The Conan Compendium

by Robert E. Howard

  "Mitra!" Elashi said.

  The water now stood below Conan's knees. He increased his pace, to reach the shore before the eyeless white creatures would arrive. Elashi relaxed her hold upon Conan and reached for her sword. Conan drew his own weapon as the two of them attained the drier, but still damp stone floor.

  "Perhaps they are friendly," Elashi said. She did not sound particularly convinced.

  "Perhaps," Conan said. "But let us keep our blades ready in case they are not."

  She did not argue with that.

  The blind white creatures moved closer.

  The Harskeel was enraged: six of its men dead, two more dying, and another three wounded badly enough to require that they quit the chase. Only nine remained uninjured after slaying the hellish beast that had attacked them. The barbarian and the woman had escaped; night staked its claim to the day even as the Harskeel had its troops lay a rough camp. Damnation! The quarry had been within their grasp! Now they would have to wait until first light to proceed―who knew if the slain monster had a mate or kin in the hills?―and the Harskeel would bet gold against goat dung that Conan and the female with him would not dally, awaiting their pursuers. By the Nameless and all of its furry minions! Knowing there was nothing to be done for it decreased the Harskeel's rage not one whit.

  Wikkell was weakening the cave roof for yet another pitfall trap when one of the Blind Whites ran into the chamber and skittered to a stop against the heavy ladder upon which the cyclops stood precariously balanced.

  "Idiot!" Wikkell yelled as the ladder swayed.

  The Blind White chittered something in its own language, a tongue that Wikkell had been required to learn in order to perform his duties for Katamay Rey.

  "What? What are you babbling about?"

  The creature repeated its hastily blurted speech, and this time Wikkell was able to make sense of it. The man, the one they sought, had fallen into the trap below the pass's summit!

  Wikkell hastened to scramble down the ladder. Success, and so soon! The wizard would be pleased. "Do you have him?"

  The Blind White assured Wikkell that this was so. Ten of his brothers surrounded the trapped man and would doubtless already be bearing him to one of the lock chambers in the Whites' main cave.

  "Good, good!" With that, Wikkell shuffled off after the Blind White to fetch his quarry.

  Deek heard the tale from a leathery-brown Bloodbat, who swooped down to perch on a stalagmite nearby. Deek did not particularly trust the bats, since they were always willing to switch allegiance to whomever offered the most reward; still, at the moment the monkey-sized bats seemed prone to work for Chuntha… after the generous offer of breeding space.

  Deek dragged that portion of himself that passed for a vocal apparatus over the rock. "A-are y-y-you s-sure?"

  Certain, the bat affirmed. A pair of blood-filled humans had fallen into One Eye's traps: a large and likely delicious meaty one, and a smaller tidbit.

  Deek agitated his scraper back and forth rapidly. "Wh-what h-h-happened to th-the m-m-men?"

  As to that, the bat did not know for certain. The report from the overflier was that the two succulent morsels had been surrounded by a large group of the Blind Whites, intent on their capture.

  "D-damn!"

  Deek twisted his bulk and began undulating along the floor. If One Eye had the men, Deek was a prime candidate for the lime pit. Not a pleasant fate. He had to do something, and quickly! The Webspinner Plants were thick in this portion of the cave system. Perhaps he could enlist their aid. He must do something, in order to continue his existence. Without the one the witch sought, Deek's life was worth less than the guano beneath that wretched and stupid bat!

  The first of the eyeless white things sprang, less carefully than it should have. They were definitely not friendly, Conan decided as he sidestepped and swung his sword in a flat horizonal arc. The end of the blade tore through the creature's side, cutting it very nearly in twain. It continued its leap past Conan and fell into the pool behind the man. The blood was red enough, even in the dying light; ruby stained the cold ripples.

  The rest of the attackers moved more cautiously.

  When Conan edged forward, they gave ground, spreading out to try and surround the Cimmerian and Elashi.

  Then Conan noticed an odd thing. As the light from above faded, he saw an eerie greenish glow coming from the walls and ceiling of the chamber; it was a ghostly pale luminescence, but sufficient for the Cimmerian's sharp eyes to see clearly.

  The surrounding creatures seemed in no hurry to move, and Conan decided that 'twould be better if he and Elashi departed. He said so.

  "And how are we to accomplish that? Fly over them?"

  "Nay," Conan said, taking a firmer grip on his sword's haft. "Not over, but through. There are only three of them blocking the way. You take the one on the right and I shall clear the other two from the path. On my signal."

  Elashi sighed, licked her lips, and nodded.

  "Now!"

  With that, the two of them leaped at the three startled creatures. Elashi's target simply turned and ran, while Conan's both emitted startled growls and crashed into each other in their efforts to get out of his way. There came the sound of bone meeting bone as their skulls connected. They fell, and Conan sprang over them and found himself running next to Elashi.

  "That was not so difficult," Elashi said.

  Conan managed a grunt but saved the rest of his breath for running.

  Into the depths of the glowing tunnel they fled, pursued by the rest of the chittering creatures.

  Wikkell stood over the floating corpse of the Blind White, staring at it. He blinked his single pink eye, then turned to the two Blind Whites who sat on the cold floor rubbing at lumps on their heads.

  "What happened to the men?" Wikkell finally asked.

  The two Whites babbled. The things were monsters, they said. They chopped down one of the brothers with giant claws―you could hear the whistle as they swung their weapons!―and sought to rend us likewise! We stood in their path and they hurled us aside like you would brush a spider away! We fought valiantly but were overcome by the power of the monsters…

  "Enough," Wikkell said. "You let them escape."

  But our brothers pursue, the two said.

  "You had better pray they catch them," Wikkell said. "If those humans escape, it will be my life. Before I go, I will take you and as many of your brothers as I can with me!"

  Upon them the curses of ten thousand demons! Wikkell moved down the tunnel into which the men had fled. He already knew that the witch had sent one of her fat worms wiggling this way to fetch his quarry. If she got it, he would spend the rest of his life waiting for the wizard's curse that would convert him to melting ooze. Not that the wait would be all that long. He had to capture the man Rey desired, no two ways about it.

  Deek emerged into the wide section of the tunnel and observed with his hidden eyes the form of a dead Blind White bobbing in the pool beneath the opening to the sky.

  The bat who had spoken to him earlier spiraled down and landed upon the corpse, which promptly sank. The bat squawked and lifted, to alight once again on the edge of the pond.

  "D-d-don't b-b-bother," Deek said. "Th-that o-one's b-blood is m-m-mostly g-gone."

  Well, something was better than nothing, the bat said. If the mighty Deek would help fetch the tidbit in the water, why, then the bat would tell him something interesting.

  The mighty Deek's anger flared, and for a moment he considered dropping a coil onto the bat and reducing it to a mashed blood spot upon the floor. The image of the lime pit intruded, and he thought better of it. Raising his tail and snapping it down sharply, Deek slapped the water behind the dead Blind White. The splash hurled the body and half of the pond's water into the air. When the dead creature landed, the Bloodbat was on it in an instant, stabbing the pointed tube through which it fed into the cooling corpse.

  "Y-y-you h-had s-s-something t-to t-tell m-me?" Deek scra
ped from the rock as he loomed over the bat.

  The creature jerked its feeding tube from the body; blood dripped from the angled tip. Oh, yes, it said. Those two humans Deek wanted? Well, they had escaped from the Blind Whites and One Eye. They went that way.

  Deek could not believe his good fortune. Escaped? That meant there was still a chance that he could capture them! Filled with sudden hope, Deek slid away at full crawl. Mayhap he could escape the lime pit after all!

  In his chamber, Katamay Rey waited for word of the man's capture. He had thought to have Wikkell dispatch the man immediately, but on rethinking it, decided that perhaps it would be wiser to question the captive. Likely as not, a single person could not cause all the grief the wizard had foreseen in his crystal. More likely the man represented another magician, or perhaps some army; better to keep him alive long enough to ascertain the truth. Then he could kill him. And there were some spells that called for human blood and body parts, of course; so he would not be wasted. The wizard smiled at his cleverness. Soon this little incident would be finished and he could get back to the business of grinding That Bitch into well-deserved oblivion.

  Chuntha touched the dreaming jewel, a fire-filled ruby, to various parts of her body, groaning with the pleasure it gave. The gem did not tell her when Deek would return with the captives, but it did say that there would be more than one involved in this matter. Chuntha beheld blurry images of another; perhaps two or three more. That boded ill. One was bad enough. She must take care to be certain that the wizard did not come by this knowledge.

  She smiled into the putrid phosphor enveloping her. The one central to this business was a man of great physical power, the jewel told her. Young and strong and vibrant, alive with raw male energy, he would be a welcome treat after the recent months of drought. To lie with one such as the jewel bespoke would add greatly to her power. The Sensha would wrap them in its embrace, and the man's being would flow into hers, physically and spiritually. It promised to be the most exciting encounter in quite some time. Chuntha could hardly wait!

  Meanwhile, along corridors lined with rocky teeth above and below, Conan and Elashi sprinted, trying to lose their pursuers. As they ran, they descended deeper into the earth; around them, the air grew colder.

  High above, night draped its ebon cloak over the land, but it mattered not the least in the fungus-lined depths of the cave that seemed to have no end.

  * * *

  Five

  The morning sun cast its light over the mountain trail, the beams bright but offering little heat in the clear wintry air. The Harskeel watched from horseback as one of its men leaned over the hole in the ground. Two other men held the first's feet as he dangled into the pit. After a moment the two supporters pulled the man up. He stood and faced the Harskeel.

  "There be a cave under the trail, m'lord. Big 'un. The tracks end at the edge, so it looks like the two of 'em fell in. Pretty long drop down there. There be water at the bottom."

  The Harskeel shifted on its saddle, eliciting a creak from the stiff leather. "No sign of them?"

  "Nay, m'lord."

  "Could they have survived the drop? Is the water deep enough to ensure that?"

  The man shook his head. "Can't say, m'lord."

  The Harskeel nodded at the two men behind the speaker, gesturing with a small jerk of its head, pointing into the pit with its nose. They understood. Before the speaker could gather his wits, the other two stepped forward and shoved him. He stumbled and pitched over the edge of the pit, screaming. Came a splash; then, after a moment, a curse.

  "Hmm," the Harskeel said. "It seems as if they could have survived such a fall. Very well. They are likely alive then. We shall construct ladders and torches. They are down there, and so shall we go likewise."

  The men looked nervous at this suggestion, but the Harskeel did not care. It felt certain. This Conan was the one to supply the ingredient to lift the spell. Oh, to be two again!

  "Be quick about it," the Harskeel ordered.

  An hour later a makeshift ladder was lowered into the cave. Leaving a single man to watch the horses, the Harskeel and its remaining troops descended into the pit.

  The blind followers were persistent but not nearly as fleet of foot as Conan and Elashi. While the Cimmerian and the desert woman had not lost their pursuers, they had gained a considerable lead as they ran through the twists and turns of the cavern's corridors. Thus far they had been fortunate not to have fled down a dead end or into a tube that narrowed so much as to forbid passage.

  With the last turning, however, their luck seemed to expire. At the end of the corridor were two passages; the one on the right narrowed almost immediately, so that they would have to crawl down it. The passage to the left was larger, but a thundering waterfall obscured one wall of that tunnel, and the water gathered in what appeared to be deep pools beneath the cascade, blocking the path. Recalling Elashi's swimming abilities, it did not look to be a promising route.

  "We had better go back to the last turning," Elashi said, voicing Conan's thought.

  "Too late," he said. "Even now the floor vibrates with their footsteps." He unsheathed his sword. "It appears we must take our stand here."

  Elashi nodded and drew her sword. She and Conan stood side by side, waiting for the white beasts.

  "This way," came a man's voice over the sound of the cataract.

  Conan spun around. He saw no one.

  "Here," came the voice again.

  Squinting into the left-hand corridor, Conan was startled to see a man's hand emerge from the near side of the waterfall. The hand beckoned. "Hurry!" the voice said.

  Conan and Elashi glanced at each other. They had little to lose. Even so, the big Cimmerian approached the roaring water cautiously, finding that the deep pool in the center of the corridor was bounded by a shallow ledge. Once he attained the spot where he had seen the hand, Conan leaped through, his blade held ready to strike.

  Behind the waterfall, which was wide but shallower than it had appeared, a short, thick-set man stood, illuminated by the green glow of the ubiquitous wall fungus. Old he was, perhaps fifty, with a gray beard and long, matted gray hair under a limp hat. His clothes were soggy cloth breeches and shirt, and crude sandals, and he held a long dagger at the ready. Behind the man lay a high corridor, winding away for a long distance.

  Elashi splashed through behind Conan, water spray ing from her form. As soon as she looked up, the older man gestured with his head down the corridor. Conan needed no prompting to understand. They followed the stranger away from the waterfall.

  Around two turns of the corridor, the man stopped. "Them Blind Whites can't hear us through the noise of the waterfall, and they can't smell nothin' past the water, neither. They won't come this way."

  "We thank you for your aid," Conan said.

  "Tull, I'm called," the old man said.

  "Well met, and timely, Tull. I'm Conan, of Cimmeria, and this is Elashi, of Khauran." The Cimmerian paused, then asked, "What is this place, friend?"

  "That'll take some time for the tellin'."

  Conan looked around. "It seems that we have little else."

  "I have a hiding place not far from here," Tull said. "Suppose we go there and I'll explain what I know."

  Conan and Elashi nodded. Tull moved off, and they followed.

  Wikkell ducked to avoid a crusty stalagtite dangling from the low ceiling. His Blind White guide stopped, cocked his head to one side, then turned to the cyclops. The guide chattered. His fellows were returning, it seemed. They approached from down the corridor and would be upon them momentarily.

  Wikkell smiled at that, revealing thick, wide-set teeth. This venture was proving to be easier than he had anticipated. In a moment the Blind Whites would appear―there they were now―and they would be bearing with them―No one!

  Where were the men?

  The leader of the Whites shuffled his feet on the floor. There had been two of them, he said, one a female, judging from her odor.
But they had escaped.

  "Escaped!" Wikkell roared the word as if it were a virulent curse.

  That was so. Vanished into solid rock.

  "Men do not vanish into solid rock," the cyclops said.

  Either that or they walked on water, the leader of the group said. Perhaps they were wizards.

  "Show me. I will see this with my own eye."

  A waste of time, the leader said.

  "It is my time to waste." And, he thought to himself, if the quarry has truly escaped, there will be considerably less time remaining to me than heretofore.

  The cyclops followed the Blind Whites down the corridor.

  The bat alighted upon a rocky fold just ahead of Deek and used its teeth to scratch at something on its left wing strut.

  "W-w-what i-is t-t-the n-n-news-s-s?

  Bad, the bat told the worm. The two men―one a female, so he had learned by listening to that barbaric speech of the Whites―had escaped, vanished, disappeared.

  Deek considered that. It was bad that he did not have the man and woman in his possession; on the other coil, it was good that One Eye did not have them either. Perhaps this affair might be salvaged yet.

  "I-i-is t-t-there a-a-another w-way t-to w-w-where t-the m-m-men v-v-vanished-d-d?" This was a long speech for Deek to scratch out on the rock.

  The bat indicated that this was so.

  "S-sh-show m-m-ine."

  In his chamber, Katamay Rey grew impatient, waiting for news of the man's capture. He rummaged through his collection of crystals, searching for the small blue stone that he used for communication. He would call his cyclops and ask about the delay. Where was that cursed stone?

  In her chamber, Chuntha fumed, awaiting the report from her minion Deek. What could be keeping him? She would give him another hour; then she would try a dreamcast to contact the great white worm. The anticipation of receiving the captive was high in her, and she was not one to suffer delay easily.