The Conan Compendium

by Various Authors

  Conan cut another bat from the air, slinging its hot blood into Elashi's face. "Watch what you are doing!" she yelled.

  Tull said, "Here!"

  Conan and the desert woman hurried through the sudden clearing of antagonists to the tunnel in which Tull stood, urging them to him. In another moment they had made their exit.

  Running down the tunnel, Conan asked, "Where are we going?"

  "Does it matter?" Elashi said. "Away from that place!"

  "This tunnel has a number of twists and branches," Tull called out, a wheeze in his voice. "We can lose any pursuit here."

  "Perhaps they will not pursue us at all."

  "I think that might be wishful thinking, lass. It strikes me that all of 'em are after you and the big 'un here."

  "Wonderful," Elashi muttered. "Just wonderful."

  The Harskeel was willing to allow all of its men to, die could it but attain its prey, but there was no point in permitting them to be slaughtered without achieving that goal. The tunnel into which Conan and the girl―and that old man, who was he?―had fled was all the way across a cavern full of strange creatures bent upon destruction. Best to retreat and gather his energies for a later pursuit, the Harskeel told itself.

  "To me!" it called.

  Only four pikemen were able to respond, and the Harskeel, bloody sword in hand, led them to the nearest exit. On the way, they gathered up one of the wounded bats. Could it talk, they would question it later.

  Wikkell stood glaring down at the giant worm, his breath still coming fast from his exertions. "Call off your bats!" he ordered the coiled creature.

  Deek uncoiled slightly and scraped part of himself over the rock beneath his body. "H-h-have y-your W-whites c-c-cease t-their d-d-destruction!"

  Cyclops and worm glared at each other.

  "You have allowed them to get away!"

  "I-I h-have a-allowed it? I-it is y-y-you w-who a-allowed it!"

  Behind Wikkell, one of the Whites screamed, struggling with three bats who had stuck their feeding tubes into him.

  "While we stand here arguing, they move further into the tunnels. Perhaps we can strike a bargain? We can work together. There are three of them, after all; we can divide them up when we catch them. They all look alike… who is to know?"

  Deek considered this for a moment. Aye, better to have One Eye where he could be seen, and there was some merit in the plan, not that he intended to share anything once the men were collected. "A-a-agreed!"

  Wikkell held his smile in check. Once they caught the humans, he could smash the worm with a big rock and that would be the end of it. In the meantime, it would be better to have the witch's thrall where he could keep his eye watching it.

  "Let us go, then," Wikkell said.

  "W-wh-what of y-your W-w-whites?"

  Wikkell turned to look. Most of the Whites were down; a few still hurled rocks at the swooping fliers.

  "Let the bats have them; thus far they have only gotten in my way."

  "A-as h-have the b-b-bats. C-c-come."

  Deek moved quickly, but with added caution. He trusted One Eye less than the distance he could fly like a bat, which was to say, not at all.

  Together, cyclops and worm started for the tunnel.

  In his chamber, Rey's impatience simmered to a roiling bubble.

  In her bed, Chuntha's agitation at being kept waiting blossomed like a bitter fungus.

  "Which way?" Conan asked as the three fleeing humans came to a triple forking of tunnels.

  Tull scratched at his beard. "I dunno," he said. "I never took this route afore."

  "One is as good as another," Elashi said. "The center path."

  Before either man could speak, the desert woman hurried into the chosen tunnel. Tull raised a questioning eyebrow at Conan.

  Conan shrugged. "She is like that. I have found it better not to argue. It saves much time."

  The two men followed Elashi.

  "Best you slow down," Conan called to Elashi. She was perhaps ten spans ahead of the Cimmerian youth and running nearly full out.

  "Can't keep up, Conan?" she called back.

  "No, it is just that―"

  His words were interrupted by Elashi's scream. She dropped suddenly from view, and her disappearance was followed almost immediately by a splash. Conan increased his speed and skidded to a halt on the damp rock just short of where the desert woman had vanished.

  He found himself on the edge of the largest cavern yet, balanced on a rocky lip overlooking a vast lake; he could not see the far shore as the fungal glow faded rapidly with distance, the water being illuminated only by the roof, a good ten spans above.

  A span or so below Conan, Elashi came up from the water, which reached only to her hips. Conan grinned down at her. "I can keep up. It is just that we don't know these tunnels and we might happen upon something unexpected," he said.

  "I hate you!" Elashi said.

  Tull slid to a stop next to Conan, overbalanced and nearly fell but was stopped by an outthrust brawny arm.

  "Take care," Conan said.

  Tull nodded, regaining his breath. "The Sunless Sea."

  "You know this place?"

  "I have seen it from a different vantage point, but yes." To Elashi, Tull said, "Best you exit the water, lass. There are certain creatures who live in it―"

  Whatever ending Tull intended to his sentence was lost in the splashing Elashi made as she frantically left the water. To Conan's left was a kind of beach a few steps away, and it was but four heartbeats before Elashi attained this drier vantage point. A short ledge led from the mouth of the tunnel along the rock wall to the beach, and Conan and Tull made their way down to the shore to join the woman.

  Elashi began to remove her wet clothing, wringing it out as she did so.

  "Give me your cape," she said to Conan, who managed to keep himself from smiling as he tendered the garment. The fall had served her right, but it was probably best to refrain from speaking it thus. She wrapped herself in the cape, which was hardly drier than her own clothing.

  "So," Conan said, "what of this sea?"

  "I know only a little about it," Tull answered. "It widens as you see here, and narrows to a small river's width in other places. S'posed to go on for miles and miles, though it's more like a large lake 'n a true sea―the water ain't brine. I learned this from a White I captured once."

  "Go on."

  "No one knows for certain where the sea ends, but it might be that it eventually emerges above the ground."

  Conan looked at the still water. "That would be reason enough to follow it."

  "Had we but a ship and rowers," Elashi put in. Sarcastically, as usual.

  "That might be possible," Tull said. "After a fashion."

  "How so?" Conan asked.

  "There are creatures in the water. A form of giant whiskered fish is among them. As big as a house, if the White could be believed."

  "So?"

  "In my youth I fished the great western rivers," Tull said. "These bottom fish contain large bladders filled with air. When the creatures die, they will float for a time. With one of them, we might make a raft. We could use fins and large bones as paddles."

  "All well and good," Elashi said, "but how are we to collect this monster fish?"

  "We have your swords and my knife," Tull said. "A sure stroke in a vulnerable spot would slay one."

  "And what is to draw one of these fish to a place where we could slay it?" she continued. "We have no bait."

  Conan and Tull glanced at each other, then back at Elashi. The two men grinned. Whatever else the desert woman was, she was not slow of wit. "Ha! You are both mad!"

  "The other choice is to stay here forever and face the worms, bats, Whites and cyclopes," Conan said, "not to mention the wizard and the witch."

  "Then one of you may act as bait!"

  Tull said, "I am the fisherman. I must watch for the signs of the creature."

  "And I am much better with my blade than are you w
ith yours," Conan said. "Do you think you could slay a fish as large as a house with that needle you carry?"

  "I will not do it," Elashi said. "You are both addled completely out of your feeble minds!"

  Tull sketched a picture of the fish in the wet sand near the water's edge. "You must drive your blade in here," he said, indicating a spot just behind the head. "Angled in thus, to sever the great nerve within the spine, here."

  Conan nodded.

  "The flesh is soft, as is the bone, but it will require a powerful stab, likely to the full depth of your blade."

  Conan nodded again.

  Tull stood and brushed the sand from his hands. "Farther along the shore, just there, is a likely spot. You see that spire of rock that juts out over the water?"

  "I see it."

  "If the lass swims in the deep water below it, you will be positioned to stab the fish as it passes underneath."

  Elashi grinned at this. "Ah, a shame. I would be willing to go along with this moon-mad plan, but alas, I cannot swim a stroke. Ask Conan, he knows. So much for your plan."'

  "No need to swim," Tull said. "You will dangle from the rock spire. We can cut that cloak into strips for a swing."

  "But―but―" she began.

  "So much for your objections," Conan said.

  It took less than an hour to make everything ready. Elashi hung from the spire, only her feet touching the surface below. Tull had her waving her legs back and forth, agitating the water. Above . her, Conan stood with his sword held in both hands, point held down. Tull watched the water in the distance.

  "If you allow a fish to eat me, I shall never forgive you, Conan. I will follow you around the Gray Lands for ten thousand years making you regret it, I swear."

  Conan considered that thought and found it as unpleasant as any he had ever, had. To be tormented by a woman's bitter tongue for eternity, aye, now there was a truly hellish thing. Surely Crom would not punish any man so?

  "Look there," Tull said. He pointed.

  Conan looked. A wide ripple seemed to be approaching them. "I see no fish."

  "But you see the water of its passage. It will have to come closer to the surface as it approaches. In a moment… ah, there!"

  Something thin and spined broke the surface.

  "Its dorsal fin!" Tull cried. "Make ready, lad!" To Elashi he said, "I'll pull you up when it gets close enough."

  "You had better!" Elashi said.

  "By Mitra, it's a big 'un," Tull said. "You could feed a whole village for an entire moon on it!"

  "Should not you pull me up now?"

  "A moment more. Conan?"

  "I am ready." The Cimmerian took a deep breath, allowed it to escape, and tightened his reverse grip on the sword's handle. Here it came, closer, it was getting closer and closer…

  "Up we go, lass!" Tull started tugging on the twin ropes of cloth holding Elashi. She came up half a span――then the strap on the left broke. The wet pop! of the cloth was joined by the woman's scream as she clutched the remaining support, nearly jerking Tull from his perch.

  "Mitra's ass!" Tull hollered. He began to pull Elashi upward again. Too slow. The fish would be there in another instant and―Elashi scrambled up the cloth strand like a monkey, continued past the end Tull held and clambered over him onto his back just as the fish reached the spot where she had dangled.

  Screaming a wordless sound, Conan leaped from the spire, landed wide-legged upon the back of the fish, and drove the point of his sword downward with all of his strength. His chest and stomach and shoulders contracted, his arms flexed with power, and the blue iron sank to the hilt in rubbery flesh. He even managed a grin. Why, this was simple.

  The fish thrashed, tossing the outlander from its back as a maddened horse would throw a legless rider. Conan hit the water and was battered by sudden waves. The fish's tail slapped the surface next to him as he came up, barely missing him, and the force of the thrashing tail sent the man tumbling through the water like a wood chip in a storm-swollen ditch.

  Despite the roiling water, the Cimmerian man aged to orient himself and start swimming for the shore. He attained the base of the spire and climbed rapidly, joining Elashi and Tull within a moment.

  Beneath the trio, the fish's struggles lessened. Conan's strike had been true. After a few moments the great breast stopped moving on its own. Slowly the dead fish rose to the surface, bobbing up on its side, water streaming downward from scales the size of platters.

  Conan grinned at Elashi. "Behold, our boat."

  Elashi wrinkled her nose. "It has a loathesome stench already. In a few days it will stink to the ends of the world."

  Conan and Tull looked at each other. Some people could find fault everywhere. Give them a chest of gold and they would complain of the weight they must carry.

  * * *

  Eight

  W-we h-h-have th-them!" Deek said. He and Wikkell had paused so that the worm could speak: moving and talking at the same time was all but impossible for Deek's kind.

  "How so? I see no one here but us."

  "Th-this t-t-tunnel l-leads to the S-s-sunless S-sea."

  "Ah." Even though Wikkell had spent very little time in this region of the vast Black Cave system, he could not help but know of the sprawling underground lake. "Then they are trapped."

  "S-s-so it w-w-would s-s-seem."

  "Then let us proceed apace. I feel certain that the two of us can capture and hold a mere three humans."

  "W-w-without a d-doubt," Deek agreed.

  There were limits to Rey's communication spell. Wikkell was either beyond the reach of the magic or dead, the latter being somewhat more unlikely. Still, either way boded ill for the wizard's plans. If the prey had managed to somehow elude the cyclops and move beyond Rey's range to speak to his servant, that was bad. If Wikkell were somehow indisposed and unable to answer Rey's call, that was also bad. Not for a moment did the magician consider that the cyclops might ignore his hail. So either of the two choices was unacceptable, and yet one of them must indeed be the case.

  Katamay Rey moved to a chest of assorted magical impedimenta and began to rummage through it. There was no help for it, then. He would have to gather supplies and a retinue and go find Wikkell, or the barbarian, or both.

  Damn. Why was it that anything of consequence always seemed to require his own hand? Did he have to do everything around this place?

  Chuntha's patience was ended. That slithering servant of hers was beyond her dreamcasting range, blast him! Who knew what evil might have befallen Deek? The man―the big, strong, handsome, virile man―might be escaping her clutches even as she lay upon her bed dreading the very thought.

  No. It would not do.

  She sighed. She supposed that she should have learned by now not to send a worm to do a witch's job. It had seemed so simple, to merely fetch the man to her―but no, by the Demon Sensha's Hairy Mound, some laughing fate wished to cheat her of her just due. Perhaps the wizard had a hand in it. An unpleasant thought.

  Chuntha raised her naked form from the sodden bed and moved to gather a collection of certain items of magical power. Very well. She had not always been a stay-at-home ruler. She would go and fetch the man herself. And if Deek lived and was whole, he would be made to suffer for her extra labors, too.

  The blind white thing responded to the Harskeel's questions, speaking in a tongue that sounded like a tortured monkey's wails. Fortunately, one of the Harskeel's men was familiar with a mountain dialect that was similar enough that some sense could be made of the creature's replies.

  "I am only interested in the one called 'Conan,' " the Harskeel said. "Ask it about him."

  The pikeman did so.

  A stream of babble came from the beast.

  "M'lord, he says there was a large man and that he and his brothers were sent to fetch him."

  "Ask it who sent it."

  More gratings upon the ear.

  "He says he works for the one-eyed monster, who in turn works for t
he wizard of the caves."

  The Harskeel shook its head. Treading on a wizard was bad business. There was no help for it, though.

  When they had obtained as much information as the Harskeel thought itself apt to get from the white thing, it drew its sword and snapped a quick but powerful cut at the creature's neck. Razor steel met flesh, and the startled cry died even as it was born. The severed head fell, trailing blood, and bounced along the cave floor.

  So much for that.

  Leading its remaining men, the Harskeel moved off.

  Using his sword and Tull's knife, Conan hewed several shallow compartments and numerous footsteps into the flesh of the dead fish. A pair of riblike bones, each fastened to portions of fin with strings cut from his former cape, made passable paddles with which to propel the once-living raft. He also cut some of the fish's flesh into small chunks for eating, though in truth the raw fish held little appeal to his or Elashi's appetite.

  "Here," Tull said. "Watch."

  With that, the ragged man clambered down from the fish's side―now the top of their raft―and splashed onto the nearest shore. After a moment he returned with a yellowish mushroom he had found at the base of the cave wall. Then he picked up a hand-sized slab of the cut fish and squeezed the fungus over it. Juice from the fungus fell upon the translucent fish, and as it did, the flesh became opaque.

  Conan's keen nose noted an acidic tang to the juice, and he remarked upon it.

  "Aye," Tull said. "The juice of this particular toadstool is harmless, but it 'cooks' the fish. In a few minutes it'll be like we roasted it in an oven."

  Conan was somewhat dubious as to the powers of toadstool liquid, but a taste of the fish when Tull indicated that it was "done" put an end to his doubts. The fish was delicious! Given that it was the first meal he and Elashi had enjoyed in some time, they ate with gluttonous relish, stuffing the fish down in great mouthfuls.

  Somewhat later, feeling sated, Conan said, "I suppose it would be too much to ask that another of these fungi along the wall would serve as wine?"

  Tull chuckled. "Would that it were so, lad, but nay. There is a kind of mushroom I've seen that gives visions when eaten, but it has a nasty flavor and is just as apt to make a man puke as dream."