Tothapis' gaze sharpened upon him. 'What know you about the Ax of Varanghi?' the magician demanded.
What he saw in the chair before him was a sturdy, middle-aged person, square-visaged, prow-nosed, tan-skinned, clean-shaven. The hair that fell in severe outline down past his ears was grizzling. Outer garment doffed, Ramwas wore a plain white tunic and leather sandals. He had also, of course, left in the vestibule the short-sword which he, as a military officer, was entitled to bear. In addition he was a minor nobleman and large landholder.
'Hardly more than what you hear in Taia, my lord,' he said uneasily. 'I was stationed there years ago. The natives claim it is a relic from Mitra, hidden away somewhere, and someday a leader will bear it again and set them free of us.' He shrugged. 'The usual kind of superstition.'
'Except,' Nehekba murmured, 'that now Taia is once again in rebellion. And Our Master of Night appears to know this is no
ordinary uprising for a few regiments and executioners to quell.'
'Quite so,' Tothapis agreed. 'He Who Is did not bespeak Taia as such. Perhaps he would have later. The spells I cast afterward concerned chiefly a certain female pirate named Bêlit -'
Ramwas started.
'- and her present companion, a barbarian from the Northlands,' Tothapis continued. 'About him I could learn virtually nothing, though it is him rather than her that I was warned against. She, however, has been in these parts ere now. As always, the stones and the ghosts remember. Thus I got your name, Ramwas. My mundane agents learned more about you, and that fortunately you were at present in Khemi, inspecting your property nearby. They tell me you are an able and reliable man.'
Ramwas bowed his head over folded hands.
'Perhaps, my lord,' Nehekba suggested, 'you could begin by describing your vision to us.'
Tothapis gave her a look more whetted than he cast on the officer. The high priestess of Derketa was subordinate to the hierarchy of Set. Nevertheless this goddess of carnality, who was also a goddess of the dead, and believed to lead them through the sky on midnight winds, was no minor deity. Her cult reached far beyond Stygia; and in that kingdom, the common people probably invoked her oftener, more fervently, than they did remote and terrible Set. As mistress of her mysteries, the high priestess in Khemi was always an accomplished witch, and the sole woman who sat in the Council of Sacerdotes.
'Have a care, Nehekba,' Tothapis said low. 'You and I have worked together before, yes, but you are apt to skirt insolence.'
'I pray pardon, lord.' Her tone was unrepentant. 'I thought we should not dawdle in the business of the Serpent.'
His gaze lingered a moment longer. Ramwas' did, too. Nehekba had come to office young, amidst rumours of poison, by insinuating herself with the right faction in one of Khemi's hidden struggles for power. She retained the beauty of her youth. Slightly taller than most Stygian noblewomen, she had their slenderness, but she made it altogether sensual. Her countenance was an oval, bearing straight nose, exquisitely moulded lips, huge eyes of lustrous bronze hue beneath high-arched brows. Flawless, her skin was the colour of smoky amber. Strings of faïence beads confined the jet flow of her hair, down to just above bosom and shoulder blades. At present she wore her crown, shaped like an unfolding lotus, and a gauzy white undergown; she had left her robe outside. The rings that glittered on her fingers and the pectoral on her breast were mere ornament. Her amulet was a tiny mirror on a silver chain at her throat.
'Well,' Tothapis said. 'I will relate that with which Our Master of Night favoured me.'
His account was straightforward, simply omitting mention of any terror he might have felt. He finished: 'We can do nothing about winds until that ship is much closer, and then very little. But to judge from her present location, she will take a fortnight to work this far north; the current being against her, she must needs stands well out to sea if she would make any real speed. Thus we have time to think and prepare.'
'What can a lone buccaneer vessel mean, lord?' Ramwas wondered. 'Seaborne commerce is not vital to the wealth of Stygia – supposing our war-craft cannot hunt her down.'
Tothapis stared into shadow. 'He who has come aboard her is, in some unknown way, a torch that fate may kindle.'
The soldier shivered and signed himself.
'If this be true,' Nehekba reminded, 'then our actions to thwart him could prove to be the very sparks that light the flame.'
Tothapis nodded. 'Indeed. But if we sit passive, then surely something else will set it ablaze; and we shall not be near to seize it and quench it in the Styx. He Who Is would not reveal himself to me in vain.'
He addressed Ramwas: 'Hear why I have sent for you. The necromancy disclosed your name, enough else about you that my servants could readily learn more, and the fact that you have formerly had to do with Bêlit, and still keep what can lure her. This ought to give us a hold on Conan.' Contempt twisted his mouth. 'I saw how lost in her he already is. A half month's cruise will utterly besot him.'
Nehekba drooped long lashes. 'He sounds interesting, though,' she breathed. 'Could you describe him more closely, my lord?'
'And Bêlit, I beg you,' Ramwas added.
Tothapis did. When he had finished, the nobleman tugged his chin and said slowly, 'Aye, no mistake, no forgetting her. She is a former slave of mine, captured with her brother and a load of tribesmen in a blackbirding expedition to the south that I commissioned about three years ago. I sold most of the Negroes, but kept those two whites, and lived to regret it. Hell-spawn she was, and before long escaped, leaving good servants of mine dead behind her. The brother is no better.'
'Yes, the spell told me a little of him, wherefore I ordered you to have him led here,' Tothapis answered. 'Now tell me more.'
Ramwas shrugged. 'He is a Shemite, the name, um-m, Jehanan. Strong, intelligent, and intractable – the dangerous kind. He kept trying to break loose himself, but in his case he failed. Repeated lashings and stays in the Black Box wrought no cure. When at last, bare-handed, he killed an overseer who was punishing him, I decided he would never be of use on any farm of mine. I had him clubbed before the eyes of his fellow slaves by an expert who knows how to do it so the pain will last a lifetime. Then I rented him out to the quarry master below the Pyramid. They are accustomed to hard cases there.'
Nehekba stroked her cheek. 'Could we bring him here for an interview?' she asked.
'Pointless, my lady,' Ramwas assured her. 'By report, not even the endless pain has tamed him. He works steadily these days, but simply because chains are never off quarry slaves. I have a notion he would enjoy resisting us, no matter how he was tortured.'
'Torture would be stupid in any event,' the priestess said impatiently. 'I want to know him.'
'That is why I sent for my lady of Derketa,' Tothapis explained. 'She has arts no male will ever attain. Still, no need to bring a stinking stone chopper to this place. I will give you a sight of him where he is, Nehekba.'
He traced a symbol and muttered a few words. In the gloom of the corner, an invisible door seemed to open, and the three looked into a guardroom. Armed men lounged at ease, talking or dicing. Yet they were never entirely relaxed, and two of them stayed afoot,
pikes grounded, free hands near short swords.
He of whom they were wary sat on a bench under a decorated wall. Lamplight showed a young man of medium height but huge breadth of shoulder and depth of chest, the muscles in limbs and belly like ship's cables. He wore nothing but a dirty loincloth, his bonds, crusted grime and sweat-salt. The Stygian sun had burned his skin leathery. His matted hair and beard were brown, but filth blackened them, too. A smashed nose sprawled across a once comely face now turned into lumps and jaggednesses; numerous teeth were missing; scars criss-crossed the entire body, a broken left collarbone had been deliberately missed. Nonetheless his eyes, almost golden, were akin to a hawk's.
Sound came through the portal, click of dice, grumble of a warder: 'How long must we stay here? I go on duty at dawn, I do.'
'Hush,' cautioned another. 'We serve great lords tonight.'
'On his account, plain to see,' the first guard snapped, and jerked a thumb at the slave. 'Hey-ah, why couldn't you have died before, fellow? Most don't last as long as you have.' He spat on his charge's bare foot.
Jehanan sprang erect. The links clanked between his ankles. He swung his arms up, as if to bring their fetters down on the skull of his tormentor. Pike points were instantly at his throat. Snarling, he eased his stance. 'The revenge I will take, when my hour comes, keeps me alive,' he said, in harshly accented Stygian, through ragged gulps of air. 'But you are not worth spitting back at.'
He turned. The fresco behind him depicted Set receiving a sacrificial procession. He spat on the god.
A gasp of horror broke from the keepers and from Ramwas. 'Hold!' Nehekba cried. 'They will kill him if you don't stop them, Tothapis.'
'He blasphemed,' said the magician shakily.
'There are worse punishments than death,' Nehekba reminded, 'and first we need him, for the Lord of the World Below.'
Tothapis gave a stiff nod, made a further gesture, and rapped a command: 'Desist! Let him be! He is fated!' The guards heard. In awe, they retreated from Jehanan, who grinned defiance at them. Tothapis terminated the view.
'What shall we make of him?' he asked after a silence.
Nehekba stirred out of thoughtfulness and smiled a slow sleepy smile. ' will make him what we need, my lord.'
'How?'
'Not by scourging or locking in a coffin under the sun or aught like that. No, let him be conveyed to the Keep of the Manticore. Let him be bathed, anointed, well clad, well dined and wined. Let him have a soft bed in a beautiful room where the air is cool and fragrant. When he has rested, I will seek him out. Presently we shall know much more.'
Tothapis' own hard mouth quirked briefly upward. 'I am not surprised, Nehekba. So be it.'
Again he turned to Ramwas. 'You are a trusty man,' he said. His voice dropped. 'I hope you are.'
The other shrank back the least bit. 'I strive to be, my lord,' he replied, not quite steadily.
Tothapis nodded. 'Good. Though the penalty for failure is unbounded, the reward for success can be high. This must remain a very secret matter, at least until we understand better what it portends. Else we could find ourselves entangled at cross-purposes with many an ambitious official, not to speak of a civil service which has grown over the state like coral. The business is too urgent and too deadly for that.
'Therefore, Ramwas, you must become an agent of mine.' He lifted a hand against the man's alarm. 'Fear not. You will not have to deal with magic – much. It is only that, in this time of crisis, I require men who are competent to meet emergencies as they arise. I have none such in Luxur whom I think is advisable to make privy to this affair. But I may well need one – the more so when the Taian revolt is perhaps linked to Conan's destiny that we must abort. You have been there often, you know the city and people, you have authority. A word from me to the Grand General will get you posted to Luxur on a 'special mission'. You will organize a corps of men to keep watch on every suspicious place there.'
'But – but my lord,' stammered Ramwas, 'it is hundreds of miles upriver. Killing horses along the way, I could hardly arrive before that pirate ship reaches our coasts. And then, the fastest carrier pigeons could never roost aboard the sacred wing boat. Of it you may not have heard; but it will bear you thither in a night and a day and a night. With you will go a homunculus that can relay your words to me, and mine to you, across the leagues between at the speed of thought.'
Ramwas, who had hunted lions and men, could not repress a shudder.
Tothapis saw and told him soothingly: 'You will have time to set your own concerns here in order if you are diligent. You will also have time to prepare yourself in Luxur. First, of course, you and I must speak further, more than once. And... never forget, Ramwas, the hour of trouble is the hour of the bold. They come to power, and the ages afterward revere their names. Would you not like that, Ramwas?'
Nehekba curled serpentine in her chair and smiled to herself.
III
The Woman Avenger
'For me,' Bêlit said, 'happiness died when a black sail hove above the sea-rim.'
She stood beside Conan on the upper deck, at the prow, next to the figurehead. Its gilt flashed brilliant under a cloudless heaven. Sunlight glittered off waves where they rushed blue, green, white-maned. A stiff and bracing breeze filled the sail and sent Tigress northward at a pace that had foam hissing around her cutwater. The galley plunged like a living beast; cordage sang; land had dropped from sight, but gulls yet trailed her, purity and grace on the wind. Below, crewmen laughed and jested in their native tongue as they went about their duties.
Yet the soul of Bêlit was afar, in a terrible place. She stared from the storm-wrack of her unbound hair, out across leagues and years. When Conan laid an arm around her, she did not flow to him as erstwhile. Her monotone went on:
'Be-like I should start at the beginning, however much pain is in memory raised from its grave. My father was Hoiakim, a man of Dan-marcah on the northern coast of Shem, near the Argossean border. The city is not large, but she is tributary to none. The forests of her hinterland give timber for many ships that fare widely in trade; foreigners make lively her taverns and crooked streets; serenity dwells in the temples of her gods.
'Hoiakim wed Shaaphi and brought her south. A treaty had lately been concluded with the Suba tribe on the Black Coast, for a trading post among them. It was a rare opportunity for a young man. The Suba were fishers, farmers, and hunters in the jungle. They also dealt with peoples inland. Thus they had abundant goods – hides, gems, gold dust, hardwoods, curious animals and birds. In return they wanted iron tools and weapons, fabrics, spices, medicines, and the like. My father became the factor.
'Soon he was mighty among them. Not only was he strong of arm, tireless in the chase, a peerless archer, but he was wise and just. The natives came to him for counsel about most things and for judging of their disputes. In bad times – hurricane, flood, murrain, drought, war – he took over leadership in all but name. The chief did not resent this, for he, like the rest, thought that great magic lived in Bangulu. So they called my father, Bangulu, the High One. Nor did the witch doctor mind that my mother Shaaphi went among the folk as an angel, healing, midwifing, consoling, teaching women and children arts – gardening, weaving, preserving, cleanliness, music – that bettered their lives.
'There Jehanan was born and, two years later, I. There we grew up, friends of the Suba, rangers of woods and streams and sea, learning their wild skills and alien lore. At the same time, we did not become savages. Our parents saw to our education as proper Shemites. They had many scrolls and instruments for us as well as themselves. We accompanied them on their visits home. Besides, ships came to bring new trade goods and carry back what we had gathered. Foreign vessels, bartering or exploring, would put in too, for exchange of information and for merriment. No, we were not isolated. Life was good to us.
'The bud of my happiness broke into flower when -' Bêlit gripped the rail hard -'when I wedded.
'That was on the last voyage I made back to Dan-marcah. Jehanan was in no haste to marry; native girls were ever eager to please him. But I – I was a maiden still, and ardent. For my parents' part, they wished grandchildren, and a helper, since the post and its business had grown. In the city they engaged a marriage broker, who presently found a suitable youth. Neither pair of elders needed much persuasion for Aliel and me; we tumbled into love.
'My bridegroom returned with us. He proved an able assistant, and was soon well liked by the tribe. My happiness bore fruit next year, when a son was born unto us, our own little Kedron.
'Three months later, the black sail hove above the sea-rim.'
At first there was joy ashore. Visitors were always welcome. Warriors did hasten to take up spear, bow, knobkerrie, shield, and form a line on the beach. A few times the sight
of them had caused a vessel to sheer off, revealing her as a pirate or a slaver.
Bêlit left Kedron in his cradle and hurried outside to join Aliel. The sight before her, around her, was magnificent. At her back, beyond cultivated fields, the jungle rose intensely green under a blue dazzle of sky. A stream flowed thence, bright through the millet and yams, past rail-fenced paddocks where cattle grazed, to the sea. Beside it, on the edge of the beach, the kraal stood. Grass roofs, weathered golden, showed above palisades which honeysuckle made verdant, snowy, perfumed, bee-murmurous. The trading post lay by itself half a mile off, a long building of rammed earth, whitewashed and thatched, amidst a riot of oleander colours The beach was quartz sand, blinding bright. The brook emptied into a cove which gave safe approach and anchorage. Elsewhere, surf creamed and thundered in the van of sapphire waters. Afresh west wind bore heat away. A flight of parrots went by, noisy rainbows.
The warriors of Suba were poised tall along the shore. Naked save for grass skirts, plumed headdresses, bangles, beads, their sepia bodies gleamed as if oiled. From the stockade poured lithe women, fleet children, grave elders, the chief in a leopard skin. Chatter and laughter blew across to Bêlit. A drum throbbed in gladness.
Hoiakim and Shaaphi were already outside. The older man stroked his grey-shot beard and rumbled, 'What do you make of yonder craft, Aliel?'
His son-in-law squinted into glare. The ship was now hull up and nearing. She was big, her sides high and round, the few oar ports clearly meant for no more than close-in manoeuvrings. From strakes to sail, she was unrelieved sable; but a scarlet pennon fluttered at the masthead. Large objects of some kind were mounted at bow and stern. Light winked off metal as numerous men moved about her decks.
'Stygian, from the lines and paint,' Aliel decided. 'I wager they have others along, though; Stygians are no great seafarers. What
venture might they be on, this far from home?'
Unease touched Bêlit. She had heard too many ugly tales about Stygia. Aliel sensed it, squeezed her hand, smiled at her. She gave him back the gesture, cheered and grateful.
Conan the Rebel Page 2
