behind them, and the closingwicket shut off the glow of the lamps. In the starlight of the streetZabibi took Conan's hand. Her own hand trembled a little.
'You will not fail me?'
He shook his maned head, massive against the stars.
'Then follow me to Hanuman's shrine, and the gods have mercy on oursouls!'
Along the silent streets they moved like phantoms of antiquity. Theywent in silence. Perhaps the girl was thinking of her lover lyingsenseless on the divan under the copper lamps; or was shrinking withfear of what lay ahead of them in the demon-haunted shrine of Hanuman.The barbarian was thinking only of the woman moving so supplely besidehim. The perfume of her scented hair was in his nostrils, the sensuousaura of her presence filled his brain and left room for no otherthoughts.
Once they heard the clank of brass-shod feet, and drew into the shadowsof a gloomy arch while a squad of Pelishtim watchmen swung past. Therewere fifteen of them; they marched in close formation, pikes at theready, and the rearmost men had their broad brass shields slung on theirbacks, to protect them from a knife-stroke from behind. The skulkingmenace of the black man-eaters was a threat even to armed men.
As soon as the clang of their sandals had receded up the street, Conanand the girl emerged from their hiding-place and hurried on. A fewmoments later they saw the squat, flat-topped edifice they soughtlooming ahead of them.
The temple of Hanuman stood alone in the midst of a broad square, whichlay silent and deserted beneath the stars. A marble wall surrounded theshrine, with a broad opening directly before the portico. This openinghad no gate or any sort of barrier.
'Why don't the blacks seek their prey here?' muttered Conan. 'There'snothing to keep them out of the temple.'
He could feel the trembling of Zabibi's body as she pressed close tohim.
'They fear Totrasmek, as all in Zamboula fear him, even Jungir Khan andNafertari. Come! Come quickly, before my courage flows from me likewater!'
The girl's fear was evident, but she did not falter. Conan drew hissword and strode ahead of her as they advanced through the open gateway.He knew the hideous habits of the priests of the East, and was awarethat an invader of Hanuman's shrine might expect to encounter almost anysort of nightmare horror. He knew there was a good chance that neitherhe nor the girl would ever leave the shrine alive, but he had risked hislife too many times before to devote much thought to that consideration.
They entered a court paved with marble which gleamed whitely in thestarlight. A short flight of broad marble steps led up to the pillaredportico. The great bronze doors stood wide open as they had stood forcenturies. But no worshippers burnt incense within. In the day men andwomen might come timidly into the shrine and place offerings to theape-god on the black altar. At night the people shunned the temple ofHanuman as hares shun the lair of the serpent.
Burning censers bathed the interior in a soft weird glow that created anillusion of unreality. Near the rear wall, behind the black stone altar,sat the god with his gaze fixed for ever on the open door, through whichfor centuries his victims had come, dragged by chains of roses. A faintgroove ran from the sill to the altar, and when Conan's foot felt it, hestepped away as quickly as if he had trodden upon a snake. That groovehad been worn by the faltering feet of the multitude of those who haddied screaming on that grim altar.
Bestial in the uncertain light Hanuman leered with his carven mask. Hesat, not as an ape would crouch, but cross-legged as a man would sit,but his aspect was no less simian for that reason. He was carved fromblack marble, but his eyes were rubies, which glowed red and lustful asthe coals of hell's deepest pits. His great hands lay upon his lap,palms upward, taloned fingers spread and grasping. In the gross emphasisof his attributes, in the leer of his satyr-countenance, was reflectedthe abominable cynicism of the degenerate cult which deified him.
The girl moved around the image, making toward the back wall, and whenher sleek flank brushed against a carven knee, she shrank aside andshuddered as if a reptile had touched her. There was a space of severalfeet between the broad back of the idol and the marble wall with itsfrieze of gold leaves. On either hand, flanking the idol, an ivory doorunder a gold arch was set in the wall.
'Those doors open into each end of a hair-pin shaped corridor,' she saidhurriedly. 'Once I was in the interior of the shrine--once!' Sheshivered and twitched her slim shoulders at a memory both terrifying andobscene. 'The corridor is bent like a horseshoe, with each horn openinginto this room. Totrasmek's chambers are enclosed within the curve ofthe corridor and open into it. But there is a secret door in this wallwhich opens directly into an inner chamber--'
She began to run her hands over the smooth surface, where no crack orcrevice showed. Conan stood beside her, sword in hand, glancing warilyabout him. The silence, the emptiness of the shrine, with imaginationpicturing what might lie behind that wall, made him feel like a wildbeast nosing a trap.
'Ah!' The girl had found a hidden spring at last; a square opening gapedblackly in the wall. 'Set!' she screamed, and even as Conan leapedtoward her, he saw that a great misshapen hand had fastened itself inher hair. She was snatched off her feet and jerked head-first throughthe opening. Conan, grabbing ineffectually at her, felt his fingers slipfrom a naked limb, and in an instant she had vanished and the wallshowed blank as before. Only from beyond it came briefly the muffledsounds of a struggle, a scream, faintly heard, and a low laugh that madeConan's blood congeal in his veins.
Shadows in Zamboula Page 5
