rh.conanthewarrior-第23部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　　Primitive　fears　whispered　at　the　back　of　Conan's　mind。　Was　this　the　work　of　the　priests　of　Keshan？　If　so；　where　were　they？　Was　it　Zargheba；　after　all；　who　had　struck　the　gong？　Again　there　rose　the　memory　of　Bit…Yakin　and　his　mysterious　servants。　Bit…Yakin　was　dead；　shriveled　to　a　hulk　of　wrinkled　leather　and　bound　in　his　hollowed　crypt　to　greet　the　rising　sun　for　ever。　But　the　servants　of　Bit…Yakin　were　unaccounted　for。　There　was　no　proof　they　had　ever　left　the　valley。
　　Conan　thought　of　the　girl；　Muriela；　alone　and　unguarded　in　that　great　shadowy　palace。　He　wheeled　and　ran　back　down　the　shadowed　avenue；　and　he　ran　as　a　suspicious　panther　runs；　poised　even　in　full　stride　to　whirl　right　or　left　and　strike　death　blows。
　　The　palace　loomed　through　the　trees；　and　he　saw　something　else…the　glow　of　fire　reflecting　redly　from　the　polished　marble。　He　melted　into　the　bushes　that　lined　the　broken　street；　glided　through　the　dense　growth　and　reached　the　edge　of　the　open　space　before　the　portico。　Voices　reached　him；　torches　bobbed　and　their　flare　shone　on　glossy　ebon　shoulders。　The　priests　of　Keshan　had　e。
　　They　had　not　advanced　up　the　wide；　overgrown　avenue　as　Zargheba　had　expected　them　to　do。　Obviously　there　was　more　than　one　secret　way　into　the　valley　of　Alkmeenon。
　　They　were　filing　up　the　broad　marble　steps；　holding　their　torches　high。　He　saw　Gorulga　at　the　head　of　the　parade；　a　profile　chiseled　out　of　copper；　etched　in　the　torch　glare。　The　rest　were　acolytes；　giant　black　men　from　whose　skins　the　torches　struck　highlights。　At　the　end　of　the　procession　there　stalked　a　huge　Negro　with　an　unusually　wicked　cast　of　countenance；　at　the　sight　of　whom　Conan　scowled。　That　was　Gwarunga；　whom　Muriela　had　named　as　the　man　who　had　revealed　the　secret　of　the　pool…entrance　to　Zargheba。　Conan　wondered　how　deeply　the　man　was　in　the　intrigues　of　the　Stygian。
　　He　hurried　toward　the　portico；　circling　the　open　space　to　keep　in　the　fringing　shadows。　They　left　no　one　to　guard　the　entrance。　The　torches　streamed　steadily　down　the　long　dark　hall。　Before　they　reached　the　double…valved　door　at　the　other　end；　Conan　had　mounted　the　outer　steps　and　was　in　the　hall　behind　them。　Slinking　swiftly　along　the　column…lined　wall；　he　reached　the　great　door　as　they　crossed　the　huge　throne　room；　their　torches　driving　back　the　shadows。　They　did　not　look　back。　In　single　file；　their　ostrich　plumes　nodding；　their　leopardskin　tunics　contrasting　curiously　with　the　marble　and　arabesqued　metal　of　the　ancient　palace；　they　moved　across　the　wide　room　and　halted　momentarily　at　the　golden　door　to　the　left　of　the　throne…dais。
　　Gorluga's　voice　boomed　eerily　and　hollowly　in　the　great　empty　space；　framed　in　sonorous　phrases　unintelligible　to　the　lurking　listener；　then　the　high　priest　thrust　open　the　golden　door　and　entered；　bowing　repeatedly　from　the　waist　and　behind　him　the　torches　sank　and　rose；　showering　flakes　of　flame；　as　the　worshippers　imitated　their　master。　The　gold　door　closed　behind　them；　shutting　out　sound　and　sight；　and　Conan　darted　across　the　throne…chamber　and　into　the　alcove　behind　the　throne。　He　made　less　sound　than　a　wind　blowing　across　the　chamber。
　　Tiny　beams　of　light　streamed　through　the　apertures　in　the　wall；　as　he　pried　open　the　secret　panel。　Gliding　into　the　niche；　he　peered　through。　Muriela　sat　upright　on　the　dais；　her　arms　folded；　her　head　leaning　back　against　the　wall；　within　a　few　inches　of　his　eyes。　The　delicate　perfume　of　her　foamy　hair　was　in　his　nostrils。　He　could　not　see　her　face；　of　course；　but　her　attitude　was　as　if　she　gazed　tranquilly　into　some　far　gulf　of　space；　over　and　beyond　the　shaven　heads　of　the　black　giants　who　knelt　before　her。　Conan　grinned　with　appreciation。　〃The　little　slut's　an　actress；〃　he　told　himself。　He　knew　she　was　shriveling　with　terror；　but　she　showed　no　sign。　In　the　uncertain　flare　of　the　torches　she　looked　exactly　like　the　goddess　he　had　seen　lying　on　that　same　dais；　if　one　could　imagine　that　goddess　imbued　with　vibrant　life。
　　Gorulga　was　booming　forth　some　kind　of　a　chant　in　an　accent　unfamiliar　to　Conan；　and　which　was　probably　some　invocation　in　the　ancient　tongue　of　Alkmeenon；　handed　down　from　generation　to　generation　of　high　priests。　It　seemed　interminable。　Conan　grew　restless。　The　longer　the　thing　lasted；　the　more　terrific　would　be　the　strain　on　Muriela。　If　she　snapped…he　hitched　his　sword　and　dagger　forward。　He　could　not　see　the　little　trollop　tortured　and　slain　by　black　men。
　　But　the　chant…deep；　low…pitched；　and　indescribably　ominous…came　to　a　conclusion　at　last；　and　a　shouted　acclaim　from　the　acolytes　marked　its　period。　Lifting　his　head　and　raising　his　arms　toward　the　silent　form　on　the　dais；　Gorulga　cried　in　the　deep；　rich　resonance　that　was　the　natural　attribute　of　the　Keshani　priest：　〃O　great　goddess；　dweller　with　the　great　one　of　darkness；　let　thy　heart　be　melted；　thy　lips　opened　for　the　ears　of　thy　slave　whose　head　is　in　the　dust　beneath　thy　feet！　Speak；　great　goddess　of　the　holy　valley！　Thou　knowest　the　paths　before　us；　the　darkness　that　vexes　us　is　as　the　light　of　the　midday　sun　to　thee。　Shed　the　radiance　of　thy　wisdom　on　the　paths　of　thy　servants！　Tell　us；　O　mouthpiece　of　the　gods：　what　is　their　will　concerning　Thutmekri　the　Stygian？〃
　　The　high…piled　burnished　mass　of　hair　that　caught　the　torchlight　in　dull　bronze　gleams　quivered　slightly。　A　gusty　sigh　rose　from　the　blacks；　half　in　awe；　half　in　fear。　Muriela's　voice　came　plainly　to　Conan's　ears　in　the　breathless　silence；　and　it　seemed　cold；　detached；　impresonal；　though　he　winced　at　the　Corinthian　accent。
　　〃It　is　the　will　of　the　gods　that　the　Stygian　and　his　Shemitish　dogs　be　driven　from　Keshan！〃　She　was　repeating　his　exact　words。　〃They　are　thieves　and　traitors　who　plot　to　rob　the　gods。　Let　the　Teeth　of　Gwahlur　be　placed　in　the　care　of　the　general　Conan。　Let　him　lead　the　armies　of　Keshan。　He　is　beloved　of　the　gods！〃
　　There　was　a　quiver　in　her　voice　as　she　ended；　and　Conan　began　to　sweat；　believing　she　was　on　the　point　of　an　hysterical　collapse。　But　the　blacks　did　not　notice；　any　more　than　they　identified　the　Corinthian　accent；　of　which　they　knew　nothing。　They　smote　their　palms　softly　together　and　a　murmur　of　wonder　and　awe　rose　from　them。　Gorulga's　eyes　glittered　fanatically　in　the　torchlight。
　　〃Yelaya　has　spoken！〃　he　cried　in　an　exalted　voice。　〃It　is　the　will　of　the　gods！　Long　ago；　in　the　days　of　our　ancestors；　they　were　made　taboo　and　hidden　at　the　mand　of　the　gods；　who　wrenched　them　from　the　awful　jaws　of　Gwahlur　the　king　of　darkness；　in　the　birth　of　the　world。　At　the　mand　of　the　gods　the　Teeth　of　Gwahlur　were　hidden；　at　their　mand　they　shall　be　brought　forth　again。　O　star…born　goddess；　give　us　your　leave　to　go　to　the　secret　hiding…place　of　the　Teeth　to　secure　them　for　him　whom　the　gods　love！〃
　　〃You　have　my　leave　to　go！〃　answered　the　false　goddess；　with　an　imperious　gesture　of　dismissal　that　set　Conan　grinning　again；　and　the　priests　backed　out；　ostrich　plumes　and　torches　rising　and　falling　with　the　rhythm　of　their　genuflexions。
　　The　gold　door　closed　and　with　a　moan；　the　goddess　fell　back　limply　on　the　dais。　〃Conan！〃　she　whimpered　faintly。　〃Conan！〃
　　〃Shhh！〃　he　hissed　through　the　apertures；　and　turning；　glided　from　the　niche　and　closed　the　panel。　A　glimpse　past　the　jamb　of　the　carven　door　showed　him　the　torches　receding　across　the　great　throne　room；　but　he　was　at　the　same　time　aware　of　a　radiance　that　did　not　emanate　from　the　torches。　He　was　startled；　but　the　solution　presented　itself　instantly。　An　early　moon　had　risen　and　its　light　slanted　through　the　pierced　dome　which　by　some　curious　workmanship　intensified　the　light。　The　shining　dome　of　Alkmeenon　was　no　fable；　then。　Perhaps　its　interior　was　of　the　curious　whitely　flaming　crystal　found　only　in　the　hills　of　the　black　countries。　The　light　flooded　the　throne　room　and　seeped　into　the　chambers　immediately　adjoining。
　　But　as　Conan　made　toward　the　door　that　led　into　the　throne　room；　he　was　brought　around　suddenly　by　a　noise　that　seemed　to　emanate　from　the　passage　that　led　off　from　the　alcove。　He　crouched　at　the　mouth；　staring　into　it；　remembering　the　clangor　of　the　gong　that　had　echoed　from　it　to　lure　him　into　a　snare。　The　light　from　the　dome　filtered　only　a　little　way　into　that　narrow　corridor；　and　showed　him　only　empty　space。　Yet　he　could　have　sworn　that　he　had　heard　the　furtive　pad　of　a　foot　somewhere　down　it。
　　While　he　hesitated；　he　was　electrified　by　a　woman's　strangled　cry　from　behind　him。　Bounding　through　the　door　behind　the　throne；　he　saw　an　unexpected　spectacle；　in　the　crystal　light。
　　The　torches　of　the　priests　had　vanished　from　the　great　hall　outside…but　one　priest　was　still　in　the　palace：　Gwarunga。　His　wicked　features　were　convulsed　with　fury；　and　he　grasped　the　terrified　Muriela　by　the　throat；　choking　her　efforts　to　scream　and　plead；　shaking　her　brutally。
　　〃Traitress！〃　Between　his　thick　red　lips　his　voice　hissed　like　a　cobra。　〃What　game　are　you　playing？　Did　not　Zargheba　tell　you　what　to　say？　Aye；　Thutmekri　told　me！　Are　you　betraying　your　master；　or　is　he　betraying　his　friends　through　you？　Slut！　I'll　twist　off　your　false　head…but　first　I'll…〃
　　A　widening　of　his　captive's　lovely　eyes　as　she　stared　over　his　shoulder　warned　the　huge　black。　He　released　her　and　wheeled；　just　as　Conan's　sword　lashed　down。　The　impact　of　the　stroke　knocked　him　headlong　backward　to　the　marble　floor；　where　he　lay　twitching；　blood　oozing　from　a　ragged　gash　in　his　scalp。
　　Conan　started　toward　him　to　finish　the　job…for　he　knew　that　the　black's　sudden　movement　had　caused　the　blade　to　strike　flat…but　Muriela　threw　her　arms　convulsively　about　him。
　　〃I've　done　as　you　ordered！〃　she　gasped　hysterically。　〃Take　me　away！　Oh；　please　take　me　away！〃
　　〃We　can't　go　yet；〃　he　grunted。　〃I　want　to　follow　the　priests　and　see　where　they　get　the　jewels。　There　may　be　more　loot　hidden　there。　But　you　can　go　with　me。　Where's　that　gem　you　wore　in　your　hair？〃
　　〃It　must　have　fallen　out　on　the　dais；〃　she　stammered；　feeling　for　it。　〃I　was　so　frightened…when　the　priests　left　I　ran　out　to　find　you；　and　this　big　brute　had　stayed　behind；　and　he　grabbed　me…〃
　　〃Well；　go　get　it　while　I　dispose　of　this　carcass；〃　he　manded。　〃Go　on！　That　gem　is　worth　a　fortune　itself。〃
　　She　hesitated；　as　if