Conan and the Emerald Lotus Part 18

After the gear in the saddlebags of their camels was sorted through and divided, each member of the party acquired a measure of protection against the desert heat. Zelandra and Neesa immediately made use of a pair of cotton cowls, pulling them over their traveling clothes and tugging up the loose hoods against the sun. Predictably, Conan and Heng-s.h.i.+h had more difficulty. The Khitan found nothing that he could wear as it was meant to be worn, finally wrapping a gray silk tunic around his shaven skull in a crude turban. For an outer garment he produced from his own provisions a golden kimono embroidered with writhing dragons of scarlet silk. Though adequately protected from the harsh sun, he cut an odd figure. The Cimmerian was luckier, finding a cotton burnoose large enough to be serviceable if not entirely comfortable. In motley array, the party moved through an empty landscape, the dry and barren miles pa.s.sing slowly beneath their camels' feet.

Zelandra .seemed unwell. Again and again she looked back over her shoulder toward the road they had left behind, her face pale within the folds of her hood. When she spoke to Conan, her voice had developed an unsettling tremor.

"Are you certain that we should have left the Caravan Road? Shall we not become lost in this G.o.dforsaken waste?"

Conan shrugged his broad shoulders beneath the undersized Stygian burnoose. "The Dragon's Spine is not so easily found. It is near Pteion, remember, and no human road leads to that cursed ruin."

Lady Zelandra's left hand fluttered to her brow and she swayed slightly in the saddle. "And how am I to trust you, barbarian? How is it that I trust you to lead me through this hot and empty h.e.l.l?"

The Cimmerian turned to fasten his probing gaze on her face. Zelandra's eyes rolled as though she were in the grip of a tropical fever and her jaw worked spasmodically. He saw that she gripped the box at her girdle with such fierce intensity that the tendons stood out rigidly across the back of her hand. Then Heng s.h.i.+h was riding at their side. The Khitan leaned from his mount and caught the reins of Zelandra's camel.

The party drew up short in the midst of the rocky plain. The sun was so bright that its rays seemed to thicken the air, suffocating the travelers with its heat.

"Heng s.h.i.+h," sobbed Zelandra, teetering in her seat. "Heng s.h.i.+h, where are you?" The Khitan moved his mount in close beside the sorceress and laid a thick arm across her shaking shoulders. The woman half fell against his body, leaning against him while a series of visible shudders coursed through her slender frame. Conan drew back, casting a glance at Neesa.

"Crom," he murmured, "is she stricken?"

Neesa shook her dark head. "Her body cries for the lotus."

The barbarian cursed under his breath, feeling a creeping chill despite the cruel sun. He turned away from the little group, scanning the land around them. The ruddy, irregular plain was broken only by a rough ridge to their rear and by a widely separated group of eroded volcanic b.u.t.tes before them. The wind rose from a dull whisper to a hot howl, drowning Zelandra's sobs. Conan looked back to the ridge behind them, where it rose sharply against the featureless blue of the desert sky.

His brow furrowed.

Heng s.h.i.+h's hands pulled the silver box from its leather bindings and lifted the lid with gentle care. Within the box's mirrored silver rim lay velvety green shadow. Zelandra tossed her head back against the Khitan's breast, tears bright on her pallid cheeks.

"No, Heng s.h.i.+h," she said weakly. "No, my love."

The Khitan put a blunt forefinger in his mouth, then thrust it into the open box. It came back out encrusted with emerald dust. He put it to Zelandra's lips.

"Riders!" The barbarian's voice rang with deadly urgency. "Bandits or worse. Follow me!"

Heng s.h.i.+h carefully re-wrapped the silver box and fastened it securely to Zelandra's belt before looking up. Neesa wheeled about, standing in her stirrups to look behind them. The Lady Zelandra was shaking her head as though shrugging off a spell of dizziness. She wiped away the moisture on her cheeks, blinking quickly and suddenly seeming to focus once more on those around her. When she looked up, her gray eyes were clear.

"Derketo's loins," she cursed hoa.r.s.ely, "listen to the barbarian."

"Crom and Mitra! Follow me or we're all food for the jackals!" Without looking to see if they heeded his words, Conan urged his camel to a loping gallop. He started off at an angle to their original path, heading toward the stony prominence of the nearest b.u.t.te. The rest of the party followed.

Neesa stared back at the ridge a moment longer. A thin thread of rising dust was just visible, tracing a line down the ridge's rugged slope.

How the barbarian had noticed this faint sign was beyond her.

Marveling, she lashed her camel and started off after her companions.

The party, moving at top speed, drew nearer to the closest of the b.u.t.tes, and Zelandra found herself questioning the wisdom of the Cimmerian's path. The b.u.t.te they approached was the core of an eons-dead volcano, a huge, crumbling shaft of stone that rose almost vertically from the desert floor. Its base was cluttered with shattered boulders torn from the main body of the escarpment by the slow claws of erosion. There seemed to be little advantage in taking refuge among the jagged heaps of broken rock. Would they leave their camels and try to lose their pursuers by hiding in the jumble of boulders? Better to try to fight them off. Zelandra's hand sought and gripped the box that bounced at her hip. She breathed deeply of the wind that lashed her flowing cowl and cleared her mind in preparation for strong and deadly sorcery.

But Conan did not lead the party directly into the b.u.t.te's base. He kept his camel galloping around the tower of stone, moving west and north until a new feature of the rock unveiled itself. This side of the b.u.t.te was cleft by a narrow gorge. It was as though an angry G.o.d had split the stone with a t.i.tanic ax, opening a steep pa.s.sage up into the body of the b.u.t.te. Conan rode into the gorge's mouth, dismounting almost immediately as the ground became covered with loose stone. The rest of the party came up behind him and followed suit.

"We can take the high ground here. Lead your mounts; the footing is uncertain." The barbarian's words echoed in the stony pa.s.sage.

. They hastily moved up the gorge, over gravel and broken, treacherous plates of reddish rock, between looming walls of striated stone. The sun shone directly down into the steep cleft in the b.u.t.te, filling it with oppressive heat and blinding light. Halfway up the little canyon their pa.s.sage was almost blocked by a huge boulder.

"Get the camels up behind the rock," directed Conan. "We can hold this position until they're willing to bargain."

As Heng s.h.i.+h, Zelandra, and Neesa led their mounts to shelter behind the boulder, the hammer of hooves echoed up from the gorge's mouth. The brigands had overtaken them and now moved to seal off the canyon.

Neb-Khot was displeased with the current course of events. His band's fresh horses had caught up with their prey's weary camels easily enough, but the bandit chieftain had not antic.i.p.ated that they would find such a dangerous place to go to ground. The brigands could only get at the travelers by charging up the open slope. Even though there were only, two warriors in the defending party, he might well lose several men before taking them down. A bit of bargaining might lower their guard, perhaps even intimidate them into throwing down their arms and surrendering. He rubbed his stubbled chin uncertainly. The little party had proved surprisingly skillful in protecting themselves thus far. The Stygian sighed, wondering what other surprises they might have for him. This was not as easy as he had antic.i.p.ated, but it did not mean that his luck had deserted him.

The brigands dismounted, forming a loose phalanx facing up the pa.s.sage.

Neb-Khot motioned for the two archers to take up flanking positions on each wall of the gorge and called Telmesh to him. The Shemite, black eyes bright with excitement, clutched his naked scimitar and looked to his leader in antic.i.p.ation.

"Telmesh, how would you like to bargain with these fools?"

"I?" The bandit seemed stunned. "By the Steel Wings, I've never done such a thing."

"Bah," said Neb-Khot with friendly derision. "You underestimate yourself. Have a word with the dogs. Show them that we can be reasonable men while I ready the others to charge." He turned away before the Shemite could respond.

Up the gorge, Conan. appeared atop the boulder sheltering the camels while Heng s.h.i.+h stepped out beside it. The Khitan moved a few steps down the slope, finding a niche in the rock wall that would afford cover from arrows. Conan stood in full view, black mane whipping in the hot wind that blew along the canyon.

Forty paces away, Telmesh leapt up on a block of stone and hailed him.

"Ho, travelers! Throw down your weapons, give us your goods, and we shall spare you!" The Shemite's voice rang strongly in the corridor of stone, and he straightened with pride at the sound of it. Conan's response was a harsh bark of laughter.

"We have no riches, dogs. Our mistress seeks medicinal herbs in the desert. We have nothing for you but steel. Come forward if you wish a taste of it."

At this the archers to either side of the gorge surrept.i.tiously set shafts to string and looked to Neb-Khot for the order to loose them.

The Stygian chieftain moved among the eight men on the gorge's floor, speaking to them in low tones.

Neesa struggled up onto the boulder's top beside the barbarian. As she stood, a gust of wind lifted her cowl, exposing her slim legs to the crowd below. A raucous cry of approval swept the bandits.

Telmesh laughed coa.r.s.ely. "By Ashtoreth, give us a taste of her and you can all go free!"

As Conan turned to admonish Neesa to take cover, the woman's hand darted to her nape in a motion that the barbarian knew all too well.

Her arm snapped forward, sending a throwing dagger streaking down the gorge like a diving hawk. The blade drove into Telmesh's throat just above the collar of his dusty burnoose.

"Taste that!" shouted Neesa as Neb-Khot gave his archers the order to release. Conan swept out an arm, shoving Neesa from the top of the boulder and sending her skidding, cursing, down the far side. An arrow shot through the s.p.a.ce where she'd stood, whistling up the gorge. The Cimmerian's sword licked out, clipping a second arrow aside in mid-flight. The eight men on the canyon's floor howled out a wild, discordant war cry and drove forward with blades bared.

Telmesh stood still on his rock, eyes wide with disbelief.

His hands groped for the dagger's hilt and found it just as his legs gave way beneath him.

Neb-Khot watched the Shemite fall and felt his luck running strong within him. The whim that had led him to avoid bargaining with this party had likely saved his life. Surely the G.o.ds protected him this day.

Behind the boulder, the Lady Zelandra heard the cries of the attacking bandits as an indistinct and distant murmur. She knelt in the gravel, her entire being focused upon the open box of Emerald Lotus perched in her lap. Inside the mirror-lined casket was a small seash.e.l.l. She used it to spoon a bit of the deep-green powder into her mouth, pouring it under her tongue. Revulsion at the sharp, bitter taste was swiftly eclipsed by the shudder of raw power through her body. She snapped the box closed, lashed it to her belt, and stood up.

The first bandit up the slope closed on Heng s.h.i.+h, who lunged from his niche in the rock wall to meet him. The flare-bladed scimitar flashed in the desert sun, driving down to rebound from the bandit's hasty"

block with a resounding metallic clang. T'Cura reeled back from the strength of the blow, his dark face twisting with determination, He moved back in, but this time Heng s.h.i.+h's swing had all the power of the Khitan's body behind it. Again, T'Cura succeeded in blocking the stroke, but the sheer impact lifted him from his feet and hurled him backward down the gorge. The Darfari crashed to the ground, tumbling down the rocky incline in a series of painful somersaults. Heng s.h.i.+h ducked back into his sheltering niche as an arrow splintered against the canyon wall beside him.

Another arrow shot past Conan's head as he dropped to a crouch, waiting for the oncoming bandits to climb the boulder to reach him. A moment later a bearded brigand pulled himself up to where the rock adjoined the wall of the gorge. Conan drove forward and met an arrow fired by a canny archer below. The point impacted the barbarian's left shoulder, failing to pierce his mail but delivering a powerful buffet that staggered him and sent pain flaring hotly down his arm. The climbing bandit came sword-first onto the boulder's top, where Conan, struck off balance by the arrow, lashed out at him with a wordless cry of rage.

The Cimmerian's blade tore across the breast of his foe, splitting his ribs and slamming him back over the boulder's lip. The brigand fell from sight with a hoa.r.s.e cry as Conan's uncontrolled swing drove his sword against the gorge wall, where it broke with a brittle crack.

Cursing sulphurously, he tore his dagger from his belt, crouching low again as yet another arrow whispered past.

In the cover of his niche, Heng s.h.i.+h gripped his hilt with both hands and prepared to go back out onto the slope to deal with the next set of attackers to struggle up the slope. His slanted eyes flew wide as the Lady Zelandra came from behind the sheltering boulder and strode boldly out in front of it. He hurtled from the niche, golden kimono billowing out behind him, to protect his mistress. He cut down a howling brigand with a single brutal stroke, sending the man flying back among his comrades and momentarily arresting their progress. Then the Khitan looked to Zelandra and froze in place.