"Master," the hunchbacked Cyclops said. It had a voice like sail canvas being torn.
"Go to the Northern Chambers," Ray said, "and prepare a reception for anyone who ventures to cross the land above. I will have any who dare the forbidden paths brought before me."
"Master," Wikkell said by way of acknowledgment. He bowed slightly, causing his hands to scrape the floor, and turned to leave.
"Alive," Rey said to the retreating form. "I want them alive."
Chuntha the witch fondled the carved baculum wand and regarded her thrall. The Worm Gigantus lay before her, flattened on its bottom by its own weight. It looked as if someone had taken an ordinary red earthworm, increased its size by more than a thousandfold, and bleached it ghostly white. There were no features recognizable as a face―one end seemed much like the other―but a series of discolorations did indicate that the head of the giant worm faced Chuntha. Three times as long as a man's height and easily as thick as a wine barrel, the worm twitched as it listened to its mistress.
"Go, Deek," she said, "to the Northern Chambers. The danger to us will manifest itself there, and soon. We must control it to survive and triumph over That Bastard who opposes us. You are authorized to create an alliance with any who would aid us: the bats, the Whites, the Webspinners, any or all of them. Promise them what they ask, but do not allow the forces of That Bastard to obtain that which I seek. Do you understand?"
The worm could not speak, but by scraping its body in certain ways over the stone beneath it, the creature could manufacture a kind of counterfeit voice. "Y-y-yes-s."
When her servant had left, undulating its torpid body over the slimed floor, Chuntha stroked her cheek with the wand, thinking. She had not envisioned such a powerful dream in some time. The danger would come from a single man. She had seen that much, but not the face of the stranger. In the dim green light, she regarded the baculum. It had power, but perhaps not enough in this instance. Mayhap she needed to try the dreaming jewel. The ensorceled gem contained much magical force, and there was some risk involved in its use, but this was no time to be cautious. The signs portended great danger, and dangerous times required risky measures. Yes. She would fondle the dreaming jewel and see what insight it offered.
In the manse that perched upon the high rocks like a mountain goat, the Harskeel regarded itself in a floor-to-ceiling mirror, feeling for the first time in years a real sense of hope. That barbarian along the high road… could he be the one? Surely he was brave; he had faced six-to-one odds, even though his confederate had aided him. And the latest story, of how he had slain another in the village tavern with no more effort or worry than a man slaughtering sheep… surely that added to his bravery?
The Harskeel in the mirror nodded. Aye, it seemed to say, the blooded sword of this one might well be the final key we have been awaiting these last fifteen years. If this barbar―named Conan, according to its spies in the tavern―is the one, then we can be as we were before.
Yes. A pleasant thought.
Soon we shall have him, the Harskeel told itself. Already a score of our men prepare to ride. No matter how many must die, we will have that blade… and the blood of its bearer! Certainly a pleasant thought.
The newly fallen snow enfolded the village like a white shroud, a pristine blanket that sparkled under an icy-blue sky. The storm had passed, leaving peace in its wake.
The sun had already completed a major portion of its morning's journey when Conan and Elashi emerged from the inn. They had breakfasted well; additionally, the innkeeper had supplied them with snowshoes so they might more easily traverse the knee-deep snows that had covered the road.
"We shall take the shorter route mentioned by the innkeeper," Conan said.
Elashi shook her head. "Did not you hear also the tale of the watchbeast that sometimes prowls that shorter path?"
"Aye. And Conan of Cimmeria is not prepared to march for an additional five days merely to avoid some escaped dog that sometimes prowls' a path." He patted his sword. "A blade that has slain a dire-wolf will certainly serve to dispatch some mangy cur should it trouble us."
"I did not hear the innkeeper say that the beast was a dog."
"What else? Perhaps the watchbeast is instead a goose. So much the better―then we shall dine in high style―should it honk threateningly at us." He laughed, amused by the image.
For once Elashi was quiet. Conan silently thanked Crom for not-so-small a favor.
So the pair marched away from the small village, high-stepping on their bentwood-and-gut snowshoes, hearing the dry powder beneath their feet squeak with each step. The day was bracing, if cold, and Conan felt rested from his sleep and belly-warm with his breakfast. Another two days would see them clear of the Karpash mountains and out of Corinthia, onto the Zamoran plateau. It was but another half-moon's walk to Shadizar, so he had been told. Less if he could steal a pair of horses. Once there, Elashi would continue southward and he could be about the business of enriching himself through serious thievery. He looked forward to that with interest.
The twenty riders struggled to control their mounts. The breath of men and animals made fog in the freezing air as the horses shifted nervously about.
Then the Harskeel itself entered the courtyard astride its stallion. From its throat the deep voice boomed out over the gathered riders. "I want the man and his sword. A bag of gold coins to the one who delivers them together. And a swift and painful death to any man who is the cause of their loss. Is that perfectly clear?"
There came a murmur of assent from the riders.
"Good. We ride for the village. Now!"
The thunder of hooves shook the morning as the Harskeel and its minions departed the manse's courtyard.
Three hours out of the village, Conan and Elashi paused to lunch upon strips of lamb jerky purchased at the inn. The meat was dry and chewy, but fortunately the innkeeper had also supplied the couple with a leather flask of mild wine, and they used this to wash down the jerky. Later, when they camped for the night, Conan could set snares for rabbits or ringtails, which they could roast over the evening's fire. With luck, they could be through the pass and over the mountain road's highest elevation by darkfall.
Wikkell, the hunchbacked cyclops, moved through narrow corridors of wet stone, splashing through puddles of limed water that sometimes bubbled with inner effervescence. There were a dozen ways to reach the Northern Chambers, this tunnel being one of the wider ones, albeit not the shortest. It would not do to be stuck in one of the narrow tubes whilst on Katamay Rey's business. The master held no interest in excuses, and he was not gentle with those who failed him. Wikkell's predecessor as first assistant had angered the wizard, and as a result, had spent his final moment of life turning into a puddle of putrid ooze upon Rey's chamber floor. Wikkell's first chore as new assistant had been to clean up the remains of his predecessor, an unpleasant task that ever cautioned him to take extreme care in dealing with the wizard who ruled half of the cave system.
Recalling that incident served to hurry Wikkell's splayed feet as he moved toward his goal. Should he fail in his assigned task, 'twould be better not to return to these parts at all; certainly it was an option he would keep in mind, but one he would rather not exercise. He increased his pace yet more.
Deek slithered along a twisting tunnel, moving quite fast for a being without appendages. The belly plates upon which he traveled had evolved to suit rock, and he slid forward more like a snake than a worm, winding from side to side, head slightly raised above the slimed floor of the cave.
As he crawled along, Deek formulated his plans for communication with the other sentient species that inhabited the Grotterium Negrotus. The Bloodbats lived to eat and procreate, and they always needed more room. He could offer them one of the giant caverns to the west of the cave complex as a breeding ground. Chuntha had kept them empty for reasons of her own, and the bats would do anything to occupy such a vast space.
The Webspinners, on the other coil, were per
manently stationary, and grown thin from lack of proper food. Could Deek assure them of a steady food supply, they would be more than willing to aid the witch in any way they could.
And the Blind Whites? Well, they were quite another matter. Those obscene, apelike creatures were friendly with the cyclopes and unlikely to want anything Chuntha could supply. Like as not, they would pull rock daggers on any worm foolish enough to approach them, stabbing first and asking each other stupid questions as they ingested the remains. Best to avoid those vermin altogether.
Deek had not seen Chuntha so agitated since the worms had brought her that man traveler a few months past. She had practically danced then; unfortunately, the poor traveler had not lasted very long under the witch's ministrations, a single episode in her bed being enough to finish him. But the remains had been quite tasty, as Deek recalled. Perhaps the witch would allow them to have her leavings again once this new traveler had served his purpose. But first they had to catch him. Deek increased his coiling, moving faster. It would not do to miss this person. Not at all. Deek had no desire to serve as fodder for the lime pits, a fate very, likely to be the result of failing to please Chuntha.
Conan and Elashi rounded the trail's turning as the sun began to sink behind the tallest peak to the west. The trek had been monotonous thus far. They had seen no one save an occasional curious mountain goat peering down at them. Another hour or so and they could stop for the night, Conan figured.
Then, just ahead, from the hard shadow of a sharp-edged spire of rock, a monster stepped into their path.
Conan and Elashi stopped and stared at the beast. Big it was, as large as a draft horse, but save that it stood on four legs, altogether unlike any horse they had ever seen. The beast looked to have been assembled by some mad god intent on blending dog, cat, and rat. The head was mostly canine but with catlike jowls and teeth; the body wore striped fur, much like a domestic tabby's, but in contour it was more like a hunting hound. The tail was long and pink, naked of hair, and properly belonged on a giant rat. The feet were also ratlike, with four toes on each foot, and each toe was tipped with a black claw. The thing growled and emitted a short bark, sounding like a great grizzled bear.
Without taking her startled gaze from the monster, Elashi spoke. "Some mangy stray dog, you said? Or perhaps a fat goose upon which we could dine, eh? Once again you astound me with your predictive powers, Conan."
"Better you should use your blade than your mouth," Conan said, starting to reach for his own sword.
The thing gave another bearlike bark and sniffed the air. Conan froze, leaving his sword in place. The wind was at the watchbeast's back, as the outlander could tell from the stench reaching his nostrils. Perhaps it could not see particularly well, for it made no move toward them.
"It seems unsure of us," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Perhaps if we remain still, it will lose interest."
"We might stand here until we starve," Elashi said, her voice also low.
"I am open to suggestion."
"Why do you always say that at such times as this?" Her voice grew somewhat louder.
"Why not yell, to better attract its attention?"
That shut her up. They stared at the composite beast.
For its part, the watchbeast did seem somewhat confused. It cocked its head from side to side, quizzically staring in Conan and Elashi's direction. Had it any sight at all, it seemed impossible that it would miss them, the distance being less than perhaps thirty spans; it sniffed the frosty air unmoving.
Conan's hand itched to pull his sword, but he remained still. Better to wait a few moments at least, to see what the thing would do. If it came at them, he would have plenty of time to draw his weapon, although fighting such a monster hardly seemed a pleasant pursuit.
The horseman touched the track in the snow, then turned to face the Harskeel and the other riders. "Very fresh, m'lord. The snow has kept the impression of the footwear's strings. They can be no more than a very few minutes ahead of us."
The Harskeel flashed its ambiguous smile. "Good. Forward!"
"Have you gods we can call upon?" Elashi whispered.
"None but Crom," Conan said. "And Crom rarely listens to prayers. He gives a man strength and cunning in certain measure at birth, then allows him to make his own way in the world."
"A harsh god," Elashi said.
"Aye. He rules over a harsh land, he could be little else."
"My own gods tend to be good for finding water or helping with the hunt," she said. "I don't think we have any god for dealing with the likes of that." She gestured at the beast with a glance. The thing had by this time sat upon its haunches, still staring in the direction of the two unmoving people.
"I cannot understand why it does not merely approach closer to see what we are," Conan said.
"Let us not give it any ideas in that direction, Conan."
"We cannot stay here forever," he said. "Perhaps we can utilize the same trick we played upon the Harskeel. I shall run aslant to it and when it chases me, you can attack it from the rear."
"A good idea," she said quickly.
Conan could not suppress a small chuckle. She did not hurry to volunteer to draw this beast's attention, he noted.
"Of course, once I move, it might notice us both," Conan said. "And mayhap choose to take the stationary meal instead."
Elashi considered this for all of three seconds. "On second thought, I think perhaps your plan lacks merit. Let us both draw our blades and run directly at it."
"Aye, better than to die a frozen statue. Ready?"
"As I shall ever be."
"Your sword, then."
As Conan and Elashi unsheathed their weapons, the watching monster came to its feet. Its striped fur bristled and it uttered several more barks, followed by a rumbling growl. The two were starting to run, when they heard another sound.
"There they are!"
Conan glanced over his shoulder to see a horde of horsemen bearing down upon them.
"Crom! What is this?"
Elashi did not question her fortunes, however. She merely took off at a right angle to the trail, diving behind a clump of scraggly brush. Conan understood. He duplicated the desert woman's dive and crouched down behind the weedy cover in time to see the watchbeast go sprinting past, heading straight for the approaching horsemen.
The bearlike cries and growls joined the yells of startled men and the whinny of terrified horses.
The watchbeast leaped, knocked three riders from their mounts and began to claw and chew the downed men, rending them as easily as a wolf does a hare. The other men began throwing pikes, some of which struck the monster, injuring and enraging it.
Conan saw at the rear of the pack of men and animals none other than the Harskeel itself, gesturing and screaming at its men.
"I think it best that we depart," Conan said, pointing at the fracas.
"For once I agree."
Quickly, the two of them hurried away from the fight.
Ten minutes away from the battle behind them, Conan and Elashi slowed their pace somewhat. "I think the Harskeel will have its hands full binding wounds," he said. "Besides, they will not be able to follow us in the dark. Nightfall is only moment away. We are safe for now."
Elashi nodded. "The Harskeel must indeed consider you a prime candidate for its magic."
"Aye, but… who knows? Mayhap it considers you a candidate as well. You also bear a sword."
That thought made her stop and think for a moment.
"We shall continue walking through the night," Conan said. "By morning we should be clear of the mountain and able to take any direction we choose on the plateau. They won't be able to follow us if we take pains to cover our trail."
"Then you feel we are in no danger?"
"I have no doubt of it," Conan said, smiling. Just then the ground opened beneath them, swallowing them like the maw of some giant creature.
* * *
Four
The le
ngth of their fall was nearly five spans; fortunately, the bottom of the descent was watery. Conan splashed into an icy pool and sank, quickly touching the bottom. He pushed away and broke the surface, realizing that he could easily stand as the depth was equal only to his chest. Elashi's head appeared briefly above the surface as she came up yelling; then she began to sink again. Apparently her rearing in the desert had not included instruction in the art of swimming. Conan grabbed one of Elashi's wildly waving hands and pulled her to him. She immediately clamped her legs around his waist and wound her arms tightly around his neck, sputtering incoherently.
The Cimmerian took stock. The pool was no more than a small pond in size, occupying a portion of what was obviously a tunnel in a cavern. The walls of this rock tube appeared to be as smooth as a child's face, and curved upward in tight arcs that, combined with the lack of projections, offered no means by which to climb. Cimmerians learned to climb almost as soon as they learned to walk, and if one of them could see no way of ascending something, likely it could not be done. Were the ceiling closer, he could perhaps toss Elashi up to the hole there, and she might then dangle knotted clothing or a vine down to Conan for him to climb up. Yes, and were lizards winged, why, then they would be birds.
The thickening night above offered less light with every moment. Best they leave this freezing water as soon as possible, Conan thought, and find another exit before darkness enshrouded them totally. He began to wade from the pool to the nearest shore, Elashi's weight being small burden on his efforts.
"Crom!"
Elashi leaned back from her tight embrace to look at Conan's face. "What it is?"
Conan did not answer but nodded toward the shadows of the cave. Elashi turned slightly to see what had drawn the oath from the Cimmerian.
Moving into the fast-dwindling light from out of the hidden depths of the cave came a double handful of… things. White they were, squat creatures more kin to ape than human. They wore no clothing save their own shaggy fur, and while each face showed a nose and mouth, where their eyes would be were only blank flesh and bone. They bore very large ears, however.
The Conan Compendium Page 73