rh.conanthewarrior-第12部分

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　　The　pliant　cords　made　no　great　sound　as　they　encountered　the　quivering　body　of　the　captive；　only　a　sharp　crackling　snap；　but　each　cord　left　a　red　streak　across　Yasala's　dark　flesh。　Valeria　inflicted　the　punishment　with　all　the　strength　of　her　war…hardened　arm；　with　all　the　mercilessness　acquired　during　a　life　where　pain　and　torment　were　daily　happenings；　and　with　all　the　cynical　ingenuity　which　only　a　woman　displays　toward　a　woman。　Yasala　suffered　more；　physically　and　mentally；　than　she　would　have　suffered　under　a　lash　wielded　by　a　man；　however　strong。
　　It　was　the　application　of　this　feminine　cynicism　which　at　last　tamed　Yasala。
　　A　low　whimper　escaped　from　her　lips；　and　Valeria　paused；　arm　lifted；　and　raked　back　a　damp　yellow　lock。　〃Well；　are　you　going　to　talk？〃　she　demanded。　〃I　can　keep　this　up　all　night；　if　necessary。〃
　　〃Mercy！〃　whispered　the　woman。　〃I　will　tell。〃
　　Valeria　cut　the　cords　from　her　wrists　and　ankles；　and　pulled　her　to　her　feet。　Yasala　sank　down　on　the　couch；　half　reclining　on　one　bare　hip；　supporting　herself　on　her　arm；　and　writhing　at　the　contact　of　her　smarting　flesh　with　the　couch。　She　was　trembling　in　every　limb。
　　〃Wine！〃　she　begged；　dry…lipped；　indicating　with　a　quivering　hand　a　gold　vessel　on　an　ivory　table。　〃Let　me　drink。　I　am　weak　with　pain。　Then　I　will　tell　you　all。〃
　　Valeria　picked　up　the　vessel；　and　Yasala　rose　unsteadily　to　receive　it。　She　took　it；　raised　it　toward　her　lips…then　dashed　the　contents　full　into　the　Aquilonian's　face。　Valeria　reeled　backward；　shaking　and　clawing　the　stinging　liquid　out　of　her　eyes。　Through　a　smarting　mist　she　saw　Yasala　dart　across　the　room；　fling　back　a　bolt；　throw　open　the　copperbound　door　and　run　down　the　hall。　The　pirate　was　after　her　instantly；　sword　out　and　murder　in　her　heart。
　　But　Yasala　had　the　start；　and　she　ran　with　the　nervous　agility　of　a　woman　who　has　just　been　whipped　to　the　point　of　hysterical　frenzy。　She　rounded　a　corner　in　the　corridor；　yards　ahead　of　Valeria；　and　when　the　pirate　turned　it；　she　saw　only　an　empty　hall；　and　at　the　other　end　a　door　that　gaped　blackly。　A　damp　moldy　scent　reeked　up　from　it；　and　Valeria　shivered。　That　must　be　the　door　that　hed　to　the　catabs。　Yasala　had　taken　refuge　among　the　dead。
　　Valeria　advanced　to　the　door　and　looked　down　a　flight　of　stone　steps　that　vanished　quickly　into　utter　blackness。　Evidently　it　was　a　shaft　that　led　straight　to　the　pits　below　the　city；　without　opening　upon　any　of　the　lower　floors。　She　shivered　slightly　at　the　thought　of　the　thousands　of　corpses　lying　in　their　stone　cypts　down　there；　wrapped　in　their　moldering　cloths。　She　had　no　intention　of　groping　her　way　down　those　stone　steps。　Yasala　doubtless　knew　every　turn　and　twist　of　the　subterranean　tunnels。
　　She　was　turning　back；　baffled　and　furious；　when　a　sobbing　cry　welled　up　from　the　blackness。　It　seemed　to　e　from　a　great　depth；　but　human　words　were　faintly　distinguishable；　and　the　voice　was　that　of　a　woman。　〃Oh；　help！　Help；　in　Set's　name！　Ahhh！〃　It　trailed　away；　and　Valeria　thought　she　caught　the　echo　of　a　ghostly　tittering。
　　Valeria　felt　her　skin　crawl。　What　had　happened　to　Yasala　down　there　in　the　thick　blackness？　There　was　no　doubt　that　it　had　been　she　who　had　cried　out。　But　what　peril　could　have　befallen　her？　Was　a　Xotalanca　lurking　down　there？　Olmec　had　assured　them　that　the　catabs　below　Tecuhltli　were　walled　off　from　the　rest；　too　securely　for　their　enemies　to　break　through。　Besides；　that　tittering　had　not　sounded　like　a　human　being　at　all。
　　Valeria　hurried　back　down　the　corridor；　not　stopping　to　close　the　door　that　opened　on　the　stair。　Regaining　her　chamber；　she　closed　the　door　and　shot　the　bolt　behind　her。　She　pulled　on　her　boots　and　buckled　her　sword…belt　about　her。　She　was　determined　to　make　her　way　to　Conan's　room　and　urge　him；　if　he　still　lived；　to　join　her　in　an　attampt　to　fight　their　way　out　of　that　city　of　devils。
　　But　even　as　she　reached　the　door　that　opened　into　the　corridor；　a　long…drawn　scream　of　agony　rang　through　the　halls；　followed　by　the　stamp　of　running　feet　and　the　loud　clangor　of　swords。
　　
　　
　　　5。　　Twenty　Red　Nails
　　
　　Two　warriors　lounged　in　the　guardroom　on　the　floor　known　as　the　Tier　of　the　Eagle。　Their　attitude　was　casual；　though　habitually　alert。　An　attack　on　the　great　bronze　door　from　without　was　always　a　possibility；　but　for　many　years　no　such　assault　had　been　attempted　on　either　side。
　　〃The　strangers　are　strong　allies；〃　said　one。　〃Olmec　will　move　against　the　enemy　tomorrow；　I　believe。〃
　　He　spoke　as　a　soldier　in　a　war　might　have　spoken。　In　the　miniature　world　of　Xuchotl　each　handful　of　feudists　was　an　army；　and　the　empty　halls　between　the　castles　was　the　country　over　which　they　campaigned。
　　The　other　meditated　for　a　space。
　　〃Suppose　with　their　aid　we　destroy　Xotalanc；〃　he　said。　〃What　then；　Xatmec？〃
　　〃Why；〃　returned　Xatmec；　〃we　will　drive　red　nails　for　them　all。　The　captives　we　will　burn　and　flay　and　quarter。〃
　　〃But　afterward？〃　pursued　the　other。　〃After　we　have　slain　them　all？　Will　it　not　seem　strange　to　have　no　foe　to　fight？　All　my　life　I　have　fought　and　hated　the　Xotalancas。　With　the　feud　ended；　what　is　left？〃
　　Xatmec　shrugged　his　shoulders。　His　thoughts　had　never　gone　beyond　the　destruction　of　their　foes。　They　could　not　go　beyond　that。
　　Suddenly　both　men　stiffened　at　a　noise　outside　the　door。
　　〃To　the　door；　Xatmec！〃　hissed　the　last　speaker。　〃I　shall　look　through　the　Eye…〃
　　Xatmec；　sword　in　hand；　leaned　against　the　bronze　door；　straining　his　ear　to　hear　through　the　metal。　His　mate　looked　into　the　mirror。　He　started　convulsively。　Men　were　clustered　thickly　outside　the　door；　grim；　dark…faced　men　with　swords　gripped　in　their　teeth…and　their　fingers　thrust　into　their　ears。　One　who　wore　a　feathered　headdress　had　a　set　of　pipes　whch　he　set　to　his　lips；　and　even　as　the　Tecuhltli　started　to　shout　a　warning；　the　pipes　began　to　skirl。
　　The　cry　died　in　the　guard's　throat　as　the　thin；　weird　piping　penetrated　the　metal　door　and　smote　on　his　ears。　Xatmec　leaned　frozen　against　the　door；　as　if　paralyzed　in　that　position。　His　face　was　that　of　a　wooden　image；　his　expression　one　of　horrified　listening。　The　other　guard；　farther　removed　from　the　source　of　the　sound；　yet　sensed　the　horror　of　what　was　taking　place；　the　grisly　threat　that　lay　in　that　demoniac　fifing。　He　felt　the　weird　strains　plucking　like　unseen　fingers　at　the　tissues　of　his　brain；　filling　him　with　alien　emotions　and　impulses　of　madness。　But　with　a　soul…tearing　effort　he　broke　the　spell；　and　shrieked　a　warning　in　a　voice　he　did　not　recognize　as　his　own。
　　But　even　as　he　cried　out；　the　music　changed　to　an　unbearable　shrilling　that　was　like　a　knife　in　the　eardrums。　Xatmec　screamed　in　sudden　agony；　and　all　the　sanity　went　out　of　his　face　like　a　flame　blown　out　in　a　wind。　Like　a　madman　he　ripped　loose　the　chain；　tore　open　the　door　and　rushed　out　into　the　hall；　sword　lifted　before　his　mate　could　stop　him。　A　dozen　blades　struck　him　down；　and　over　his　mangled　body　the　Xotalancas　surged　into　the　guardroom；　with　a　long…drawn；　blood…mad　yell　that　sent　the　unwonted　echoes　reverberating。
　　His　brain　reeling　from　the　shock　of　it　all；　the　remaining　guard　leaped　to　meet　them　with　goring　spear。　The　horror　of　the　sorcery　he　had　just　witnessed　was　submerged　in　the　stunning　realization　that　the　enemy　were　in　Tecuhltli。　And　as　his　spearhead　ripped　through　a　dark…skinned　belly　he　knew　no　more；　for　a　swinging　sword　crushed　his　skull；　even　as　wild…eyed　warriors　came　pouring　in　from　the　chambers　behind　the　guardroom。
　　It　was　the　yelling　of　men　and　the　clanging　of　steel　that　brought　Conan　bounding　from　his　couch；　wide　awake　and　broadsword　in　hand。　In　an　instant　he　had　reached　the　door　and　flung　it　open；　and　was　glaring　out　into　the　corridor　just　as　Techotl　rushed　up　it；　eyes　blazing　madly。
　　〃The　Xotalancas！〃　he　screamed；　in　a　voice　hardly　human。　〃They　are　within　the　door！〃
　　Conan　ran　down　the　corridor；　even　as　Valeria　emerged　from　her　chamber。
　　〃What　the　devil　is　it？〃　she　called。
　　〃Techotl　says　the　Xotalancas　are　in；〃　he　answered　hurriedly。　〃That　racket　sounds　like　it。〃
　　With　the　Tecuhltli　on　their　heels　they　burst　into　the　throne　room　and　were　confronted　by　a　scene　beyond　the　most　frantic　dream　of　blood　and　fury。　Twenty　men　and　women；　their　black　hair　streaming；　and　the　white　skulls　gleaming　on　their　breasts；　were　locked　in　bat　with　the　people　of　Tecuhltli。　The　women　on　both　sides　fought　as　madly　as　the　men；　and　already　the　room　and　the　hall　beyond　were　strewn　with　corpses。
　　Olmec；　naked　but　for　a　breech…clout；　was　fighting　before　his　throne；　and　as　the　adventurers　entered；　Tascela　ran　from　an　inner　chamber　with　a　sword　in　her　hand。
　　Xatmec　and　his　mate　were　dead；　so　there　was　none　to　tell　the　Tecuhltli　how　their　foes　had　found　their　way　into　their　citadel。　Nor　was　there　any　to　say　what　had　prompted　that　mad　attempt。　But　the　losses　of　the　Xotalancas　had　been　greater；　their　position　more　desperate；　than　the　Tecuhltli　had　known。　The　maiming　of　their　scaly　ally；　the　destruction　of　the　Burning　Skull；　and　the　news；　gasped　by　a　dying　man；　that　mysterious　white…skin　allies　had　joined　their　enemies；　had　driven　them　to　the　frenzy　of　desperation　and　the　wild　determination　to　die　dealing　death　to　their　ancient　foes。
　　The　Tecuhltli；　recovering　from　the　first　stunning　shock　of　the　surprise　that　had　swept　them　back　into　the　throne　room　and　littered　the　floor　with　their　corpses；　fought　back　with　an　equally　desperate　fury；　while　the　doorguards　from　the　lower　floors　came　racing　to　hurl　themselves　into　the　fray。　It　was　the　deathfight　of　rabid　wolves；　blind；　panting；　merciless。　Back　and　forth　it　surged；　from　door　to　dais；　blades　whickering　and　striking　into　flesh；　blood　spurting；　feet　stamping　the　crimson　floor　where　redder　pools　were　forming。　Ivory　tables　crashed　over；　seats　were　splintered；　velvet　hangings　torn　down　were　stained　red。　It　was　the　bloody　climax　of　a　bloody　half…century；　and　every　man　there　sensed　it。
　　But　the　conclusion　was　inevitable。　The　Tecuhltli　outnumbered　the　invaders　almost　two　to　one；　and　they　were　heartened　by　that　fact　and　by　the　entrance　into　the　melee　of　their　light…skinned　allies。
　　These　crashed　into　the　fray　with　the　devastating　effect　of　a　h