She had expected a courtyard inside the gate, but instead they had ridden into a gigantic room illumined only by narrow windows high on the walls. Her entire garth would have fitted into the room.
Sarissa led her up a stairway and through a wide door. The door was flanked by crouching, sculpted figures that bore the lintel of the doorway upon their tortured backs. The whole massive, gloomy aspect of the building was oppressive and daunting.
Taking her hand, Sarissa led Alcuina through mosaic-decorated halls and sumptuously furnished chambers until they came to a door of richly-carved wood, which opened for them without human or even dwarfish aid.
Sarissa entered and began to strip off her colorful, leather garments. "Come, the bath is this way."
She led Alcuina into a room full of thin, fragrant steam with a pool in its center. The room, indeed the entire castle, felt warm despite the apparent absence of fires.
Sarissa had now removed her outer garments, and Alcuina saw that, in spite of her facial resemblance to her brother and the others, Sarissa was indeed a woman. Decidedly so. She now wore only a harnesslike arrangement of straps, buckles, and rings, to which her outer clothing had been attached. It covered nothing but instead framed and emphasized all her feminine attri-butes. Her body was so voluptuous that Alcuina felt like an adolescent girl beside her.
"Remove those rags, my dear," Sarissa said, beginning to peel the rags from Alcuina's trembling body. "You shall feel far better after a bath."
Hesitantly Alcuina complied. She was a little apprehensive of the pool. In her home, bathing had been accomplished in a sweat-room, with hot stones, buckets of water, and a stiff brush. Bathing with another woman did not bother her, since all the free women of the garth had bathed together, but actually submerging herself in die water was a decidedly outlandish idea.
Sarissa freed a few buckles and her harness dropped to the floor, to join the remains of Alcuina's clothing. For a moment she stood, pridefully naked, so challenging in her flaunted womanhood that Alcuina wanted to draw herself up in reply, yet a strange timidity filled her. To her surprise she found herself childishly stretching out a trembling hand. With a cruel smile Sarissa took the proffered hand possessively and drew Alcuina down a series of small steps into the water. As the warm water rose up her legs, it leached the sting from Aicuina's many small injuries. A languorous feeling of well-being re-placed the alien sensations. She had never felt anything so pleasurable. Sarissa seated her on a stone ledge so that the water was just below the level of her chin.
Sarissa clapped her hands, and such was Alcuina's state of lazy contentment that she was not disturbed when several men and women, clad only in silken loincloths, entered bearing trays of gold and silver. As one of the men crouched by her to proffer a goblet of red wine she noticed that he wore a wide collar of plain iron, such as some northern peoples put upon their bondsmen.
"Are these thralls?" Alcuina asked dreamily.
"Slaves," Sarissa confirmed. "Toys, existing for our convenience and pleasure."
Alcuina saw a lovely girl whose back was covered with the red weals of a recent lashing. She pointed to the girl. "Are they often rebellious?"
Sarissa shrugged. "Perhaps. Or perhaps someone desired the pleasure of giving her a good flogging." She sipped at her own wine. "I may have done it myself, but I do not recall it."
At another time Alcuina might have been horrified at this statement, but just now she was curiously unable to feel anything except an idle interest. She raised a pale, shapely leg, hardly aware of the other's smiling, watching, and examined it. The welts left by the carnivorous plant were quickly fading to faint pink marks. Soon they would be gone entirely. She ate from the proffered trays of sweetmeats until the edge was taken from her ravenous appetite, and soon the whole world took on a sort of rosy, restful glow.
The two women left the bath and were dried by slaves with thick, soft towels. Never had Alcuina dreamed of such luxury. This seemed to be the correct way for a queen to live. She wondered how she had lived for so long without this. Still nude, they returned to the outer chamber, which was Sarissa's sleeping-place. The bed it contained was larger than the bower that Alcuina shared with her maids at home. "Now, we must have you properly attired," Sarissa said.
She fired off words Alcuina could not understand, and the slaves began to open chests and bring forth scarves and jewels and cosmetics.
Under Sarissa's direction, Alcuina was adorned and painted, her nails lacquered and her lips stained red.
She was draped with necklaces and bracelets and anklets and waist-chains of gold studded with gemstones, far more delicate and subtle in design than the massive northern jewelry she was used to.
"Now, look at yourself, my dear." Sarissa, still naked, took her to a tall glass.
Alcuina's eyes widened at the transformation wrought in her appearance.
She was richly draped with precious metals and stones, and her face was subtly painted to highlight her great beauty. Something seemed to be missing, though. In an abstracted fashion she realized that, except for waist-chains and a large, glowing red jewel in her navel, her body was still entirely bare. Every bit of the jewelry seemed designed and placed to frame her full breasts and rounded buttocks, to emphasize the curves of thighs and hips. She appeared more naked than if completely unclothed, and every inch of her was flaunted brazenly.
"Perhaps," Alcuina said hesitantly, "some garments now?"
"Not necessary," Sarissa said. "Just one more item."
She took something from a slave and fastened it wound Alcuina's neck. So slow had Alcuina's reactions become that it was some time before her eyes widened horror at the broad iron collar that had been clamped wad her slender white neck.
"My new toy," Sarissa purred.
Seoea
Oie Bell-Scorpion
*ft
Dow can you be sure of your direction in this accursed place?" demanded Conan. He and the old man had been wandering through the Shifting Land for three days, and its bewildering changes of terrain had the Cimmerian utterly baffled.
"The first lesson in this place," Rerin said, "is never to trust the evidence of your senses. Here the voices of the trees and the animals tell me where we are and where we must go."
"I would not trust these trees to tell me my name, even if I could understand their speech!" Idly he lopped a branch from a nearby tree with his sword. "Trees that eat people should not be trusted."
Rerin laughed: a rare thing for him. "Is it so strange that plants should eat men? After all, in the world we come from, men eat plants. Why should the green things not enjoy a turnabout here?"
"It is not natural," Conan maintained. "Man-eating animals I can put up with. I have even encountered
cannibals, but plants should stay rooted properly in the earth, not go about in search of prey." They had spent wakeful nights avoiding the alarming flora of the Shifting Land.
"The beasts here can be worse," Rerin said. "I am surprised that we have encountered so few."
Conan's stomach growled. "I wish we would encounter one soon. I have neither spear nor bow, but I am hungry enough to chase down a deer with nothing but my sword."
In the mild climate Conan had removed all but his wolfskin tunic and leggings. The rest of his clothing and armor was bundled in his cloak and tied across his back. Sword and dagger were belted at his waist.
They were headed toward sunset, whatever that might mean in this place. They were crossing a deep cleft in a mountainside with a stream at its bottom. This stream flowed uphill, as did some others they had seen. Others flowed downhill, and they had even encountered one that had an uphill current on one side and a downhill current on the other. Conan had been in many strange places in his life, but this was the oddest of them all.
"Be still!" Rerin hissed.
Conan did as he was bidden. He listened hard, and soon heard a rumbling, slithering sound. His eye caught a hint of movement upon the ridgeiine they had just crossed. He th
ought he could make out something like a scaly back, sliding just above the crest of land. The bulk of the thing was below the crest, but from what he could see it looked as if half a league of the thing was going by.
"Crom!" he said when the thing was out of sight. "What was that? It looked like the grandfather of all serpents."
Rerin shook his head. "I know not, but I do not think it is native to the Shifting Land. What called it hither I dread even to contemplate."
"Just as well we got into this valley when we did," Conan said. "If we had been slower crossing the ridge, it might have seen us. If it has eyes, at any rate. If there are more like that hereabout, we may be in for trouble."
"May be?" said Rerin. "We have been in mortal peril since we crossed from the world of men."
With a slight rustling noise, an animal emerged from a clump of bushes. It was piglike, with a snout for rooting, and small, hoofed feet. For a moment it stood and squinted at them nearsightedly, its nostrils quivering at their strange smell. In that moment Conan grabbed up a jagged rock and threw it, all in one motion, almost too swift to see. The stone struck the beast between the eyes with a loud crunch, and it fell over on its side, stone dead.
Conan grinned. "There's our dinner!" He drew his knife and advanced on the dead creature.
"You are as handy with a rock as with a sword," Rerin observed.
Conan began butchering the carcass. "Cimmerian lads are expected to find much of their own food after they have learned to walk. I've spent many a night on a cold mountainside watching over the clan's cattle on short rations. Woe to the rabbit or mountain goat that came within range of my throwing-arm during those lean days. I am even better with a sling, but a simple stone will do."
"So I see. I shall build us a fire, though I fear to attract attention."
"I would rather die fighting than starve," Conan
said. "In any case, I would like to speak with the inhabitants of this land, so let them come."
Soon the joints of the "pig" were sizzling and smoking on spits over the flames. As the meat was lightly cooked Conan carved away chunks and stuffed them into his mouth, thrusting the joints back over the flames to cook some more. Rerin ate somewhat less ravenously, but he managed to put away a goodly portion of the meat as well. From time to time Conan took up his sword and hacked at a hairy root that kept creeping toward them from the nearest tree line.
"It may come from this demon land," Conan said, waving a rib, "but it tastes as good as any wild boar I have eaten in the world of men."
"Pray we find other things as agreeable," Rerin said gloomily.
"Cheer up, wizard. We are alive, we are free, and we are on the track of the lady to whom we both owe allegiance. There are worse things than that." He picked np a large rock, one of a pile he had gathered by them, and threw it. It crushed a small bush he did nqt like the took of. "We could be dead," he went on, "or in chains."
"I envy your ability to be calm in the midst of the nknown, young man."
Conan shrugged. "I have never found any advantage in worrying about things before they happen. If danger teeatens, I can fight it or run from it, but until it is before me there is little I can do about it. Does that not make sense?"
Rerin sighed. "Of a sort." He stared into the flames, and his expression went blank. Conan knew that this meant the old man was in one of his trances, so the
Cimmerian applied himself to his eating until Rerin should come out of it.
After several minutes Rerin blinked and was once more aware of his surroundings.
"Well?" said Conan eagerly, "did you learn aught of Alcuina?"
"She is in some manner of danger, but it is not mortal peril, as if something were about to slay her."
"Eh? What do you mean? Either she is in danger or she is not."
"It was not clear to me. From what could learn, she has escaped from her captors, and they search for her. She has fallen in with others, and these mean her no less harm."
"That does not surprise me," Conan said, "in this place. Do you know yet where she is?"
"There was a veil between me and her whereabouts, and fear that she has fallen in with magic-practitioners of no mean order. However, before I was cut off from her I saw a great building, like a castle. I think she is in that place."
"A castle," Conan mused. "I have dealt with castles before, and border forts, strong-houses, temple treasur-ies, and the like. Any strong place made by men may be broken into, and its treasures despoiled."
"You speak as if from much experience," Rerin said. "However, I fear that this place may not have been made by men."
"That is bad, as is your talk of magic-practitioners. But, we can only do our best." He tossed a bone over his shoulder into the dark beyond. They could hear something pounce upon it. Conan lay down with his head pillowed on his cuirass and drew his wolfskin cloak over him. "You take first watch. Keep the plants at a distance." He placed his hand upon his sword hilt and was soon snoring peacefully.
Rerin closed his eyes and raised his palms in a gesture of prayer. "Father Ymir, for all mankind I am grateful that you did not make many like him, but on behalf of Alcuina and myself, I thank you for sending him to us when you did."
In a high tower of the great castle, in a chamber filled with strange instruments and the sounds and smells of stranger beasts, Hasta stood over a brazier, inhaling the fumes from blossoms that blackened and crisped upon the coals. His silver eyes revealed nothing, but his body twitched spasmodically, and the mirror he faced revealed not his reflection but a writhing nest of multicolored smokes. Inhuman sounds emerged from his lips in a mumbling stream.
Behind him a door opened quietly, and Sarissa entered. Now she wore a caped robe of sheerest material, which molded itself to breasts and buttocks and thighs, concealing nothing and enhancing everything. She waited quietly, not daring to disturb her brother in the midst of his trance. There were limits to her power, but none to the painful and humiliating ways he could express his displeasure.
Below in her chamber she had at last tired of her new toy, who was now sobbing and exhausted, and had become aware that some important spell was being cast within the castle. As earthly beings know instantly the sound of a loved one's voice, so Sarissa recognized the vibrations of her brother's spell-casting and decided to go investigate. Her people's abiding burden was boredom, and they spent much of their time in search of new diversion. She knew that this spell her brother was
%
Rerin and Conan were in an open field, tramping toward far mountains, when they were struck by a dizzying sense of disorientation. It was like a combination of taking a long fall and standing in an earthquake. Yet, when it passed, they were standing as they had been and the nearby trees did not sway. It was not the first time they had experienced this sensation, which was commonplace in the Shifting Land.
"What's changed now?" Conan asked irritably. "Anything in our path?"
"I fear so." Rerin pointed to a deep cleft that had appeared in a hillside before them. In the cleft was the entrance to a great cavern. It looked like a feature of the landscape that had been there forever, yet it had not been there a few minutes before.
"I do not like this," Conan said. He opened his bundle and buckled on his cuirass. Clapping on his helmet, he fastened its chin strap. "Let's skirt that cave at a good distance," he advised. "It has the aspect of a demon-haunt."
"I agree," Rerin said. "It has appeared too conveniently before us, and I fear some hostile power has taken an interest in us."
They edged away from the ominous cave mouth, keeping a wary eye on it. They were just past it and beginning to relax when the attack came. With an inarticulate cry, Rerin grasped Conan's shoulder and pointed. From the mouth of the cave a thing of pure nightmare was emerging.
"Crom!" Conan said in a choked voice.
The creature was the size of an elephant, and it stood upon innumerable, jointed legs. It was covered with a horny carapace and bore before it a pair of huge pin
cers
on massive arms. From its rear protruded what appeared to be a cluster of snakes, arching high over its back. Between the pincer-tipped "arms" was a tiny head bearing two antennae, which waved about as if under their own volition.
The two men stood absolutely still, knowing that the slightest movement or sound might give away their position. Whatever unearthly senses the monster might possess, ordinary vision did not seem to be among them. For several heartbeats the situation remained static, then the antennae ceased their random motion and pointed straight at them. Slowly, the thing began to creep in their direction.
"I think," Rerin said in a most unwizardly and strangled voice, "that it is time to run." He proceeded to do exactly that, and any watcher would have been amazed to see how his skinny old legs kept him ahead of the fast-leaping Cimmerian.
Conan ran for his life, but he heard hideous sounds growing closer behind him. Surely the ungainly thing could not run as fast as a Cimmerian mountaineer? He looked back over his shoulder and saw to his horror that the monster was scuttling after them on its multiple legs, faster than any man could run.
With the instantaneous decision that so characterized him, Conan halted in midstride, whirled about, and drew his sword. It was not that he thought he stood a chance against so formidable a creature, but that any slight chance he might have would not be improved by further, tiring flight. He could just hear the old man's pattering footsteps receding into the distance, then he had no attention to spare for anything but his immediate concern.
The monster bulked huge as it bore down upon him.
As always, the part of Conan's mind that controlled his fighting worked with lightning speed, cataloguing the thing's strengths and weaknesses.
There were alarmingly few of the latter. Its armored body looked as invulnerable as the walls of a strong castle. Its tiny head with the crucial antennae might be attacked, but it was wedged between the powerful arms, and to attack it meant coming within reach of the pincers. The snakelike multiple tails were as yet an unknown quantity. All this went through his mind between grasping his hilt and the moment when his sword point cleared the sheath. That left the legs, which were relatively spindly. Having made all the calculations that might do him any good, Conan charged.
The Conan Compendium Page 469