Most northern peoples were seminomadic at best. There had been times when entire nations had simply picked up their belongings and migrated for no better purpose than a change of scenery. Great wars often resulted. The most common reason, however, was the simple wearing out of land settled too long by people whose agricultural practices were primitive in the extreme.
Hagbard shook his head. 'I wish Alcuina had not picked this place, though. Better we had stayed to the hills and forests.'
'I can see why you do not like it,' Conan said, sipping at the rapidly-cooling ale. 'It is uncanny, with all those mounds and stone circles. Why did she pick misplace?'
'She deems we can better defend ourselves here, behind these giant-wrought walls. I speak no disloyalty,' the man said hastily, 'but Alcuina is not the leader her father, Hildric, used to be. He knew the way to deal with enemies was to kill them, not hide behind walls of stone.'
'What kind of place is this?' Conan asked, sweeping an arm to take in the uncanny plain.
'Long ago,' Hagbard said, 'even before my grandfather was born, giants lived in this place. It was their stronghold. They fought a war with the gods for many generations, with neither side having the victory. Then the giants hired dwarfs to build them a great wall engirdling this whole plain. The fee claimed by the dwarf master mason was the daughter of the king of the giants. The wall was built, and the wedding was held. But'—by now Hagbard's breath was steaming heavily with the cold—'on her wedding night, the bride murdered the groom, as what princess would not, given so inadequate a husband? In a single night, the dwarfs tore down the wall and the gods stormed in and slew all the giants, who were still besotted from their feasting. These ruins are all that is left of that ancient slaughter, but I think the spirits of the slain giants linger here still.'
Conan pulled his cloak closer around him. The mulled ale was gone, and he was beginning to feel the effects of all the food and drink he had taken on that night. 'Well, restless or not, they are dead now,' Conan commented. 'Good night, friend. I think it is time to seek my bed in the straw.'
'Good night, Conan. Would you wake my relief? It is Oswin, who sleeps nearest the door tonight.'
Conan assured Hagbard that he would not sleep until Oswin was awake and headed out into the cold. He descended the stair to the courtyard. As he crossed to the hall he noticed a light burning and wondered who stirred so late. Then he saw that the light came from there begun as little more than a robber-chieftain, with only the most tenuous claim to royal blood. By dint of iron will and unrelenting savagery he had forged a small but solid kingdom. Fighting men he had in plenty, and what swords could not do would be handled by the man who sat at Totila's right hand: the wizard Lilma.
Years ago the man had come to Totila, claiming to be from Hyperborea and claiming as well that the destinies of king and wizard were intertwined. Totila would furnish him with protection, and Lilma would strike at those enemies Totila's swords could not reach. The wizard had been as good as his word, and the two had grown fat together, waxing in power and wealth. Totila never stayed content for long, though, and each victory, each kinglet swallowed up, caused his appetite to grow along with his power.
'I would know how it fares with Alcuina, wizard,' said the king. Below him, on benches at the long tables, his warriors ate and drank, their mood subdued in recognition of their lord's brooding spirits.
'As my lord wishes,' Lilma said. 'I shall go and prepare the pool. My messengers have told me'—he waved toward a pair of large magpies that perched on the back of his chair—'that she returns to her hall this day, after touring her lands.'
The white-bearded man arose. The skins of reindeer draped him, and the antlers of that beast crowned his headdress. Bones and skulls of small animals rattled on strings about him, and the feathers, claws, and beaks of many birds adorned his crude garments. He took his curiously-wrought staff from its place by the chair and walked rattling from the room. The magpies hopped after him, and conversations stilled as he passed. All
men feared the wizard almost as much as they feared the king.
Totila sat for a while in desultory conversation with his counsellors, but his mind was elsewhere. In time, he took his helmet from atop the comer post of his chair. It was the most famous helmet in the realm, and he wore it even when no battle portended, in lieu of a crown. It was of bronze plated with gold and silver, and its hook-beaked nasal was flanked by a pair of lowering silver eyebrows. Long cheek pieces framed his face, and strips of silvered bronze wrought in the semblance of feathers dangled behind to protect his neck. Embossed upon plates of silver, a file of warriors encircled me crown, and above all brooded the fierce eagle-crest, its eyes glaring feral hate, beak agape for prey.
With the helmet settled upon his head, Totila donned a cloak. It hung from his huge shoulders to drag on the ground, its colours curiously piebald. This cloak was entirely made of the scalps of men Totila had slain with his own hand, and not one of them lower in rank than champion. He picked up his great sword and carried it by the sheath as he strode from the hall. Crown and sceptre meant nothing in the North. Helmet, cloak. and sword spelled kingship in runes the savage Northerners could read.
King Totila's hall was encircled by no wall or palisade. It was his boast that he feared no king enough to bother with such defences. His warriors were wall enough far him, he claimed. He strode past the tilled fields his thralls toiled away their lives to raise the for the free men's bread and ale. Grain was practically the only crop grown in the North. For the a of their food, they depended upon their livestock, e beasts of the forest, and the fish in their streams. A race of meat eaters, the northerners despised free men who would work upon the land as men did in the South, and taste meat only once or twice in a year.
Taking a little-used forest path, Totila soon reached a small grove, which was warm despite the surrounding cold. The wizard Lilma wielded great power over the forces of nature. In the midst of the grove was a small pool, fed by no visible stream, and from which no stream flowed. It never froze, no matter how bitter the weather beyond the grove. Lilma stood by the pond with a magpie perched upon each shoulder. Totila placed himself by the wizard.
'This is what took place earlier in this day,' intoned the mage. He touched the surface of the stream with his staff, and a bright picture appeared with the widening ripples.
Totila watched with absorption. He was now used to these magical displays, although he had been frightened when first he saw one. Gazing down into the pool he saw a file of men marching through a snowy forest, seen from above as if by a flying bird. Ahead of the marching men were other men, more numerous, lying in ambush. His eyes narrowed as the viewpoint lowered, as if the watching bird were descending to a convenient tree the better to see the coming entertainment.
'Those are Alcuina's men,' Totila muttered, 'and she among them. Odoac's warriors lie in wait. Had I known she would be travelling away from home, it would have been my own men there to take her.' He looked at Lilma. 'Why did you not inform me that she would be thus vulnerable?' He did not speak angrily, although he felt much anger. He did not dare offend the wizard, even though he lose a queen. Totila possessed a
capacity to hide his feelings far in excess of the control owned by most northern kings.
'This journey was hidden from me until this day, my lord. I suspect that the wizard Rerin, whom you see riding beside the queen, erected a screen to foil my farseeing eyes on wings.'
Totila snorted non-committally, unsure how seriously to take the wizard's protestations. 'Now they spring the trap!' he said. He watched excitedly as Alcuina's men were surrounded, forming a shield-wall around their queen and preparing to sell their lives at bitter cost. 'They cannot protect her long,' Totila observed as the snow reddened. 'That means I must take her from Odoac.' He gnawed at a nail in annoyance. 'But what if he gets her with child before I kill him? This is an ill business, wizard.'
'Watch what happens now,' the wizard said. As suddenly as it had st
arted, the fighting ceased. Now the viewpoint changed, as if the bird were swivelling its bead. A single man stood on a hillside, and he looked to be shouting, although they could hear nothing.
'What is this?' Totila wondered. 'A youth? Nay, that is a grown warrior, though beardless. What breed is be?'
'From his look,' Lilma said, 'a Cimmerian. They ire a race my nation knows to its cost. They come from mountain country to the west of Hyperborea. Their god is called Crom, and they have no skill of magic, although they are matchless fighters.'
'My own men are matchless fighters,' Totila grumbled, 'and I the most matchless among them. What does such a one here?'
'Observe this. It is most interesting.' They watched one of Odoac's men come to meet the stranger.
'A challenge fight!' Totila said happily. 'That is Agilulf, Odoac's champion. He's a fine swordsman but a loudmouth withal.' They saw the first exchange played out. 'Good fighting on both parts,' Totila said judiciously. 'Now they have each other's measure. The next clash must tell the tale.' They watched the bewildering flurry of blows, and Totila slapped his thigh in delight. 'You spoke true words, wizard! That one is a warrior of rare skill.'
The rest of the combat was played out for their enjoyment; then they saw the bodies loaded and watched as the stranger mounted and rode off with Alcuina's escort. Then there was nothing but the stiff forms of Odoac's men, the reddened ground, and the gently falling snow. The picture in the water faded.
'So, Alcuina has a new champion,' Totila said, tugging at his beard. 'I may just have to try that one myself. It has been many years since I have found a man worthy of my steel. Besides,' he mused, looking down at his cloak, 'black is the only colour missing from my cloak of chiefs' hair. Such a mane as that rogue sports will make a collar better than a wolf's
winter coat.'
'With that brute among her guard,' Lilma said, 'Alcuina will be more difficult than ever to possess. Why do you not forget her for the moment and move against Odoac? He lost many men this day and is weaker than ever.'
Totila thought for a moment. 'No, it is as have told you before, wizard. When I move south, it shall be in a great push that shall take me to the borders of Zamora and Turan. shall swallow up Odoac and his tribe like a fish snapping up an insect upon the water.'
Lilma knew that these dreams far exceeded even the abilities of a man like Totila. The North simply did not contain enough men to hold so much territory for more than a few years. Still, he wanted to make Totila the greatest king of the North. That much he could assure. 'If my lord wishes, I have command of certain spells. They are spells that will make use of allies I can cause to do my bidding. My servants are the frost giants of the North, and the dead who lie stiff beneath the snows.'
'I care not how you go about it,' Totila said, not wanting to hear more. 'Just see to it. If you pave the way for me to take that woman and make her my queen, I'll reward you well, as always.'
'So my lord shall,' Lilma said. 'Now, return to the hill and feast with your warriors. I shall be busy here Ac rest of the night and tomorrow and tomorrow night. Then, we shall see.'
Totila left to make his way back to the hall. Behind Mm Lilma stirred the waters with his staff and began a , eerie chant. Outside the grove, the weather grew
IV
Battle with the Dead
When morning came, Conan woke as the hall door opened, admitting a cold wind and a near-frozen sentry. The man shut the door and ran to the hearth, where he held blued arms over the warm ashes of last night's fire. Conan rose, wide awake as always when not sodden with drink. The others in the hall roused from sleep in a more leisurely fashion, groaning and scratching. Indeed, on so cold a morning it was a hard task to rise at all.
Conan went to the hearth, wondering that a hardened northerner could be so affected by a few hours' sentry-go in the night. 'Good morning, Regin,' Conan said. 'Is it so cold out there?'
Through chattering teeth, the man managed to say, 'Go look for yourself!'
Conan went to the door and threw it open. 'Crom's teeth!' He slammed it shut again. Snow was blowing on the wind, and the wind was as cold as any Conan had ever felt in all his years in the Northlands. The loud crack of trees splitting echoed in the distance. A fur-swathed form came to stand by him.
'Open the door,' Alcuina ordered peremptorily. Conan obeyed.
The woman stepped through, and Conan was forced to marvel at the way she stood in the stern wind without making the slightest sign of discomfort.
She turned back to the hall and called in a commanding voice, 'Get up, you lazy sluggards! We must see to the livestock or they shall all freeze. Build up the fires, and get all the spare hangings on the walls!' She beckoned to her steward and the man came running, pulling up his trews. 'Aslauf, get all the stock you can into the stables with plenty of fodder. We cannot afford lose a single horse or cow. Get all the fowl into the stables or the sheds as well. If need be we'll move any beasts that have no place else into the hall with us until this weather breaks. Better to put up with the smell and fee mess than a winter of hunger.'
'Yes, Alcuina,' the steward said, and he hurried ff. calling the names of the boys and the thralls who had charge of the stock.
The queen turned to Conan and beckoned. 'Come, ranger, we must see whether the old man is well.'
For a moment Conan did not understand who she then he remembered the old wizard, Rerin. 'A at,' he said, and rushed back into the hall. He emerged, buckling on his sword.
'Why do you need that?' she demanded.
'You hired me for my sword, lady,' he said with an grin. 'I am of precious little use to you with-
led the way to the little hut near the stone wall, admired the way her hair, now braided into a single plait thick as a maiden's arm, swayed with her purposeful stride. The shape of her body was a complete mystery beneath the swathing gown and fur robe, but her carriage was light and graceful.
'The old man was awake late last night,' Conan told her.
'How do you know that?'
'I came out after everyone else was abed and spoke awhile with the gate sentry. As I returned I saw a light in his window.'
'He works in my behalf most of his waking hours,' she said. 'Unlike warriors, who fight once in a great while and spend the rest of their time gorging my food, and swilling my ale, and bragging of their feats.'
Conan smiled mirthlessly. This one did not yield an inch. He rapped on the door of the hut, and it was opened almost immediately. The old wizard looked as though he had had no sleep, but he seemed to be strong and alert.
He nodded to Conan and turned to Alcuina. 'Come inside. I have unwelcome news.'
Alcuina entered and so, unbidden, did Conan. She turned on him.
'Wait without. Who bade you come in?'
'I'm accursed if I'll freeze my backside out there while you warm yours at the wizard's fire, lady. You have hired a warrior, not a lackey.' He folded his arms and leaned against the door jamb. She grew red in the face and seemed on the point of loosing a scathing tongue-assault when the wizard touched her shoulder.
'Let him stay, Alcuina. I think this outlander may be of great use to us in the trials we face.' The queen instantly quieted.
'Very well,' she said. She paid no further attention
to Conan. 'What means this sudden onslaught by the frost giants? It is unnatural.'
'Unnatural, indeed, my lady. I am sure that it has been cast upon us by our enemy, Lilma.'
'Who is Lilma?' Conan asked. The name sounded vaguely Hyperborean to him. He had never had pleasant dealings with that race.
The queen turned on him with stormy brow, but once again Rerin quieted her with a gesture. 'He is a wizard, young man. He works evil magic for King Totila of the Tormanna. Last night, as I left the hall after the feasting, I could smell his magic in the air. I searched the sky, but I saw no sign of his magpie-familiars. I knew then that his work was in the very air all around. I went to my house, and all night I have sought the mure of his
working.'
'What have you discovered?' asked Alcuina.
Conan leaned against the jamb, deeply troubled. He Ad not like it when sorcerers were at work. This old man's cottage was filled with things that disturbed the Cimmerian. Bundles of dried herbs dangled from the of-posts. Small, stuffed animals that were not native North, instruments of bronze and glass that were manufacture he did not recognise lay scattered
'He has been rousing the frost giants, as you can for yourself. Beyond that, he is up to some that I cannot fathom yet.' 'Does he hope to weaken us by freezing our stock supplying our people?'
'I do not see how that can be,' said the old man. 'the cold must be afflicting Totila's folk fully as our own. I fear that there is something far colder in store for us.'
Alcuina rose and turned to go. 'I must go see to the garth, Rerin. We must be ready before another such night comes upon us. I want you in the hall with the rest tonight. So long as there are evil things abroad at night, I want none of my people sleeping without the walls.'
'But, Alcuina, if I am to serve you properly I must—'
'Inside tonight,' she said in a voice brooking no dispute. The old man bowed assent.
With Conan following, the queen strode outdoors into the teeth of the wind and began giving orders. The Cimmerian grudgingly admitted to himself that she commanded as well as any professional soldier he had ever seen. While the stock were being seen to, and fuel and fodder gathered, Conan was ordered to mount and was sent out with three others, one of several bands whose task it was to seek out and report on the outlying garths and steadings, and the tiny villages in the forest clearings, who owned Alcuina as their queen. They were to ride as far as they could, while leaving themselves time to return before nightfall.
It was a long and cold ride, over snowy hills and through dark forests. Here and there they saw the stiff forms of small woodland animals, caught in the open during the night.
The Conan Chronology Page 334
