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
She stole a glance at the gleaming pyramid across the chasm; it reared
up against the snowy slope like the citadel of silence and immemorial
evil.
'Are you a magician, that you have conquered the Black Seers of Yimsha,
Conan of Ghor?' she asked, as they went down the path, with his heavy
arm about her supple waist.
'It was a girdle Khemsa gave me before he died,' Conan answered. 'Yes, I
found him on the trail. It is a curious one, which I'll show you when I
have time. Against some spells it was weak, but against others it was
strong, and a good knife is always a hearty incantation.'
'But if the girdle aided you in conquering the Master,' she argued, 'why
did it not aid Khemsa?'
He shook his head. 'Who knows? But Khemsa had been the Master's slave;
perhaps that weakened its magic. He had no hold on me as he had on
Khemsa. Yet I can't say that I conquered him. He retreated, but I have a
feeling that we haven't seen the last of him. I want to put as many
miles between us and his lair as we can.'
He was further relieved to find horses tethered among the tamarisks as
he had left them. He loosed them swiftly and mounted the black stallion,
swinging the girl up before him. The others followed, freshened by their
rest.
'And what now?' she asked. 'To Afghulistan?'
'Not just now!' He grinned hardly. 'Somebody--maybe the governor--killed
my seven headmen. My idiotic followers think I had something to do with
it, and unless I am able to convince them otherwise, they'll hunt me
like a wounded jackal.'
'Then what of me? If the headmen are dead, I am useless to you as a
hostage. Will you slay me, to avenge them?'
He looked down at her, with eyes fiercely aglow, and laughed at the
suggestion.
'Then let us ride to the border,' she said. 'You'll be safe from the
Afghulis there--'
'Yes, on a Vendhyan gibbet.'
'I am Queen of Vendhya,' she reminded him with a touch of her old
imperiousness. 'You have saved my life. You shall be rewarded.'
She did not intend it as it sounded, but he growled in his throat, ill
pleased.
'Keep your bounty for your city-bred dogs, princess! If you're a queen
of the plains, I'm a chief of the hills, and not one foot toward the
border will I take you!'
'But you would be safe--' she began bewilderedly.
'And you'd be the Devi again,' he broke in. 'No, girl; I prefer you as
you are now--a woman of flesh and blood, riding on my saddle-bow.'
'But you can't _keep_ me!' she cried. 'You can't--'
'Watch and see!' he advised grimly.
'But I will pay you a vast ransom--'
'Devil take your ransom!' he answered roughly, his arms hardening about
her supple figure. 'The kingdom of Vendhya could give me nothing I
desire half so much as I desire you. I took you at the risk of my neck;
if your courtiers want you back, let them come up the Zhaibar and fight
for you.'
'But you have no followers now!' she protested. 'You are hunted! How can
you preserve your own life, much less mine?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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