The bodies of the freshly slain were cast upon the pyre, along with those of friend and enemy. Even a few beasts that had perished were tossed on. The sun was high in the east when the pyre was set alight. The arms of the slain warriors were thrown into the blaze, since they could not be buried together.
'Look,' said Rerin as the flames ascended into the clear sky. He pointed a gnarled finger straight upward. Far overhead a pair of magpies circled.
V
Wizard-Craft
Lilma,' said Totila ominously, 'you have failed.'
The wizard shrugged beneath his reindeer skins. 'It was not I who failed you, Totila, but the dead.'
'I ask little of the dead, wizard,' said the king, barely able to restrain his temper. 'From my wizard I expect results, not excuses. First you bring an unnatural cold upon us, costing me dear in livestock and thralls, then your army of dead men fails of its mission.' The two men sat in the hall arguing while the men all wound made merry, celebrating the passing of the unnatural spell of cold weather.
Lilma rose to his feet haughtily. 'If my lord has no further use for my services, perhaps another king may kc fit to engage me.'
The king turned conciliatory. 'Oh, sit down, Lilma. I spoke overhastily. We must devise a better plan, it is dour. It must be nothing that can devastate the whole countryside, though. Like it or not, a king lives by ploughs as well as by swords. I would not have thought it when I was merely a chieftain over a dozen men, but the loss of oxen can hurt a ruler as severely as the loss of fighting men., Even thralls have value.' He ran beringed fingers through his luxuriant, red-gold beard. 'How may we set this matter aright?'
'Master,' Lilma said, 'let me meditate upon this. There are mysteries I am privy to that might provide the answer for us. Certain powers commune with me. Let me summon them and take counsel with them. Have I your leave to go to my spirit-hut?'
'You have my leave,' said Totila graciously.
The men quieted as the wizard rattled from the hall, then fell once more to dicing and wrestling. King Totila himself sat brooding, from time to time running his fingers through the scalps of dead chieftains and champions.
At that same time Alcuina was taking counsel with her warriors and her wizard. 'What may we do to counter this threat from Totila? It is plain that he will destroy us all if we do not do something.'
'How many warriors has King Odoac?' Conan asked.
'Several hundred, if he calls them all up,' she answered. 'More than I have. Why do you ask?'
'Why not ally yourself with him? With your combined armies, you could destroy Totila. It would be of profit to you both.' He drained his tankard and held it out for more. Since the passing of the freakish cold Alcuina had lifted the rationing.
'I know well what the price for his alliance would be!' she said hotly. 'I'll not lie in that pig's bed for a score of kingdoms!'
'So much for that, then,' Conan muttered.
'I fear,' Rerin said, 'that his next attack will be
magical as well. After all, why should he risk his men when he has the evil Lilma to do his work for him?'
'Is there no way we can kill this wizard?' said Siggeir.
'Aye, I'm for that,' Conan said. 'Just tell me where to find this spell-caster, and I'll take care of him. He must sleep sometime. Ordinarily I'll not kill a man who has no chance to fight, but one who raises dead men to fight the living has no claim on any man's mercy or justice.'
Alcuina turned to her own wizard. 'What of it, Rerin? Could Conan steal upon Lilma and kill him? That is an order for murder I'd not hesitate to give.'
The old man shook his head. 'No wizard has wrought Lilma without seeing to his defences. He will be rounded with traps and warnings. Most especially, Acre are his magpie-familiars. They could be perched in the leaves, watching us even now.' Many heads jerked around, eyes wide with fear and searching the surround-g shadows. 'No, they or some other agency would warn him of an approaching killer, be the man ever so sneaky and crafty.'
'Crom take it!' Conan said, slamming down his hand. 'These are mortal men. There must be some way to deal with them.' But none there had an answer.
The wizard strode through the forests and across the land. Above him flew his magpies, spying out his land, their eyes bright and keen for the sight of enemies Lilma gave no notice to the cold or the snow, those of a normal winter. The pouch at his belt had a little food, which was all he needed.
To a magician, the needs of the flesh were the pettiest of concerns.
Ten years before, he had come to these strange lands, driven from his native Hyperborea by jealous rivals. He might have gone south, to the rich kingdoms he knew were there. He had communed with southern mages in his spirit-trances. But his magic, of which he was a matchless practitioner, was the magic of the snows and the forests. His was the magic of the North, the land of frost giants and fog giants, of the spirits that lived in stone and wood and water. To the south was the magic of other gods, equally ancient, and dominated by the serpent cult of Set. In those lands his power might not be great, and he was too old to learn a new art.
Thus, he had come to this land of squabbling kinglets arid chose one such to bend to his will. Totila was strong and fierce, but he was also crafty and saw no reason to use men and treasure when magic would do his work. He was the perfect instrument for Lilma's plans. The wizard would make Totila the greatest king of the North, and Lilma would in turn become the greatest of wizards. Lesser mages such as Rerin would be no stop to him, since they feared to traffic with the truly great powers.
On his third day of travel Lilma came to a dead heath. Such vegetation as it supported was stunted and withered, and it took strange shapes not pleasant to look upon. Lilma journeyed there two or three times each year to find plants that grew nowhere else in the North. Almost everything that grew there had powers and properties that were valuable to him. This time, however, he was not in search of magical plants.
As he progressed into the heath the plants grew fewer, until there were none at all. Here the ground was frozen and cracked, like a dried lake-bottom in the midst of a drought. In the centre of the wasteland towered a mound, curiously regular in shape and crowned with an encircling wail, much like those that dotted the plain where Alcuina had built her hall. Leaning upon his staff, Lilma trudged to the top of the mound.
From its crest he surveyed his surroundings. He could see the cracked plain he had crossed, but neither hills nor forests were visible in the distance. Only a wavering haze was to be seen. The laws of the ordinary world did not always apply to this demon-haunted place.
The wall was breached by a narrow doorway, and within the top of the mound was empty save for a beehive-shaped hut made of stones piled crudely, without mortar. Ordering his familiars to keep watch outside, Lilma ducked through the low doorway into the hut. The inside was dark and smelled of damp, and the wizard quickly kindled a fire from the bundle of sticks he had gathered on the way. As it blazed high the fire revealed a conical chamber with walls of rough stone and a floor of packed earth, nothing more.
Onto the fire Lilma cast small objects from his pouch: bones, feathers, clots of dried blood, and certain plants plucked from the withered heath. A thick smoke of many colours arose and gathered thickly in the chamber, for there was no smoke hole at its peak. For reasons peculiar to this place, no smoke found its way out through the door. Lilma breathed deep of the murky fumes. Rocking back and forth, he began to chant, occasionally stirring the embers of the fire with his staff. In time with his chant, Lilma shook a gourd rattle in a monotonous rhythm. Gradually he lost all sense of where he was. The hut and the smoke disappeared from his senses, and he entered the spirit world.
He was never sure at what point he would enter that strange realm. The spirit world and the world of men were not like nations, whose borders remain in the same juxtaposition. He had many times entered the spirit realm through this gate, and never had he twice entered the same place. This time he found himself sitting in t
he midst of a limitless plain, twilit, its sky beginning to display stars that were not those to be seen from the world of men. In the far distance he could just descry the hulking shapes of mountains, which seemed to move subtly, in a disturbing fashion. Sitting in the middle of this plain, Lilma continued to rattle and chant. The flames of his fire were still before him, but of the fuel and the smoke there was no sign.
From time to time strange creatures drew nigh him, their forms gaunt and hideous. Great, glowing eyes and long teeth shone in the dim light, and many-jointed fingers were tipped with claws. Bloodlust burned in their eyes, but none ventured within the circle of light cast by the little fire. In time they departed, at the approach of something far larger.
The thing that came to the wizard Lilma upon the darkling plain of the spirit world was evil to behold, bloated of body and with a face like that of a toad, if a toad's face were capable of expression and malice. Wart-like growths covered its leprous skin, which hung in loose folds about its repulsive body. It squatted before the wizard and waited with an air of intelligent expectation.
'What would you?' it asked in a hissing voice. The tongue it spoke was one known only to wizards and demons.
'I have an enemy,' Lilma said, 'and I desire that my king should have a certain woman. It is my desire
that you attend to my enemy and procure this woman that I may present her to the king.'
'The woman is a queen?' the thing hissed.
'Yes, but you may not have her! You must deliver her to me at this place, alive and unharmed. I invoke the pact we made many years ago.'
The thing glared at him with hideous amusement, then said, 'I abide by the pact. Now, show me.'
Lima's flames flattened and spread into a broad whorl, like his forest pool. Pictures began to take form. First dry were looking down through a bird's eye upon -ma's garth, the hall looking tiny within its surrounding wall in the midst of the plain dotted with its aims and stone circles.
'She wrought foolishly in her choice of a dwelling.' said the demon with obscene glee. 'For many times in the gyre we have felt strange vibrations emanating from our point of contact with that place.' The flames swirled again, and then the form of Alcuina The queen of the Cambres sat in her her robe pooled around her hips, baring the perfection of her upper body, a handmaiden her luxuriant hair. The red-gold tresses fanned over her shapely, white shoulders. The queen pensive, but what thoughts lay behind her level a mystery. She spoke, but they heard it is fair, as men judge such things,' Lilma's flames brought forth the image of Rerin The old man stood upon the walk that ran 'This is my enemy. He is a wizard, but his skill is small compared to mine, and he has no pact with you.'
'A trivial business,' the demon said in boredom. Then another man joined the wizard, a tall, powerfully-built man, with flowing black hair. 'Who is this?'
'That is Alcuina's new champion,' Lilma said. 'A mere adventurer, and of no consequence.'
The demon looked upon Lilma with a smile so terrible that even the hardened wizard was frightened for a moment. It pointed toward the Cimmerian with a taloned finger. 'This one has the aura of destiny about him.'
Lilma looked, but could see nothing. He shrugged. 'Many are born to destiny, yet die before they have any chance to fulfil it.'
In the image that floated before me, the wizard looked up, seeming to stare straight at them. He pointed a finger toward them, and the black-haired man followed the gesture. The warrior snatched a spear from its place against the palisade and cast it upward. The weapon seemed to soar straight at Lilma, then the vantage-point shifted and they lost sight of the two.
Lilma smiled frostily. 'The foolish Rerin has learned to keep watch for my familiars.'
'We shall take them,' the demon said. 'The queen, the wizard, and the warrior.'
'The wizard you must kill,' Lilma said. 'The warrior'—he made a dismissive gesture with his hand— 'you may do with as you like. But the queen you must deliver to me unharmed. Her mind, of course, may be slightly damaged by the experiences she shall undergo, but my king is interested primarily in her body, her pedigree, and her ability to produce strong heirs.'
'None of those things shall be damaged,' the demon promised. 'This shall take time to arrange. I shall contact you in the spirit-trance when I have her for you. At that time you must come to the place whence you came here and perform as you have this day. Then shall I deliver her to you, in accordance with the pact between us.'
'Be it so,' said Lilma.
At his gesture the flames were extinguished, and he found himself once more within the beehive-shaped hut of stone. Before him lay the cold ashes of his fire, and outside he could hear the cawing of two magpies.
Conan stood at his guard-post, brooding over the Bony plain. He did not like this place. He liked his companions well enough, and he could not fault Alcuina is an employer, but the ancient stone lines and circles depressed his spirits. The massive posts with their stone feels could never have been the work of men, he was e. The stones were too great to lift by any means he could imagine. They squatted in brutish silence, and he as sure they were haunted by the spirits of the build-as. The old man Rerin agreed with him in this, but .Me in inn insisted that they needed the wall while they ere in so weakened a condition, with so many enemies all about.
The snow fell gently, but Conan, perched above the rock. He had a small shelter built to protect the man and had no sides to restrict his vision, but a thatched roof fought off the worst of the snow or rain.
Spinning at the sound of someone ascending the road, he wondered which of his friends, sleepless was coming up to while away an hour in tale. Great was his surprise to see Alcuina herself.
'Good evening, my lady,' he said, sheathing his sword.
'You are a nervous man to draw your weapon even at one coming from within the garth,' she said.
'I have not arrived at my present age by assuming a man was my friend merely from the direction of his approach. What's more, many an officer has given me extra duty for not challenging him while on guard, even though I knew him as my own commander. It was a lesson I was slow to learn, but it may be the only sensible one the southern armies use.'
'It is rare that I even find one of my sentries awake when I come upon them this late. How do your southern officers deal with sleeping sentries?'
'It depends. Some hang them. Others are content with a mere flogging. I would not recommend that you employ such means. Northern warriors are not like southern soldiers.'
'I could not sleep tonight,' Alcuina said. She stood by Conan and leaned upon the palisade, looking out over the vista that so disturbed the Cimmerian. 'I went to Rerin's hut, but he is abed. You are the only other one wakeful in the garth.'
'What disturbs your sleep?' Conan asked, not without a gentle malice. 'The feast was a good one, I saw that you put away your share of the ale, the snores within are no louder than usual, the livestock are back in their sheds, and no dead men have come calling—'
'Do not mock me!' She turned on him. 'I feel uneasy tonight.' She looked back out over the plain. 'I feel that something out there is stirring. I know now that this is not a good place for us to live. I should have trusted to a timber wall such as we always used.'
'Too late to be worrying about that,' Conan said
uneasily. He did not like this talk of things stirring in the outer darkness. The fight with the dead had been bad enough. Now that it was past, he hoped there would be no more supernatural doings. An open sally by Totila was what he wanted. He had no unease about an honest fight with real men and real weapons, no matter how bad the odds. 'We must make the best of it here until spring. Let me take some men into the hills, then I'll find you a good defensive position in the upland.'
'Spring may be too late.' Alcuina shivered, but not from the cold. 'Perhaps I'll be forced into alliance with Odoac after all.'
It occurred to Conan that her sleeplessness might be occasioned by lack of suitable male companionship. Surely she would not be
out in the middle of a winter night talking with Siggeir or any of the other men who, Conan complacently realised, did not share in his abundance of the qualities women find attractive in a man. Be was about to test this thought when he was inter-aped by the arrival of Rerin. The old man came pacing up the ladder just as Conan had stepped closer to the queen.
'I had thought you abed,' said Alcuina as she stepped away from Conan.
'As did I,' said Conan sourly.
'An evil dream woke me,' Rerin said. 'I doubt not he is up to some mischief. I came to find whether you had seen aught. I did not expect to find you in what has become a popular gathering place,'
'For one thing,' Rerin said impatiently, 'we've not seen his magpies in many days, young man. Does that not make you suspicious?'
Conan shook his head. 'The less I see of wizards,' he said pointedly, 'the happier I am. The same goes for their familiars. I have seen worse creatures than magpies lurking about magic-mongers, but these birds are bad enough.'
'I felt it too, Rerin,' said Alcuina, ignoring Conan. 'Strange shapes move through my sleeping hours.'
'Speaking of which,' Conan broke in, 'I wonder where my relief is? I feel the need of a few sleeping hours, with or without strange shapes.' .
'Come, Rerin,' Alcuina said disgustedly, 'let us retire to my bower where we may confer without annoying this great warrior.' The two descended the ladder and left Conan, arms folded, and sunk in gloom.
After all, he thought, brooding, there were plenty of other women hereabout. Because of the recent increase in mortality, there was a large supply of grieving widows, many who had let him know in no uncertain terms how desperately they were in need of consoling. He had yielded to some of their blandishments, but it was Alcuina who intrigued him.
Small though her kingdom was, she ruled it well, with the good of her people in mind. That was a rare thing in Conan's experience. Her warriors were intensely loyal to her, even though she was not a war-chieftain, and that was even rarer. More to the point, he found her beautiful, and he was frustrated by her seeming indifference to him. Certainly a queen could have no intention of permanent attachment to a penniless adventurer, but surely she owed herself a little pleasurable dalliance. And who better to dally with than Conan? It was hard on a warrior's pride.
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