The Conan Chronology

by J. R. Karlsson

  'Not to Kordava. But perhaps to some far clime — to Vendhya, or even Khitai...'

  'Do you not find it tedious here, my lady?' asked Zarono, for the first time addressing himself directly to Belesa.

  Hunger to see a new face and hear a new voice had brought the girl to the great hall that night, but now she wished that she had remained in her chamber with Tina. There was no mistaking the meaning in the glance Zarono turned on her. Although his speech was decorous and formal, his expression sober and respectful, it was but a mask through which gleamed the violent and sinister spirit of the man. He could not keep the burning desire out of his eyes when he looked at the aristocratic young beauty in her low-necked satin gown and jewelled girdle.

  'There is little diversity here,' she answered in a low voice.

  'If you had a ship,' Zarono bluntly asked his host, 'you would abandon this settlement?'

  'Perhaps,' admitted the count.

  'I have a ship,' said Zarono. 'If we could reach an agreement —'

  'What sort of an agreement?' Valenso lifted his head to stare suspiciously at his guest.

  'Share and share alike,' said Zarono, laying his hand on the board with fingers spread wide, like the legs of a giant spider. The fingers quivered with nervous tension, and the buccaneer's eyes gleamed with a new light.

  'Share what?' Valenso stared at him in evident bewilderment. 'The gold I brought with me went down in my ship and, unlike the broken timbers, it did not wash ashore.'

  'Not that!' Zarono made an impatient gesture. 'Let us be frank, my lord. Can you pretend it was chance that caused you to land at this particular spot, with a thousand miles of coast from which to choose?'

  'There is no need to pretend,' answered Valenso coldly. 'My ship's master was Zingelito, formerly a buccaneer. He had sailed this coast and persuaded me to land here, telling me he had a reason he would later disclose. But this reason he never divulged because, the day after he landed, he disappeared into the woods, and his headless body was found later by a hunting party. Obviously he had been ambushed and slain by the Picts.'

  Zarono stared fixedly at Valenso for a space. 'Sink me!' quoth he at last. 'I believe you, my lord. A Korzetta has no skill at lying, regardless of his other accomplishments. And I will make you a proposal. I will admit that, when I anchored out there in the bay, I had other plans in mind. Supposing you to have already secured the treasure, I meant to take this fort by strategy and cut all your throats. But circumstances have caused me to change my mind . . .' He cast a glance at Belesa that brought colour to her face and made her lift her head indignantly, and continued: 'I have a ship to carry you out of exile, with your household and such of your retainers as you shall choose. The rest can fend for themselves.'

  The attendants along the walls shot uneasy, sidelong glances at one another. Zarono went on, too brutally cynical to conceal his attentions: 'But first, you must help me secure the treasure for which I've sailed a thousand miles.'

  'What treasure, in Mitra's name?' demanded the count angrily. 'Now you are yammering like that dog Strombanni.'

  'Have you ever heard of Bloody Tranicos, the greatest of the Barachan pirates?'

  'Who has not? It was he who stormed the island castle of the exiled prince, Tothmekri of Stygia, put the people to the sword, and bore off the treasure the prince had brought with him when he fled from Khemi.'

  'Aye! And the tale of that treasure brought men of the Red Brotherhood swarming like vultures after carrion — pirates, buccaneers, and even the wild black corsairs from the South. Fearing betrayal by his captains, Tranicos fled northward with one ship and vanished from the knowledge of men. That was nearly a hundred years ago.

  'But the tale persists that one man survived that last voyage and returned to the Barachans, only to be captured by a Zingaran war-galley. Before he was hanged, he told his story and drew a map in his own blood, on parchment, which he somehow smuggled out of his captor's reach. This was the tale he told:

  'Tranicos had sailed far beyond the paths of shipping, until he came to a bay on a lonely coast, and there he anchored. He went ashore, taking his treasure and eleven of his most trusted captains, who had accompanied him on his ship. Following his orders, the ship sailed away, to return in a week's time and pick up their admiral and his captains. In the meantime, Tranicos meant to hide the treasure somewhere in the vicinity of the bay. The ship returned at the appointed time, but there was no trace of Tranicos and his eleven captains, except for the rude dwelling they had built on the beach.

  'This had been demolished, and there were tracks of naked feet about it, but no sign there had been any fighting. Nor was there any trace of the treasure, or any sign to show where it was hidden. The pirates plunged into the forest to search for their chief. Having with them a Bossonian skilled in tracking and woodcraft, they followed the signs of the missing men along old trails running some miles eastward from the shore. Becoming weary and failing to catch up with the admiral, they sent one of their number up a tree to spy, and this one reported that not far ahead a great steep-sided crag or dome rose like a tower from the forest. They started forward again, but then were attacked by a party of Picts and driven back to their ship. In despair they heaved anchor and sailed away. Before they raised the Barachas, however, a terrific storm wrecked the ship, and only that one man survived.

  'That is the tale of the treasure of Tranicos, which men have sought in vain for nearly a century. That the map exists is known, but its whereabouts have remained a mystery.

  'I have had one glimpse of that map. Strombanni and Zingelito were with me, and a Nemedian who sailed with the Barachans. We looked upon it in Messantia, where we were skulking in disguise. Somebody knocked over the lamp, and somebody howled in the dark, and when we got the light on again, the old miser who owned the map was dead with a dirk in his heart, and the map was gone, and the night watch was clattering down the street with their pikes to investigate the clamor. We scattered, and each went his own way.

  'For years thereafter, Strombanni and I watched each other, each supposing the other had the map. Well, as it turned out, neither had it; but recently word came to me that Strombanni had departed northward, so I followed him. You saw the end of that chase.

  'I had but a glimpse at the map as it lay on the old miser's table and could tell nothing about it, but Strombanni's actions show that he knows this is the bay where Tranicos anchored. I believe they hid the treasure on or near that great, rocky hill the scout reported and, returning, were attacked and slain by the Picts. The Picts did not get the treasure. Men have traded up and down this coast a little, and no gold ornament or rare jewel has ever been seen in the possession of the coastal tribes.

  'This is my proposal: Let us combine our forces. Strombanni is somewhere within striking distance. He fled because he feared to be pinned between us, but he will return. Allied, however, we can laugh at him. We can work out from the fort, leaving enough men here to hold it if he attacks. I believe the treasure is hidden nearby. Twelve men could not have conveyed it far. We will find it, load it in my ship, and sail for some foreign port where I can cover my past with gold. I am sick of this life. I want to go back to a civilised land and live like a noble, with riches and slaves and a castle — and a wife of noble blood.'

  'Well?' demanded the count, slit-eyed with suspicion.

  'Give me your niece for my wife,' demanded the buccaneer bluntly.

  Belesa cried out sharply and started to her feet. Valenso likewise rose, livid, his fingers knotting convulsively about his goblet as if he contemplated hurling it at his guest. Zarono did not move; he sat still, one arm on the table with the fingers hooked like talons. His eyes smoldered with passion and menace.

  'You dare!' ejaculated Valenso.

  'You seem to forget you have fallen from your high estate, Count Valenso,' growled Zarono. 'We are not at the Kordavan court, my lord. On this naked coast, nobility is measured by the power of men and arms, and there I rank you. Strangers tread Korzetta C
astle, and the Korzetta fortune is at the bottom of the sea. You will die here, an exile, unless I give you the use of my ship.

  'You shall have no cause to regret the union of our houses. With a new name and a new fortune, you will find that Black Zarono can take his place among the aristocrats of the world and make a son-in-law of which not even a Korzetta need be ashamed.'

  'You are mad to think of it!' exclaimed the count violently. 'You — who is that?'

  A patter of soft-slippered feet distracted his attention. Tina came hurriedly into the hall, hesitated when she saw the count's eyes fixed angrily on her, curtsied deeply, and sidled around the table to thrust her small hands into Belesa's fingers. She was panting slightly, her slippers were damp, and her flaxen hair was plastered down on her head.

  'Tina!' exclaimed Belesa anxiously. 'Where have you been? I thought you were in your chamber hours ago.'

  'I was,' answered the child breathlessly, 'but I missed the coral necklace you gave me . . .' She held it up, a trivial trinket, but prized beyond all her other possessions because it had been Belesa's first gift to her. 'I was afraid you wouldn't let me go if you knew. A soldier's wife helped me out of the stockade and back again, and please, my lady, don't make me tell who she was, because I promised not to. I found my necklace by the pool where I bathed this morning. Please punish me if I have done wrong.'

  'Tina!' groaned Belesa, clasping the child to her. 'I'll not punish you, but you should not have gone outside the palisade, with the buccaneers camped on the beach, and always a chance of Picts skulking about. Let me take you to your chamber and change these damp clothes —'

  'Yes, my lady, but first let me tell you about the black man—'

  'What?' The startling interruption was a cry that burst from Valenso's lips. His goblet clattered to the floor as he caught the table with both hands. If a thunderbolt had struck him, the bearing of the lord of the castle coulcUnot have been more horrifyingly altered. His face was livid, his eyes almost starting from his head.

  'What did you say?' he panted, glaring wildly at the child, who shrank back against Belesa in bewilderment. 'What said you, wench?'

  'A b-black man, my lord,' she stammered, while Belesa, Zaronb, and the attendants stared at him in amazement. 'When I went down to the pool to get my necklace, I saw him. There was a strange moaning in the wind, and the sea whimpered like something afraid, and then he came. He came from the sea in a strange, black boat with blue fire playing all about it, but there was no torch. He drew his boat up on the sands below the south point and strode toward the forest, looking like a giant in the fog — a great, tall man, dark like a Kushite —'

  Valenso reeled as if he had received a mortal blow. He clutched at his throat, snapping the golden chain in his violence. With the face of a madman he lurched about the table and tore the child screaming from Belesa's arms.

  'You little slut!' he panted. 'You lie! You have heard me mumbling in my sleep and have told this lie to torment me! Say that you lie before I tear the skin from your back!'

  'Uncle!' cried Belesa in outraged bewilderment, trying to free Tina from his grasp. 'Are you mad? What are you about?'

  With a snarl, he tore her hand from his arm and spun her staggering into the arms of Galbro, who received her with a leer he made little effort to disguise.

  'Mercy, my lord!' sobbed Tina. 'I did not lie!'

  'I say you lied!' roared Valenso. 'Gebellez!'

  The stolid serving-man seized the trembling youngster and stripped her with one brutal wrench that tore her scanty garments from her body. Wheeling, he drew her slender arms over his shoulders, lifting her writhing feet clear of the floor.

  'Uncle!' shrieked Belesa, writhing vainly in Galbro's lustful grasp. 'You are mad! You cannot — oh, you cannot —' The voice choked in her throat as Valenso caught up a jewel-handled riding whip and brought it down across the child's frail body with a savage force that left a red weal across her naked shoulders,

  Belesa moaned, sick with the anguish in Tina's shriek. The world had suddenly gone mad. As in a nightmare, she saw the stolid beast-faces of the soldiers and the servants, reflecting neither pity nor sympathy. Zarono's faintly sneering visage was part of the nightmare. Nothing in that crimson haze was real except Tina's naked white body, crisscrossed with red welts from shoulders to knees; no sound real except the child's sharp cries of agony and the panting gasps of Valenso as he lashed away with the staring eyes of a madman, shrieking:

  'You lie! You lie! Curse you, you lie! Admit your guilt, or I will flay your stubborn body! He could not have followed me here ...'

  'Oh, have mercy, my lord!' screamed the child, writhing vainly on the brawny servant's back and too frantic with fear and pain to have the wit to save herself by a lie. Blood trickled in crimson beads down her quivering thighs. 'I saw him! I lie not! Mercy! Please! Aaah!'

  'You fool! You fool!' screamed Belesa. 'Do you not see she is telling the truth? Oh, you beast! Beast! Beast!'

  Some shred of sanity seemed to return to the brain of Count Valenso of Korzetta. Dropping the whip, he reeled back against the table, clutching blindly at its edge. He shook as with an ague. His hair was plastered across his row in dank strands, and sweat dripped from his livid countenance, which was like a carven mask of Fear. Tina, released by Gebellez, slipped to the floor in a whimpering heap. Belesa tore free from Galbro, rushed to her, sobbing, and fell on her knees. Gathering the pitiful waif in her arms, she lifted a terrible face to her uncle, to pour upon him the vials of her wrath — but he was not looking at her. He seemed to have forgotten both her and his victim. In a daze of incredulity, she heard him say to the buccaneer:

  'I accept your offer, Zarono. In Mitra's name, let us find this accursed treasure and begone from this damned coast!'

  At this, the fire of her fury sank to ashes. In stunned silence, she lifted the sobbing child in her arms and carried her up the stair. A glance backward showed Valenso, crouching at the table, gulping wine from a huge goblet, which he gripped in both shaking hands, while Zarono towered over him like a somber predatory bird — puzzled at the turn of events but quick to take advantage of the shocking change that had come over the count. He was talking in a low, decisive voice, and Valenso nodded in mute agreement, like one who scarcely heeds what is being said. Galbro stood back in the shadows, chin pinched between forefinger and thumb, and the attendants along the walls glanced furtively at one another, bewildered by their lord's collapse.

  Up in her chamber, Belesa laid the half-fainting girl on the bed and set herself to wash and apply soothing ointments to the weals and cuts on her tender skin. Tina gave herself up in complete submission to her mistress's hands, moaning faintly. Belesa felt as if her world had fallen about her ears. She was sick and bewildered, overwrought, her nerves quivering from the brutal shock of what she had witnessed. Fear of and hatred for her uncle grew in her soul. She had never loved him; he was hard, grasping, and avid, apparently without natural affection. But she had considered him just and fearless. Revulsion shook her at the memory of his staring eyes and bloodless face. Some terrible fear had aroused his frenzy, and, because of this fear, Valenso had brutalized the only creature she had to love and cherish. Because of that fear he was selling her, his niece, to an infamous outlaw. What lay behind this madness? Who was the black man Tina had seen?

  The child muttered in semi-delirium: 'I lied not, my lady! Indeed I did not! 'Twas a black man in a black boat that burned like blue fire on the water! A tall man, almost as dark as a Kushite, wrapped in a black cloak! I was afraid when I saw him, and my blood ran cold. He left his boat on the sands and went into the forest. Why did the count whip me for seeing him?'

  'Hush, Tina,' soothed Belesa. 'Lie quietly. The smarting will soon pass.'

  The door opened behind her, and she whirled, snatching up a jewelled dagger. The count stood in the door, and her flesh crawled at the sight. He looked years older; his face was grey and drawn, and his eyes stared in a way that roused fear in her bosom. She
had never been close to him; now she felt as though a gulf separated them. He was not her uncle who stood there, but a stranger come to menace her.

  She lifted the dagger. 'If you touch her again,' she whispered from dry lips, 'I swear before Mitra that I will sink this blade in your breast.'

  He did not heed her. 'I have posted a strong guard about the manor,' he said. 'Zarono brings his men into the stockade tomorrow. He will not sail until he has found the treasure. When he finds it, we shall sail at once for some port to be decided upon.'

  'And you will sell me to him?' she whispered. 'In Mitra's name —'

  He fixed upon her a gloomy gaze in which all considerations but his own self-interest had been crowded out. She shrank before it, seeing in it the frantic cruelty that possessed the man in his mysterious fear.

  'You shall do as I command,' he said presently, with no more human feeling in his voice than there is in the ring of flint on steel. And, turning, he left the chamber. Blinded by a sudden rush of horror, Belesa fell fainting beside the couch where Tina lay.

  IV

  A Black Drum Droning

  Belesa never knew how long she lay crushed and senseless. She was first aware of Tina's arms about her and the sobbing of the child in her ear. Mechanically she straightened herself and drew the child into her arms. She sat there, dry-eyed, staring unseeingly at the flickering candle. There was no sound in the castle. The singing of the buccaneers on the strand had ceased. Dully, almost impersonally she reviewed her problem.

  Valenso was mad, driven frantic by the story of the mysterious black man. It was to escape this stranger that he wished to abandon the settlement and flee with Zarono. That much was obvious. Equally obvious with the fact that he was ready to sacrifice her in exchange for the opportunity to escape. In the blackness of spirit which surrounded her she saw no glint of light. The serving men were dull or callous brutes, their women stupid and apathetic. They would neither dare nor care to help her. She was utterly helpless.