Conan shook his head, grunting something inaudible and frowning in a puzzled way. Sak.u.mbe turned to Amalric. "And you, my young friend, did you come here with something to tell us?"
"My lord, I came to ask the lord Conan to visit my house and confirm my marriage to my woman. Afterwards, I thought he might do me the favor to remain for a small repast."
"Small repast?" said Sak.u.mbe. "Not so, by Ajujo"s nose! We shall make a grand revel of it, with whole roast oxen, rivers of wine, and our drummers and dancers! What say you, brother King?"
Conan belched and grinned. "I"m with you, brother King. Well give Amalric such a wedding feast that he won"t wake up for three days afterwards!"
"There was another matter" said Amalric, a little appalled at the prospect of another celebration of the kind these barbarian kings preferred but not knowing how to refuse. He told about Askia"s interrogation of Lissa.
The two kings frowned when he had finished. Sak.u.mbe said: "Fear not Askia, Amalric. All wizards need to be watched, but this one is a valued servant of mine. Why, without his sorcery-" Sak.u.mbe glanced toward the doorway and spoke: "What would you?"
A bodyguard, standing in the doorway, said: "O Kings, a scout of the Tibu riders would speak with you."
"Send him in" said Conan.
A lean black in ragged white garments entered and prostrated himself.
As he flopped down on his belly, a cloud of dust arose from his garments.
"My lords!" he gasped. "Zehbeh and the Aphald march against us! I sighted them yesterday at the oasis of Kidessa and rode all night to bring word."
Conan and Sak.u.mbe, both suddenly sobered, lurched to their feet Conan said: "Brother King, this means that Zehbeh could be here tomorrow.
Order the drums beaten for the muster." While Sak.u.mbe called in an officer and gave this command, Conan turned to Amalric. "Do you thick you could surprise the Aphaki on the way here and smash them with your riders?"
"Perhaps I can," said Amalric cautiously. They will outnumber us, but some ravines to the north would be suitable for an ambush..."
Chapter Five.
An hour later, as the sun set behind the dun brick walls of Tombalku, Conan and Sak.u.mbe mounted the thrones on the dais in the plaza. As the drums thundered the muster, black men of military age streamed into the square. Bonfires were lit Plumed officers pushed warriors into line and thumbed the heads of the men"s spears to a.s.sure themselves that these were sharp.
Amalric strode across the square to report to the kings that his riders would be ready to move out by midnight His mind teemed with schemes and stratagems: Whether, if the Aphaki refused to break at the first onslaught, he should break off the fight and retire, to attack again when the Aphaki were spread out and dismounted to attack the walls of Tombalku...
He mounted the steps to where the kings sat, surrounded by black officers to whom they were issuing orders. "My lords-" he began.
A screech interrupted him. Askia appeared beside the throne, pointing at Amalric and shouting at the kings.
"There he is!" screamed the wizard. "The man who slew a G.o.d! The man who slew one of my G.o.ds!"
The Negroes around the thrones turned startled faces toward Amalric. In the firelight, eyeb.a.l.l.s gleamed whitely against dark skins. Their expressions had in them something of awe and fear. Clearly, it was inconceivable to them that a man should slay a G.o.d. One who did so must be, in some sort, a G.o.d himself.
"What punishment were cruel enough for such blasphemy?" continued Askia. "I demand that the slayer of Ollam-onga and his wench be turned over to me for torture! Cods, they shall suffer such pain as no mortal has ever suffered in all the aeons-"
"Shut up!" roared Conan. "If Amalric killed the spook of Gazal, the world is better for it. Now get out of here and stop bothering us; we have business."
"But, Conan-" said Sak.u.mbe.
"These white-skinned devils always hang together!" yelled Askia. "Are you king any longer, Sak.u.mbe? If you are, then order them seized and bound! If you do not know what to do with them- "
"Well-" said Sak.u.mbe.
"Listen!" cried Conan. "If Gazal is no longer haunted by this so-called G.o.d, we can capture the place, put its people to work, and get them to teach us their sciences. But first get rid of this prancing he-witch, before I try my edge on him!"
"I demand-" screamed Askia.
"Get rid of him!"" bellowed the Cimmerian, hand on his hilt. "By Crom, do you think I"d deliver an old comrade like Amalric to the mercy of a devil-worshiping cutthroat?"
Sak.u.mbe at last roused himself and sat up straight on his throne. "Go, Asiria!" he said. "Amalric is a good warrior, and you shall not have him. Rather, busy yourself with sorceries to defeat Zehbeh."
"But I-"
"Go! The fat arm pointed.
Askia foamed with rage. "Very well, I go!" he shouted at last "But you have not heard the last of me, you two!" And away rushed the witch doctor.
Amalric resumed his report on the Tibu riders. What with the constant coming and going of messengers, and of officers reporting on the strength of their commands, it was some time before he had laid his entire plan before the king. Conan made a few suggestions and then said:
"It looks good to me, eh, Sak.u.mbe?"
"If you like it, brother King, it must be good. Go, Amalric, and muster our riders-aieee!" An awful scream suddenly broke from Sak.u.mbe, whose eyes seemed to be starting from his head. He staggered up from his throne, clutching at his throat "I burn! I burn! Save me!"
A terrible phenomenon was taking place on the body of Sak.u.mbe. Although there was no sign of visible fire, no sensation of heat, it was plain to be seen that the man was in fact burning, as surely as if he had been tied to a stake over lighted f.a.ggots. His skin blistered, then charred and cracked, while the air was filled with the odor of burning flesh.
"Pour water on him!" shouted Amalric. "Or wind Anything you have!"
Scream after scream from the tortured throat of the black king. Someone threw a bucketful of liquid over him; there was a hiss and a cloud of steam, but the screams continued.
"Crom and Ishtar!" swore Conan, glaring furiously about, "I ought to have killed that dancing devil while he was in reach."
The screams died away and ceased. The remains of the king-a shriveled, shapeless object, not at all like the living Sak.u.mbe-lay on the surface of the dais in a pool of melted human fat. Some of the plumed officers fled in panic; some prostrated themselves, calling upon their various G.o.ds.
Conan seized Amalric"s wrist in a bone-crushing grip. "We must get out of here, quickly!" he said in a low, tense lone. "Come along!"
Amalric did not doubt the Cimmerian"s knowledge of the dangers they faced. He followed Conan down the steps of the dais. In the plaza, all was confusion. Plumed warriors milled around, shouting and gesticulating. Fights had broken out here and there among them.
Die, slayer of Kordofo!" screamed a voice above the din. Directly in front of Conan, a tall, brown man drew back his arm and hurled a javelin at point-blank range. Only the steel-trap quickness of the barbarian saved Conan. The Cimmerian whirled and crouched, so that the missile pa.s.sed over him, missing Amalric"s head by a finger"s breadth and burying itself in the body of another warrior.
The attacker drew back his arm to hurl a second spear; but, before he could loose it, Conan"s sword sang from its sheath, whirled in a scarlet arc in the firelight, and struck home. The Tombalkan sank to the ground, cloven from shoulder to breastbone.
"Run!" yelled Conan.
Amalric ran, dodging through the swirling crowds in the plaza. Men shouted and pointed at them; some ran after them.
Amalric, his legs pounding and his lungs laboring, raced down a side street after Conan. Behind them swelled the sounds of pursuit. The street narrowed and bent Ahead of Amalric, Conan suddenly disappeared.
"In here, quickly!" came the voice of the Cimmerian, who had dodged into a s.p.a.ce a yard in width between two mud-brick houses.
Amalric squeezed into this alcove and stood silently, gasping for breath, as the pursuit raced past in the street.