Conan the Hunter Part 12

"Very well, then. Just the three of us it will be. How will you find the lair of this harlot of darkness?" Kailash's eyes burned with his desire for vengeance.

"Nothing more can we do until tomorrow," Madesus replied. "Make whatever preparations you deem necessary. Conan, I have just enough energy left to tend your wounds, then I must return to the temple to retrieve my belongings. We must all rest before we begin this task. We shall need as much endurance and awareness as we can muster to overcome the menacities awaiting us."

Conan began to object, but Madesus stubbornly refused to leave without seeing to the more serious of the Cimmerian's injuries. The barbarian sat impatiently upon a dais near the one the king lay upon, while the healer went about his business. At some point during the ministrations, Conan's eyes began to close and his head slumped down upon his ma.s.sive chest as sleep overcame him.

"Leave him where he is," Madesus whispered to Kailash. "Do not disturb him; he will awaken when his body is ready. I have set the healing in motion, and his own powers of recovery are astonis.h.i.+ng. Healers must seldom be needed in his homeland, if they are to be found anywhere in Cimmeria at all."

Madesus followed Kailash out of the king's chamber. "I will return soon from the temple and sleep here, in this outer chamber. Admit no one but the most trusted of men into the outer chamber, and admit no one at all into the inner chamber! By the will and mercy of the Holy Father Mitra, this will all be over before nightfall tomorrow."

"Aye," Kailash agreed, "by the will of Mitra, let it be so! Shall I send a man to accompany you to the temple?"

"'Tis only a short journey, and I need no help in carrying what few possessions I left there. I shall return within the hour."

Without another word, Madesus pa.s.sed through the copper doors and left the palace, while several curious hillmen watched. They looked questioningly at Kailash, who shook his head in response. Drawing his sword and seating himself on a wooden bench, he began a minute inspection of his blade. From a travel-worn black leather pack, laying on the bench next to him, he withdrew a sharpening stone and set to work, Kailash found this blade-work helpful when he needed to resolve difficult problems. Valtresca, a traitor! The king had trusted his general. The politics of the Brythunian n.o.bility had always befuddled Kailash, who was born in the northeastern mountains and raised by hillpeople, as King Eldran had been. He had always considered politics to be the refuge of the weak or the deceitful, but Eldran, ever the smarter of the two, had eventually convinced him otherwise.

Yet it was politics, Kailash supposed, that were partially to blame for the series of events leading to the murder of the princess and the near death of the king. How long had Valtresca's resentment of Eldran festered before his plot to destroy the king had been thwarted by Conan and Madesus? What if there were other traitors lurking in the palace, waiting for their chance to strike? The very idea made his blood run cold. But Kailash thought it unlikely that there were any other traitors. The remaining palace guards and staff were completely loyal to Eldran, such was the influence the king had on his people. Never had a Brythunian king come so close to uniting the quarreling factions of the country, while keeping the poaching kings of Nemedia and Corinthia at bay.

Of course there were those who resented Eldran's success. Several old royal families from the southern lands of Brythunia did not acknowledge Eldran's authority, although they made no protest over his claims to other regions of Brythunia. Many of these publicly objected that Eldran was not descended of a royal bloodline. Valtresca would have had supporters from these families. Kailash shuddered to think that if Eldran had died already, the general's evil plot would never have been discovered. Were it not for the actions of Conan and Madesus, Valtresca might well be on the throne.

Kailash began to wonder about the Cimmerian warrior, and his unlikely ally, a powerful priest of Mitra-who claimed not to be a true priest!

The hillmen had heard tales of Cimmerians, fierce barbarians from the frozen north. Their legendary sack of the Aquilonian stronghold at Venarium, which Conan might even have been a part of, was the stuff of civilized soldiers' nightmares. Kailash had always pictured Cimmerians as pale-skinned, grim-faced, dark-haired giants, more like animals than men. Conan did not fit this picture, although Kailash had a healthy respect for his obvious prowess. The hillman doubted that any of his men could best Conan in a fight, not with any weapon. In the past few days, the Cimmerian had filled the city's burial ground with the bodies of many guardsmen. Kailash actually found himself looking forward to fighting side by side with such a great warrior.

Kailash's understanding of Madesus was much less clear. Never had he seen such power wielded, though he had heard stories of sorcerers and priests with ensorcelled amulets and the like. The hillmen were a superst.i.tious folk. In his youth, he had spent many an evening around campfires, listening to graybeards' stories of bewitchment, hauntings, and unearthly wizardry. At first he believed that these tales were designed to scare him, but in the years since, he had seen evidence supporting many of the stories. Priestly and wizardry matters were beyond his understanding, and he had been taught to fear the unknown.

Even Madesus had put him on edge.

In any case, the king had been healthier after the healer's a.s.sistance.

The other priests and healers had been powerless to ease the king's pain. Still, Kailash did not fully trust Madesus; he believed that the healer cared more about destroying the Mutare priestess than he did about saving Eldran. In either case, they were all working toward common goals. Kailash would continue to show nothing but enthusiasm for the task.

He wondered what they thought of him. To the casual observer, he was nothing more than another battle-hungry, dull-witted hillman. In the past, this a.s.sumption had been the downfall of many an enemy. As his father had said, a man will learn more by keeping his eyes and ears open than he will learn by keeping his mouth open.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a gentle knock on the chamber doors. He put his sharpening stone back into his pack and stood up while the hillmen went to the door. Could Madesus be back so soon?

Puzzled, he waited for the door to open.

Behind it stood Lamici, the chief eunuch, in silk robes. "I apologize for this intrusion, Kailash," he said softly. His voice was trembling slightly, and he looked somewhat rumpled, as if he had just been roused from his slumber. "One of the guards was saying that Valtresca had been slain, after revealing himself to be a traitor!"

"Yes," said Kailash absently. "Conan slew him, after the general murdered Salvorus. The barbarian and the priest Madesus exposed the traitor."

"Shocking! One of the king's oldest friends, a traitor to the throne."

Lamici feigned surprise, but nervously wondered if his own treachery had also been discovered. "Did anyone speak to Valtresca before he died?"

"Only the barbarian. According to the priest, the general was a p.a.w.n of a greater evil, a priestess of an ancient and evil cult called Mutare.

This priestess, for reasons not known to us, wove a spell of death about Eldran. Were it not for Madesus, the king might now be dead."

Lamici was relieved that he had not been discovered. However, their knowledge of Azora's involvement disturbed him. How could a simple priest of Mitra know of her? Azora had told him that no priest would be able to save the king once her spell was complete. Still, it mattered little now. With Valtresca dead, Lamici's hopes to restore the glory of the Brythunian throne were shattered. The meddlesome barbarian and priest would pay for this outrage! Azora would crush them like bugs. He had to bring her this news, as quickly as possible. But first he would find out what Kailash knew; obviously, the Kezankian b.u.mpkin still trusted him.

"A Mutare? This evil harlot of darkness still lives, or was she slain, too?" he asked.

"Nay, the priest knows not where to find this sorceress, but he said he would track and destroy her. He is powerful, Lamici, not like any priest I have ever known. He bears an amulet that harnesses great magical forces. Conan and I are going with him soon, to help him find the priestess and destroy her. She and Madesus must be enemies of old."

"Did they meet before? How did he know of her?" Lamici was now deeply worried. If the priest was not eliminated quickly, Lamici's dealings with Azora might be discovered.

"He did not say if they had met, but he knew she was nearby. He has an uncanny air about him, Lamici. He could somehow sense her presence; how, he would not explain. I know not what Conan and I can do against the Mutare, but Madesus asked us to accompany him, and I owe a great debt to him."

"Indeed, we all do," said Lamici, smiling. "If I may say, the guardsmen were wondering who would take Valtresca's place as general. If I may be so bold, let me say that none is better suited or more loved by the people than you, Kailash."

Kailash paused for a moment, as this thought had not occurred to him.

He had never put himself in the role of general, but with Salvorus also dead, and the other captains away from the palace, there was no other successor around. Kailash was irritated that he had not thought of this; his mind had been occupied solely with the threat to the king's life. Eldran had always told him that the safety of a king's subjects was far more important than the safety of the king himself.

"The king will soon be well enough to choose his own general," Kailash said after thinking it over. "I made a promise to the priest, and must fulfill it before I do aught else."

Lamici nodded. "Of course you are right," he said. "I will make the necessary arrangements to remove the general's body, and see to the repairs and cleaning of the dungeon. When do you leave?"

"Within the hour. Whenever the priest returns from the temple. Lamici, tell no one of this. We cannot take the chance that traitorous ears may hear us."

"For three generations have the eunuchs served the royal family,"

Lamici said rea.s.suringly. "Your secret is safe with me. May the G.o.ds be with you all." He bowed and bid the hillman good-bye.

Moving as quickly as he could, Lamici went to his chambers. From his hiding place, he withdrew a needle-pointed dagger that bore a thin groove along the full length of its gleaming blade. Very carefully, he opened a small jar and picked up a brush laying alongside it, dipping the brush into the jar. His nose recoiled from the stink of the vessel's contents. He carefully dabbed the brush along the dagger's groove, filling it with the orange, saplike liquid, then closed the jar and returned it to its secret place beside the brush.

He pulled back his right sleeve, revealing a thin sheath strapped to the underside of his forearm. His hairless head shone with sweat as he slowly sheathed the blade. He had seen what even one drop of the jar's deadly contents would do to a man, just by touching his skin. He had taken the jar from a Vendhyan a.s.sa.s.sin, who was caught trying to poison the king. The man, posing as a Vendhyan amba.s.sador negotiating a trade agreement, had been hired by rival n.o.bility of Brythunia. The a.s.sa.s.sin had coated a tiny dart with the poison and fired it at the king from across the room. At that moment, a gust of wind had blown into the open palace windows and diverted the dart's flight. It had struck a hillman on the arm, but had not pierced the skin. Nonetheless, the man had gripped his arm and fallen to the floor, howling in agony and convulsing. Foam had begun to drip from his mouth before he died. The only mark on his body had been a tiny, thin welt on his arm.

Lamici's mouth curved into a smile at this memory. Such a death was fitting for the meddlesome priest who had ruined Lamici's plans.

Madesus would die foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. The eunuch slid the blade the rest of the way into the hidden sheath and donned a hooded cloak, then slipped out into the ebbing darkness of the Brythunian dawn.

Ten.

Shadow and Stone ----------------.

Madesus reached the temple as the sun rose over the eastern wall of the city, brightening the dull, ivory-colored temple walls with its warming glow. He stopped halfway up the steps to the huge main doors. As if the sun had awakened his memory, he suddenly remembered the location of the building he had seen in his dream, and in the magical pool created by Kaletos.

The city was filled with old buildings, but the oldest of them lay just west of the palace. He had pa.s.sed by them many times since his arrival in the city; some structures were in crumbling ruins, others had weathered the years well. He was certain that the building they sought had once been a temple. He had not recognized the pantheon; there were strange and ancient carvings on its side.

In the dream and in the pool, the carvings had stood out in crisp detail, as if newly sculpted. In reality, years of weather would have nearly smoothed the carvings from the walls; only the deepest markings would have remained. Perhaps the dream had shown the building as it was centuries ago. Such was not uncommon in mystical scrying. Why had he not sensed the evil that must lurk behind those carvings, within the walls of the building? Mayhap the place itself cloaked the Mutare, and had been chosen for this purpose.

Madesus continued up the steps with newfound urgency. Now was the time to strike against the evil. In the daylight, even blocked by stone walls, the Mutare's powers would be weaker. The bright sun was an omen that Mitra was with him today.

Feeling more confident of his chance of defeating the Mutare, Madesus entered the temple and gathered his possessions. He had no time to speak with Kaletos again; he knew that he must return immediately to the palace, where Conan and Kailash waited. He left a few pieces of silver in his Spartan room for the temple's coffers, and departed hastily.

The streets were crowded on his way back to the palace, as the city went about its morning business. News of the king's renewed health had spread, and many of the townspeople were in better spirits. Little did these people know that with the Mutare in their midst, they were as lambs with a wolf in the fold. The priest shouldered his way through the crowd, finally reaching the palace gates.

At the gate, the guards quickly recognized him, bowing as he pa.s.sed through. Minutes later, he rejoined Kailash in the king's outer chambers. Conan had risen only moments before, feeling bruised but no longer exhausted. He had borrowed rugged garb from one of the larger hillmen: leggings of st.u.r.dy green cloth, and a long-sleeved, lined tunic with dark leather lacing up the front. He had retrieved his straight, broad-bladed western sword, now hanging unscabbarded from his wide, thick leather belt. Underneath the tunic he still wore his torn leather vest, and on his feet were thick-soled sandals. Overall, his clothing reflected a strange mix of east and west, but his eyes and build were unmistakably those of the western barbarian.

Kailash greeted Madesus and slung his black leather pack over his broad back. His gear was similar to Conan's, except for his curved sword, heavy black boots, and thick iron cap. "We need no rest," he said grimly to the priest. "If you know where this priestess is, we will follow you there now." Conan nodded, dropping his scarred hand to the hilt of his sword in affirmation.

"Truly, Mitra is with us," said Madesus. He had misgivings about plunging ahead unrested, but he was far from weary. "At sunrise today, the location of the Mutare's lair became clear to me. I am now certain that she is in one of the old temple buildings in the ruined section of the city."

Kailash was startled by this. "The ruins? An entire patrol constantly guards those buildings, to keep out undesirables. Superst.i.tion and fear keep nearly everyone else away. Many of those structures are haunted, or cursed. The city was built around those ruins, but no man knew who had dwelt there. In the early history of the city, many brave men, exploring the buildings, died from unexplained accidents."