Trocero's eyebrows rose. 'Aha! then that explains-'
'Later,' said Conan. And nodding to the prisoner, he continued his inspection.
As the level shafts of the morning sun inflamed the clouds that lingered in the eastern sky, Conan's baggage train and rear guard lumbered across the Alimane; and soon thereafter the Army of Liberation began its march across Poitain to Culario and thence towards great Tarantia and the palace of its kings. To tread the soil of Aquilonia after so many months of scaling crags in a lost and hostile land heartened the rebel warriors. Bone-weary as they were after a night of slaughter, they bellowed a marching song as they threaded their way north among the towering Poitanian oaks.
Ahead, swifter than the wind, flew the glad tidings: The Liberator comes! From farm and hamlet to town and city, it winged its way-a mere whisper at first, but swelling as it went into a mighty shout-a cry that monarchs dread, presaging as it does the toppling of a throne or the downfall of a dynasty.
Conan and his officers, pacing the van on fine horseflesh, I were jubilant. The progress through Count Trocero's demesne would be, as it were, on eagles' wings. The nearest royalist forces, unapprised of their arrival, lay several hundred leagues ;way. And since Amulius Procas was in his grave, they had no enemy to fear until they reached the very gates of fair Tarantia. There they would find the city portals locked and barred against them, this they knew; and the Black Dragons, I he monarch's household guard, in harness to defend their king and capital. But because the people stood behind them and a throne lay before, they would hack down all defences and trample every foe.
In this the rebels were mistaken. One foe remained of whom they knew but little. This was the sorcerer Thulandra Thuu.
In his purple-pendant oratory, lighted by corpse-tallow candles, Thulandra Thuu brooded on his sable throne. He stared into his obsidian mirror, seeking by sheer intensity of purpose to wrest from the opaque pane bright visions of persons and events in distant places. At length with a small sigh, he settled back and rested his tired eyes. Then, frowning, he once again studied the sheet of parchment on which, in his spidery hand, were inscribed the astrological aspects lie deemed conducive to communication by this occult means. He peered at the gilded crystal water clock and found no error of day or hour to explain his unsuccess. Whatever the cause, Alcina had failed to commune with him at the appointed time, now and for many days gone by.
A knock disturbed his melancholy meditation. 'Enter I' said Thulandra Thuu through lips livid with frustration.
The drapery parted, and Hsiao stood on the marble threshold. Bowing, the Khitan intoned in his quavering voice: 'Master, the Lady Alcina would confer with you.'
'Alcina!' The sharpness of the sorcerer's tone betrayed his agitation. 'Show her in at once!'
The hangings fell together silently, then parted once again. Alcina staggered in. Her page's garb, tattered and torn, was grey with dust and caked with sun-dried mud. Her black hair formed a tangled web around a face stiff with apprehension. She dragged weary feet, scarce able to support her drooping frame. The beautiful girl, who had gallantly set off for Messantia, now seemed a worn woman in the winter of her years.
'Alcina!' cried the wizard. 'Whence come you? What brings you here?'
In a scarcely audible whisper, she replied: 'Master, may I sit? I am fordone.'
'Be seated, then.' As Alcina sank down upon a marble bench and closed her eyes, Thulandra Thuu projected his sibilant voice across the echoing chamber: 'Hsiao! Wine for Mistress Alcina. Now, good wench, relate all that has befallen you.'
The girl drew a sobbing breath. 'I have been eight days on the road, scarce halting to snatch a cat nap and a bite to eat.'
'Ah, so! And wherefore?'
'I came to say - to tell you - that Amulius Procas is dead -' 'Good!' said Thulandra Thuu, pin-wheels of light dancing in his hooded eyes, '-but Conan lives!'
At this astounding information, the sorcerer for the second ; time that day lost his composure. 'Set and Kali!' he cried. 'How did that happen? Out with it, girl; out with it!'
Before answering, Alcina paused to sip from the cup of I saffron wine that Hsiao handed her. Then, haltingly, she recounted her adventures in the camp of the Border Legion -how she stabbed Procas; how she learned that Conan lived; and how she escaped the guard.
'And so,' she concluded, 'fearing that you knew not of the barbarian's miraculous survival, I deemed it my duty to report to you forthwith.'
Brows drawn in a ferocious frown, the sorcerer contemplated Alcina with his hypnotic gaze. Then he purred with the controlled rage of an angry feline: 'Instead of undertaking this weary journey, why did you not withdraw a prudent distance from the Legion's camp, and commune with
me at the appropriate hour by means of your fragment of yonder mirror?'
'I could not, Master.' Alcina wrung her hands distractedly.
'Wherefore not?' Thulandra Thuu's voice suddenly jabbed like a thrown knife. 'Have you mislaid the table of positions f the planets, with which I did supply you?'
'Nay, my lord; it's worse than that. I lost my fragment
if the mirror-I lost my talisman!'
Lips drawn back in a snarl, Thulandra uttered an ophidian hliiss. 'By Nergal's demons!' he grated. 'You little fool! What
devil of carelessness possessed you? Are you mad? Or did you set your silly heart on some lusty lout, like unto a she-rat in heat? For this I will punish you in ways unknown lo mortal men! I will not only flog your body but flay your very soul! You shall live the pains of all your previous lives, from the first bit of protoplasmal slime up through the worm, the fish, and the ape! You shall beg me for death, but-'
'Pray, Master, do but listen!' cried Alcina, falling to her knees. 'You know men's lusts mean naught to me, save as I rouse them in your service.' Weeping, she told of the death struggle in the dark with Amulius Procas and of her later discovery of the loss of the talisman.
Thulandra Thuu bit his lip to master his rising wrath. 'I see,' he said at length. 'But when striking for great prizes, one cannot afford mistakes. Had your dagger travelled true, Procas would not have lingered long enough to seize your amulet.'
'I knew not that he wore a shirt of mail beneath his tunic. Can you not cut another fragment from the master mirror?'
'I could, but the enchantment of the fragment for transmitting distant messages is such a tedious process that the war were over ere it was completed.' Thulandra Thuu stroked his sharp chin. 'Did you make certain of Procas's death?'
Yes. I felt his pulse and listened for his heart beat.'
'Aye. But you did not so with the Cimmerian! That was the greater error.'
Alcina made a gesture of despair. 'I served him with sufficient poison to have slain two ordinary men; but betwixt
his great size and the unnatural vitality that propelled hi . . .' She drooped abjectly at her master's feet and let her' voice trail off.
Thulandra Thuu rose; and towering above the trembling girl, pointed a skinny forefinger towards heaven. 'Father Set, can none of my servants carry out my simplest demand?' Then, turning his sudden anger on the huddled girl, he added: 'Little idiot, would you feed a boar-hound on a lap-dog's rations?'
'Master, you warned me not, and who am I to calculate the grains of lotus venom needed for a giant?' Alcina's voice rose and fury rode upon it. 'You sit in comfort in your palace, whilst this poor servant courses the countryside in good and evil weather, risking her skin to do your desperate deeds. And not a kindly word have you to offer her!'
Thulandra Thuu spread his arms wide, palms upturned in a gesture of forgiveness. 'Now, now, my dear Alcina, let us speak no ill of one another. When allies part, the enemy wins the battle by default. If I ask you to poison another of my foes, I'll send along a clerk skilled in reckoning to calculate the dose.'
He seated himself with a thin and rueful smile. Truly, the gods must laugh like fiends at the irony of it. Having sent Amulius Procas to whatever nether world the Fates decreed, I earnes
tly wish that the old ruffian were alive again; for on none but him can I rely to defeat the barbarian and his rebel following.
'I thought that Ascalante and Gromel could together thwart the insurgents' efforts to cross the Alimane; and so they could have, were not Conan in command. Now I must find an abler general for the Border Legion. This needs some thinking on. Count Ulric of Raman has the Army of the North in Gunderland, watching the Cimmerians. An able commander, he; but the moon must wax and wane ere he receives an order and rides the length of Aquilonia. Prince Numitor lies closer on the Pictish frontier, but-'
Hsiao's tactful knock echoed like a tiny brazen bell. Entering, he said: 'A pigeon-borne dispatch from Messantia,
master, newly received by Vibius Latro.' Bowing, he handed the small scroll to the wizard.
Thulandra Thuu rose and held the scroll close to one of lie huge candles, and reading, pressed his lips together until his mouth became a thin slit in his dusky face. At last he said;
Well, Mistress Alcina, it seems the gods of my far distant island are careless of the welfare of their favoured child.'
What has befallen now?' asked Alcina, rising to her feet.
'Prince Cassio, quoth Fadius, has sent a messenger from the Rabirian Mountains back to his sire in Messantia. Conan, it seems, fully recovered from an illness that struck him down, has crossed the Alimane and, with the aid of Poitanian lords and peasants, has utterly destroyed the Border Legion. Senior Captain Gromel and his men have deserted to the rebels; Ascalante may have fled, for neither he nor his exanimate body can be found.'
The wizard crumpled the missive and glared at Alcina; and the eyes he fixed upon her burned red with a rage such as she had never seen in any living eyes. He snarled: 'Betimes you tempt me, wench, to snuff out your miserable life, as a man extinguishes a lighted candle. I have a silent spell that turns mine enemy into a petty pile of ashes, with never a flame nor a plume of smoke — '
Alcina shrank away and crossed her arms upon her breast, but there was no escape from the sorcerer's hypnotic stare. Her body burned as from the licking tongues of flame that lapped the open door of a furnace. The magical emanations pierced her inmost being, and she closed her eyes as if to shut out the cruel radiations. When she opened them once more, she threw up her hands to ward off a blow and shrieked hysterically.
Where the sorcerer had stood, now reared a monstrous serpent. From its upraised head, swaying on a level with her own, slit-pupilled eyes poured maleficent rays into her soul, while a reptilian stench inflamed her nostrils. The scaly jaws gaped wide, revealing a pair of dagger-pointed fangs as the great head lunged towards her. Flinching, she blinked again;
and when she ventured to open her eyes, it was Thulandra Thuu who stood before her.
With a crooked smile on his narrow face, the wizard said: 'Fear not, girl; I do not wantonly blunt my tools whilst they still possess a cutting edge.'
Still shuddering, Alcina recovered herself enough to ask: 'Did-did you in truth take the form of a serpent, Master, or did you but cast an image of reality upon me?'
Thulandra Thuu evaded her question. 'I did but remind you which of us is master here and which apprentice.'
Alcina was content to change the subject. Pointing to the crumpled parchment, she asked: 'How came Fadius by Prince Cassio's information?'
'Milo of Argos declared a public celebration, and the reason was no secret. It is plain which side the old fool favours. And one item more: Milo ordered that clodpate Quesado banished from his kingdom, and our would-be diplomat was last seen travelling with an escort of Milo's household guard along the road to Aquilonia. I shall urge Vibius Latro to set the fellow working as a collector of offal; he is good for nothing, else.
'And now, perhaps, our meddlesome mad king will leave affairs of state to me and confine himself to his besotted pleasures. I must ponder my next move in this board game with Fate, wherein a kingdom is the prise. And so, Alcina, you have my leave to go. Hsiao will provide you with food, drink, a much-needed bath, and woman's raiment.'
The league-long glittering river that was the Army of Liberation wound around tree-crowned hills, past fields and steads, and up to the gates of Culario. Conan, in the lead, reined in his black stallion at the sight of the gaping opening. From the gate towers flapped flags bearing the crimson leopards of Poitain; but the black heraldic eagle of Aquilonia was nowhere to be seen. Inside the city walls people lined both sides of the narrow street. In Conan's agile mind stirred the barbarian's suspicion of the trickery of civilised men. Turning to Trocero, who rode a white gelding at his
Me, Conan muttered: 'You're certain it's not a royalist trap they've set for us?'
'My head on it I' replied the count fervently. 'I know my people well.'
Conan studied the scene before him and rasped: 'Me thinks I'd best not look too much the conqueror. Wail : little.'
He unbuckled the chin strap of his helmet, pulled off the licadpiece, and hung it on the pommel of his .saddle. Then he dismounted with a clank of armour and strode towards the gate on foot, leading his horse.
Thus Conan the Liberator entered unpretentiously into Culario, nodding gravely to the citizens ranked on either side. Petals of fragrant flowers showered upon him; cheers resounded down the winding corridor. Following him on horseback, Prospero pulled to Trocero and whispered in his comrade's ear: Were we not fools the other night to wonder who should succeed Numedides?'
Count Trocero replied with a wry smile and a shrug of his iron-clad shoulders as he raised a hand in salutation to his fond and loyal subjects.
In his sanctum, Thulandra Thuu bent over a map, unrolled upon a taboret with weights of precious metals holding its edges down. He addressed himself to Alcina, now well rested from her journey and resplendent in a flowing robe of yellow satin, which clung to her fine-moulded body and glorified her raven hair.
'One of Latro's spies reports that Conan and his army are in Culario, resting from their battle and forced march. In time they will strike north, following the Khorotas to Tarantia.' He pointed with a long, well-pared fingernail. 'The place to stop them is at the Imirian Escarpment in Poitain, which lies athwart their path. The only force that has both weight and time enough to accomplish such a task is Prince Numitor's Royal Frontiersmen, based at Fort Thandara in the Westermarck of Bossonia.'
Alcina peered at the map and said: Then should you not order Prince Numitor to march south-east with all
dispatch, taking all but a small garrison?'
The wizard chuckled drily. 'We shall make a general of I you yet, good wench. The rider bearing that message in his pouch set off ere dawn.' Thulandra Thuu then measured off distances with his fingers, rotating his hand as if it were a draughtsman's compass. 'But, as you see, if Conan marches within the next two days, Numitor can in no way reach the escarpment in advance of him. We must cause him to delay.'
'Yes, Master, but how?'
'I am not unacquainted with weather magic and can control the spirits of the air. I shall contrive a scheme to hold the Cimmerian in Culario. Fetch hither yonder powders and potions, girl, and we shall test the power of my wizardry.'
Conan stood on the city wall beside the newly elected mayor of Culario. The day had been fair when they began their promenade; but now they gazed at an indigo sky across which clouds of leaden grey rolled in endless procession.
'I like it not, sir,' said the mayor. 'The summer has been ; wet, and this looks like the start of another spell. Too much rain can be as bad for the crops as none at all. And here it comes!' he finished, wiping a large drop from his forehead. As the two men descended the spiral stair that wound around the tower, an agitated Prospero confronted them. 'General!' he cried. 'You slipped away from your bodyguard again!'
'By Crom, I like to get off by myself sometimes!' growled , Conan. 'I need no nursemaid looking after me.'
'It is the price of power, General,' said Prospero. 'More than our leader, you've become our symbol and our inspiration. We must guard you as
we would our banner or another sacred relic; for if the enemy could strike you down, his fight were three-fourths won. I assure you, spies of Vibius Latro lurk in Culario, watching for a chance to slip a poison into your wine, or a poniard between your ribs.' 'Those vermin!' snorted Conan.
'Aye, but you can die from such a creature's sting as readily as any common man. Thus, General, we have no
choice but to cosset you as carefully as a newborn prince. These trifling inconveniences you must learn to endure.'
Conan heaved a gusty sigh. 'There's much to be said for the life of a footloose wanderer, such as once I was. Let's quick to the governor's palace ere this cloudburst wash us
all away.'
Conan and Prospero strode swiftly over the cobblestones, the stout mayor panting to keep pace. Overhead, a meandering crack of violet light cleft the sky, and thunder crashed like the roll of a thousand drums. The rain came down in sheets.
IX
The Iron Stallion
While Poitain writhed beneath the lash of the most violent storm in the memory of living men, a benign sun smiled on fair Tarantia. Standing in its salubrious rays on a palace balcony, Thulandra Thuu, attended by Alcina and Hsiao, looked out across the gently rolling fields of central Aquilonia, where summer wheat was ripening into spears of gold. To the dancer, now young and beautiful once more, with jewels atwinkle in her night-black hair and a gown of clinging satin sheathing her shapely form, the wizard said:
'The wheel of heaven reveals to me that the spirits of the air have served me well. My storm progresses apace; and after it subsides, the southern roads and every ford will be impassable. Numitor hastens from the Westermarck, and I must forth to join him.'
Alcina stared. 'You mean to travel to the field of battle, Master? Ishtar! That's not your wont. May I ask why?'
'Numitor will be outnumbered by the rebel forces; and despite forced marches, Ulric of Raman cannot reach Poitain until at least a fortnight after the prince arrives. Moreover, Prince Numitor is but an honest blockhead - doubtless the reason why our knavish king has let his cousin live when he has slain or exiled all his other kin. Nay, I cannot trust the ' prince to hold the Imirian Escarpment until Count Ulric arrives. He will require the assistance of my arcane arts.'
The Conan Chronology Page 604