rh.conanthewarrior-第7部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


the　chambers。　Here　and　there　were　rugs　of　that　silk　known　as　Khitan　which　is　practically　indestructible。　Nowhere　did　they　find　any　windows；　or　doors　opening　into　streets　or　courts。　Each　door　merely　opened　into　another　chamber　or　hall。
　　〃Why　don't　we　e　to　a　street？〃　grumbled　Valeria。　〃This　palace　or　whatever　we're　in　must　be　as　big　as　the　king　of　Turan's　seraglio。〃
　　〃They　must　not　have　perished　of　plague；〃　sad　Conan；　meditating　upon　the　mystery　of　the　empty　city。　〃Otherwise　we'd　find　skeletons。　Maybe　it　became　haunted；　and　everybody　got　up　and　left。　Maybe…〃
　　〃Maybe；　hell！〃　broke　in　Valeria　rudely。　〃We'll　never　know。　Look　at　these　friezes。　They　portray　men。　What　race　do　they　belong　to？〃
　　Conan　scanned　them　and　shook　his　head。
　　〃I　never　saw　people　exactly　like　them。　But　there's　the　smack　of　the　East　about　them…Vendhya；　maybe；　or　Kosala。〃
　　〃Were　you　a　king　in　Kosala？〃　she　asked；　masking　her　keen　curiosity　with　derision。
　　〃No。　But　I　was　a　war　chief　of　the　Afghulis　who　live　in　the　Himelian　mountains　above　the　borders　of　Vendhya。　These　people　favor　the　Kosalans。　But　why　should　Kosalans　be　building　a　city　this　far　to　the　west？〃
　　The　figures　portrayed　were　those　of　slender；　olive…skinned　men　and　women；　with　finely　chiseled；　exotic　features。　They　wore　filmy　robes　and　many　delicate　jeweled　ornaments；　and　were　depicted　mostly　in　attitudes　of　feasting；　dancing；　or　lovemaking。
　　〃Easterners；　all　right；〃　grunted　Conan；　〃but　from　where　I　don't　know。　They　must　have　lived　a　disgustingly　peaceful　life；　though；　or　they'd　have　scenes　of　wars　and　fights。　Let's　go　up　those　stairs。〃
　　It　was　an　ivory　spiral　that　wound　up　from　the　chamber　in　which　they　were　standing。　They　mounted　three　flights　and　came　into　a　broad　chamber　on　the　fourth　floor；　which　seemed　to　be　the　highest　tier　in　the　building。　Skylights　in　the　ceiling　illuminated　the　room；　in　which　light　the　fire…gems　winked　pallidly。　Glancing　through　the　doors　they　saw；　except　on　one　side；　a　seies　of　similarly　lighted　chambers。　This　other　door　opened　upon　a　balustraded　gallery　that　overhung　a　hall　much　smaller　than　the　one　they　had　recently　explored　on　the　lower　floor。
　　〃Hell！〃　Valeria　sat　down　disgustedly　on　a　jade　bench。　〃The　people　who　deserted　this　city　must　have　taken　all　their　treasures　with　them。　I'm　tired　of　wandering　through　these　bare　rooms　at　random。〃
　　〃All　these　upper　chambers　seem　to　be　lighted；〃　said　Conan。　〃I　wish　we　could　find　a　window　that　overlooked　the　city。　Let's　have　a　look　through　that　door　over　there。〃
　　〃You　have　a　look；〃　advised　Valeria。　〃I'm　going　to　sit　here　and　rest　my　feet。〃
　　Conan　disappeared　through　the　door　opposite　that　one　opening　upon　the　gallery；　and　Valeria　leaned　back　with　her　hands　clasped　behind　her　head；　and　thrust　her　booted　legs　out　in　front　of　her。　These　silent　rooms　and　halls　with　their　gleaming　green　clusters　of　ornaments　and　burning　crimson　floors　were　beginning　to　depress　her。　She　wished　they　could　find　their　way　out　of　the　maze　into　which　they　had　wandered　and　emerge　into　a　street。　She　wondered　idly　what　furtive；　dark　feet　had　glided　over　those　flaming　floors　in　past　centuries；　how　many　deeds　of　cruelty　and　mystery　those　wrinking　ceiling…gems　had　blazed　down　upon。
　　It　was　a　faint　noise　that　brought　her　out　of　her　reflections。　She　was　on　her　feet　with　her　sword　in　her　hand　before　she　realized　what　had　disturbed　her。　Conan　had　not　returned；　and　she　knew　it　was　not　he　that　she　had　heard。
　　The　sound　had　e　from　somewhere　beyond　the　door　that　opened　on　to　the　gallery。　Soundlessly　in　her　soft　leather　boots　she　glided　through　it；　crept　across　the　balcony　and　peered　down　between　the　heavy　balustrades。
　　A　man　was　stealing　along　the　hall。
　　The　sight　of　a　human　being　in　this　supposedly　deserted　city　was　a　startling　shock。　Crouching　down　behind　the　stone　balusters；　with　every　nerve　tingling；　Valeria　glared　down　at　the　stealthy　figure。
　　The　man　in　no　way　resembled　the　figures　depicted　on　the　friezes。　He　was　slightly　above　middle　height；　very　dark；　though　not　Negroid。　He　was　naked　but　for　a　scanty　silk　clout　that　only　partly　covered　his　muscular　hips；　and　a　leather　girdle；　a　hand's　breadth　broad；　about　his　lean　waist。　His　long　black　hair　hung　in　lank　strands　about　his　shoulders；　giving　him　a　wild　appearance。　He　was　gaunt；　but　knots　and　cords　of　muscles　stood　out　on　his　arms　and　legs；　without　that　fleshy　padding　that　presents　a　pleasing　symmetry　of　contour。　He　was　built　with　an　economy　that　was　almost　repellent。
　　Yet　it　was　not　so　much　his　physical　appearance　as　his　attitude　that　impressed　the　woman　who　watched　him。　He　slunk　along；　stooped　in　a　semi…crouch；　his　head　turning　from　side　to　side。　He　grasped　a　wide…tipped　blade　in　his　right　hand　and　she　saw　it　shake　with　the　intensity　of　the　emotion　that　gripped　him。　He　was　afraid；　trembling　in　the　grip　of　some　dire　terror。　When　he　turned　his　head　she　caught　the　blaze　of　wild　eyes　among　the　lank　strands　of　black　hair。
　　He　did　not　see　her。　On　tiptoe　he　glided　across　the　hall　and　vanished　through　an　open　door。　A　moment　later　she　heard　a　choking　cry；　and　then　silence　fell　again。
　　Consumed　with　curiosity；　Valeria　glided　along　the　gallery　until　she　came　to　a　door　above　the　one　through　which　the　man　had　passed。　It　opened　into　another；　smaller　gallery　that　encircled　a　large　chamber。
　　This　chamber　was　on　the　third　floor；　and　its　ceiling　was　not　so　high　as　that　of　the　hall。　It　was　lighted　only　by　the　fire…stones；　and　their　weird　green　glow　left　the　spaces　under　the　balcony　in　shadows。
　　Valeria's　eyes　widened。　The　man　she　had　seen　was　still　in　the　chamber。
　　He　lay　face　down　on　a　dark　crimson　carpet　in　the　middle　of　the　room。　His　body　was　limp；　his　arms　spread　wide。　His　curved　sword　lay　near　him。
　　She　wondered　why　he　should　lie　there　so　motionless。　Then　her　eyes　narrowed　as　she　stared　down　at　the　rug　on　which　he　lay。　Beneath　and　about　him　the　fabric　showed　a　slightly　different　color；　a　deeper；　brighter　crimson。
　　Shivering　slightly；　she　crouched　down　closer　behind　the　balustrade；　intently　scanning　the　shadows　under　the　overhanging　gallery。　They　gave　up　no　secret。
　　Suddenly　another　figure　entered　the　grim　drama。　He　was　a　man　similar　to　the　first；　and　he　came　in　by　a　door　opposite　that　which　gave　upon　the　hall。
　　His　eyes　glared　at　the　sight　of　the　man　on　the　floor；　and　he　spoke　something　in　a　staccato　voice　that　sounded　like　〃Chicmec！〃　The　other　did　not　move。
　　The　man　stepped　quickly　across　the　floor；　bent；　gripped　the　fallen　man's　shoulder　and　turned　him　over。　A　choking　cry　escaped　him　as　the　head　fell　back　limply；　disclosing　a　throat　that　had　been　severed　from　ear　to　ear。
　　The　man　let　the　corpse　fall　back　upon　the　blood…stained　carpet；　and　sprang　to　his　feet；　shaking　like　a　windblown　leaf。　His　face　was　an　ashy　mask　of　fear。　But　with　one　knee　flexed　for　flight；　he　froze　suddenly；　became　as　immobile　as　an　image；　staring　across　the　chamber　with　dilated　eyes。
　　In　the　shadows　beneath　the　balcony　a　ghostly　light　began　to　glow　and　grow；　a　light　that　was　not　part　of　the　fire…stone　gleam。　Valeria　felt　her　hair　stir　as　she　watched　it；　for；　dimly　visible　in　the　throbbing　radiance；　there　floated　a　human　skull；　and　it　was　from　this　skull…human　yet　appallingly　misshapen…that　the　spectral　light　seemed　to　emanate。　It　hung　there　like　a　disembodied　head；　conjured　out　of　night　and　the　shadows；　growing　more　and　more　distinct；　human；　and　yet　not　human　as　she　knew　humanity。
　　The　man　stood　motionless；　an　embodiment　of　paralyzed　horror；　staring　fixedly　at　the　apparition。　The　thing　moved　out　from　the　wall　and　a　grotesque　shadows　moved　with　it。　Slowly　the　shadow　became　visible　as　a　man…like　figure　whose　naked　torso　and　limbs　shone　whitely；　with　the　hue　of　bleached　bones。　The　bare　skull　on　its　shoulders　grinned　eyelessly；　in　the　midst　of　its　unholy　nimbus；　and　the　man　confronting　it　seemed　unable　to　take　his　eyes　from　it。　He　stood　still；　his　sword　dangling　from　nerveless　fingers；　on　his　face　the　expression　of　a　man　bound　by　the　spells　of　a　mesmerist。
　　Valeria　realized　that　it　was　not　fear　alone　that　paralyzed　him。　Some　hellish　quality　of　that　throbbing　glow　had　robbed　him　of　his　power　to　think　and　act。　She　herself；　safely　above　the　scen