Speaker 1: Chapter one of The Devil in Ron. This is a
Speaker 1: LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
Speaker 1: For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Speaker 1: Recording by Phil Shinever. The Devil in Ron by Robert E.
Speaker 1: Howard was first published in Weird Tales August nineteen thirty four.
Speaker 1: Chapter one. The fisherman loosened his knife in its scabbard.
Speaker 1: The gesture was instinctive, for what he feared was nothing
Speaker 1: a knife could slay, not even the saw edged crescent
Speaker 1: blade of the Uechi that could disembowel a man with
Speaker 1: an upward stroke. Neither man nor beast threatened him in
Speaker 1: the solitude which brooded over the castellated Isle of Zoppor.
Speaker 1: He had climbed the cliffs, passed through the jungle that
Speaker 1: bordered them, and now stood surrounded by evidences of a
Speaker 1: vanished state. Broken columns glimmered among the trees, The staggering
Speaker 1: lines of crumbling walls meandered off into the shadows, and
Speaker 1: under his feet were broad paves, cracked and bowed by
Speaker 1: roots growing beneath The fisherman was typical of his race.
Speaker 1: That strange people whose origin is lost in the gray
Speaker 1: dawn of the past, and who have dwelt in their
Speaker 1: rude fishing huts along the southern shore of the Sea
Speaker 1: of Voliat since time immemorial. He was broadly built, with
Speaker 1: long apish arms and a mighty chest, but with lean
Speaker 1: loins and thin bandy legs. His face was broad, his
Speaker 1: forehead low and retreating, his hair thick and tangled. A
Speaker 1: belt for a knife and a rag for a loincloth
Speaker 1: were all he wore in the way of clothing. That
Speaker 1: he was where he was proved that he was less
Speaker 1: dully and curious than most of his people. Men seldom
Speaker 1: visited Zapor. It was uninhabited, all but forgotten, merely one
Speaker 1: among the myriad isles which dotted the great Inland Sea.
Speaker 1: Men called it Zapor the Fortified because of its ruins
Speaker 1: remnants of some prehistoric kingdom, lost and forgotten before the
Speaker 1: conquering Hiberians had ridden southward. No one knew who reared
Speaker 1: these stones, though dim legends lingered among the Uechi, which
Speaker 1: half intelligibly suggested a connection of immeasurable antiquity between the
Speaker 1: fissures and the unknown island kingdom. But it had been
Speaker 1: a thousand years since any Uechi had understood the import
Speaker 1: of these tales. They repeated them now as a meaningless formula,
Speaker 1: a gibberish framed by their lips by custom. No yuet
Speaker 1: she had come to Zappor for a century. The adjacent
Speaker 1: coast to the main land was uninhabited, a reedy marsh
Speaker 1: given over to the grim beasts that haunted it. The
Speaker 1: fisher's village lay some distance to the south on the mainland.
Speaker 1: A storm had blown his frail fishing craft far from
Speaker 1: his accustomed haunts, and erected in a night of flaring
Speaker 1: lightning and roaring waters on the towering cliffs of the Isle.
Speaker 1: Now in the dawn the sky shone blue and clear.
Speaker 1: The rising sun made jewels of the dripping leaves. He
Speaker 1: had climbed the cliffs to which he had clung through
Speaker 1: the night, because in the midst of the storm he
Speaker 1: had seen an appalling lance of lightning fork out of
Speaker 1: the black heavens, and the concussion of its stroke, which
Speaker 1: had shaken the whole island, had been accompanied by a
Speaker 1: cataclysmic crash that he doubted could have resulted from a
Speaker 1: riven tree. A dull curiosity had caused him to investigate,
Speaker 1: and now he had found what he sought, and an
Speaker 1: animal like uneasiness possessed him a sense of lurking peril.
Speaker 1: Among the trees reared a broken dome like structure, built
Speaker 1: of gigantic blocks of the peculiar iron like green stone
Speaker 1: found only on the islands of Vilayette. It seemed incredible
Speaker 1: that human hands could have shaped and placed them, and
Speaker 1: certainly it was beyond human power to have overthrown the
Speaker 1: structure they formed. But the thunderbolt had splintered the ton
Speaker 1: heavy blocks, like so much glass, reduced others to green dust,
Speaker 1: and ripped away the whole arch of the dome. The
Speaker 1: fisherman climbed over the debris and peered in, and what
Speaker 1: he saw brought a grunt from him. Within the ruined dome,
Speaker 1: surrounded by stone, dust and bits of broken masonry, lay
Speaker 1: a man on the golden block. He was clad in
Speaker 1: a sort of skirt and a chagreen girdle. His black hair,
Speaker 1: which fell in a square mane to his massive shoulders,
Speaker 1: was confined about his temples by a narrow gold band.
Speaker 1: On his bare muscular breast lay a curious dagger with
Speaker 1: a jeweled pommel, chagreen bound hilt, and a broad crescent blade.
Speaker 1: It was much like the knife the fisherman wore at
Speaker 1: his hip, but it lacked the serrated edge and was
Speaker 1: made with infinitely greater skill. The fisherman lusted for the weapon.
Speaker 1: The man, of course, was dead, had been dead for
Speaker 1: many centuries. This dome was his tomb. The fisherman did
Speaker 1: not wonder by what art the ancients had preserved the
Speaker 1: body in such a vivid likeness of life, which kept
Speaker 1: the muscular limbs full and unshrunken, the dark flesh vital.
Speaker 1: The dull brain of the Uechi had room only for
Speaker 1: his desire for the knife, with its delicate waving lines
Speaker 1: along the dully gleaming blade. Scrambling down into the dome,
Speaker 1: he lifted the weapon from the man's breast, and as
Speaker 1: he did so, a strange and terrible thing came to pass.
Speaker 1: The muscular, dark hands nodded convulsively. The lids flared open,
Speaker 1: revealing great, dark magnetic eyes whose stare struck the startled
Speaker 1: fisherman like a physical blow. He recoiled, dropping the jeweled dagger.
Speaker 1: In his perturbation. On the dais, heaved up to a
Speaker 1: sitting position, and the fisherman gaped at the full extent
Speaker 1: of his size. Thus revealed, his narrowed eyes held the Yuetchi,
Speaker 1: and in those slited orbs he read neither friendliness nor gratitude.
Speaker 1: He saw only a fire as alien and hostile as
Speaker 1: that which burns in the eyes of a tiger. Suddenly
Speaker 1: the man rose and towered above him menace in every aspect.
Speaker 1: There was no room in the fisherman's dull brain for fear,
Speaker 1: at least for such fear as might grip a man
Speaker 1: who has just seen the fundamental laws of nature defied.
Speaker 1: As the great hands fell to his shoulders, he drew
Speaker 1: his saw edged knife and struck upward. With the same motion.
Speaker 1: The blade splintered against the stranger's corded belly as against
Speaker 1: a steel column, and then the fisherman's thick neck broke
Speaker 1: like a rotten twig in the giant hands. End of
Speaker 1: chapter one, Chapter two of The Devil in Iron by
Speaker 1: Robert E. Howard. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
Speaker 1: Chapter two jehungir Aga, lord of Cahawarzum and keeper of
Speaker 1: the coastal border, scanned once more the ornate parchment scroll
Speaker 1: with its peacock seal, and laughed shortly and sardonically well
Speaker 1: bluntly demanded his counselor goznaby Jehungir shrugged his shoulders. He
Speaker 1: was a handsome man with the merciless pride of birth
Speaker 1: and accomplishment. The king grows short of patience, said he
Speaker 1: in his own hand. He complains bitterly of what he
Speaker 1: calls my failure to guard the frontier. By tarim if
Speaker 1: I cannot deal a blow to these robbers of the steps,
Speaker 1: Khawarzum may own a new lord. Kasnavi tugged his gray
Speaker 1: shot beard in meditation. Yest Gerd, King of Turan, was
Speaker 1: the mightiest monarch in the world. In his palace in
Speaker 1: the great port city of Agrappour, was heaped the plunder
Speaker 1: of empires. His fleets of purple sailed war galleys had
Speaker 1: made Vilayet and Hyrcanian Lake. The dark skinned people of
Speaker 1: Zamora paid him tribute, as did the eastern province of Koth.
Speaker 1: The Schemites bowed to his rule as far west as Sushan.
Speaker 1: His armies ravaged the borders of Stygia in the south
Speaker 1: and the snowy lands of the Hyperboreans in the north.
Speaker 1: His riders bore torch and sword westward into Brythumi and
Speaker 1: Ophir and Corinthia, even to the borders of Namidia. His
Speaker 1: gilt helmeted swordmen had trampled hosts under their horses. Hoofs
Speaker 1: and walled cities went up in flames at his command.
Speaker 1: In the glutted slave markets of Agrapur, Sultanipur, Khawar, zim Chapur,
Speaker 1: and Khorusen women were sold for three small silver coins.
Speaker 1: Blonde Baruthians, tawny Stygians, dark haired Samorians, ebund Kushites, olive
Speaker 1: skinned Chemites. Yet, while his swift horsemen overthrew armies far
Speaker 1: from his frontiers, at his very borders, and audacious foe
Speaker 1: plucked his beard with a red, dripping and smoke stained hand.
Speaker 1: On the broad steps between the Sea of Vilayet and
Speaker 1: the borders of the easternmost Hiberian kingdoms, a new race
Speaker 1: has sprung up in the past half century, formed originally
Speaker 1: of fleeing criminals, broken men, escaped slaves, and deserting soldiers.
Speaker 1: They were men of many crimes in countries, some born
Speaker 1: on the steps, some fleeing from the kingdoms in the west.
Speaker 1: They were called Kosakh, which means wastrel, dwelling on the
Speaker 1: wilde open steps. Owning no law but their own peculiar code,
Speaker 1: they had become a people capable of defying the Grand monarch. Seaselessly.
Speaker 1: They raided the Turanian frontier, retiring in the steps when
Speaker 1: defeated with the pirates of Villayette, men of much the
Speaker 1: same breed, they harried the coast, preying off the merchant
Speaker 1: ships which plied between the Hyrcanian ports. How am I
Speaker 1: to crush these wolves, demanded Jehungir. If I follow them
Speaker 1: into the steps, I run the risky either of being
Speaker 1: cut off and destroyed, or having them elude me entirely
Speaker 1: and burn the city in my absence. Of late, they
Speaker 1: have been more daring than ever. That is because of
Speaker 1: the new chief who has risen among them, answered Gosnavi.
Speaker 1: You know whom I mean, I replied Jehungir feelingly. It
Speaker 1: is that devil Knan. He is even wilder than the Kozaks.
Speaker 1: Yet he is crafty as a mountain lion. It is
Speaker 1: more through wild animal instinct than through intelligence, answered Gosnavi.
Speaker 1: The other Kozakhs are at least descendants of civilized men.
Speaker 1: He is a barbarian. But to dispose of him would
Speaker 1: be to deal them a crippling blow. But how demanded Jehungir,
Speaker 1: He has repeatedly cut his way out of spots that
Speaker 1: seemed certain death for him, And by instinct or cunning,
Speaker 1: he has avoided or escaped every trap set for him.
Speaker 1: For every beast stand for every man, there is a
Speaker 1: trap he will not escape, quoth Gosnabi. When we have
Speaker 1: parleyed with the Kozakhs for the ransom of captives, I
Speaker 1: have observed this man Conan. He has a keen relish
Speaker 1: for women and strong drink. Have your captive Octavia fetched here?
Speaker 1: Jehungir clapped his hands, and an impassive crushite eunuch an
Speaker 1: image of shining ebony and silken pantaloons bowed before him
Speaker 1: and went to do his bidding. Presently he returned, leading
Speaker 1: by the wrist a tall, handsome girl whose yellow hair,
Speaker 1: clear eyes, and fair skin identified her as a pure
Speaker 1: blooded member of her race. Her scanty silk tunic girded
Speaker 1: at the way, displayed the marvelous contours of her magnificent figure,
Speaker 1: Her fine eyes flashed with resentment, and her red lips
Speaker 1: were sulky. But submission had been taught her during her captivity.
Speaker 1: She stood with hanging head before her master until he
Speaker 1: motioned her to a seat on the divan beside him.
Speaker 1: Then he looked inquiringly at Kozhnavi. We must lure Conan
Speaker 1: away from the Coszakhs, said the councilor abruptly. There. War
Speaker 1: camp is at present pitched somewhere on the lower reaches
Speaker 1: of the Saporoska River, which, as you well know, is
Speaker 1: a wilderness of reeds, a swampy jungle in which our
Speaker 1: last expedition was cut to pieces by those masterless devils.
Speaker 1: I am not likely to forget that, said chehungir Riley.
Speaker 1: There is uninhabited island near the mainland, said Gosnabi, known
Speaker 1: as zappor the Fortified, because of some ancient ruins upon it.
Speaker 1: There is a peculiarity about it which makes it perfect
Speaker 1: for our purpose. It has no shore line, but rises
Speaker 1: sheer out of the sea and cliffs one hundred and
Speaker 1: fifty feet tall. Not even an ape could negotiate them.
Speaker 1: The only place where a man can go up or
Speaker 1: down is a narrow path on the western side that
Speaker 1: has the appearance of a worn stair carved into the
Speaker 1: solid rock of the cliffs. If we could trap Konan
Speaker 1: on that island alone, we could hunt him down at
Speaker 1: our leisure with bows, as men hunt a lion as well.
Speaker 1: Wish for the moon, said Jehungir impatiently. Shall we send
Speaker 1: him a messenger bidding him climb the cliffs and await
Speaker 1: our coming In effect, yes, seeing Jahangir's look of amazement,
Speaker 1: cost not be continued, we will ask for a parley
Speaker 1: with the Kozakhs in regard to prisoners at the edge
Speaker 1: of the steps by Fort Gory. As usual, we will
Speaker 1: go with a force, and in camp outside the castle,
Speaker 1: they will come with an equal force, and the party
Speaker 1: will go forward with the usual distrust and suspicion. But
Speaker 1: this time we will take with us, as if by
Speaker 1: casual chance, your beautiful captive Octavia changed color and listened
Speaker 1: with intensified interest as the counselor nodded toward her. She
Speaker 1: will use all her whiles to attract Knan's attention. That
Speaker 1: should not be difficult to that wild reaver. She should
Speaker 1: appear a dazzling vision of loveliness. Her vitality and substantial
Speaker 1: figure should appeal to him more vividly than would one
Speaker 1: of the doll like beauty of your seraglio. Octavia sprang up,
Speaker 1: her white fists clenched, her eyes blazing, and her figure
Speaker 1: quivering with outraged anger. You would force me to play
Speaker 1: the trollop with this barbarian, she exclaimed, I will not.
Speaker 1: I am no market block slut to smirk an ogul
Speaker 1: at a steps robber. I am the daughter of a
Speaker 1: Namidian lord. You were of the Namdian nobility before my
Speaker 1: riders carried you off, returned Jehungir cynically. Now you I'm
Speaker 1: merely a slave who will do as she is bid.
Speaker 1: I will not. She raged, on the contrary, rejoined Jehungar
Speaker 1: with studied cruelty. You will, I like Gaznavii's plan, You
Speaker 1: Prince among counselors. Knan will probably wish to buy her.
Speaker 1: You will refuse to sell her, of course, or to
Speaker 1: exchange her for her Cannyan prisoners. He may then try
Speaker 1: to steal her or take her by force, though I
Speaker 1: do not think even he would break the parly truce anyway.
Speaker 1: We must be prepared for whatever he might attempt then
Speaker 1: shortly after the parley, before he has time to forget
Speaker 1: all about her, we will send a messenger to him
Speaker 1: under a flag of truce, accusing him of stealing the
Speaker 1: girl and demanding her return. He may kill the messenger,
Speaker 1: but at least he will think that she has escaped.
Speaker 1: Then we will send a spy. A you what chief
Speaker 1: fisherman will do to the Kosak camp? Who will tell
Speaker 1: Knan that Octavia is hiding on Zappor? If I know
Speaker 1: my man, he will go straight to that place. But
Speaker 1: we do not know that he will go alone. Jehangir argued,
Speaker 1: does a man take a band of warriors with him
Speaker 1: when going to a rendezvous with a woman he desires?
Speaker 1: Retorted Gaznavi, the chances are that he will go alone,
Speaker 1: but we will need to take care of the other alternative.
Speaker 1: We will not await him on the island, where we
Speaker 1: might be trapped ourselves, but among the reeds of a
Speaker 1: marshy point which juts out to within a thousand yards
Speaker 1: of Zappor. If he brings a large force, we'll beat
Speaker 1: a retreat and think up another plot. If he comes
Speaker 1: alone or with a small party, we will have him.
Speaker 1: Depend upon it he will come remembering your charming slaves,
Speaker 1: smiles and meaning glances. I will never descend to such shame.
Speaker 1: Octavia was wild with fury and humiliation. I will die first.
Speaker 1: You will not die, my rebellious beauty, said Jehungir, but
Speaker 1: you will be subjected to a very painful and humiliating experience.
Speaker 1: He clapped his hands and Octavia paled. This time, it
Speaker 1: was not the Kushite who entered, but a Shemite, a
Speaker 1: heavily muscled man of medium height with a short, curled
Speaker 1: blue black beard. Here is work for you, gilson, said Jehungir.
Speaker 1: Take this fool and play with her awhile, yet be
Speaker 1: careful not to spoil her beauty. With an inarticulate grunt,
Speaker 1: the Shemite seized Octavia's wrist, and at the grasp of
Speaker 1: his iron fingers, all the defiance went out of her.
Speaker 1: With a piteous cry. She tore away and threw herself
Speaker 1: on her knees before her implacable master, sobbing incoherently from mercy.
Speaker 1: Jahangir dismissed the disappointed torturer with a gesture and said
Speaker 1: to Kaznavi, if your plan succeeds, I will fill your
Speaker 1: lap with gold. End of chapter two Chapter three of
Speaker 1: The Devil in Iron by Robert E. Howard. The Sleebrivox
Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. Chapter three. In the
Speaker 1: darkness before dawn, an unaccustomed sound disturbed the solitude that
Speaker 1: slumbered over the reedy marshes and the misty waters of
Speaker 1: the coast. It was not a drowsy waterfowl, nor a
Speaker 1: waking beast. It was a human who struggled through the
Speaker 1: thick reeds, which were taller than a man's head. It
Speaker 1: was a woman. Had there been anyone to see, tall
Speaker 1: and yellow haired, her splendid limbs molded by her bedraggled tunic,
Speaker 1: Octavia had escaped in good earnest, every outraged fiber of
Speaker 1: her still tingling from her experience in a captivity that
Speaker 1: had become unendurable. Jehungir's mastery of her had been bad enough,
Speaker 1: but with deliberate fiendishness, Jehungir had given her to a
Speaker 1: nobleman whose name was a byword for degeneracy. Even in Koharazim,
Speaker 1: Octavia's resilient flesh crawled and quivered at her memories. Desperation
Speaker 1: had nerved her climb from jalal Kan's castle on a
Speaker 1: rope made of strips from torn tapestries, and chance had
Speaker 1: led her to a picketed horse. She had ridden all night,
Speaker 1: and dawn found her with a foundered steed on the
Speaker 1: swampy shores of the sea. Quivering with the abhorrence of
Speaker 1: being dragged back to the revolting destiny planned for her
Speaker 1: by jalal Khan, she plunged into the morass, seeking a
Speaker 1: hiding place from the pursuit she expected. When the reeds
Speaker 1: grew thinner around her and the water rose about her thighs,
Speaker 1: she saw the dim loom of an island ahead of her.
Speaker 1: A broad span of water lay between, but she did
Speaker 1: not hesitate. She waded out until the low waves were
Speaker 1: lapping about her waist. Then she struck out, strongly, swimming
Speaker 1: with a vigor that promised unusual endurance. As she neared
Speaker 1: the island, she saw that it rose sheer from the
Speaker 1: water and castle like cliffs. She reached them at last,
Speaker 1: but found neither ledge to stand on below the water,
Speaker 1: nor to cling to above. She swam on, following the
Speaker 1: curve of the cliffs, the strain of her long flight
Speaker 1: beginning to weigh her limbs. Her hands fluttered along the
Speaker 1: sheer stone, and suddenly they found a depression. With a
Speaker 1: sobbing gasp of relief, she pulled herself out of the
Speaker 1: water and clung there, a dripping white goddess. In the
Speaker 1: dim starlight. She had come upon what seemed to be
Speaker 1: steps carved in the cliff. Up them, she went, flattening
Speaker 1: herself against the stone as she caught the faint clack
Speaker 1: of muffled oars. She strained her eyes and thought she
Speaker 1: made out a vague bulk moving toward the reedy point
Speaker 1: she had just quitted, but it was too far away
Speaker 1: for her to be sure in the darkness, and presently
Speaker 1: the faint sound ceased, and she continued her climb. If
Speaker 1: it were her pursuers, she knew of no better core
Speaker 1: than to hide on the island. She knew that most
Speaker 1: of the islands off that Marshy Coast were uninhabited. This
Speaker 1: might be a pirate's lair, but even pirates would be
Speaker 1: preferable to the beast she had escaped. A vagrant thought
Speaker 1: crossed her mind as she climbed, in which she mentally
Speaker 1: compared her former master with the Kozakh chief with whom,
Speaker 1: by compulsion she had shamelessly flirted in the pavilions of
Speaker 1: the camp A fort Agori, where the Hyrcanian lords had
Speaker 1: parleyed with the warriors of the steps. His burning gaze
Speaker 1: had frightened and humiliated her, but his cleanly elemental fierceness
Speaker 1: set him above jalal Khan, a monster such as only
Speaker 1: an overly opulent civilization can produce. She scrambled up over
Speaker 1: the cliff edge and looked timidly at the dense shadows
Speaker 1: which confronted her. The trees grew close to the cliffs,
Speaker 1: presenting a solid mass of blackness. Something worred above her head,
Speaker 1: and she cowered, even though realizing it was only a beat.
Speaker 1: She did not like the look of those ebony shadows,
Speaker 1: but she set her teeth and went toward them, trying
Speaker 1: not to think of snakes. Her bare feet made no
Speaker 1: sound in the spongey a loam under the trees. Once
Speaker 1: among them, the darkness closed frighteningly about her. She had
Speaker 1: not taken a dozen steps when she was no longer
Speaker 1: able to look back and see the cliffs and the
Speaker 1: sea beyond a few steps more, and she became hopelessly
Speaker 1: confused and lost her sense of direction through the tangled branches.
Speaker 1: Not even a star peered. She groped and floundered on blindly,
Speaker 1: and then came to a sudden halt. Somewhat ahead, there
Speaker 1: had been the rhythmical booming of a drum. It was
Speaker 1: not such a sound as she would have expected to
Speaker 1: hear in that time and place. Then she forgot it,
Speaker 1: as she was aware of a presence near her. She
Speaker 1: could not see, but she knew that something was standing
Speaker 1: beside her in the darkness. With a stifled cry, she
Speaker 1: shrank back, and as she did so, something that even
Speaker 1: in her panic, she recognized as a human arm curved
Speaker 1: about her waist. She screamed and threw all her supple
Speaker 1: young strength into a wild lunge for freedom, but her
Speaker 1: captor caught her up like a child, crushing her frantic
Speaker 1: resistance with ease. The silence with which her frenzied pleased
Speaker 1: and protests were received, added to her terror as she
Speaker 1: felt herself being carried through the darkness toward the distant drum,
Speaker 1: which still pulsed and muttered. End of chapter three, Chapter
Speaker 1: four of The Devil in Iron by Robert E. Howard.
Speaker 1: This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter four.
Speaker 1: As the first tinge of dawn reddened the sea, a
Speaker 1: small boat with a solitary occupant approached the cliffs. The
Speaker 1: man in the boat was a picturesque figure. A crimson
Speaker 1: scarf was knotted about his head. His wide silk breeches
Speaker 1: of flaming hue were upheld by a broad sash, which
Speaker 1: likewise supported a scimitar in a chagrin scabbard. His gilt
Speaker 1: worked leather boots suggested the horsemen rather than the seamen,
Speaker 1: But he handled his boat with skill. Through His widely
Speaker 1: open white silk shirt showed his broad muscular breast burned
Speaker 1: brown by the sun. The muscles of his heavy bronze
Speaker 1: arms rippled as he pulled the oars with an almost
Speaker 1: feline ease of motion. A fierce vitality that was evident
Speaker 1: in every feature and motion set him apart from common men.
Speaker 1: Yet his expression was neither savage nor somber, though the
Speaker 1: smoldering eyes hinted at ferocity easily awakened. This was conan
Speaker 1: who had wandered into the armed camps of the Kazakhs
Speaker 1: with no other possession than his wits, and his sword,
Speaker 1: and who had carved his way to leadership among them.
Speaker 1: He paddled to the carbon stair as one familiar with
Speaker 1: his environs, and more the boat to a projection of
Speaker 1: the rock. Then he went up the worn steps without hesitation.
Speaker 1: He was keenly alert, not because he consciously suspected hidden danger,
Speaker 1: but because alertness was a part of him, wetted by
Speaker 1: the wild existence. He followed what Goznapi had considered animal
Speaker 1: intuition or some sixth cents, was merely the razor edge,
Speaker 1: faculties and savage wit of the Barbarian Konan had no
Speaker 1: instinct to tell him that men were watching him from
Speaker 1: a covert among the reeds of the mainland. As he
Speaker 1: climbed the cliff, one of these men breathed deeply and
Speaker 1: stealthily lifted a bow. Jehangir caught his wrist and hissed
Speaker 1: an oath into his ear. Fool, will you betray us?
Speaker 1: Don't you realize he is out of range. Let him
Speaker 1: get upon the island. He will go looking for the girl.
Speaker 1: We will stay here. Awhile he may have sensed our
Speaker 1: presence or guessed our plot. He may have warriors hidden
Speaker 1: somewhere we will wait in an hour. If nothing suspicious occurs,
Speaker 1: we'll row up to the foot of the stair and
Speaker 1: await him there. If he does not return in a
Speaker 1: reasonable time, some of us will go upon the island
Speaker 1: and hunt him down. But I do not wish to
Speaker 1: do that if it can be helped. Some of us
Speaker 1: are sure to die if we have to go into
Speaker 1: the bush after him. I had rather catch him descending
Speaker 1: the stair, where we can feather him with arrows from
Speaker 1: a safe distance. Meanwhile, the unsuspecting Cosakh had plunged into
Speaker 1: the forest. He went silently in his soft leather boots,
Speaker 1: his gaze sifting every shadow in eagerness to catch sight
Speaker 1: of the splendid, tawny haired beauty of whom he had
Speaker 1: dreamed ever since he had seen her in the pavilion
Speaker 1: of jehungir Aga by Fort Gory. He would have desired
Speaker 1: her even if she had displayed repugnance toward him, But
Speaker 1: her cryptic smiles and glances had fired his blood, and
Speaker 1: with all the lawless violence which was his heritage, he
Speaker 1: desired that white skinned, golden haired woman of civilization. He
Speaker 1: had been on Sappor before less than a month ago,
Speaker 1: he had held a secret conclave here with a pirate crew.
Speaker 1: He knew that he was approaching a point where he
Speaker 1: could see the mysterious ruins which gave the island its name,
Speaker 1: and he wondered if he would find the girl hiding
Speaker 1: among them. Even with the thought, he stopped, as though
Speaker 1: struck dead. Ahead of him among the trees rose something
Speaker 1: that his reason told him was not possible. It was
Speaker 1: a great, dark, green wall with towers rearing beyond the battlements.
Speaker 1: Konan stood paralyzed in the disruption of his faculties, which
Speaker 1: demoralizes any one who is confronted by an impossible negation
Speaker 1: of sanity. He doubted neither his sight nor his reason,
Speaker 1: but something was monstrously out of joint. Less than a
Speaker 1: month ago, only broken ruins had showed among the trees.
Speaker 1: What human hands could rear such a mammoth pile as
Speaker 1: now met his eyes. In the few weeks which had elapsed, besides,
Speaker 1: the buccaneers who roamed Vilayette ceaselessly would have learned of
Speaker 1: any work going on on such a stupendous scale, and
Speaker 1: would have informed the Cozakhs. There was no explaining this thing,
Speaker 1: but it was so. He was on Zappor, and that
Speaker 1: fantastic heap of towering masonry was on Zappor, and all
Speaker 1: was madness and paradox, Yet it was all true. He
Speaker 1: wheeled back through the jungle, down the carbon stair, and
Speaker 1: across the blue waters to the distant camp at the
Speaker 1: mouth of the Zaparoska. In that moment of unreasoning panic,
Speaker 1: even the thought of halting so near the island sea
Speaker 1: was repugnant. He would leave it behind him, and quit
Speaker 1: the armed camps and the steps, and put a thousand
Speaker 1: miles between him and the blue, mysterious east, where the
Speaker 1: most basic laws of nature could be set at naught
Speaker 1: by what diobolism He could not guess for an instant
Speaker 1: the future fate of kingdoms that hinged on this gay
Speaker 1: clad barbarian hung in the balance. It was a small
Speaker 1: thing that tipped the scales, merely a shred of silk
Speaker 1: hanging on a bush that caught his uneasy glance. He
Speaker 1: leaned to it, his nostrils expanding, his nerves, quivering to
Speaker 1: a subtle stimulant on that bit of torn cloth, so
Speaker 1: faint that it was less with his physical faculties than
Speaker 1: by some obscure instinctive sense that he recognized it lingered
Speaker 1: the tantalizing perfume that he connected with the sweet, firm
Speaker 1: flesh of the woman he had seen in Jahangir's pavilion.
Speaker 1: The fisherman had not lied. Then she was here. Then
Speaker 1: in the soil he saw a single track of a
Speaker 1: bare foot, long and slender, but a man's, not a woman's,
Speaker 1: and sunk deeper than was natural. The conclusion was obvious.
Speaker 1: The man who made that track was carrying a burden,
Speaker 1: and what should it be but the girl the Kozakh
Speaker 1: was seeking. He stood silently, facing seeing the dark towers
Speaker 1: that loomed through the trees, his eyes slits of blue
Speaker 1: bale fire. Desire for the yellow haired woman vied with
Speaker 1: a sudden primordial rage at whoever had taken her. His
Speaker 1: human passion fought down his ultra human fears, and, dropping
Speaker 1: into the stalking crouch of a hunting panther, he glided
Speaker 1: toward the walls, taking advantage of the dense foliage to
Speaker 1: escape detection from the battlements. As he approached, he saw
Speaker 1: that the walls were composed of the same green stone
Speaker 1: that had formed the ruins, and he was haunted by
Speaker 1: a vague sense of familiarity. It was as if he
Speaker 1: looked upon something he had never seen before, but had
Speaker 1: dreamed of or pictured mentally. At last he recognized the sensation.
Speaker 1: The walls and towers followed the plan of the ruins.
Speaker 1: It was as if the crumbling lines had grown back
Speaker 1: into the structures they originally were. No sound disturbed the
Speaker 1: morning quiet as Knan stole to the foot of the wall,
Speaker 1: which rose sheer from the luxuriant growth on the southern
Speaker 1: reaches of the inland Sea. The vegetation was almost tropical.
Speaker 1: He saw no one on the battlements, heard no sounds within.
Speaker 1: He saw a massive gait a short distance to his left,
Speaker 1: and had had no reason to suppose that it was
Speaker 1: not locked and guarded. But he believed that the woman
Speaker 1: he sought was somewhere beyond that wall, and the course
Speaker 1: he took was characteristically reckless. Above him, vine festooned branches
Speaker 1: reached out toward the battlements. He went up a great
Speaker 1: tree like a cat, and reaching a point above the parapet,
Speaker 1: he gripped a thick limb with both hands, swung back
Speaker 1: and forth at arm's length until he had gained momentum,
Speaker 1: and then let go and catapulted through the air, landing
Speaker 1: catlike on the battlements. Crouching there, he stared down into
Speaker 1: the streets of a city. The circumference of the wall
Speaker 1: was not great, but the number of green stone buildings
Speaker 1: it contained was surprising. They were three or four stories
Speaker 1: in height, mainly flat roofed, reflecting a fine architectural style.
Speaker 1: These streets converged like the spokes of a wheel, into
Speaker 1: an octagon shaped court in the center of the town,
Speaker 1: which gave upon a lofty edifice, which, with its dome
Speaker 1: and towers, dominated the whole city. He saw no one
Speaker 1: moving in the streets or looking out of the windows,
Speaker 1: though the sun was already coming up. The silence that
Speaker 1: reigned there might have been that of a dead and
Speaker 1: deserted city. A narrow stone stair ascended the wall near him.
Speaker 1: Down this he went, houses shouldered so closely to the
Speaker 1: wall that half way down the stair he found himself
Speaker 1: within arm's length of a window and halted to peer in.
Speaker 1: There were no bars, and the silk curtains were caught
Speaker 1: back with satin chords. He looked into a chamber whose
Speaker 1: walls were hidden by dark velvet tapestries. The floor was
Speaker 1: covered with thick rugs, and there were benches of polished
Speaker 1: ebony and an ivory dais heaped with furs. He was
Speaker 1: about to continue his descent when he heard the sound
Speaker 1: of some one approaching in the street below. Before the
Speaker 1: unknown person could come round a corner and see him
Speaker 1: on the stair, he stepped quickly across the intervening space
Speaker 1: and dropped lightly into the room. Drawing his scimitar, he
Speaker 1: stood for an instant statue like then as nothing happened.
Speaker 1: He was moving across the rugs toward an arched doorway
Speaker 1: when a hanging was drawn aside, revealing a cushioned alcove,
Speaker 1: from which a slender, dark haired girl regarded him with
Speaker 1: languid eyes. Conan glared at her tensely, expecting her momentarily
Speaker 1: to start screaming, but she merely smothered a yawn with
Speaker 1: a dainty hand, rose from the alcove and leaned negligently
Speaker 1: against the hangings, which she held with one hand. She
Speaker 1: was undoubtedly a member of the white race, though her
Speaker 1: skin was very dark, her square cut hair was black
Speaker 1: as midnight, her only garment a wisp of silk about
Speaker 1: her supple hips. Presently, she spoke, but the tongue was
Speaker 1: unfamiliar to him, and he shook his head. She yawned again,
Speaker 1: stretched lithely, and without any show of fear or surprise,
Speaker 1: shifted to a language he did understand, a dialect of
Speaker 1: you at she which sounded strangely archaic. Are you looking
Speaker 1: for some one? She asked, as indifferently as if the
Speaker 1: invasion of her chamber by an arm stranger were the
Speaker 1: most common thing imaginable. Who are you, he demanded? I
Speaker 1: am you, telly, she answered languidly. I must have feasted
Speaker 1: late last night. I am so sleepy. Now who are you?
Speaker 1: I am Conan, a Hetmann among the Cozaks, he answered,
Speaker 1: watching her narrowly. He believed her attitude to be a pose,
Speaker 1: and expected her to try to escape from the chamber
Speaker 1: arouse the house. But though a velvet rope that might
Speaker 1: be a signal chord hung near her, she did not
Speaker 1: reach for it. Knan, she repeated drowsily. You are not
Speaker 1: a Dagonian. I suppose you are mercenary. Have you cut
Speaker 1: the heads off many yuetchi? I do not war on
Speaker 1: water rats, he snorted, but they are very terrible, She murmured.
Speaker 1: I remember when they were our slaves, but they revolted
Speaker 1: and burned and slew. Only the magic of kosotral Kel
Speaker 1: has kept them from the walls. She paused a puzzled look,
Speaker 1: struggling with the sleepiness of her expression. I forgot, she muttered,
Speaker 1: they did climb the walls. Last night. There was shouting
Speaker 1: and fire and people calling in vain on Kosatral. She
Speaker 1: shook her head as if to clear it. But that
Speaker 1: cannot be, she murmured, because I am alive, and I
Speaker 1: thought I was dead. Oh to the devil with it.
Speaker 1: She came across the chamber, and, taking Conan's hand, drew
Speaker 1: him to the dais. He yielded in bewilderment and uncertainty.
Speaker 1: The girl smiled at him like a sleepy child. Her long,
Speaker 1: silky lashes drooped over dusky clouded eyes. She ran her
Speaker 1: fingers through his thick black locks, as if to assure
Speaker 1: herself of his reality. It was a dream, she yawned,
Speaker 1: Perhaps it is all a dream. I feel like a
Speaker 1: dream now. I don't care. I can't remember something I
Speaker 1: have forgotten. There is something I cannot understand. But I
Speaker 1: grow so sleepy when I try to think anyway, It
Speaker 1: doesn't matter. What do you mean, he asked, uneasily. You
Speaker 1: said they climbed the walls last night. Who thee you et? She?
Speaker 1: I thought, so anyway? A cloud of smoke hit everything.
Speaker 1: But a naked, blood stained devil caught me by the
Speaker 1: throat and drove his knife into my breast. Oh it hurt,
Speaker 1: but it was a dream, because see there was no scar.
Speaker 1: She idly inspected her smooth bosom, and then sank upon
Speaker 1: Conan's lap and passed her supple arms around his massive neck.
Speaker 1: I cannot remember, she murmured, nestling her dark head against
Speaker 1: his mighty breast. Everything is dim and misty. It does
Speaker 1: not matter. You are no dream. You are strong. Let
Speaker 1: us live while we can love me. He cradled the
Speaker 1: girl's glossy head in the bind of his heavy arm
Speaker 1: and kissed her full red lips with unfeigned relish. You
Speaker 1: are strong, she repeated, her voice, waning, love me, Love.
Speaker 1: The sleepy murmur faded away, The dusky eyes closed, the
Speaker 1: long lashes drooping over the sensuous cheeks. The supple body
Speaker 1: relaxed in Conan's arms. He scowled down at her she
Speaker 1: seemed to partake of the illusion that haunted this whole city,
Speaker 1: But the firm resilience of her limbs under his questing
Speaker 1: fingers convinced him that he had a living human girl
Speaker 1: in his arms, and not the shadow of a dream.
Speaker 1: No less disturbed, he hastily laid her on the furs
Speaker 1: upon the dais. Her sleep was too deep to be natural.
Speaker 1: He decided that she must be an addict of some drug,
Speaker 1: perhaps like the black lotus of Zuthal. Then he found
Speaker 1: something else to make him wonder. Among the furs on
Speaker 1: the dais was a gargious spotted skin whose predomince Hugh
Speaker 1: was golden. It was not a clever copy, but the
Speaker 1: skin of an actual beast, and that beast Conan knew
Speaker 1: had been extinct for at least a thousand years. It
Speaker 1: was the great golden leopard, which figures so predominantly in
Speaker 1: Hiberian legendary, and which the ancient artists delighted to portray
Speaker 1: in pigments and marble. Shaking his head in bewilderment, Conan
Speaker 1: passed through the archway into a winding corridor. Silence hung
Speaker 1: over the house, but outside he heard a sound which
Speaker 1: his keen ears recognized as something ascending the stair on
Speaker 1: the wall from which he had entered the building. An
Speaker 1: instant later, he was startled to hear something land with
Speaker 1: a soft but weighty thud on the floor of the
Speaker 1: chamber he had just quitted. Turning quickly away, he hurried
Speaker 1: along the twisting hallway until something on the floor before
Speaker 1: him brought him to a halt. It was a human
Speaker 1: figure which lay half in the hall and half in
Speaker 1: an opening that obviously was normally concealed by a door
Speaker 1: which was a duplicate of the panels of the wall.
Speaker 1: It was a man, dark and lean, clad only in
Speaker 1: a silk loin cloth, with the shaven head and cruel features,
Speaker 1: and he lay as if death had struck him. Just
Speaker 1: as he was emerging from the panel, Conan bent above him,
Speaker 1: seeking the cause of his death, and discovered him to
Speaker 1: be merely sunk in the same deep sleep as the
Speaker 1: girl in the chamber. But why should he select such
Speaker 1: a place for his slumbers. While meditating on the matter,
Speaker 1: Conan was galvanized by a sound behind him. Something was
Speaker 1: moving up the corridor in his direction. A quick glance
Speaker 1: down it showed that it ended in a great door
Speaker 1: which might be locked. Knan jerked the supine body out
Speaker 1: of the panel entrance and stepped through, pulling the panels
Speaker 1: shut after him. A click told him it was locked
Speaker 1: in place. Standing in utter darkness, he heard a shuffling
Speaker 1: tread halt just outside the door, and a faint chill
Speaker 1: trickled along his spine that was no human step, nor
Speaker 1: that of any beast he had ever encountered. There was
Speaker 1: an instant of silence that a faint creak of wood
Speaker 1: and metal. Putting out his hand, he felt the door
Speaker 1: straining and bending inward, as if a great weight were
Speaker 1: being steadily borne against it from the outside. As he
Speaker 1: reached for his sword, this ceased, and he heard a
Speaker 1: strange slobbery mouthing that prickled the sharp hairs on his
Speaker 1: scalp scimitar in hand. He began backing away, and his
Speaker 1: heels felt step down, which he nearly tumbled. He was
Speaker 1: in a narrow staircase leading downward. He groped his way
Speaker 1: down in the blackness, feeling for but not finding some
Speaker 1: other opening in the walls. Just as he decided that
Speaker 1: he was no longer in the house, but deepened the
Speaker 1: earth under it the steps ceased in a level tunnel
Speaker 1: end of chapter four, Chapter five of The Devil in
Speaker 1: Iron by Robert E. Howard. This LibriVox recording is in
Speaker 1: the public domain. Chapter five. Along the black silent tunnel,
Speaker 1: Conan groped momentarily, dreading a fall into some unseen pit.
Speaker 1: But at last his feet struck steps again, and he
Speaker 1: went up them until he came to a door on
Speaker 1: which his fumbling fingers found a metal. He came out
Speaker 1: into a dim and lofty room of enormous proportions. Fantastic
Speaker 1: columns marched around the mottled walls, upholding a ceiling which,
Speaker 1: at once translucent and dusky, seemed like a cloudy midnight sky,
Speaker 1: giving an illusion of impossible height. If any light filtered
Speaker 1: in from the outside, it was curiously altered in a
Speaker 1: brooding twilight. Conan moved across the bare green floor. The
Speaker 1: great room was circular, pierced on one side by the
Speaker 1: great bronze valves of a giant door. Opposite this, on
Speaker 1: a dais, against the wall, up to which led broad
Speaker 1: curving steps, there stood a throne of copper, and when
Speaker 1: Conan saw what was coiled on this throne, he retreated
Speaker 1: hastily lifting his scimitar. Then, as the thing did not move,
Speaker 1: he scanned it more closely, and presently mounted the glass
Speaker 1: steps and stared down at it. It was a gigantic snake,
Speaker 1: apparently carved in some jade like substance. Each scale stood
Speaker 1: out as distinctly as in real life, and the iridescent
Speaker 1: colors were vividly reproduced. The great wedge shaped head was
Speaker 1: half submerged in the folds of its trunk, so neither
Speaker 1: the eyes nor jaws were visible. Recognition stirred in his mind.
Speaker 1: This snake was evidently meant to represent one of those
Speaker 1: grim monsters of the marsh, which in past ages had
Speaker 1: haunted the reedy edges of Vilayette's southern shores. But like
Speaker 1: the golden leopard, they had been extinct for hundreds of years.
Speaker 1: Conan had seen rude images of them in miniature among
Speaker 1: the idle huts of the US, and there was a
Speaker 1: description of them in the Book of Scilos, which drew
Speaker 1: on prehistoric sources. Conan admired the scaly torso thick as
Speaker 1: his thigh and obviously of great length, and he reached
Speaker 1: out and laid a curious hand on the thing. And
Speaker 1: as he did so, his heart nearly stopped. An icy
Speaker 1: chill congealed the blood in his veins, and lifted the
Speaker 1: sharp hair on his scalp. Under his hand there was
Speaker 1: not the smooth, brittle surface of glass or metal or stone,
Speaker 1: but the yielding, fibrous mass of a living thing. He
Speaker 1: felt cold, sluggish life flowing under his fingers. His hand
Speaker 1: jerked back in instinctive repulsion, swords shaking in his grasp.
Speaker 1: Horror and revulsion and fear almost choking him. He backed
Speaker 1: away and down the glass steps with painful care, glaring
Speaker 1: in awful fascination at the grizzly thing that slumbered on
Speaker 1: the copper throne. It did not move. He reached the
Speaker 1: bronze door and tried it with his heart in his teeth,
Speaker 1: sweating with fear that he should find himself locked in
Speaker 1: with that slimy horror. But the vows yielded to his touch,
Speaker 1: and he glided through and closed them behind him. He
Speaker 1: found himself in a wide hallway with lofty, tapestried walls,
Speaker 1: where the light was the same twilight gloom. It made
Speaker 1: distant objects indistinct, and that made him uneasy, Rousing thoughts
Speaker 1: of serpents gliding unseen through the dimness. A door at
Speaker 1: the other end seemed miles away in the elusive light.
Speaker 1: Nearer at hand, the tapestry hung in such a way
Speaker 1: as to suggest an opening behind it, and lifting it cautiously,
Speaker 1: he discovered a narrow stair leading up. While he hesitated,
Speaker 1: he heard in the great room he had just left,
Speaker 1: the same shuffling tread he had heard outside the locked panel.
Speaker 1: Had he been followed through the tunnel. He went up
Speaker 1: the stair, hastily, dropping the tapestry in place behind him.
Speaker 1: Emerging presently into a twisting corridor, he took the first
Speaker 1: doorway he came to. He had a twofold purpose in
Speaker 1: his apparently aimless prowling, to escape from the building and
Speaker 1: its mysteries, and to find the Nemidian girl, who he
Speaker 1: felt was imprisoned somewhere in this palace, temple, or whatever
Speaker 1: it was. He believed it was the great domed edifice
Speaker 1: in the center of the city, and it was likely
Speaker 1: that here dwelt the ruler of the town, to whom
Speaker 1: a captive woman would doubtless be brought. He found himself
Speaker 1: in a chamber, not another corridor, and was about to
Speaker 1: retrace his steps when he heard a voice which came
Speaker 1: from behind one of the walls. There was no door
Speaker 1: in that wall, but he leaned close and heard distinctly,
Speaker 1: and an icy chill crawled slowly along his spine. The
Speaker 1: tongue was namidian, but the voice was not human. There
Speaker 1: was a terrifying resonance about it, like a bell tolling
Speaker 1: at midnight. There was no life in the abyss save
Speaker 1: that which was incorporated in me, it told, Nor was
Speaker 1: there light, nor motion, nor any sound. Only the urge
Speaker 1: behind and beyond life guided and impelled me on my
Speaker 1: upward journey, Blind, insensate, inexorable, through ages upon ages, and
Speaker 1: the changeless strata of darkness. I climbed, ensorceled by that
Speaker 1: belling resonance. Conan crouched, forgetful of all else, until its
Speaker 1: hypnotic power caused a strange replacement of faculties and perception
Speaker 1: and sound created the illusion of sight. Conan was no
Speaker 1: longer aware of the voice, save as far off rhythmical
Speaker 1: waves of sound transported beyond his age and his own individuality.
Speaker 1: He was seeing the transmutation of the being men called
Speaker 1: corsatral Kel, which crawled up from the night and the
Speaker 1: abyss ages ago to clothe itself in the substance of
Speaker 1: the material universe. But human flesh was too frail, too paltry,
Speaker 1: to hold the terrific essence that was cosatral Kell. So
Speaker 1: he stood up in the shape and aspect of a man,
Speaker 1: but his flesh was not flesh, nor the bone, bone,
Speaker 1: nor blood. Blood. He became a blasphemy against all nature,
Speaker 1: for he caused to live, and think and act a
Speaker 1: basic substance that before had never known, the pulse and
Speaker 1: stir of animate being. He stalked through the world like
Speaker 1: a god, for no earthly weapon could harm him, and
Speaker 1: to him a sentry was like an hour. In his wonderings,
Speaker 1: he came upon a primitive people inhabiting the island of Dagonia,
Speaker 1: and it pleased him to give this race culture and civilization.
Speaker 1: And by his aid they built the city of dagon
Speaker 1: and they abode there and worshiped him. Strange and grizzly
Speaker 1: were his servants, called from the dark corners of the planet,
Speaker 1: where grim survivals of forgotten ages yet lurked. His house
Speaker 1: in dagon was connected with every other house by tunnels
Speaker 1: through which his shaven headed priests bore victims for the sacrifice.
Speaker 1: But after many ages a fierce and brutish people appeared
Speaker 1: on the shores of the sea. They called themselves Yuetsee,
Speaker 1: and after a fierce battle, they were defeated and enslaved,
Speaker 1: and for nearly a generation they died on the altars
Speaker 1: of Cossatral. His sorcery kept them in bonds. Then their priest,
Speaker 1: a strange, gaunt man of unknown race, plunged into the wilderness,
Speaker 1: and when he returned, he bore a knife that was
Speaker 1: of no earthly substance. It was forged of a meteor,
Speaker 1: which flashed through the sky like a flaming arrow, and
Speaker 1: fell in a far valley. The slaves rose there, saw
Speaker 1: edged crescents cut down the men of Dagon like sheep,
Speaker 1: and against that unearthly knife, the magic of Cassatral was impotent,
Speaker 1: while carnage and slaughter bellowed through the red smoke that
Speaker 1: choked the streets. The grimmest act of that grim drama
Speaker 1: was played in the cryptic dome behind the great diist Chamber,
Speaker 1: with its copper throne and its wall modeled like the
Speaker 1: skin of serpents. From that dome, the uet Sea priest
Speaker 1: emerged alone. He had not slain his foe because he
Speaker 1: wished to hold the threat of his loosing over the
Speaker 1: heads of his own rebuil subjects. He had left Cosatral,
Speaker 1: lying upon the golden dais with the mystic knife across
Speaker 1: his breast, for a spell to hold him senseless and
Speaker 1: inanimate until doomsday. But the ages passed, and the priest died.
Speaker 1: The towers of deserted Dagon crumbled, the tales became dim,
Speaker 1: and the Uet Sea were reduced by plagues and famines
Speaker 1: and war. Two scattered remnants dwelling in squalor along the seashore.
Speaker 1: Only the cryptic Dome resisted the rot of time until
Speaker 1: a chance thunderbolt and the curiosity of a fisherman lifted
Speaker 1: from the breast of the god the magic knife and
Speaker 1: broke the spell. Coosatral kell rose and lived and waxed
Speaker 1: mighty once more. It pleased him to restore the city
Speaker 1: as it was in the days before fall. By his necromancy.
Speaker 1: He lifted the towers from the dust of forgotten millenniums,
Speaker 1: and the folk which had been dust for ages moved
Speaker 1: in life again. But folk who have tasted death, are
Speaker 1: only partly alive. In the dark corners of their souls
Speaker 1: and minds, death still lurks, unconquered by night. The people
Speaker 1: of Dagon moved and loved, hated and feasted, and remembered
Speaker 1: the fall of Dagon and their own slaughter only as
Speaker 1: a dim dream. They moved in an enchanted mist of illusion,
Speaker 1: feeling the strangeness of their existence, but not inquiring the reasons. Therefore,
Speaker 1: with the coming of day they sank into deep sleep,
Speaker 1: to be roused again only by the coming of night,
Speaker 1: which is akin to death. All this rolled in a
Speaker 1: terrible panorama Beforean's consciousness. As he crouched beside the tapestried wall,
Speaker 1: his reasons staggered. All certainty and sanity were swept away,
Speaker 1: leaving a shadowy universe through its stole, hooded figures of
Speaker 1: grisly potentialities. Through the belling of the voice, which was
Speaker 1: like a tolling of triumph over the ordered laws of
Speaker 1: a sane planet, a human sound anchored Conan's mind from
Speaker 1: its flight through spheres of madness. It was the hysterical
Speaker 1: sobbing of a woman. Involuntarily he sprang up. End of
Speaker 1: Chapter five, Section six of the Devil in Iron by
Speaker 1: Robert E. Howard. This Lirivox recording is in the public domain.
Speaker 1: Chapter six Jehangir Aga waited with growing impatience in his
Speaker 1: boat among the reeds. More than an hour passed and
Speaker 1: Konan had not reappeared. Doubtless he was still searching the
Speaker 1: island for the girl he thought to be hidden there.
Speaker 1: But another surmise occurred to the aga. Suppose the hetman
Speaker 1: had left his warriors near by, and that they should
Speaker 1: grow suspicious and come to investigate his long absence. Jehangir
Speaker 1: spoke to the horsemen, and the long boat slid from
Speaker 1: among the reeds and glided toward the carbn stairs, Leaving
Speaker 1: half a dozen men in the boat. He took the
Speaker 1: rest ten mighty archers of Kharazim, inspired helmets and tiger
Speaker 1: skin cloaks, Like hunters invading the retreat of the lion,
Speaker 1: they stole forward under the trees, arrows on strain. Silence
Speaker 1: reigned over the forehat, except when a great green thing
Speaker 1: that might have been a parrot swirled over their heads
Speaker 1: with a low thunder of broad wings, and then spat
Speaker 1: off through the trees with a sudden gesture. Jehungir halted
Speaker 1: his party, and they stared incredulously at the towers that
Speaker 1: showed through the verdure in the distance. Toddim muttered, Jehungir,
Speaker 1: the pirates have rebuilt the ruins. Doubtless Conan is there.
Speaker 1: We must investigate this, a fortified town, this close to
Speaker 1: the mainland. Come with renewed caution. They glided through the trees.
Speaker 1: The game had altered. From pursuers and hunters, they had
Speaker 1: become spies, and as they crept through the tangled growth,
Speaker 1: the man they sought was in peril more deadly than
Speaker 1: their filigreed arrows. Conan realized with a crawling of his
Speaker 1: skin that beyond the wall, the belling voice had ceased.
Speaker 1: He stood motionless as a statue, his gaze fixed on
Speaker 1: a curtained door, through which he knew that a culminating
Speaker 1: horror would presently appear. It was dim and misty in
Speaker 1: the chamber, and Conan's hair began to lift on his scalp.
Speaker 1: As he looked, he saw a head and a pair
Speaker 1: of gigantic shoulders grow out of the twilight gloom. There
Speaker 1: was no sound of footsteps, but the great dusky farm
Speaker 1: grew more distinct until Conan recognized the figure of a man.
Speaker 1: He was clad in sandals, a skirt, and a broad
Speaker 1: chagreen girdle. His square cut mane was confined by a
Speaker 1: circlet of gold. Conan stared at the sweep of the
Speaker 1: monstrous shoulders, the breath of the swelling breast, the mans
Speaker 1: and ridges, and clusters of mussels on torso and limbs,
Speaker 1: the face without weakness and without mercy. The eyes were
Speaker 1: balls of dark fire, and Conan knew that this was Kosatral, Kell,
Speaker 1: the ancient from the Abyss, the god of Degonia. No
Speaker 1: word was spoken, no word was necessary. Cosatral spread his
Speaker 1: great arms, and Conan, crouching beneath him, slashed at the
Speaker 1: giant's belly. Then he bounded back, eyes blazing with surprise.
Speaker 1: The keen edge had rung on the mighty body as
Speaker 1: on an anvil, rebounding without cutting. Then Coosatral came upon
Speaker 1: him in an irresistible surge. There was a fleeting concussion,
Speaker 1: a fierce writhing and intertwining of limbs and bodies, and
Speaker 1: then Conan sprang clear every thew quivering from the violence
Speaker 1: of his efforts. Blood started where the grazing fingers had
Speaker 1: torn the skin. In that instant of contact, he had
Speaker 1: experienced the ultimate madness of blasphemed nature. No human flesh
Speaker 1: had bruised his, but metal, animated and sentient. It was
Speaker 1: a body of living iron which opposed his. Cosatral loomed
Speaker 1: above the warrior in the gloom. Once let those great
Speaker 1: fingers lock, and they would not loosen until the human
Speaker 1: body hung limp in their grasp. In that twilight chamber,
Speaker 1: it was as if a man fought with a dream
Speaker 1: monster in a nightmare. Flinging down his useless sword, Conan
Speaker 1: caught up a heavy bench and hurled it with all
Speaker 1: his power. It was such a missile as few men
Speaker 1: could even lift on Cousatral's mighty breast. It smashed into
Speaker 1: shreds and splinters. It did not even shake the giant
Speaker 1: on his braced legs. His face lost something of its
Speaker 1: human aspect. A nimbus of fire played about his awesome head,
Speaker 1: and like a moving tower, he came on with a
Speaker 1: desperate wrench. Conan ripped a whole section of tapestry from
Speaker 1: the wall and whirling it with a muscular effort greater
Speaker 1: than that required for throwing the bench, he flung it
Speaker 1: over the giant's head. For an instant. Kosatral floundered, smothered
Speaker 1: and blinded by the clinging stuff that resisted his strength
Speaker 1: as wood or steel could not have done. And in
Speaker 1: that instant Conan caught up his scimitar and shot out
Speaker 1: into the corridor. Without checking his speed, he hurled himself
Speaker 1: through the door of the adjoining chamber, slammed the door,
Speaker 1: and shut the bolt. Then as he wheeled he stopped short,
Speaker 1: all the blood in him seeming to surge to his head.
Speaker 1: Crouching on a heap of silk cushions, golden hair streaming
Speaker 1: over her naked shoulders, eyes blank with terror, was the
Speaker 1: woman for whom he had dared so much. He almost
Speaker 1: forgot the horror at his heels, until a splintering crash
Speaker 1: behind him brought him to his senses. He caught up
Speaker 1: the girl and sprang for the opposite door. She was
Speaker 1: too helpless with fright, either to resist or to aid him.
Speaker 1: A faint whipper was the only sound of which she
Speaker 1: seemed capable. Kanan wasted no time trying the door. A
Speaker 1: shattering stroke of his scimitar hewed the lock asunder, and
Speaker 1: as he sprang through to the stair that loomed beyond it,
Speaker 1: he saw the head and shoulders of Coosatral craft through
Speaker 1: the other door. The colossus was splintering the mass of
Speaker 1: panels as if they were of cardboard. Conan raced up
Speaker 1: the stair, carrying the big girl over one shoulder, as
Speaker 1: easily as if she had been a child. Where he
Speaker 1: was going he had no idea, but the stair ended
Speaker 1: at the door of a round domed chamber. Kosatral was
Speaker 1: coming up the stair behind them, silently as a wind
Speaker 1: of death, and as swiftly. The chamber's walls were of
Speaker 1: solid steel, and so was the door. Conan shut it
Speaker 1: and dropped in place the great bars with which it
Speaker 1: was furnished. The thought struck him that this was Kosatral's chamber,
Speaker 1: where he locked himself in to sleep securely from the
Speaker 1: monsters he had loosed from the pits to do his bidding.
Speaker 1: Hardly were the bolts in place. When the great door
Speaker 1: shook and trembled to the giant's assault, Conan shrugged his shoulders.
Speaker 1: This was the end of the trail. There was no
Speaker 1: weather door in the chamber, nor any window ere in
Speaker 1: the strange misty light evidently came from interstices in the dome.
Speaker 1: He tested the nickel edge of his scimitar, quite cool.
Speaker 1: Now that he was at bay, he had done his
Speaker 1: volcanic best to escape. When the giant came crashing through
Speaker 1: that door, he would explode in another savage onslaught with
Speaker 1: his useless sword, not because he expected it to do
Speaker 1: any good, but because it was his nature to die
Speaker 1: fighting For the moment, there was no course of action
Speaker 1: to take, and his calmness was not forced or feigned.
Speaker 1: The gaze he turned on his fair companion was as
Speaker 1: admiring and intense as if he had one hundred years
Speaker 1: to live. He had dumped her unceremoniously on the floor
Speaker 1: when he turned to close the door, and she had
Speaker 1: risen to her knees, mechanically arranging her streaming locks and
Speaker 1: her scanty garment. Conan's fierce eyes glowed with approval as
Speaker 1: they devoured her thick golden hair, her clear, wide eyes,
Speaker 1: her milky skin, sleek with exuberant health, the firm swell
Speaker 1: of her breasts, the contours of her splendid hips. A
Speaker 1: low cry escaped her as the door shook, and the
Speaker 1: bolt gave way with a groan. Conan did not look around.
Speaker 1: He knew the door would hold a little while longer.
Speaker 1: They told me you had escaped, he said. A u
Speaker 1: wet sea fisher told me you were hiding here. What
Speaker 1: is your name? Octavia? She gasped mechanically. Then words came
Speaker 1: in a rush. She caught at him with desperate fingers. Oh, Mitro,
Speaker 1: what night mare is this? The people, the dark skinned people.
Speaker 1: One of them caught me in the forest and brought
Speaker 1: me here. They carried me to to that thing he
Speaker 1: told me. He said, am I mad? Is this a dream?
Speaker 1: He glanced at the door, which bowlged inward, as if
Speaker 1: from the impact of a battering ram. No, he said,
Speaker 1: it is no dream. That hinge is giving way. Strange
Speaker 1: that a devil has to break down a door like
Speaker 1: a common man. But after all, his strength itself is
Speaker 1: a diobolism. Can you not kill him? She panted, You
Speaker 1: are strong. Knan was too honest to lie. If a
Speaker 1: mortal man could kill him, he'd be dead now, he answered,
Speaker 1: I nicked my blade on his belly. Her eyes dulled.
Speaker 1: Then you must die and I must, oh Mitra, She
Speaker 1: screamed in sudden frenzy, and Conan caught her hands, fearing
Speaker 1: that she would harm herself. He told me what he
Speaker 1: was going to do to me, She panted, kill me,
Speaker 1: kill me with your sword. Before he burst the door,
Speaker 1: Conan looked at her and shook his head. I'll do
Speaker 1: what I can, he said. That won't be much, but
Speaker 1: it'll give you a chance to get past him down
Speaker 1: the stair. Then run for the cliffs. I have a
Speaker 1: boat tied to the foot of the steps. If you
Speaker 1: can get out of the palace, you may escape him.
Speaker 1: Yet the people of this city are all asleep. She
Speaker 1: dropped her head in her hands. Conan took up his
Speaker 1: scimitar and moved over to stand before the echoing door.
Speaker 1: One watching him would have realized that he was waiting
Speaker 1: for a death he regarded as inevitable. His eyes smoldered
Speaker 1: more vividly, his muscular hand nodded harder on his hilt.
Speaker 1: That was all the hinges had given under the giant's
Speaker 1: terrible assault, and the door rocked crazily, held only by
Speaker 1: the bolts, and these solid steel bars were buckling, bending,
Speaker 1: bulging out of their sockets. Conan watched in it almost
Speaker 1: impersonal fascination, envying the monster his inhuman strength. Then, without warning,
Speaker 1: the bombardment ceased. In the stillness, Conan heard other noises
Speaker 1: on the landing outside, the beat of wings, and a
Speaker 1: muttering voice that was like the whining of wind through
Speaker 1: midnight branches. Then presently there was silence, but there was
Speaker 1: a new feel in the air. Only the wetted instincts
Speaker 1: of barbarism could have sensed it. But Koonan knew, without
Speaker 1: seeing or hearing him leave, that the Master of Dagon
Speaker 1: no longer stood outside the door. He glared through a
Speaker 1: crack that had been started in the steel of the portal.
Speaker 1: The landing was empty. He drew the warped bolts and
Speaker 1: cautiously pulled aside the sagging door. Cosatral was not on
Speaker 1: the stair, but for below he heard the clang of
Speaker 1: a metal door. He did not know whether the giant
Speaker 1: was plotting new devilries or had been summoned away by
Speaker 1: that muttering voice, but he wasted no time in conjectures.
Speaker 1: He called to Octavia, and the new note in his
Speaker 1: voice brought her up to her feet and to his side,
Speaker 1: almost without her conscious volition. What is it? She gasped,
Speaker 1: don't stop to talk. He caught her wrist. Come on,
Speaker 1: the chance for action had transformed him. His eyes blazed,
Speaker 1: his voice crackled. The knife he muttered, while almost dragging
Speaker 1: the girl down the stair in his fierce haste. The
Speaker 1: magic yuet she bled. He left it in the dome I.
Speaker 1: His voice died suddenly as a clear mental picture sprang
Speaker 1: up before him. The dome adjoined the great room where
Speaker 1: stood the copper throne. Sweat started out on his body.
Speaker 1: The only way to that dome was through that room,
Speaker 1: with its copper throne and the foul thing that slumbered
Speaker 1: in it, But he did not hesitate. Swiftly they descended
Speaker 1: the stair, crossed the chamber, descended the next stair, and
Speaker 1: came into the great dim hall, with its mysterious hangings.
Speaker 1: They had seen no sign of the colossus. Halting before
Speaker 1: the great bronze valved door, Conan caught Octavia by her
Speaker 1: shoulders and shook her in his intensity. Listen, he snapped,
Speaker 1: I'm going into that room and fasten the door. Stand
Speaker 1: here and listen. If cossatral hums called to me. If
Speaker 1: you hear me cry for you to go, run as
Speaker 1: though the devil were on your heels, which he probably
Speaker 1: will be, make for that door at the other end
Speaker 1: of the hall, because I'll be past helping you. I'm
Speaker 1: going far the ux. She knife. Before she could voice
Speaker 1: the protest. Her lips were framing. He had slid through
Speaker 1: the bowels and shut them behind him. He lowered the
Speaker 1: bolt cautiously, not noticing that it could be worked from
Speaker 1: the outside. In the dim twilight. His gaze sought that
Speaker 1: grim copper throne. Yes, the scaly brute was still there,
Speaker 1: filling the throne with its loathsome coils. He saw a
Speaker 1: door behind the throne and knew that it led into
Speaker 1: the dome. But to reach it he must mount the dais,
Speaker 1: a few feet from the throne itself. A wind blowing
Speaker 1: across the green floor would have made more noise than
Speaker 1: Conan's slinking feet. Eyes glued on the sleeping reptile, he
Speaker 1: reached the dais and mounted the glass steps. The snake
Speaker 1: had not moved. He was reaching for the door. The
Speaker 1: bolt on the bronze portled clang, and Conan stifled an
Speaker 1: awful oath as he saw Octavia come into the room.
Speaker 1: She stared about, uncertain in the deeper gloom, and he
Speaker 1: stood frozen, not daring to shout a warning. Then she
Speaker 1: saw his shadowy figure and ran toward the dais, crying,
Speaker 1: I want to go with you. I'm afraid to stay alone. Oh.
Speaker 1: She threw up her hands with a terrible scream, as
Speaker 1: for the first time she saw the occupant of the throne.
Speaker 1: The wedge shaped head had lifted from its coils and
Speaker 1: thrust out toward her on a yard of shining neck.
Speaker 1: Conan cleared the space between him and the throne with
Speaker 1: a desperate bound, his scimitar, swinging with all his power
Speaker 1: and with such blinding speed did the serpent move that
Speaker 1: it whipped about and met him in full mid air,
Speaker 1: lapping his limbs and body with half a dozen coils.
Speaker 1: His half checked stroke fell futilely as he crashed down
Speaker 1: on the dais, gashing the scaly trunk but not severing it.
Speaker 1: Then he was writhing on the glass steps with fold
Speaker 1: after slimy fold nodding about him, twisting, crushing, killing him.
Speaker 1: His right arm was still free, but he could get
Speaker 1: no purchase to strike a killing blow, and he knew
Speaker 1: one blow must suffice. With a groaning convulsion of muscular
Speaker 1: expansion that bulged his veins, almost bursting on his temples,
Speaker 1: and tied his muscles in quivering tortured knots. He heaved
Speaker 1: up on his feet, lifting almost the full weight of
Speaker 1: that forty foot devil. An instant, he reeled on wide
Speaker 1: braced legs, feeling his ribs caving in on his vitals
Speaker 1: and his sight growing dark, while his scimitar gleamed above
Speaker 1: his head. Then it fell, sheering through the scales and
Speaker 1: flesh and vertebrae, and where there had been one huge
Speaker 1: writhing cable, now there were horribly two, lashing and flopping
Speaker 1: in their death rows. Konan staggered away from their blind strokes.
Speaker 1: He was sick and dizzy, and blood ooze from his nose.
Speaker 1: Groping in a dark mist, he clutched Octavia and shook
Speaker 1: her until she gasped for breath. Next time, I tell
Speaker 1: you to stay somewhere, he gasped, you stay. He was
Speaker 1: too dizzy even to know whether she replied. Taking her
Speaker 1: wrist like a truant schoolgirl, he led her around the
Speaker 1: hideous stumps that still looped and knotted on the floor.
Speaker 1: Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard men yelling,
Speaker 1: but his ears were still roaring, so that he could
Speaker 1: not be sure the door gave to his efforts. If
Speaker 1: Cossatral had placed the snake there to guard the thing
Speaker 1: he feared, evidently he considered it ample precaution. Koanan half
Speaker 1: expected some other monstrosity to leap at him with the
Speaker 1: opening of the door, but in the dimmer light, he
Speaker 1: saw only the vague sweep of the arch above a
Speaker 1: dully gleaming block of gold, and a half moon glimmer
Speaker 1: on the stone. With a gasp of gratification, he scooped
Speaker 1: it up and did not linger for further exploration. He
Speaker 1: turned and fled across the room and down the great hall,
Speaker 1: toward the distant door that he felt led to the
Speaker 1: outer air. He was correct. A few minutes later he
Speaker 1: emerged into the silent streets, half carrying, half guiding his companion.
Speaker 1: There was no one to be seen, but beyond the
Speaker 1: western wall there sounded cries and moaning wails that made
Speaker 1: Octavia tremble. He led her to the southwestern wall and
Speaker 1: without difficulty found a stone stair that mounted the rampart.
Speaker 1: He had appropriated a thick tapestry rope in the great hall,
Speaker 1: and now having reached the parapet, he looped the soft
Speaker 1: strong cord about the girl's hips and lowered her to
Speaker 1: the earth. Then, making one end fast to a merlon,
Speaker 1: he slid down after her. There was but one way
Speaker 1: of escape from the island, the stair on the western cliffs.
Speaker 1: In that direction, he hurried, swinging wide around the spot
Speaker 1: from which had come the cries and sound of terrible blows.
Speaker 1: Octan sensed that grim peril lurked in those leafy fastnesses.
Speaker 1: Her breath came pantingly, and she pressed close to her protector.
Speaker 1: But the forest was silent now, and they saw no
Speaker 1: shape of menace until they emerged from the trees and
Speaker 1: glimpsed a figure standing on the edge of the cliffs.
Speaker 1: Jehungir Aga had escaped the doom that had overtaken his
Speaker 1: warriors when an orangeine sallied suddenly from the gate and
Speaker 1: battered and crushed them into bits of shredded flesh and
Speaker 1: splintered bone. When he saw the swords of his archer's
Speaker 1: break on that man, like Jargarnaut, he had known it
Speaker 1: was no human foe they faced, and he had fled,
Speaker 1: hiding in the deep woods until the sounds of slaughter ceased.
Speaker 1: Then he crept back to the stair. But his boatmen
Speaker 1: were not waiting for him. They had heard the screams,
Speaker 1: and presently waiting nervously, had seen on the cliffs above
Speaker 1: them a blood smeared monster waving gigantic arms in awful triumph.
Speaker 1: They had waited for no more. When Jehangar came upon
Speaker 1: the cliffs, they were just vanishing among the reeds. Beyond earshot.
Speaker 1: Kosatral was gone, had either returned to the city or
Speaker 1: was prowling the forest in search of the man who
Speaker 1: had escaped him outside the walls. Jahangir was just preparing
Speaker 1: to descend the stairs and depart in Koonan's boat when
Speaker 1: he saw the hetman and the girl emerge from the trees.
Speaker 1: The experience, which had congealed his blood and almost blasted
Speaker 1: his reason, had not altered Jehungir's intentions toward the Kossakh chief.
Speaker 1: The sight of the man he had come to kill
Speaker 1: filled him with gratification. He was astonished to see the
Speaker 1: girl he had given to Jalal Khan, but he wasted
Speaker 1: no time on her. Lifting his bow, he drew the
Speaker 1: shaft to his head and loosed. Conan crouched, and the
Speaker 1: arrows splintered on a tree, and Conan laughed. Dog He taunted,
Speaker 1: you can't hit me. I was not born to die
Speaker 1: on Hyrcanian steel. Try again, pig of Turen. Jehungir did
Speaker 1: not try again. That was his last arrow. He drew
Speaker 1: his scimitar and advanced, confident in his spired helmet and
Speaker 1: close meshed mail. Conan met him half way. In a
Speaker 1: blinding whirl of swords. The curved blades ground together, sprang apart,
Speaker 1: circled in glittering arcs that blurred the sight which tried
Speaker 1: to follow them. Octavia, watching, did not see the stroke,
Speaker 1: but she heard its chopping impact and saw Jehungir fall,
Speaker 1: blood spurting from his side where the Samerian steel had
Speaker 1: sundered his mail and bitten to his spine. But Octavia's
Speaker 1: scream was not caused by the death of her former master.
Speaker 1: With a crash of bending boughs, cosatra Kel was upon them.
Speaker 1: The girl could not flee. A moaning cry escaped her
Speaker 1: as her knees gave way and pitched her, groveling to
Speaker 1: the sward. Conan, stooping above the body of the aga
Speaker 1: made no move to escape. Shifting his reddened scimitar to
Speaker 1: his left hand, he drew the great half blade of
Speaker 1: the Yuetchi. Kosatra Kel was towering above him. His arms
Speaker 1: lifted like mauls, But as the blade caught the sheen
Speaker 1: of the sun, the giant gave back suddenly, but Conan's
Speaker 1: blood was up. He rushed in, slashing with the crescent blade,
Speaker 1: and it did not splinter under its edge. The dusky
Speaker 1: metal of Kosatral's body gave way like common flesh beneath
Speaker 1: a cleaver. From the deep gash flowed a strange ichor,
Speaker 1: and Kosatral cried out like the dirging of a great bell.
Speaker 1: His terrible arms flailed down, but Conan, quicker than the
Speaker 1: archers who had died beneath those awful flails, avoided their
Speaker 1: strokes and struck again, and yet again. Kosatral reeled and tottered.
Speaker 1: His cries were awful to hear, as if metal were
Speaker 1: given a tongue of pain, as if iron shrieked and
Speaker 1: bellowed under torment. Then, wheeling away, he staggered into the forest.
Speaker 1: He reeled in his gait, crashed through bushes and corombed
Speaker 1: off trees. Yet, though Conan followed him with the speed
Speaker 1: of hot passion, the walls and towers of Dagon loomed
Speaker 1: through the trees before the man came within dagger reach
Speaker 1: of the giant. Then Kosatral turned again, flailling the air
Speaker 1: with desperate blows, but Knan fired to berserker. Fury was
Speaker 1: not to be denied as a panther strikes down a
Speaker 1: bull moose at bay, so he plunged under the bludgeoning
Speaker 1: arms and drove the crescent blade to the hilt under
Speaker 1: the spot where a human's heart would be. Kosatral reeled
Speaker 1: and fell in the shape of a man. He reeled,
Speaker 1: but it was not the shape of a man that
Speaker 1: struck the loam. Where there had been the likeness of
Speaker 1: a human face, there was no face at all, and
Speaker 1: the metal limbs melted and changed. Knan, who had not
Speaker 1: shrunk from Kosatral living, recoiled blinching from Kosatral dead, for
Speaker 1: he had witnessed an awful transmutation in his dying throes.
Speaker 1: Kosatral kell had become again the thing that had crawled
Speaker 1: up from the abyss millenniums, gone gagging with intall horrible repugnance.
Speaker 1: Conan turned to flee the sight, and he was suddenly
Speaker 1: aware that the pinnacles of Dagon no longer glimmered through
Speaker 1: the trees. They had faded like smoke, the battlements, the
Speaker 1: crenelated towers, the great bronze gates, the velvets, the gold
Speaker 1: the ivory, and the dark haired women and the men
Speaker 1: with their shaven skulls. With the passing of the inhuman
Speaker 1: intellect which had given them rebirth, they had faded back
Speaker 1: into the dust which they had been for ages. Uncounted.
Speaker 1: Only the stumps of broken columns rose above, crumbling walls
Speaker 1: and broken paves and shattered dome. Konan again looked upon
Speaker 1: the ruins of Zappor as he remembered them, the wild
Speaker 1: hadmen stood like a statue for a space, dimly grasping
Speaker 1: something of the cosmic tragedy of the fitful ephemera called mankind,
Speaker 1: and the hooded shapes of darkness which prey upon it. Then,
Speaker 1: as he heard his name called an accents of fear,
Speaker 1: he started, as one awakening from a dream, glanced again
Speaker 1: at the thing on the ground, shuddered, and turned away
Speaker 1: toward the cliffs and the girl that waited there. She
Speaker 1: was peering fearfully under the trees, and she greeted him
Speaker 1: with a half stifled cry of relief. He had shaken
Speaker 1: off the dim, monstrous visions which had momentarily haunted him,
Speaker 1: and was his exuberant self again. Where is he, she shuddered,
Speaker 1: Gone back to hell? Whence he crawled? He replied cheerfully.
Speaker 1: Why didn't you climb the stair and make your escape
Speaker 1: in my boat? I wouldn't desert, she began, then changed
Speaker 1: her mind, and I men died rather sulkily. I have
Speaker 1: nowhere to go. The Hyrcanians would enslave me again, and
Speaker 1: the pirates would What of the Kosaks, he suggested? Are
Speaker 1: they better than the pirates? She asked, scornfully. Conan's admiration
Speaker 1: increased to see how well she had recovered her poise
Speaker 1: after having endured such frantic terror. Her arrogance amused him.
Speaker 1: You seem to think so in the camp by gory,
Speaker 1: he answered, you were free enough with your smiles. Then
Speaker 1: her red lip curled in disdained Do you think I
Speaker 1: was enamored of you? Do you dream that I would
Speaker 1: have shamed myself before an ale gussling meat, garging barbarian,
Speaker 1: unless I had to my master, whose body lies there
Speaker 1: forced me to do as I did. Oh, Conan seemed
Speaker 1: rather crestfallen. Then he laughed with undiminished zeal. No matter,
Speaker 1: you belong to me. Now give me a kiss, you
Speaker 1: dare ask? She began angrily when she felt hiss, snatched
Speaker 1: off her feet and crushed to the headman's muscular breast.
Speaker 1: She fought him fiercely with all the supple strength of
Speaker 1: her magnificent youth, but he only laughed, exuberantly, drunk with
Speaker 1: his possession of this splendid creature. Writhing in his arms,
Speaker 1: he crushed her struggles, easily, drinking the nectar of her
Speaker 1: lips with all the unrestrained passion that was his, until
Speaker 1: the arms that strained against him melted and twined convulsively
Speaker 1: about his massive neck. Then he laughed down into the
Speaker 1: clear eyes and said, why should not a chief of
Speaker 1: the free people be preferable to a city bred dog
Speaker 1: of Turan. She shook back her tawny locks, still tingling
Speaker 1: in every nerve from the fire of his kisses. She
Speaker 1: did not loosen her arms from his neck. Do you
Speaker 1: deem yourself and AGA's equal, she challenged. He laughed and
Speaker 1: strode with her in his arms towards the stair. You
Speaker 1: shall judge, he boasted. I'll burn cohoarizum for a torch
Speaker 1: to light your way to my tent. End of Chapter six.
Speaker 1: End of The Devil in Iron by Robert E. Howard.
Speaker 1: This book read by Phil Schinevert in March of two
Speaker 1: thousand and thirteen. Baton Rouge Louisiana