Conan and the Spider God

Chapter 1 Lust And Death A tall, immensely powerful manalmost a giantstood motionless in the shadows of the courtyard. Although he could see the candle that the Turanian woman had placed in the window as a sign that the coast was clear, and to a hillman the climb was child's play, he waited. He had no desire to be caught halfway up the wall, clinging like a beetle to the ivy that mantled the ancient edifice. While the civic guard would hesitate to arrest one of King Yildiz's officers, word of his escapade would surely reach the ears of Narkia's protector. And this protector was Senior Captain Orkhan, the large man's commanding officer. With alert blue eyes, Conan of Cimmeria, a captain in the Royal Guard, scanned the sky above, where the full moon dusted the domes and towers of Aghrapur with powdered silver. A cloud was bearing down upon the luminary; but this wind-borne galleon of the sky was inadequate for the Cimmerian's purpose. It would dim the moonlight for only half the time required to clamber up the ivy. A much larger cloud, he observed with satisfaction, sailed in the wake of the first. When the moon had veiled her face behind the more voluminous cloud, Conan hitched his baldric around so that the sword hung down between his shoulders. He slipped off his sandals and tucked them into his be< then, grasping the heavy, knotted vines with fingers and toes, he mounted with catlike agility. Across the shadowed spires and roofs lay a ghostly silence, broken but rarely by the sound of hurrying feet; while overhead the cloud, outlined in vermeil, billowed slowly past. The climber felt a thin wind stir his square-cut black mane, and a tiny shiver shook him. He remembered the words of the astrologer whom he had consulted three days before. "Beware of launching an enterprise at the next full of the moon," the graybeard had said. "The stellar aspects imply that you would thus set in motion wheels within wheels of cause and effect-a vast concatenation of dire changes." "Will the result be good or bad?" demanded Conan. The astrologer shrugged the bony shoulders under his patched robe. "That cannot be foreseen; save that it would be something drastic. There would ensue great overturns." "Can't you even tell whether I shall end up on the top of the heap or at the bottom?" "Nay, Captain. Since I see in the stars no great benison for you, meseems the bottom were more likely." Grumbling at this uninspiring prediction, Conan paid up and departed. He did not disbelieve in any form of magic, sorcery, or spiritism; but he had an equal faith in the fallibility of individual occultists. Their ranks, he thought, were at least as full of fakers and blunderers as any other occupation. So, when Narkia had sent him a note inviting him to call while her protector was away, he had not let the astrologer's warning stop him. The candle vanished, and the window creaked open. The giant eeled through and slid to his feet. He stared hungrily at the Turanian woman who stood before him. Her black hair cascaded down her supple shoulders, while the glow of the candle, now resting on the taboret beside her, revealed her splendid body through her diaphanous gown of amethyst silk. "Well, here I am," rumbled Conan. Narkia's feline eyes sparkled with amusement as they rested on the man who towered over her in a cheap woolen tunic and patched, baggy pantaloons. "I have awaited your coming, Conan," she replied, moving forward with welcoming arms outstretched. "Though, in sooth, I did not expect to find you looking like a stable hand. Where are your splendid cream-and-scarlet uniform and silver-spurde Camp, L. Sprague is the author of 'Conan and the Spider God' with ISBN 9780765340177 and ISBN 0765340178.