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第20部分

rh.conanthewarrior-第20部分

小说: rh.conanthewarrior 字数: 每页4000字

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  The last Tecuhltli except Tascela had fallen when the princess reached the Cimmerian and the girl who had taken refuge beside him。 Tascela bent and touched the floor; pressing a design upon it。 Instantly the iron jaws released the bleeding limb and sank back into the floor。
  〃Slay him if you can!〃 she panted; and pressed a heavy knife into his hand。 〃I have no magic to withstand him!〃
  With a grunt he sprang before the woman; not heeding his lacerated leg in the heat of the fighting lust。 Tolkemec was ing toward him; his weird eyes ablaze; but he hesitated at the gleam of the knife in Conan's hand。 Then began a grim game; as Tolkemec sought to circle about Conan and get the barbarian between him and the altar or a metal door; while Conan sought to avoid this and drive home his knife。 The women watched tensely; holding their breath。
  There was no sound except the rustle and scrape of quick…shifting feet。 Tolkemec pranced and capered no more。 He realized that grimmer game confronted him than the people who had died screaming and fleeing。 In the elemental blaze of the barbarian's eyes he read an intent deadly as his own。 Back and forth they weaved; and when one moved the other moved as if invisible threads bound them together。 But all the time Conan was getting closer and closer to his enemy。 Already the coiled muscles of his thighs were beginning to flex for a spring; when Valeria cried out。 For a fleeting instant a bronze door was in line with Conan's moving body。 The red line leaped; searing Conan's flank as he twisted aside; and even as he shifted he hurled the knife。 Old Tolkemec went down; truly slain at last; the hilt vibrating on his breast。
  Tascela sprang…not toward Conan; but toward the wand where it shimmered like a live thing on the floor。 But as she leaped; so did Valeria; with a dagger snatched from a dead man; and the blade; driven with all the power of the pirate's muscles; impaled the princess of Tecuhltli so that the point stood out between her breasts。 Tascela screamed once and fell dead; and Valeria spurned the body with her heel as it fell。
  〃I had to do that much; for my own self…respect!〃 panted Valeria; facing Conan across the limp corpse。
  〃Well; this cleans up the feud;〃 he grunted。 〃It's been a hell of a night! Where did these people keep their food? I'm hungry。〃
  〃You need a bandage on that leg。〃 Valeria ripped a length of silk from a hanging and knotted it about her waist; then tore off some smaller strips which she bound efficiently about the barbarian's lacerated limb。
  〃I can walk on it;〃 he assured her。 〃Let's begone。 It's dawn; outside this infernal city。 I've had enough of Xuchotl。 It's well the breed exterminated itself。 I don't want any of their accursed jewels。 They might be haunted。〃
  〃There is enough clean loot in the world for you and me;〃 she said; straightening to stand tall and splendid before him。
  The old blaze came back in his eyes; and this time she did not resist as he caught her fiercely in his arms。
  〃It's a long way to the coast;〃 she said presently; withdrawing her lips from his。
  〃What matter?〃 he laughed。 〃There's nothing we can't conquer。 We'll have our feet on a ship's deck before the Stygians open their ports for the trading season。 And then we'll show the world what plundering means!〃
  
  
  
   JEWELS OF GWAHLUR
  
  
  Conan's amour with Valeria does not last long; perhaps the fact that each of them insists on being the boss has something to do with the fact。 At any rate; they part: Valeria to return to the sea; Conan to try his luck in the black kingdoms。 Hearing of the priceless 〃Teeth of Gwahlur;〃 a fortune in ancient jewels hidden somewhere in Keshan; he sells his services to the irascible king of Keshan to train his armies for war against the neighboring kingdom of Punt。
  
  
   1。  Paths of Intrigue
  
  The cliffs rose sheer from the jungle; towering ramparts of stone that glinted jade…blue and dull crimson in the rising sun; and curved away and away to east and west above the waving emerald ocean of fronds and leaves。 It looked insurmountable; that giant palisade with its sheer curtains of solid rock in which bits of quartz winked dazzlingly in the sunlight。 But the man who was working his tedious way upward was already halfway to the top。
  He came from a race of hillmen; accustomed to scaling forbidding crags; and he was a man of unusual strength and agility。 His only garment was a pair of short red silk breeks; and his sandals were slung to his back; out of his way; as were his sword and dagger。
  The man was powerfully built; supple as a panther。 His skin was bronzed by the sun; his square…cut black mane confined by a silver band about his temples。 His iron muscles; quick eyes and sure feet served him well here; for it was a climb to test these qualities to the utmost。 A hundred and fifty feet below him waved the jungle。 An equal distance above him the rim of the cliffs was etched against the morning sky。
  He labored like one driven by the necessity of haste; yet he was forced to move at a snail's pace; clinging like a fly on a wall。 His groping hands and feet found niches and knobs; precarious holds at best; and sometimes he virtually hung by his finger nails。 Yet upward he went; clawing; squirming; fighting for every foot。 At times he paused to rest his aching muscles; and; shaking the sweat out of his eyes; twisted his head to stare searchingly out over the jungle; bing the green expanse for any trace of human life or motion。
  Now the summit was not far above him; and he observed; only a few feet above his head; a break in the sheer stone of the cliff。 An instant later he had reached it…a small cavern; just below the edge of the rim。 As his head rose above the lip of its floor; he grunted。 He clung there; his elbows hooked over the lip。 The cave was so tiny that it was little more than a niche cut in the stone; but it held an occupant。 A shrivled brown mummy; cross…legged; arms folded on the withered breast upon which the shrunken head was sunk; sat in the little cavern。 The limbs were bound in place with rawhide thongs which had bee mere rotted wisps。 If the form had ever been clothed; the ravages of time had long ago reduced the garments to dust。 But thrust between the crossed arms and the shrunken breast there was a roll of parchment; yellowed with age to the color of old ivory。
  The climber stretched forth a long arm and wrenched away this cylinder。 Without investigation; he thrust it into his girdle and hauled himself up until he was standing in the opening of the niche。 A spring upward and he caught the rim of the cliffs and pulled himself up and over almost with the same motion。
  There he halted; panting; and stared downward。
  It was like looking into the interior of a vast bowl; rimmed by a circular stone wall。 The floor of the bowl was covered with trees and denser vegetation; though nowhere did the growth duplicate the jungle denseness of the outer forest。 The cliffs marched around it without a break and of uniform height。 It was a freak of nature; not to be paralleled; perhaps; in the whole world: a vast natural amphitheater; a circular bit of forested plain; three or four miles in diameter; cut off from the rest of the world; and confined within the ring of those palisaded cliffs。
  But the man on the cliffs did not devote his thoughts to marveling at the topographical phenomenon。 With tense eagerness he searched the tree…tops below him; and exhaled a gusty sigh when he caught the glint of marble domes amidst the twinkling green。 It was no myth; then; below him lay the fabulous and deserted palace of Alkmeenon。
  Conan the Cimmerian; late of the Baracha Isles; of the Black Coast; and of many other climes where life ran wild; had e to the kingdom of Keshan following the lure of a fabled treasure that outshone the hoard of the Turanian kings。
  Keshan was a barbaric kingdom lying in the eastern hinterlands of Kush where the broad grasslands merge with the forests that roll up from the south。 The people were a mixed race; a dusky nobility ruling a population that was largely pure Negro。 The rulers…princes and high priests…claimed descent from a white race which; in a mythical age; had ruled a kingdom whose capital city was Alkmeenon。 Conflicting legends sought to explain the reason for that race's eventual downfall; and the abandonment of the city by the survivors。 Equally nebulous were the tales of the Teeth of Gwahlur; the treasure of Alkmeenon。 But these misty legends had been enough to bring Conan to Keshan; over vast distances of plain; riverlaced jungle; and mountains。
  He had found Keshan; which in itself was considered mythical by many northern and western nations; and he had heard enough to confirm the rumors of the treasure that men called the Teeth of Gwahlur。 But its hiding place he could not learn; and he was confronted with the necessity of explaining his presence in Keshan。 Unattached strangers were not wele there。
  But he was not nonplussed。 With cool assurance he made his offer to the stately; plumed; suspicious grandees of the barbarically magnificent court。 He was a professional fighting man。 In search of employ

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