The People of the Black CircleHoward, Robert E. (Robert Ervin)
Science
The People of the Black Circle
Howard, Robert E. (Robert Ervin)
Conan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction, American
'Not I!' he laughed. 'I was born on this planet, long ago. Once I was a
common man, nor have I lost all human attributes in the numberless eons
of my adeptship. A human steeped in the dark arts is greater than a
devil. I am of human origin, but I rule demons. You have seen the Lords
of the Black Circle--it would blast your soul to hear from what far
realm I summoned them and from what doom I guard them with ensorcelled
crystal and golden serpents.
'But only I can rule them. My foolish Khemsa thought to make himself
great--poor fool, bursting material doors and hurtling himself and his
mistress through the air from hill to hill! Yet if he had not been
destroyed his power might have grown to rival mine.'
He laughed again. 'And you, poor, silly thing! Plotting to send a hairy
hill chief to storm Yimsha! It was such a jest that I myself could have
designed, had it occurred to me, that you should fall in his hands. And
I read in your childish mind an intention to seduce by your feminine
wiles to attempt your purpose, anyway.
'But for all your stupidity, you are a woman fair to look upon. It is my
whim to keep you for my slave.'
The daughter of a thousand proud emperors gasped with shame and fury at
the word.
'You dare not!'
His mocking laughter cut her like a whip across her naked shoulders.
'The king dares not trample a worm in the road? Little fool, do you not
realize that your royal pride is no more than a straw blown on the wind?
I, who have known the kisses of the queens of Hell! You have seen how I
deal with a rebel!'
Cowed and awed, the girl crouched on the velvet-covered dais. The light
grew dimmer and more phantom-like. The features of the Master became
shadowy. His voice took on a newer tone of command.
'I will never yield to you!' Her voice trembled with fear but it carried
a ring of resolution.
'You will yield,' he answered with horrible conviction. 'Fear and pain
shall teach you. I will lash you with horror and agony to the last
quivering ounce of your endurance, until you become as melted wax to be
bent and molded in my hands as I desire. You shall know such discipline
as no mortal woman ever knew, until my slightest command is to you as
the unalterable will of the gods. And first, to humble your pride, you
shall travel back through the lost ages, and view all the shapes that
have been you. _Aie, yil la khosa!_'
At these words the shadowy room swam before Yasmina's affrighted gaze.
The roots of her hair prickled her scalp, and her tongue clove to her
palate. Somewhere a gong sounded a deep, ominous note. The dragons on
the tapestries glowed like blue fire, and then faded out. The Master on
his dais was but a shapeless shadow. The dim light gave way to soft,
thick darkness, almost tangible, that pulsed with strange radiations.
She could no longer see the Master. She could see nothing. She had a
strange sensation that the walls and ceiling had withdrawn immensely
from her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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