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A WITCH SHALL BE BORN
By Robert E. Howard
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was first published in Weird Tales December 1934. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
1 The Blood-Red Crescent
Taramis, queen of Khauran, awakened from a dream-haunted slumber to asilence that seemed more like the stillness of nighted catacombs thanthe normal quiet of a sleeping place. She lay staring into the darkness,wondering why the candles in their golden candelabra had gone out. Aflecking of stars marked a gold-barred casement that lent noillumination to the interior of the chamber. But as Taramis lay there,she became aware of a spot of radiance glowing in the darkness beforeher. She watched, puzzled. It grew and its intensity deepened as itexpanded, a widening disk of lurid light hovering against the darkvelvet hangings of the opposite wall. Taramis caught her breath,starting up to a sitting position. A dark object was visible in thatcircle of light--_a human head_.
In a sudden panic the queen opened her lips to cry out for her maids;then she checked herself. The glow was more lurid, the head more vividlylimned. It was a woman's head, small, delicately molded, superblypoised, with a high-piled mass of lustrous black hair. The face grewdistinct as she stared--and it was the sight of this face which frozethe cry in Taramis's throat. The features were her own! She might havebeen looking into a mirror which subtly altered her reflection, lendingit a tigerish gleam of eye, a vindictive curl of lip.
'Ishtar!' gasped Taramis. 'I am bewitched!'
Appallingly, the apparition spoke, and its voice was like honeyed venom.
'Bewitched? No, sweet sister! Here is no sorcery.'
'Sister?' stammered the bewildered girl. 'I have no sister.'
'You never had a sister?' came the sweet, poisonously mocking voice.'Never a twin sister whose flesh was as soft as yours to caress orhurt?'
'Why, once I had a sister,' answered Taramis, still convinced that shewas in the grip of some sort of nightmare. 'But she died.'
The beautiful face in the disk was convulsed with the aspect of a fury;so hellish became its expression that Taramis, cowering back, halfexpected to see snaky locks writhe hissing about the ivory brow.
'You lie!' The accusation was spat from between the snarling red lips.'She did not die! Fool! Oh, enough of this mummery! Look--and let yoursight be blasted!'
Light ran suddenly along the hangings like flaming serpents, andincredibly the candles in the golden sticks flared up again. Taramiscrouched on her velvet couch, her lithe legs flexed beneath her, staringwide-eyed at the pantherish figure which posed mockingly before her. Itwas as if she gazed upon another Taramis, identical with herself inevery contour of feature and limb, yet animated by an alien and evilpersonality. The face of this stranger waif reflected the opposite ofevery characteristic the countenance of the queen denoted. Lust andmystery sparkled in her scintillant eyes, cruelty lurked in the curl ofher full red lips. Each movement of her supple body was subtlysuggestive. Her coiffure imitated that of the queen's, on her feet weregilded sandals such as Taramis wore in her boudoir. The sleeveless,low-necked silk tunic, girdled at the waist with a cloth-of-goldcincture, was a duplicate of the queen's night-garment.
'Who are you?' gasped Taramis, an icy chill she could not explaincreeping along her spine. 'Explain your presence before I call myladies-in-waiting to summon the guard!'
'Scream until the roof beams crack,' callously answered the stranger.'Your sluts will not wake till dawn, though the palace spring intoflames about them. Your guardsmen will not hear your squeals; they havebeen sent out of this wing of the palace.'
'What!' exclaimed Taramis, stiffening with outraged majesty. 'Who daredgive my guardsmen such a command?'
'I did, sweet sister,' sneered the other girl. 'A little while ago,before I entered. They thought it was their darling adored queen. Ha!How beautifully I acted the part! With what imperious dignity, softenedby womanly sweetness, did I address the great louts who knelt in theirarmor and plumed helmets!'
Taramis felt as if a stifling net of bewilderment were being drawn abouther.
'Who are you?' she cried desperately. 'What madness is this? Why do youcome here?'
'Who am I?' There was the spite of a she-cobra's hiss in the softresponse. The girl stepped to the edge of the couch, grasped the queen'swhite shoulders with fierce fingers, and bent to glare full into thestartled eyes of Taramis. And under the spell of that hypnotic glare,the queen forgot to resent the unprecedented outrage of violent handslaid on regal flesh.
'Fool!' gritted the girl between her teeth. 'Can you ask? Can youwonder? I am Salome!'
'Salome!' Taramis breathed the word, and the hairs prickled on her scalpas she realized the incredible, numbing truth of the statement. 'Ithought you died within the hour of your birth,' she said feebly.
'So thought many,' answered the woman who called herself Salome. 'Theycarried me into the desert to die, damn them! I, a mewing, puling babewhose life was so young it was scarcely the flicker of a candle. And doyou know why they bore me forth to die?'
'I--I have heard the story--' faltered Taramis.
Salome laughed fiercely, and slapped her bosom. The low-necked tunicleft the upper parts of her firm breasts bare, and between them thereshone a curious mark--a crescent, red as blood.
'The mark of the witch!' cried Taramis, recoiling.
'Aye!' Salome's laughter was dagger-edged with hate. 'The curse of thekings of Khauran! Aye, they tell the tale in the market-places, withwagging beards and rolling eyes, the pious fools! They tell how thefirst queen of our line had traffic with a fiend of darkness and borehim a daughter who lives in foul legendry to this day. And thereafter ineach century a girl baby was born into the Askhaurian dynasty, with ascarlet half-moon between her breasts, that signified her destiny.
'"Every century a witch shall be born." So ran the ancient curse. And soit has come to pass. Some were slain at birth, as they sought to slayme. Some walked the earth as witches, proud daughters of Khauran, withthe moon of hell burning upon their ivory bosoms. Each was named Salome.I too am Salome. It was always Salome, the witch. It will always beSalome, the witch, even when the mountains of ice have roared down fromthe pole and ground the civilizations to ruin, and a new world has risenfrom the ashes and dust--even then there shall be Salomes to walk theearth, to trap men's hearts by their sorcery, to dance before the kingsof the world, to see the heads of the wise men fall at their pleasure.'
'But--but you--' stammered Taramis.
'I?' The scintillant eyes burned like dark fires of mystery. 'Theycarried me into the desert far from the city, and laid me naked on thehot sand, under the flaming sun. And then they rode away and left me forthe jackals and the vultures and the desert wolves.
'But the life in me was stronger than the life in common folk, for itpartakes of the essence of the forces that seethe in the black gulfsbeyond mortal ken. The hours passed, and the sun slashed down like themolten flames of hell, but I did not die--aye, something of that tormentI remember, faintly and far away, as one remembers a dim, formlessdream. Then there were camels, and yellow-skinned men who wore silkrobes and spoke in a weird tongue. Strayed from the caravan road, theypassed close by, and their leader saw me, and recognized the scarletcrescent on my bosom. He took me up and gave me life.
'He was a magician from far Khitai, returning to his native kingdomafter a journey to Stygia. He took me with him to purple-toweringPaikang, its minarets rising amid the vine-festooned jungles of bamboo,and there I grew to womanhood under his teaching. Age had
steeped himdeep in black wisdom, not weakened his powers of evil. Many things hetaught me--'
She paused, smiling enigmatically, with wicked mystery gleaming in herdark eyes. Then she tossed her head.
'He drove me from him at last, saying that I was but a common witch inspite of his teachings, and not fit to command the mighty sorcery hewould have taught me. He would have made me queen of the world and ruledthe nations through me, he said, but I was only a harlot of darkness.But what of it? I could never endure to seclude myself in a goldentower, and spend the long hours staring into a crystal globe, mumblingover incantations written on serpent's skin in the blood of virgins,poring over musty volumes in forgotten languages.
'He said I was but an earthly sprite, knowing naught of the deeper gulfsof cosmic sorcery. Well, this world contains all I desire--power, andpomp, and glittering pageantry, handsome men and soft women for myparamours and my slaves. He had told me who I was, of the curse and myheritage. I have returned to take that to which I have as much right asyou. Now it is mine by right of possession.'
'What do you mean?' Taramis sprang up and faced her sister, stung out ofher bewilderment and fright. 'Do you imagine that by drugging a few ofmy maids and tricking a few of my guardsmen you have established a claimto the throne of Khauran? Do not forget that I am Queen of Khauran! Ishall give you a place of honor, as my sister, but--'
Salome laughed hatefully.
'How generous of you, dear, sweet sister! But before you begin puttingme in my place--perhaps you will tell me whose soldiers camp in theplain outside the city walls?'
'They are the Shemitish mercenaries of Constantius, the Kothic _voivode_of the Free Companies.'
'And what do they in Khauran?' cooed Salome.
Taramis felt that she was being subtly mocked, but she answered with anassumption of dignity which she scarcely felt.
'Constantius asked permission to pass along the borders of Khauran onhis way to Turan. He himself is hostage for their good behavior as longas they are within my domains.'
'And Constantius,' pursued Salome. 'Did he not ask your hand today?'
Taramis shot her a clouded glance of suspicion.
'How did you know that?'
An insolent shrug of the slim naked shoulders was the only reply.
'You refused, dear sister?'
'Certainly I refused!' exclaimed Taramis angrily. 'Do you, an Askhaurianprincess yourself, suppose that the Queen of Khauran could treat such aproposal with anything but disdain? Wed a bloody-handed adventurer, aman exiled from his own kingdom because of his crimes, and the leader oforganized plunderers and hired murderers?
'I should never have allowed him to bring his black-bearded slayers intoKhauran. But he is virtually a prisoner in the south tower, guarded bymy soldiers. Tomorrow I shall bid him order his troops to leave thekingdom. He himself shall be kept captive until they are over theborder. Meantime, my soldiers man the walls of the city, and I havewarned him that he will answer for any outrages perpetrated on thevillagers or shepherds by his mercenaries.'
'He is confined in the south tower?' asked Salome.
'That is what I said. Why do you ask?'
For answer Salome clapped her hands, and lifting her voice, with agurgle of cruel mirth in it, called: 'The queen grants you an audience,Falcon!'
A gold-arabesqued door opened and a tall figure entered the chamber, atthe sight of which Taramis cried out in amazement and anger.
'Constantius! You dare enter my chamber!'
'As you see, Your Majesty!' He bent his dark, hawk-like head in mockhumility.
Constantius, whom men called Falcon, was tall, broad-shouldered,slim-waisted, lithe and strong as pliant steel. He was handsome in anaquiline, ruthless way. His face was burnt dark by the sun, and hishair, which grew far back from his high, narrow forehead, was black as araven. His dark eyes were penetrating and alert, the hardness of histhin lips not softened by his thin black mustache. His boots were ofKordavan leather, his hose and doublet of plain, dark silk, tarnishedwith the wear of the camps and the stains of armor rust.
Twisting his mustache, he let his gaze travel up and down the shrinkingqueen with an effrontery that made her wince.
'By Ishtar, Taramis,' he said silkily, 'I find you more alluring in yournight-tunic than in your queenly robes. Truly, this is an auspiciousnight!'
Fear grew in the queen's dark eyes. She was no fool; she knew thatConstantius would never dare this outrage unless he was sure of himself.
'You are mad!' she said. 'If I am in your power in this chamber, you areno less in the power of my subjects, who will rend you to pieces if youtouch me. Go at once, if you would live.'
Both laughed mockingly, and Salome made an impatient gesture.
'Enough of this farce; let us on to the next act in the comedy. Listen,dear sister: it was I who sent Constantius here. When I decided to takethe throne of Khauran, I cast about for a man to aid me, and chose theFalcon, because of his utter lack of all characteristics men call good.'
'I am overwhelmed, princess,' murmured Constantius sardonically, with aprofound bow.
'I sent him to Khauran, and, once his men were camped in the plainoutside, and he was in the palace, I entered the city by that small gatein the west wall--the fools guarding it thought it was you returningfrom some nocturnal adventure--'
'You hell-cat!' Taramis's cheeks flamed and her resentment got thebetter of her regal reserve.
Salome smiled hardly.
'They were properly surprised and shocked, but admitted me withoutquestion. I entered the palace the same way, and gave the order to thesurprised guards that sent them marching away, as well as the men whoguarded Constantius in the south tower. Then I came here, attending tothe ladies-in-waiting on the way.'
Taramis's fingers clenched and she paled.
'Well, what next?' she asked in a shaky voice.
'Listen!' Salome inclined her head. Faintly through the casement therecame the clank of marching men in armor; gruff voices shouted in analien tongue, and cries of alarm mingled with the shouts.
'The people awaken and grow fearful,' said Constantius sardonically.'You had better go and reassure them, Salome!'
'Call me Taramis,' answered Salome. 'We must become accustomed to it.'
'What have you done?' cried Taramis. 'What have you done?'
'I have gone to the gates and ordered the soldiers to open them,'answered Salome. 'They were astounded, but they obeyed. That is theFalcon's army you hear, marching into the city.'
'You devil!' cried Taramis. 'You have betrayed my people, in my guise!You have made me seem a traitor! Oh, I shall go to them--'
With a cruel laugh Salome caught her wrist and jerked her back. Themagnificent suppleness of the queen was helpless against the vindictivestrength that steeled Salome's slender limbs.
'You know how to reach the dungeons from the palace, Constantius?' saidthe witch-girl. 'Good. Take this spitfire and lock her into thestrongest cell. The jailers are all sound in drugged sleep. I saw tothat. Send a man to cut their throats before they can awaken. None mustever know what has occurred tonight. Thenceforward I am Taramis, andTaramis is a nameless prisoner in an unknown dungeon.'
Constantius smiled with a glint of strong white teeth under his thinmustache.
'Very good; but you would not deny me a little--ah--amusement first?'
'Not I! Tame the scornful hussy as you will.' With a wicked laugh Salomeflung her sister into the Kothian's arms, and turned away through thedoor that opened into the outer corridor.
Fright widened Taramis's lovely eyes, her supple figure rigid andstraining against Constantius's embrace. She forgot the men marching inthe streets, forgot the outrage to her queenship, in the face of themenace to her womanhood. She forgot all sensations but terror and shameas she faced the complete cynicism of Constantius's burning, mockingeyes, felt his hard arms crushing her writhing body.
Salome, hurrying along the corridor outside, smiled spitefully as ascream of despair and agony
rang shuddering through the palace.
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