Rey moved in and inserted the sharpened blade under Elashi’s belt. A single
jerk of his wrist sliced the leather strap, and the belt fell away. The wizard
moved to the hem of her heavy fabric skirt and gripped it with one hand,
cutting the material to her crotch. The skirt gaped, revealing the smooth skin
of her legs all the way to her underclothes.
Two more passes with the knife and Elashi lay stretched between the
cyclopes
naked save for her boots. The wizard stepped
between her spread legs and laid the flat of the blade knife upon her belly.
“Ready to tell me where Conan is?”
“Rot in the deepest hell!” Elashi said. Her voice quivered, but
she tried to keep her face impassive.
Rey turned the knife so that it was edge down. He started to press the edge
into her flesh…
“Wait!” Lalo yelled. “I shall tell you!”
“Lalo!
Say nothing!” Elashi said.
The wizard turned away from the woman. “Yes?”
Lalo’s grin looked pained, and his insult when it came was weak:
“Wicked fool, spare her and I shall tell you Conan’s location.”
“I spare no one. But I can make her death quick.”
Lalo nodded.
“Very well.
Conan hides in a
small grotto some distance away. Tull here has used it for his residence for
some years.”
Tull and Elashi managed to stare at Lalo with amazement and disbelief; the
wizard undoubtedly thought this due to Lalo’s treachery.
“Explain to me the location and you shall live until my
cyclopes
return with the barbarian.”
Tull and Elashi caught on to Lalo’s ploy.
Tull said, “Tell him nothing, you traitor!”
“I hate you!” Elashi said.
Ever-smiling, Lalo took a deep breath and began to tell the wizard how to
get to Tull’s grotto.
Seemingly satisfied, the wizard had Elashi chained next to the two men. She
drew her tattered clothes about her as best she could and settled down upon the
rocky floor, shaking from nervous reaction.
Rey swept out of the chamber to instruct his thralls in the retrieval of
Conan. It was only when the wizard appeared to be well out of earshot that the three
captives spoke to each other, and then in quiet whispers.
“Why did you tell him Conan was in my grotto?” Tull asked.
“When last we saw him—”
“—some monster had captured the awkward oaf,” Lalo finished.
“Aye, and since the flying creature did not come from Rey, then we may be
almost certain it was dispatched by the witch. We could have hardly told him
that, now could we? ‘Conan? Why, the witch has him.’ That would have sealed our
doom instantly, would it not?”
“Lalo is right,” Elashi whispered. “At least this way we have
purchased a bit more time.”
“Besides,” Lalo said, “I had to say something. I could not
allow him to harm you.”
Although Lalo’s smile was perpetual with him, it seemed to soften somewhat
when he said this, and Elashi grinned at him in return. “I thank you for
that.”
“Even as stupid and worthless as you are, you have more uses alive than
dead,” Lalo said. From him, this was practically a raging compliment, and
Elashi shook her head from the wonder of it.
“All this is beginning to get on my nerves,” Tull said. He got no
argument from either of the others on that point.
“What will we do when Rey discovers that Conan is not where we said he
would be?” Elashi asked.
“Try to deceive him further,” Lalo whispered.
“‘Gone? Well, yes, of course. He said that if we did not meet him there
soon, he would go to the waterfall where first he met Tull.’ And after that,
mayhap we can send him yet elsewhere.”
“He is certain to catch on after a time or two. It is a decidedly risky
plan,” Tull said.
“Better than no plan at all,” Elashi observed. “Besides, what
have we to lose now?”
Another point no one wished to speak to or think overly about… not while
chained to a cold wall in the chambers of an evil wizard.
Conan saw the two figures approaching, but he was unable to offer a defense or
to flee. When the unlikely pair arrived at a distance two spans from him, they
stopped.
“We would speak with you,” the one-eyed giant said.
The Cimmerian looked down at his trapped limbs. Bound as he was in the
sticky webbing, he had no choice save to listen to the cyclops and the worm.
“I am listening,” he said, as if he had a choice.
“Things are not as we would have them in our realm,” the cyclops
said. “We intend a change.”
“W-w-we n-need y-your h-h-help,” the worm said.
They went on to explain what they had in mind.
While his intention was to find his friends and flee this accursed realm as
soon as possible, the alternative offered by the pair certainly held merits the
Cimmerian had to ponder, especially considering his current state.
“So,” the cyclops said, “
that
is our
intent. If you help us achieve it, you and your friends will be free to go on
about your own business with our blessings.”
“And if I do not agree?”
“W-we c-can l-leave y-y-you h-here t-to r-r-rot,” the worm said in
that grating speech of his.
It was
,
Conan had to admit, a most powerful
argument.
“Well, then, I agree to aid you. Both witch and
wizard
have
done nothing but cause me grief since I arrived here, I would see
them in Gehanna at the earliest opportunity.”
The cyclops, who had given his name as Wikkell, nodded and turned to the
worm. “See? I told you he would be reasonable.”
With that, the giant one-eyed being extended a small
wooden device toward Conan and his nest of sticky threads.
After a
moment the threads began to pull away from Conan’s body and the small block of
wood somehow sucked the strings into itself. A few seconds later all of the
netting in which Conan had been trapped had vanished.
Magic,
and no doubt of that. He liked it not at
all. Still, it was not as if he had been given much in the way of choice.
Whatever the reason, he was a man of his word; once his pledge was given, he
would not break it.
“Our sources tell us that your friends have been collected by the
wizard,” Wikkell said.
“Are they well?”
“I have it as likely… for as long as the wizard thinks they might lead
him to you.”
“Why is it that I am so important to both witch and wizard?”
“
Wh-
who k-knows?”
This
from the worm, who called himself Deek.
“I think it perhaps has something to do with some kind of prophesy,”
Wikkell said. “In some way, the wizard fears you, and likewise, so does
the witch.”
“I cannot understand why. I have no magic; I am no more than an
ordinary man.”
“A man, perhaps.
Hardly
ordinary.
To have escaped from the wizard, and then from the witch after
sharing her bed, these are things no man has ever done before.”
“W-w-were i-it n-n-not f-for y-you, n-n-none o-of
th-this w-w-would h-have h-happened.”
Conan shrugged. “I think this is all due to being in the wrong place at
the wrong time.”
“Whatever the original reason,” Wikkell said, “it does not
matter so much now.”
The three started down the corridor. Conan pondered what they had told him.
They would aid him in freeing his friends. There was to be an attack, and
during it he might be able to take advantage of the confusion.
If he should happen to slay the wizard in passing?
Well, so
much the better.
Deek and Wikkell spoke of their actions over the last days, and Conan filled
them in on his own adventures. They seemed impressed, although he told his
story in an offhand manner devoid of bragging.
A few moments later several of the Blind Whites came down the rocky hallway
toward Conan and the others. Conan tensed, but Wikkell quickly reassured him
there was no need to worry. The Whites were now in league with the
cyclopes
and the worms. The witch and the wizard were about
to have a full-scale revolution on their hands.
One of the Whites approached and spoke to Wikkell in a language Conan did
not recognize. After a moment another of the Whites was motioned to come closer
by the cyclops.
The second White carried an object over one shoulder, something Conan had
not noticed earlier: his sword!
The White tendered the blade to Wikkell, who held it as a man would hold a
long knife. The cyclops turned to Conan. “Here. You might like this. The
Whites found it
laying
between two puddles upon the
floor of the cavern where you must have been captured by Chuntha.” At this
statement a shudder seemed to ripple through Wikkell.
“Something wrong?”
Wikkell shook his head. “I suspect I know what those puddles represent.
They stir a rather unpleasant memory.”
Conan took the sword and did not ask after the source of the cyclops’
recollection. The Cimmerian had noted, however, that his ability to hear the
mindspeech had left him. He suspected that the cause of that particular talent
had somehow been the responsibility of one of the jewels they had stolen from
Chuntha, one of those spilled in his hasty escape from her chambers. A pity in
one way to have lost it; on the other side of that coin, however, it was magic
and apt to cause more trouble in the long run than it was worth. His limited
experience with magic had shown Conan that even those who knew how to perform
such conjurs often found themselves in difficulties from them, and there were
indeed things with which men were not made to tamper.
Conan hefted the solid weight of the sword and smiled at the weapon. Here
was something a man could trust and depend upon. A strong arm, cold iron, and
skill… aye, he would take those over spells any day.
Chuntha awoke from a languorous sleep. She grinned to herself as she
stretched…
She sat up abruptly, startled. Where was the barbarian? Why did he not lie
next to her, dead from his exertions as surely he should be?
Now that she was more awake, Chuntha noted that she did not feel the usual
sensation of greatly increased energy that came from having drained a man of
his essence. Sated, yes, but empowered, no. What had happened?
She leaped to her feet and strode naked to the chamber’s exit. Outside, her
guards lay flaccidly in repose upon the cold stone.
“Where is the man? Chuntha’s voice, full of anger, cut at the two.
“G-g-gone to f-fetch wh-whatever it w-was you w-wished,” the worms
replied. “By y-your orders, m-m-mistress, he t-told us—”
“And you let him go? Just like that? Fools! I will see you baking in
the lime pits!” She spun away from the stammering worms and stormed back
into the chamber. No one had
ever
lain with her and walked away, no
one! She had been lax, she had wanted to make him last, that had been her
mistake! Well, she would fetch him back and none of his clever manipulations
would serve him this time, no matter how pleasant! Conan, he had called
himself, was a dead man!
Rey still had a small hope that somehow all this would turn out in his
favor. He had, after all, captured three of the loose humans wandering about in
his caves, and had melted two others. As nearly as he could tell, only the one,
Conan, remained at large. True, the prophesy seemed centered on that man, but
even now, half a dozen of his cyclopes marched at top speed to retrieve his
quarry. Rey would have gone himself, but he had another foreboding feeling that
he was better off for the moment in the seat of his power. Once Conan was
returned, the wizard intended to slay all four of the troublemakers quickly and
finish the entire unsavory episode. He had thought he might prolong it, taking
certain pleasures in the slowness of it, but something about that felt
altogether too risky. Puddle them and be done with it, he thought, and get back
to business as usual.
Chuntha, even knowing the risk, once again called upon the
spell of the metamorphic reptile.
She took to the air, rage and shame
filling her at having lost a game at which she was most expert… to a mere man,
and a barbarian at that. The monster flew, sharp eyes alert, seeking prey.
As Conan and his two new companions moved through the winding caveways, they
found themselves faced suddenly with a half dozen
cyclopes
.
Upon viewing Conan, the largest of the cyclops, one who seemed to be the
leader, spoke sharply, obviously an order. The other five
cyclopes
spread out and started for Conan.
The Cimmerian drew his sword and prepared to die. He might cross over into
the
Gray
Lands
,
but by Crom, he would not go without taking some of them with him!
“That will not be needed,” Wikkell said, raising one arm and
gesturing at Conan.
The Cimmerian held the sword with both hands, point aimed at the throat of the
nearest approaching cyclops. He did not relax his stance at his companion’s
comment.
Wikkell stepped forward and called out to the leader of the
cyclopes
, speaking in a harsh and choppy language that Conan
did not understand. The leader replied, and a short exchange of dialogue
followed, at the end of which the leader ordered his troops to stop.
Conan
raised
slightly from his bent-kneed fighting
stance and lowered the point of his blade. “What did you say to
them?”
“I told them there was about to be a revolution against the witch and
the wizard. Anyone who stood against the action would certainly die for it, as
would anyone who tampered with my short friend with the sword here—that is to
say, you. Jalouri, the leader of Rey’s guards over there, informs me that his
loyalties to the wizard have never really been all that solid, and he has
indicated that he and his troops would be more than happy to assist us in any
way they can.”