull!” said he, flinging back his head as a lion flings back his mane. ”I am Kull!”
His falcon gaze swept the ancient hall. His self-confidence flowed back.... And in a dim nook of the hall a tapestry moved -- slightly.
*2. Thus Spake the Silent Halls of Valusia*
The moon had not risen, and the garden was lighted with torches aglow in silver cressets when Kull sat down in the throne before the table of Ka-nu, amba.s.sador of the western isles. At his right hand sat the ancient Pict, as much unlike an emissary of that fierce race as a man could be. Ancient was Ka-nu and wise in statecraft, grown old in the game. There was no elemental hatred in the eyes that looked at Kull appraisingly; no tribal traditions hindered his judgments. Long a.s.sociations with the statesmen of the civilized nations had swept away such cobwebs. Not ”Who and what is this man?” was the question ever foremost in Ka-nu's mind, but ”Can I use this man, and how?” Tribal prejudices he used only to further his own schemes.
And Kull watched Ka-nu, answering his conversation briefly, wondering if civilization would make of him a thing like the Pict. For Ka-nu was soft and paunchy. Many years had stridden across the sky-rim since Ka-nu had wielded a sword. True, he was old, but Kull had seen men older than he in the forefront of battle. The Picts were a long-lived race. A beautiful girl stood at Ka-nu's elbow, refilling his goblet, and she was kept busy. Meanwhile Ka-nu kept up a running fire of jests and comments, and Kull, secretly contemptuous of his garrulity, nevertheless missed none of his shrewd humor.
At the banquet were Pictish chiefs and statesmen, the latter jovial and easy in their manner, the warriors formally courteous, but plainly hampered by their tribal affinities. Yet Kull, with a tinge of envy, was cognizant of the freedom and ease of the affair as contrasted with like affairs of the Valusian court. Such freedom prevailed in the rude camps of Atlantis -- Kull shrugged his shoulders. After all, doubtless Ka-nu, who had seemed to have forgotten he was a Pict as far as time-h.o.a.ry custom and prejudice went, was right and he, Kull, would better become a Valusian in mind as in name.
At last when the moon had reached her zenith, Ka-nu, having eaten and drunk as much as any three men there, leaned back upon his divan with a comfortable sigh and said, ”Now, get you gone, friends, for the king and I would converse on such matters as concerns not children. Yes, you too, my pretty; yet first let me kiss those ruby lips -- so; now dance away, my rose-bloom.”
Ka-nu's eyes twinkled above his white beard as he surveyed Kull, who sat erect, grim and uncompromising.
”You are thinking, Kull,” said the old statesman, suddenly, ”that Ka-nu is a useless old reprobate, fit for nothing except to guzzle wine and kiss wenches!”
In fact, this remark was so much in line with his actual thoughts, and so plainly put, that Kull was rather startled, though he gave no sign.
Ka-nu gurgled and his paunch shook with his mirth. ”Wine is red and women are soft,” he remarked tolerantly. ”But -- ha-ha! -- think not old Ka-nu allows either to interfere with business.”
Again he laughed, and Kull moved restlessly. This seemed much like being made sport of, and the king's scintillant eyes began to glow with a feline light.
Ka-nu reached for the wine-pitcher, filled his beaker and glanced questioningly at Kull, who shook his head irritably.
”Aye,” said Ka-nu equably, ”it takes an old head to stand strong drink. I am growing old, Kull, so why should you young men begrudge me such pleasures as we oldsters must find? Ah me, I grow ancient and withered, friendless and cheerless.”
But his looks and expressions failed far of bearing out his words. His rubicund countenance fairly glowed, and his eyes sparkled, so that his white beard seemed incongruous. Indeed, he looked remarkably elfin, reflected Kull, who felt vaguely resentful. The old scoundrel had lost all of the primitive virtues of his race and of Kull's race, yet he seemed more pleased in his aged days than otherwise.
”Hark ye, Kull,” said Ka-nu, raising an admonitory finger, ”'tis a chancy thing to laud a young man, yet I must speak my true thoughts to gain your confidence.”
”If you think to gain it by flattery -- ”
”Tush. Who spake of flattery? I flatter only to disguard.”
There was a keen sparkle in Ka-nu's eyes, a cold glimmer that did not match his lazy smile. He knew men, and he knew that to gain his end he must smite straight with this tigerish barbarian, who, like a wolf scenting a snare, would scent out unerringly any falseness in the skein of his word-web.
”You have power, Kull,” said he, choosing his words with more care than he did in the council rooms of the nation, ”to make yourself mightiest of all kings, and restore some of the lost glories of Valusia. So. I care little for Valusia -- though the women and wine be excellent -- save for the fact that the stronger Valusia is, the stronger is the Pict nation. More, with an Atlantean on the throne, eventually Atlantis will become united -- ”
Kull laughed in harsh mockery. Ka-nu had touched an old wound.
”Atlantis made my name accursed when I went to seek fame and fortune among the cities of the world. We -- they -- are age-old foes of the Seven Empires, greater foes of the allies of the Empires, as you should know.”
Ka-nu tugged his beard and smiled enigmatically.
”Nay, nay. Let it pa.s.s. But I know whereof I speak. And then warfare will cease, wherein there is no gain; I see a world of peace and prosperity -- man loving his fellow man -- the good supreme. All this can you accomplish -- _if you live!_”
”Ha!” Kull's lean hand closed on his hilt and he half-rose, with a sudden movement of such dynamic speed that Ka-nu, who fancied men as some men fancy blooded horses, felt his old blood leap with a sudden thrill. Valka, what a warrior! Nerves and sinews of steel and fire, bound together with the perfect coordination, the fighting instinct, that makes the terrible warrior.
But none of Ka-nu's enthusiasm showed in his mildly sarcastic tone.
”Tush. Be seated. Look about you. The gardens are deserted, the seats empty, save for ourselves. You fear not _me_?”
Kull sank back, gazing about him warily.
”There speaks the savage,” mused Ka-nu. ”Think you if I planned treachery I would enact it here where suspicion would be sure to fall upon me? Tut. You young tribesmen have much to learn. There were my chiefs who were not at ease because you were born among the hills of Atlantis, and you despise me in your secret mind because I am a Pict. Tush. I see you as Kull, king of Valusia, not as Kull, the reckless Atlantean, leader of the raiders who harried the western isles. So you should see in me, not a Pict but an international man, a figure of the world. Now to that figure, hark! If you were slain tomorrow who would be king?”
”Kaanuub, baron of Blaal.”
”Even so. I object to Kaanuub for many reasons, yet most of all for the fact that he is but a figurehead.”
”How so? He was my greatest opponent, but I did not know that he championed any cause but his own.”
”The night can hear,” answered Ka-nu obliquely. ”There are worlds within worlds. But you may trust me and you may trust Brule, the Spear-slayer. Look!” He drew from his robes a bracelet of gold representing a winged dragon coiled thrice, with three horns of ruby on the head.
”Examine it closely. Brule will wear it on his arm when he comes to you tomorrow night so that you may know him. Trust Brule as you trust yourself, and do what he tells you to. And in proof of trust, look ye!”
And with the speed of a striking hawk, the ancient s.n.a.t.c.hed something from his robes, something that flung a weird green light over them, and which he replaced in an instant.
”The stolen gem!” exclaimed Kull recoiling. ”The green jewel from the Temple of the Serpent! Valka! You! And why do you show it to me?”
”To save your life. To prove my trust. If I betray your trust, deal with me likewise. You hold my life in your hand. Now I could not be false to you if I would, for a word from you would be my doom.”
Yet for all his words the old scoundrel beamed merrily and seemed vastly pleased with himself.
”But why do you give me this hold over you?” asked Kull, becoming more bewildered each second.
”As I told you. Now, you see that I do not intend to deal you false, and tomorrow night when Brule comes to you, you will follow his advice without fear of treachery. Enough. An escort waits outside to ride to the palace with you, lord.”
Kull rose. ”But you have told me nothing.”
”Tush. How impatient are youths!” Ka-nu looked more like a mischievous elf than ever. ”Go you and dream of thrones and power and kingdoms, while I dream of wine and soft women and roses. And fortune ride with you, King Kull.”
As he left the garden, Kull glanced back to see Ka-nu still reclining lazily in his seat, a merry ancient, beaming on all the world with jovial fellows.h.i.+p.
A mounted warrior waited for the king just without the garden and Kull was slightly surprized to see that it was the same that had brought Ka-nu's invitation. No word was spoken as Kull swung into the saddle nor as they clattered along the empty streets.
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