'How is that?' Springald asked.
' 'One of the chiefs just offered me a hundred slaves for Malia. They are much taken by her fairness. She is an exotic item in these parts.'
'You constantly try to provoke me,' she said stonily. 'I choose to ignore it, as usual.'
'You Aquilonians are a humourless folk,' Wulfrede grumbled.
The evening progressed well. The chiefs and warriors were in a good mood, for they had been successful in their warring with neighbouring peoples and had not been raided by pirates or slavers for some time. No traders had ventured to their usually inhospitable coast in a long time, so they had a wealth of things to trade and a great need for the things they could not produce for themselves. For metals and cloth and beads they were happy to trade at a good rate, and they only lamented that the whites desired no slaves, for they were tired of feeding their prisoners. Wulfrede assured them jovially that, when he returned, he would direct some reputable slavers to the Coast of Bones.
As bellies were filled and the brew continued to flow, Conan broached the first part of their business to Ashko, who now rejoiced in a fine necklace of pierced silver beads and a short cloak of scarlet silk, presents from his new friends.
'Tell me, Ashko,' Conan began, 'know you aught of a man somewhat resembling Ulfilo here, who visited this coast
within the last two years? We know he was here once, and he may have returned again. He is a friend of ours, and he has been missing for some time now.'
'The mad one?' said Ashko. 'Had he yellow hair upon his head and face? Such a one was among us for a while, not wishing to trade or to fight, but to journey inland, saying that there was something he sought there. The first time, he fared inland with a hundred men, white and black, and all well armed. Only he and two others returned, wasted almost to ghosts. He promised to come back with many rich presents, and he sailed away with the men he had left to guard his ship.'
Conan was not deceived by the Boranas' present hospitable mood. They were savages and possibly cannibals, and Maran-dos, the brother of Ulfilo and husband of Malia, had been wise enough to arrive with a strong band. They had let him go upon his return because he promised rich gifts.
'And he did indeed return?' Conan pressed.
'He did, with the fine gifts he hand promised. This time he had two hundred men and bumbana, and they disappeared inland once more. We have not seen them since.'
'What are bumbana?' Conan asked, but Springald broke in hastily.
'When did you last see them, my friend Ashko?'
'Perhaps six moons ago, perhaps ten or twelve,' the chief said, shrugging.
'These folk have little sense of the passage of time,' Conan told them. 'There are not true seasons here, just rainy seasons and dry, and often it's hard to distinguish one from the other.'
'That is inconvenient,' Ulfilo said, 'but at least we now know that my brother reached here on his second voyage and was well when he returned inland.'
'Conan,' said Malia, 'ask the chief why he calls Marandos a madman.' Malia was not yet fluent in spoken trade language, and in any case the chief would have felt insulted to be addressed directly by a woman. The Cimmerian translated the question.
'Only the mad trek far to the east,'' Ashko told them.'' Among
us, only witch doctors who wish to gain great power fare thither. Great spirits and demons dwell beyond the eastern mountains, such as drink the blood of all who come near them. There is nothing worth seeking there. On his first trek he returned with nothing but his life, and that was much diminished. He has not returned since that time.' The chief performed an expressive shrug. 'He was mad.'
When the feasting and revelry were over for the night, the ship's company retreated to the camp they had set up on the shore. Guards were posted, for this was not friendly country, whatever the recent appearances. Wulfrede had given stern orders that certain men were to refrain from intoxicating beverages, and these had first watch. There was grumbling among them, but they knew better than to defy their captain and were assured that they could drink their fill the next day while the others worked. Thus did the Van maintain both vigilance and peace among his crew.
Before all were bedded down, Conan sought out Ashko, who was yet just sober enough to speak.
'You are still awake and walking upright?' said the chief with a sharp-toothed grin. 'Did we not feed you well enough or supply you with enough drink? Is it a woman you wish now?'
'No, my friend, your hospitality has been overwhelming. Never have I been entertained so splendidly. But, I wished to ask you about something that you said this evening.'
'What was that?' asked the chief. He walked to the great cooking fire and clapped his hands. A woman came running with a pair of gourds and a wooden pitcher of palm wine.
Conan accepted one and drank to show courtesy. 'You used a word which I had never heard before. You said that the madman had returned from the north with men and bumbana. What are these bumbana?'
Ashko displayed astonishment. 'Have you no bumbana in the north? And yet you must, for he had half a score with him when he returned.'
'Perhaps I know them by another name,' Conan said. 'What does this name signify to you?' 'Why, the bumbana are the beast-men, the half-apes who dwell in the mountains far to the east.'
'I see. What sort of ship did he sail in?' 'Ships of the northerners are much alike to me. The first was much like yours. The ship he returned in looked like the first, except that it was all black, even the paddles and the big cloth that catches the wind.'
'One last thing,' Conan said. He squatted next to the fire, look a stick and began to scratch a figure upon the earth. 'Have you ever seen anything like this?'' In the dirt he traced a broad descent moon with its horns pointing upward, enclosing a trident with three wavy tines.
Ashko grunted affirmatively. 'There was a golden figure like that atop the great pole of the black ship.'
VII
The Trek Eastward
The next two days were taken up in trade. The Aquilonians were impatient, but both Conan and Wulfrede cautioned not to rush matters. Besides, more villagers were arriving from the interior and they might turn hostile if the traders were to pack up and leave. On the third evening, they called a meeting of chiefs. After an exchange of compliments and bestowal of presents, they got down to business.
'We wish to travel beyond the eastern mountains,' Conan announced. 'And we will pay handsomely for boats to take us upriver as far as we may go, and for bearers to carry our necessities where we must travel overland. We want at least fifty strong young men. As we use up stores, the bearers may return home in small groups.'
Ashko shook his head. 'We Borana are warriors and do not carry burdens for other men, but some of these chiefs have subjects who may do such work.'
'Why not just buy slaves?' said a chief who had arrived with
a chain of captives, only to be disappointed to find that the merchants wanted no human goods. 'You may work them as you wish and, when they are no longer needed, you may eat them.'
The Aquilonians paled, but Wulfrede broke in smoothly. 'You know as well as I, my friend, that they would always be trying to escape. We cannot guard them all the time, and if they march in chains our progress must be unacceptably slow. No, we must have free, willing men.'
After much palaver a chief agreed to supply them with the men they needed. 'But you must understand,' he said, 'that they will accompany you only as far as the mountains. To climb into them is forbidden, for they are the home of spirits. You must arrange for others to carry your goods further.''
Conan spoke in a low voice. 'You might as well accept these terms, for you'll get no better. These are fierce people, and if they fear those mountains, no amount of bribery will tempt them. We'll have to hope that there are villagers at the foot of the range who are not so chary of the local demons.'
'If we must,' said Ulfilo, tight-lipped.
The bargain was struck and it was agreed that they should set out the ne
xt morning. Upriver natives had arrived in large dugout canoes loaded with ivory and other trade goods. There was ample room in these to carry the men and their belongings. The bearers they would acquire at more distant villages.
'I think,' said Wulfrede when the council was at an end, 'that it would be best if I and most of my crew accompany you upon this journey inland. You might not be able to find the men you need when you get to the mountains, and the loss would leave you weak, indeed.'
'Would that not leave the ship vulnerable?' Ulfilo asked.
'I will leave five or six men to take care of the Sea Tiger. Ashko has agreed to see that she remains unmolested. After all, he and the other chiefs are most anxious that I return safely to send back slavers to trade for their excess stock.'
'Think you that those seamen of yours will take kindly to the
idea of an inland trek among the cannibals to a destination our employers are so reluctant to disclose?' Conan asked suspiciously.
'They fear me,' Wulfrede said, 'and they will obey.'
The next morning the Aquilonians, the Cimmerian, and a score of sour-faced, grumbling mariners filed into the big dugouts.
Conan took the lead craft, along with the Aquilonians and with his suspicions. The black follower had dropped below the horizon as soon as they had reached the Coast of Bones and had not been seen since. He had no doubt that they had not seen the last of the sinister craft or its inhabitants.
'But this river smells foul!' said Malia, twisting her face into a comical grimace as she boarded the dugout. In deference to practicality, she had exchanged her fine gown for a sailor's baggy trousers tucked into the tops of knee-high boots and a belted tunic with sleeves to the wrist. Her fair skin was further protected from the burning tropic sun by a wide straw hat with a shoulder-length veil and silken gloves. She had objected to wearing the stifling clothing in the fierce heat, but Conan had pointed out that, while they were in lowland jungle, biting serpents and stinging insects were likely to be far more dangerous than heat stroke, wild animals, or human enemies.
'Here at the shore,' Springald told her, 'the river deposits all it has collected for hundreds of leagues. As we go upstream, the water should grow cleaner. Am I not right, Conan?'
'Aye,' said the Cimmerian. 'But we'll find little clean water until we reach the mountains. We must drink only from the casks or from such clean springs as we come upon. Those will be few. As for the smell . . .'—he shrugged his massive shoulders—'a smell you will get used to. There are worse things.'
'I just found one of them,' Malia said, disgustedly brushing a many-legged thing from the flaring cuff of her glove. The native paddlers were much amused, for the thing was ugly but harmless, such as they ignored even when it crawled across their naked flesh.
'We will show you the deadly ones,' said Umgako, the leftside bow paddler who set the pace for the others. 'That one just makes a great stink if you squash it.'
'Splendid!' murmured Malia. 'Not only do they sting and bite, but some of them smell even worse than everything else!'
'Cast off!' Conan shouted. All were aboard now and it was lime to put some distance behind them. He had little faith in the heart of the sailors for this venture. They might be brave as lions at sea, but this was not their element, and he knew that most men were likely to panic when subjected to unfamiliar surroundings. They might be tempted to rebel and go back to he ship so long as it was near to them. In the bow of the dugout behind him, the sailor Umu favoured him with an ugly, humourless grin. Conan was confident that there would soon be blows exchanged between himself and the seaman.
The first day's paddling was hot and monotonous. The river was a sluggish one, much fouled by slime, and inhabited by crocodiles in extravagant numbers. In some places it widened into pools where hippos flourished. Malia clapped her gloved hands with delight at sight of the comical-looking animals and the scholar urged the paddlers closer to them for a better look, but the natives baulked, eyeing the beasts warily.
'They are right,' Conan said. 'These are not creatures to trifle with. They frolic like puppies, but in truth they are dangerous, bad-tempered beasts, and they would overturn and crush our canoes should we annoy them. Admire them from a distance, if you will. Soon enough we shall encounter beasts that are deadly and look it.'
The first night, they camped upon the low ground with smoky fires burning to drive the swarming insects away. The jungle pressed close upon them, and the dark hours were clamorous with the cries of predators and prey.
'How do men live in such a place?' Malia asked, gingerly lifting her veil to sip at a bowl of watered wine.
'Few do so by choice,' Springald told her. 'The weaker
peoples are pushed into jungle or desert land by the stronger, who seize the good grazing and farming land.'
'Aye,' Conan said. 'I'll wager when we get into the uplands, we'll find warlike herdsmen who are numerous and well armed.' The Cimmerian was distracted by happenings a few paces away, where the seamen had established their own fire and sat talking in low voices. He could not make out words, but he could tell from their glances and gestures that the men were discussing the lofty personages who sat at his own fire. The rumbling voice of the brutish Umu was unmistakable, and as Conan watched the man, whose glances in his direction had been unmistakably contemptuous, favoured him with an evil grin.
Since coming ashore, Umu's shipboard reticence had given way to open insolence, but the man always stopped just short of giving Conan cause to call him out. Whatever Umu was saying, the others seemed to agree with him. Conan saw crooked teeth exposed as men thumbed the edges of their knives or stroked the shafts of the native spears some of them had acquired. It boded ill to come, but Conan was not sure what prodded them to this behaviour. In this country, it was imperative that the little band stay united.
Whatever the reason, Conan intended to brook no more of it. Better a somewhat reduced company than one in which he could not turn his back on men who were expected to follow his orders. Perhaps a quick, brutal lesson in good manners would be best for all concerned.
The next two days took them deeper inland. Here the jungle grew down to the water line and so overhung the water that they were often in danger from venomous serpents dropping from the branches overhead. From time to time they passed small villages of circular mud huts with conical, straw-thatched roofs. Here the villagers flocked to the riverbank to stare at the strangers. Small children danced with delight to see so odd a sight. These strange, pale creatures looked like ghosts to them, but who ever heard of ghosts showing themselves in the daytime?
The end of the day brought them to a much larger village
situated at the base of a majestic waterfall. The cataract fell in multiple ribbons that coalesced into a vast, foaming spray halfway down a titanic cliff, then smashed to churning foam upon lie jagged black rocks below. A rainbow seemed to hang permanently amid the mist below the fall.
'How beautiful!' Malia exclaimed.
'Aye,' agreed Wulfrede, albeit wryly. ' Tis a fine sight, and that escarpment is going to take some climbing. This is as far as we go by water.'
They were helped ashore and welcomed by the villagers, who set up a joyous chant when they recognised their chief and returning warriors among those in the canoes. The all-pervading mist provided a welcome coolness as the belongings of the expedition were unloaded and carried to a great hut under the direction of the chief, who then assigned other huts for the housing of his visitors. He gave orders and people dashed about, readying a banquet.
'Not more feasting and palavering!' Ulfilo grumbled. 'I want to get on with our mission.'
'We have to select our bearers,' Conan said, 'and I want only the best. We'll need at least until tomorrow afternoon to assemble volunteers and select the ones we want. Believe me, it will save us time later on. Sick or lame men will slow us far more than a little delay here.'
'We shall trust your judgement,' Ulfilo said, still grumbling.
Conan saw S
pringald gazing at the waterfall with the look of a man enraptured.
'What see you in the water, friend?' the Cimmerian asked.
'It is the one! The Giant's Fall! See, just as the Chronicle of the Voyage of Captain Belphormis: it begins in white ribbons, makes a single stream as it falls and ends in mist. Even the perpetual rainbow is exactly as described!'
'Say you so?' Conan said. 'And what else did this ancient captain say about this spot?'
'There was a village here at that time, but the folk were not the same as these. They were the taller, lighter people he mentions meeting near the shore, and he says that they lived in long houses made of logs, not round mud huts.'
'Does this mean that we are anywhere near our destination?'
Conan asked.
'There is still much distance to cover. But it means we are on the right course.'
That evening they looked over the available men in the village, picking out those who looked strongest and most enduring. They found thirty good prospects while runners went to nearby villages to spread the word that the foreigners were offering rich goods to pay for bearers.
After choosing, the leaders of the expedition sat at the feast-fire, talking with the village headmen, asking many questions concerning the land at the top of the escarpment. The natives were able to give them little information, for they seldom ventured thither. The village witch doctor had made treks into the highlands but he adamantly refused to speak of what he had seen, stating that the mountains were cursed for men who had not the proper magic to protect themselves.
As they sat in conversation a strange figure emerged from the tree line. It was a very tall man who was clearly of a race different from the local natives. From shoulder to knees he was wrapped in a robelike garment of red cloth and in his hand he bore a long-handled axe. His hair was stained with ochre and built up into a crest resembling the horsehair crest of a helmet. His skin was of a coppery hue, and he walked slowly, with great dignity.
The Conan Chronology Page 521
