All her imperiousness had gone out of her. She was no longer a mystical figure of antiquity, but a terrified and humiliated dancing-girl, such as can be bought at almost any Shemitish market-place. She lifted up her voice and wept unashamedly. Her captor glared down at her with angry triumph.
‘Goddess! Ha! So you were one of the veiled women Zargheba brought to Keshia with him. Did you think you could fool me, you little idiot? A year ago I saw you in Akbitana with that swine, Zargheba, and I don’t forget faces – or women’s figures. I think I’ll-‘
Squirming about in his grasp she threw her slender arms about his massive neck in an abandon of terror; tears coursed down her cheeks, and her sobs quivered with a note of hysteria.
‘Oh, please don’t hurt me! Don’t! I had to do it! Zargheba brought me here to act as the oracle!’
‘Why, you sacrilegious little hussy!’ rumbled Conan. ‘Do you not fear the gods? Crom! is there no honesty anywhere?’
‘Oh, please!’ she begged, quivering with abject fright. ‘I couldn’t disobey Zargheba. Oh, what shall I do? I shall be cursed by these heathen gods!’
‘What do you think the priests will do to you if they find out you’re an impostor?’ he demanded.
At the thought her legs refused to support her, and she collapsed in a shuddering heap, clasping Conan’s knees and mingling incoherent pleas for mercy and protection with piteous protestations of her innocence of any malign intention. It was a vivid change from her pose as the ancient princess, but not surprising. The fear that had nerved her then was now her undoing.
‘Where is Zargheba?’ he demanded. ‘Stop yammering, damn it, and answer me.’
‘Outside the palace,’ she whimpered, ‘watching for the priests.’
‘How many men with him?’
‘None. We came alone.’
‘Ha!’ It was much like the satisfied grunt of a hunting lion. ‘You must have left Keshia a few hours after I did. Did you climb the cliffs?’
She shook her head, too choked with tears to speak coherently. With an impatient imprecation he seized her slim shoulders and shook her until she gasped for breath.
‘Will you quit that blubbering and answer me? How did you get into the valley?’
‘Zargheba knew the secret way,’ she gasped. ‘The priest Gwarunga told him, and Thutmekri. On the south side of the valley there is a broad pool lying at the foot of the cliffs. There is a cave-mouth under the surface of the water that is not visible to the casual glance. We ducked under the water and entered it. The cave slopes up out of the water swiftly and leads through the cliffs. The opening on the side of the valley is masked by heavy thickets.’
‘I climbed the cliffs on the east side,’ he muttered. ‘Well, what then?’
‘We came to the palace and Zargheba hid me among the trees while he went to look for the chamber of the oracle. I do not think he fully trusted Gwarunga. While he was gone I thought I heard a gong sound, but I was not sure. Presently Zargheba came and took me into the palace and brought me to this chamber, where the goddess Yelaya lay upon the dais. He stripped the body and clothed me in the garments and ornaments. Then he went forth to hide the body and watch for the priests. I have been afraid. When you entered I wanted to leap up and beg you to take me away from this place, but I feared Zargheba. When you discovered I was alive, I thought I could frighten you away.’
‘What were you to say as the oracle?’ he asked.
‘I was to bid the priests to take the Teeth of Gwahlur and give some of them to Thutmekri as a pledge, as he desired, and place the rest in the palace at Keshia. I was to tell them that an awful doom threatened Keshan if they did not agree to Thutmekri’s proposals. And, oh, yes, I was to tell them that you were to be skinned alive immediately.’
‘Thutmekri wanted the treasure where he – or the Zembabwans – could lay hand on it easily,’ muttered Conan, disregarding the remark concerning himself. ‘I’ll carve his liver yet – Gorulga is a party to this swindle, of course?’
‘No. He believes in his gods, and is incorruptible. He knows nothing about this. He will obey the oracle. It was all Thutmekri’s plan. Knowing the Keshani would consult the oracle, he had Zargheba bring me with the embassy from Zembabwei, closely veiled and secluded.’
‘Well, I’m damned!’ muttered Conan. ‘A priest who honestly believes in his oracle, and can not be bribed. Crom! I wonder if it was Zargheba who banged that gong. Did he know I was here? Could he have known about that rotten flagging? Where is he now, girl?’
‘Hiding in a thicket of lotus trees, near the ancient avenue that leads from the south wall of the cliffs to the palace,’ she answered. Then she renewed her importunities. ‘Oh, Conan, have pity on me! I am afraid of this evil, ancient place. I know I have heard stealthy footfalls padding about me – oh, Conan, take me away with you! Zargheba will kill me when I have served his purpose here – I know it! The priests, too, will kill me if they discover my deceit.
‘He is a devil – he bought me from a slave-trader who stole me out of a caravan bound through southern Koth, and has made me the tool of his intrigues ever since. Take me away from him! You can not be as cruel as he. Don’t leave me to be slain here! Please! Please!’
She was on her knees, clutching at Conan hysterically, her beautiful tear-stained face upturned to him, her dark silken hair flowing in disorder over her white shoulders. Conan picked her up and set her on his knee.
‘Listen to me. I’ll protect you from Zargheba. The priests shall not know of your perfidy. But you’ve got to ‘do as I tell you.’
She faltered promises of explicit obedience, clasping his corded neck as if seeking security from the contact.
‘Good. When the priests come, you’ll act the part of Yelaya, as Zargheba planned – it’ll be dark, and in the torchlight they’ll never know the difference. But you’ll say this to them: “It is the will of the gods that the Stygian and his Shemitish dogs be driven from Keshan. They are thieves and traitors who plot to rob the gods. Let the Teeth of Gwahlur be placed in the care of the general Conan. Let him lead the armies of Keshan. He is beloved of the gods.”’
She shivered, with an expression of desperation, but acquiesced.
‘But Zargheba?’ she cried. ‘He’ll kill me!’
‘Don’t worry about Zargheba,’ he grunted. ‘I’ll take care of that dog. You do as I say. Here, put up your hair again. It’s fallen all over your shoulders. And the gem’s fallen out of it.’
He replaced the great glowing gem himself, nodding approval.
‘It’s worth a room full of slaves, itself alone. Here, put your skirt back on. It’s torn down the side, but the priests will never notice it. Wipe your face. A goddess doesn’t cry like a whipped schoolgirl. By Crom, you do look like Yelaya, face, hair, figure and all! If you act the goddess with the priests as well as you did with me, you’ll fool them easily.’
‘I’ll try,’ she shivered.
‘Good; I’m going to find Zargheba.’
At that she became panicky again.
‘No! Don’t leave me alone! This place is haunted!’
‘There’s nothing here to harm you,’ he assured her impatiently. ‘Nothing but Zargheba, and I’m going to look after him. I’ll be back shortly. I’ll be watching from close by in case anything goes wrong during the ceremony; but if you play your part properly, nothing will go wrong.’
And turning, he hastened out of the oracle chamber; behind him Muriela squeaked wretchedly at his going.
Twilight had fallen. The great rooms and halls were shadowy and indistinct; copper friezes glinted dully through the dusk. Conan strode like a silent phantom through the great halls, with a sensation of being stared at from the shadowed recesses by invisible ghosts of the past. No wonder the girl was nervous amid such surroundings.
He glided down the marble steps like a slinking panther, sword in hand. Silence reigned over the valley, and above the rim of the cliffs stars were blinking out. If the priests of Keshia had entered the valley there was not a sound, not a movement in the greenery to betray them. He made out the ancient broken-paved avenue, wandering away to the south, lost amid clustering masses of fronds and thick-leaved bushes. He followed it warily, hugging the edge of the paving where the shrubs massed their shadows thickly, until he saw ahead of him, dimly in the dusk, the clump of lotus-trees, the strange growth peculiar to the black lands of Kush. There, according to the girl, Zargheba should be lurking. Conan became stealth personified. A velvet-footed shadow, he melted into the thickets.