rh.conanthewarrior-第19部分

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of　the　barbarically　magnificent　court。　He　was　a　professional　fighting　man。　In　search　of　employment　（he　said）　he　had　e　to　Keshan。　For　a　price　he　would　train　the　armies　of　Keshan　and　lead　them　against　Punt；　their　hereditary　enemy；　whose　recent　successes　in　the　field　had　aroused　the　fury　of　Keshan's　irascible　king。
　　The　proposition　was　not　so　audacious　as　it　might　seem。　Conan's　fame　had　preceded　him；　even　into　distant　Keshan；　his　exploits　as　a　chief　of　the　black　corsairs；　those　wolves　of　the　southern　coasts；　had　made　his　name　known；　admired　and　feared　throughout　the　black　kingdoms。　He　did　not　refuse　tests　devised　by　the　dusky　lords。　Skirmishes　along　the　borders　were　incessant；　affording　the　Cimmerian　plenty　of　opportunities　to　demonstrate　his　ability　at　hand…to…hand　fighting。　His　reckless　ferocity　impressed　the　lords　of　Keshan；　already　aware　of　his　reputation　as　a　leader　of　men；　and　the　prospects　seemed　favorable。　All　Conan　secretly　desired　was　employment　to　give　him　legitimate　excuse　for　remaining　in　Keshan　long　enough　to　locate　the　hiding　place　of　the　Teeth　of　Gwahlur。　Then　there　came　an　interruption。　Thutmekri　came　to　Keshan　at　the　head　of　an　embassy　from　Zembabwei。
　　Thutmekri　was　a　Stygian；　an　adventurer　and　a　rogue　whose　wits　had　remended　him　to　the　twin　kings　of　the　great　hybrid　trading　kingdom　which　lay　many　days'　march　to　the　east。　He　and　the　Cimmerian　knew　each　other　of　old；　and　without　love。　Thutmekri　likewise　had　a　proposition　to　make　to　the　king　of　Keshan；　and　it　also　concerned　the　conquest　of　Punt…which　kingdom；　incidentally；　lying　east　of　Keshan；　had　recently　expelled　the　Zembabwan　traders　and　burned　their　fortresses。
　　His　offer　outweighed　even　the　prestige　of　Conan。　He　pledged　himself　to　invade　Punt　from　the　east　with　a　host　of　black　spearmen；　Shemitish　archers；　and　mercenary　swordsmen；　and　to　aid　the　king　of　Keshan　to　annex　the　hostile　kingdom。　The　benevolent　kings　of　Zembabwei　desired　only　a　monopoly　of　the　trade　of　Keshan　and　her　tributaries…and；　as　a　pledge　of　good　faith；　some　of　the　Teeth　of　Gwahlur。　These　would　be　put　to　no　base　usage；　Thutmekri　hastened　to　explain　to　the　suspicious　chieftains；　they　would　be　placed　in　the　temple　of　Zembabwei　beside　the　squat　gold　idols　of　Dagon　and　Derketo；　sacred　guests　in　the　holy　shrine　of　the　kingdom；　to　seal　the　covenant　between　Keshan　and　Zembabwei。　This　statement　brought　a　savage　grin　to　Conan's　hard　lips。
　　The　Cimmerian　made　no　attempt　to　match　wits　and　intrigue　with　Thutmekri　and　his　Shemitish　partner；　Zargheba。　He　knew　that　if　Thutmekri　won　his　point；　he　would　insist　on　the　instant　banishment　of　his　rival。　There　was　but　one　thing　for　Conan　to　do：　find　the　jewels　before　the　king　of　Keshan　made　up　his　mind；　and　flee　with　them。　But　by　this　time　he　was　certain　that　they　were　not　hidden　in　Keshia；　the　royal　city；　which　was　a　swarm　of　thatched　huts　crowding　about　a　mud　wall　that　enclosed　a　palace　of　stone　and　mud　and　bamboo。
　　While　he　fumed　with　nervous　impatience；　the　high　priest　Gorulga　announced　that　before　any　decision　could　be　reached；　the　will　of　the　gods　must　be　ascertained　concerning　the　proposed　alliance　with　Zembabwei　and　the　pledge　of　objects　long　held　holy　and　inviolate。　The　oracle　of　Alkmeenon　must　be　consulted。
　　This　was　an　awesome　thing；　and　it　caused　tongues　to　wag　excitedly　in　palace　and　beehive　hut。　Not　for　a　century　had　the　priests　visited　the　silent　city。　The　oracle；　men　said；　was　the　Princess　Yelaya；　the　last　ruler　of　Alkmeenon；　who　had　died　in　the　full　bloom　of　her　youth　and　beauty；　and　whose　body　had　miraculously　remained　unblemished　throughout　the　ages。　Of　old；　priests　had　made　their　way　into　the　haunted　city；　and　she　had　taught　them　wisdom。　The　last　priest　to　seek　the　oracle　had　been　a　wicked　man；　who　had　sought　to　steal　for　himself　the　curiously　cut　jewels　that　men　called　the　Teeth　of　Gwahlur。　But　some　doom　had　e　upon　him　in　the　deserted　palace；　from　which　his　acolytes；　fleeing；　had　told　tales　of　horror　that　had　for　a　hundred　years　frightened　the　priests　from　the　city　and　the　oracle。
　　But　Gorulga；　the　present　high　priest；　as　one　confident　in　his　knowledge　of　his　own　integrity；　announced　that　he　would　go　with　a　handful　of　followers　to　revive　the　ancient　custom。　And　in　the　excitement　tongues　buzzed　indiscreetly；　and　Conan　caught　the　clue　for　which　he　had　sought　for　weeks…the　overheard　whisper　of　a　lesser　priest　that　sent　the　Cimmerian　stealing　out　of　Keshia　the　night　before　the　dawn　when　the　priests　were　to　start。
　　Riding　as　hard　as　he　dared　for　a　night　and　a　day　and　a　night；　he　came　in　the　early　dawn　to　the　cliffs　of　Alkmeenon；　which　stood　in　the　southwestern　corner　of　the　kingdom；　amidst　uninhabited　jungle　which　was　taboo　to　the　mon　men。　None　but　the　priests　dared　approach　the　haunted　vale　within　a　distance　of　many　mailes。　And　not　even　a　priest　had　entered　Alkmeenon　for　a　hundred　years。
　　No　man　had　ever　climbed　these　cliffs；　legends　said；　and　none　but　the　priests　knew　the　secret　entrance　into　the　valley。　Conan　did　not　waste　time　looking　for　it。　Steeps　that　balked　these　black　people；　horsemen　and　dwellers　of　plain　and　level　forest；　were　not　impossible　for　a　man　born　in　the　rugged　hills　of　Cimmeria。
　　Now　on　the　summit　of　the　cliffs　he　looked　down　into　the　circular　valley　and　wondered　what　plague；　war；　or　superstition　had　driven　the　members　of　that　ancient　white　race　forth　from　their　stronghold　to　mingle　with　and　be　absorbed　by　the　black　tribes　that　hemmed　them　in。
　　This　valley　had　been　their　citadel。　There　the　palace　stood；　and　there　only　the　royal　family　and　their　court　dwelt。　The　real　city　stood　outside　the　cliffs。　Those　waving　masses　of　green　jungle　vegetation　hid　its　ruins。　But　the　domes　that　glistened　in　the　leaves　below　him　were　the　unbroken　pinnacles　of　the　royal　palace　of　Alkmeenon　which　had　defied　the　corroding　ages。
　　Swinging　a　leg　over　the　rim　he　went　down　swiftly。　The　inner　side　of　the　cliffs　was　more　broken；　not　quite　so　sheer。　In　less　than　half　the　time　it　had　taken　him　to　ascent　the　outer　side；　he　dropped　to　the　swarded　valley　floor。
　　With　one　hand　on　his　sword；　he　looked　alertly　about　him。　There　was　no　reason　to　suppose　men　lied　when　they　said　that　Alkmeenon　was　empty　and　deserted；　haunted　only　by　the　ghosts　of　the　dead　past。　But　it　was　Conan's　nature　to　be　suspicious　and　wary。　The　silence　was　primodial；　not　even　a　leaf　quivered　on　a　branch。　When　he　bent　to　peer　under　the　trees；　he　saw　nothing　but　the　marching　rows　of　trunks；　receding　and　receding　into　the　blue　gloom　of　the　deep　woods。
　　Nevertheless　he　went　warily；　sword　in　hand；　his　restless　eyes　bing　the　shadows　from　side　to　side；　his　springy　tread　making　no　sound　on　the　sward。　All　about　him　he　saw　signs　of　an　ancient　civilization；　marble　fountains；　voiceless　and　crumbling；　stood　in　circles　of　slender　trees　whose　patterns　were　too　symmetrical　to　have　been　a　chance　of　nature。　Forest…growth　and　underbrush　had　invaded　the　evenly　planned　groves；　but　their　outlines　were　still　visible。　Broad　pavements　ran　away　under　the　trees；　broken；　and　with　grass　growing　through　the　wide　cracks。　He　glimpsed　walls　with　ornamental　copings；　lattices　of　carven　stone　that　might　once　have　served　as　the　walls　of　pleasure　pavilions。
　　Ahead　of　him；　through　the　trees；　the　domes　gleamed　and　the　bulk　of　the　structure　supporting　them　became　more　apparent　as　he　advanced。　Presently；　pushing　through　a　screen　of　vine…tangled　branches；　he　came　into　a　paratively　open　space　where　the　trees　straggled；　unencumbered　by　undergrowth；　and　saw　before　him　the　wide；　pillared　portico　of　the　palace。
　　As　he　mounted　the　broad　marble　steps；　he　noted　that　the　building　was　in　far　better　state　of　preservation　than　the　lesser　structures　he　had　glimpsed。　The　thick　walls　and　massive　pillars　seemed　too　powerful　to　crumble　before　the　assault　of　time　and　the　elements。　The　same　enchanted　quiet　brooded　over　all。　The　cat…like　pad　of　his　sandaled　feet　seemed　startingly　loud　in　the　stillness。
　　Somewhere　in　this　palace　lay　the　effigy　or　image　which　had　in　times　past　served　as　oracle　for　the　priests　of　Keshan。　And　somewhere　in　the　palace；　unless　that　indiscreet　priest　had　babbled　a　lie；　was　hidden　the　treasure　of　the　forgotten　kings　of　Alkmeenon。
　　Conan　passed　into　a　broad；　lofty　hall；　lined　with　tall　columns；　between　which　arches　gaped；　their　doors　long　rotted　away。　He　traversed　this　in　a　twilight　dimness；　and　at　the　other　end　passed　through　great　double…valved　bronze　doors　which　stood　partly　open；　as　they　might　have　stood　for　centuries。　He　emerged　into　a　vast　domed　chamber　which　must　have　served　as　audience　hall　for　the　kings　of　Alkmeenon。
　　It　was　octagonal　in　shape；　and　the　great　dome　up　in　which　the　lofty　ceiling　curved　obviously　was　cunningly　pierced；　for　the　chamber　was　much　better　lighted　than　the　hall　which　led　to　it。　At　the　farther　side　of　the　great　room　there　rose　a　dais　with　broad　lapis…lazuli　steps　leading　up　to　it；　and　on　that　dais　there　stood　a　massive　chair　with　ornate　arms　and　a　high　back　which　once　doubtless　supported　a　cloth…of…gold　canopy。　Conan　grunted　explosively　and　his　eyes　lit。　The　golden　throne　of　Alkmeenon；　named　in　immemorial　legendry！　He　weighed　it　with　a　practised　eye。　It　represented　a　fortune　in　itself；　if　he　were　but　able　to　bear　it　away。　Its　richness　fired　his　imagination　concerning　the　treasure　itself；　and　made　him　burn　with　eagerness。　His　fingers　itched　to　plunge　among　the　gems　he　had　heard　described　by　story…tellers　in　the　market　squares　of　Keshia；　who　repeated　tales　handed　down　from　mouth　to　mouth　through　the　centuries…jewels　not　to　be　duplicated　in　the　world；　rubies；　emeralds；　diamonds；　bloodstones；　opals；　sapphires；　the　loot　of　the　ancient　world。
　　He　had　expected　to　find　the　oracle…effigy　seated　on　the　throne；　but　since　it　was　not；　it　was　probably　placed　in　some　other　part　of　the　palace；　if；　indeed；　such　a　thing　really　existed。　But　since　he　had　turned　his　face　toward　Keshan；　so　many　myths　had　proved　to　be　realities　that　he　did　not　doubt　that　the　would　find　some　kind　of　image　or　god。
　　Behind　the　throne　there　was　a　narrow　arched　doorway　which　doubtless　had　been　masked　by　hangings　in　the　days　of　Alkmeenon's　life。　He　glanced　through　it　and　saw　that　it　let　into　an　alcove；　empty；　and　with　a　narrow　corridor　leading　off　from　it　at　right　angles。　Turning