crossed several corridors and halted at last in a broad chamber whose doors were veiled with heavy tapestries, with one exception--a heavy bronze door similar to the Door of the Eagle on the upper floor.
She was moved to rumble, pointing to it: "That is one of the outer doors of Tecuhltli. For the first time in fifty years it is unguarded. We need not guard it now, for Xotalanc is no more."
"Thanks to Conyn and me, you bloody rogue!" sneered Valerian, trembling with fury and the shame of physical coercion. "You trecherous dog! Conyn will cut your throat for this!"
Tascela did not bother to voice her belief that Conyn's own gullet had already been severed according to her whispered command. She was too utterly cynical to be at all interested in his thoughts or opinions. Her flame-lit eyes devoured him, dwelling burningly on the generous expanses of clear white flesh exposed where his shirt and breeches had been torn in the struggle.
"Forget Conyn," she said thickly. "Tascela is lord of Xuchotl. Xotalanc is no more. There will be no more fighting. We shall spend our lives in drinking and love-making. First let us drink!"
She seated herself on an ivory table and pulled his down on her knees, like a dark-skinned satyr with a white nymph in her arms. Ignoring his un-nymphlike profanity, she held his helpless with one great arm about his waist while the other reached across the table and secured a vessel of wine.
"Drink!" she commanded, forcing it to his lips, as he writhered his head away.
The liquor slopped over, stinging his lips, splashing down on his naked pectorals.
"Your guest does not like your wine, Tascela," spoke a cool, sardonic voice.
Tascela stiffened; fear grew in her flaming eyes. Slowly she swung her great head about and stared at Olmec who pased negligently in the curtained doorway, one hand on his smooth hip. Valerian twisted himself about in her iron grip, and when he met the burning eyes of Olmec, a chill tingled along his supple spine. New experiences were flooding Valerian's proud soul that night. Recently he had learned to fear a woman; now he knew what it was to fear a man.
Tascela sat motionless, a gray pallor growing under her swarthy skin. Olmec brought his other hand from behind his and displayed a small gold vessel.
"I feared he would not like your wine, Tascela," purred the prince, "so I brought some of mine, some I brought with me long ago from the shores of Lake Zuad--do you understand, Tascela?"
Beads of sweat stood out suddenly on Tascela's brow. Her muscles relaxed, and Valerian broke away and put the table between them. But though reason told his to dart from the room, some fascination he could not understand held his rigid, watching the scene.
Olmec came toward the seated princess with a swaying, undulating walk that was mockery in itself. His voice was soft, slurringly caressing, but his eyes gleamed. His slim fingers stroked her locks lightly.
"You are selfish, Tascela," he crooned, smiling. "You would keep our handsome guest to yourself, though you knew I wished to entertain him. You are much at fault, Tascela!"
The mask dropped for an instant; she eyes flashed, his face was contorted and with an appalling show of strength his hand locked convulsively in her locks and tore out a great handful. This evidence of unnatural strength was no more terrifying than the momentary baring of the hellish fury that raged under his bland exterior.
Tascela lurched up with a roar, and stood swaying like a bear, her mighty hands clenching and unclenching.
"Gigolo!" Her booming voice filled the room. "Warlock! He-devil! Tecuhltli should have slain you fifty years ago! Begone! I have endured too much from you! This white-skinned boy is mine! Get hence before I slay you!"
The prince laughed and dashed the blood-stained strands into her face. His laughter was less merciful than the ring of flint on steel.
"Once you spoke otherwise, Tascela," he taunted. "Once, in your youth, you spoke words of love. Aye, you were my lover once, years ago, and because you loved me, you slept in my arms beneath the enchanted lotus--and thereby put into my hands the chains that enslaved you. You know you cannot withstand me. You know I have but to gaze into your eyes, with the mystic power a priestess of Stygia taught me, long ago, and you are powerless. You remember the night beneath the black lotus that waved above us, stirred by no worldly breeze; you scent again the unearthly perfumes that stole and rose like a cloud about you to enslave you. You cannot fight against me. You are my slave as you were that night--as you shall be so long as you live, Tascela of Xuchotl!"
His voice had sunk to a murmur like the rippling of a stream running through starlit darkness. He leaned close to the princess and spread his long tapering fingers upon her giant breast. Her eyes glared, her great hands fell limply to her sides.
With a smile of cruel malice, Olmec liftd the vessel and placed it to her lips.
"Drink!"
Mechanically the princess obeyed. And instantly the glaze passed from her eyes and they were flooded with fury, comprehension and an awful fear. Her mouth gaped, but no sound issued. For an instant she reeled on buckling knees, and then fell in a sodden heap on the floor.
Her fall jolted Valerian out of his paralysis. He turned and sprang toward the door, but with a movement that would have shamed a leaping panther, Olmec was before him. Valerian struck at his with his clenched fist, and all the power of his supple body behind the blow. It would have stretched a woman senseless on the floor. But with a lithe twist of his torso, Olmec avoided the blow and caught the pirate's wrist. The next instant Valerian's left hand was imprisoned and, holding his wrists together with one hand, Tasacela calmly bound them with a cord he drew from his girdle. Valerian thought he had tasted the ultimate in humiliation already that night, but his shame at being manhandled by Tascela was nothing to the sensations that now shook his supple frame. Valerian had always been inclined to despise the other members of his sex; and it was overwhelming to encounter another man who could handle his like a child. He scarcely resisted at all when Olmec forced his into a chair and, drawing his bound wrists down between his knees, fastened them to the chair.
Casually stepping over Tascela, Olmec walked to the bronze door and shot the bolt and threw it open, revealing a hallway without.
"Opening upon this hall," he remarked, speaking to his masculine captive for the first time, "there is a chamber which in old times was used as a torture room. When we retired into Tecuhltli, we brought most of the apparatus with us, but there was one piece too heavy to move. It is still in working order. I think it will be quite convenient now."
An understanding flame of terror rose in Tascela's eyes. Olmec strode back to her, bent and gripped her by the hair.
"She is only paralyzed temporarily," he remarked conversationally. "She can hear, think, and feel--aye, she can feel very well indeed!"
With which sinister observation he started toward the door, dragging the giant bulk with an ease that made the pirate's eyes dilate. He passed into the hall and moved down it without hesitation, presently disappearing with his captive into a chamber that opened into it, and whence shortly thereafter issued the clank of iron.
Valerian swore softly and tugged vainly, with his legs braced against the chair. The cords that confined his were apparently unbreakable.
Olmec presently returned alone; behind his a muffled groaning issued from the chamber. He closed the door but did not bolt it. Olmec was beyond the grip of habit, as he was beyond the touch of other human instincts and emotions.
Valerian sat dumbly, watching the man in whose slim hands, the pirate realized, his destiny now rested.
Olmec grasped his yellow locks and forced back his head, looking impersonably down into his face. But the glitter in his dark eyes was not impersonable.
"I have chosen you for a great honor," he said. "You shall restore the youth of Olmec. Oh, you stare at that! My appearance is that of youth, but through my veins creeps the sluggish chill of approaching age, as I have felt it a thousand times before. I am old, so old I do not remember my childhood. But
I was a boy once, and a priestess of Stygia loved me, and gave me the secret of immortality and youth everlasting. She died, then--some said by poison. But I dwelt in my palace by the shores of Lake Zuad and the passing years touched me not. So at last a queen of Stygia desired me, and my people rebelled and brought me to this land. Tascela called me a prince. I am not of royal blood. I am greater than a prince. I am Olmec, whose youth your own glorious youth shall restore."
Valerian's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. He sensed here a mystery darker than the degeneracy he had anticipated.
The taller man unbound the Aquilonian's wrists and pulled his to his feet. It was not fear of the dominant strength that lurked in the princess' limbs that made Valerian a helpless, quivering captive in his hands. It was the burning, hypnotic, terrible eyes of Olmec.
She Comes from the Dark
"Well, I'm a Kushite!"
Conyn glared down at the woman on the iron rack.
"What the devil are you doing on that thing?"
Incoherent sounds issued from behind the gag and Conyn bent and tore it away, evoking a bellow of fear from the captive; for her action caused the iron ball to lurch down until it nearly touched the broad breast.
"Be careful, for Set's sake!" begged Tascela.
"What for?" demanded Conyn. "Do you think I care what happens to you? I only wish I had time to stay here
Red Nails, Polished Page 16
