2 The Night Skulkers

It was the opening of a door which the Cimmerian. He did not as men do, and and stupid. He instantly, with a clear mind, the that had his sleep. Lying there in the dark he saw the door slowly open. In a of sky he saw a great black bulk, broad, and a out against the stars.

Conan the skin his shoulders. He had that door securely. How it be opening now, save by agency? And how a being a like that against the stars? All the he had in the Zuagir of and came to his with sweat. Now the into the room, with a and a gait; and a familiar the Cimmerian's nostrils, but did not him, since Zuagir as like that.

Noiselessly Conan his long under him; his was in his right hand, and when he it was as and as a tiger out of the dark. Not a have that charge. His met and through and bone, and something to the with a cry. Conan in the dark above it, in his hand. Devil or or man, the thing was there on the floor. He death as any wild thing it. He through the half-open door into the beyond. The gate open, but the was empty.

Conan the door but did not it. Groping in the he the lamp and it. There was oil in it to for a minute or so. An later he was over the that on the in a of blood.

It was a black man, but for a loin-cloth. One hand still a knotty-headed bludgeon. The fellow's was up into horn-like with and mud. This had the its in the starlight. Provided with a to the riddle, Conan pushed the thick red lips, and as he at teeth to points.

He now the of the who had from the house of Aram Baksh; the of the black out there the groves, and of that of bones—that where meat might be under the stars, while black about to a hunger. The man on the was a from Darfar.

There were many of his in the city. Cannibalism was not openly in Zamboula. But Conan now why people locked themselves in so at night, and why the open and ruins. He in as he black up and the streets, prey—and such men as Aram Baksh to open the doors to them. The was not a demon; he was worse. The from Darfar were thieves; there was no that some of their its way into the hands of Aram Baksh. And in return he them flesh.

Conan out the light, to the door and opened it, and ran his hand over the on the side. One of them was and the inside. The room was a to catch like rabbits. But this time of a it had a saber-toothed tiger.

Conan returned to the other door, the and pressed against it. It was and he the on the other side. Aram was taking no either with his or the men with he dealt. Buckling on his sword-belt, the Cimmerian out into the court, the door him. He had no of the settlement of his with Aram Baksh. He how many had been in their sleep and out of that room and the road that ran through the to the roasting-pit.

He in the court. The was still muttering, and he the of a red through the groves. Cannibalism was more than a with the black men of Darfar; it was an of their cult. The black were already in conclave. But their that night, it would not be his.

To Aram Baksh he must climb one of the which the small from the main compound. They were high, meant to keep out the man-eaters; but Conan was no swamp-bred black man; his had been in on the of his native hills. He was at the of the nearer when a under the trees.

In an Conan was at the gate, the road. The had come from the of the across the road. He a and such as might result from a attempt to shriek, with a black hand over the victim's mouth. A close-knit of from the the huts, and started the road—three black men a slender, them. Conan the of in the starlight, as, with a wrench, the from the of the and came up the road, a woman, as the day she was born. Conan saw her she ran out of the road and into the the huts. The blacks were at her heels, and in the the and an of and out.

Stirred to red by the of the episode, Conan across the road.

Neither were aware of his presence until the soft of the about his them about, and then he was almost upon them, with the of a hill wind. Two of the blacks to meet him, their bludgeons. But they failed to properly the speed at which he was coming. One of them was down, disemboweled, he strike, and cat-like, Conan the of the other's and in a counter-cut. The black's into the air; the took three steps, blood and at the air with hands, and then to the dust.

The gave with a yell, his from him. She and rolled in the dust, and the black in panic toward the city. Conan was at his heels. Fear the black feet, but they the hut, he death at his back, and like an ox in the slaughter-yards.

'Black dog of hell!' Conan his the with such that the out its length from the black breast. With a the black headlong, and Conan his and out his as his fell.

Only the the leaves. Conan his as a lion its and his blood-lust. But no more from the shadows, and the the road empty. He at the quick of him, but it was only the girl, to herself on him and his in a grasp, from terror of the she had just escaped.

'Easy, girl,' he grunted. 'You're all right. How did they catch you?'

She something unintelligible. He all about Aram Baksh as he her by the light of the stars. She was white, though a very brunette, one of Zamboula's many mixed breeds. She was tall, with a slender, form, as he was in a good position to observe. Admiration in his as he looked on her and her limbs, which still from and exertion. He passed an arm around her and said, reassuringly: 'Stop shaking, wench; you're safe enough.'

His touch to her sanity. She her thick, and a over her shoulder, while she pressed closer to the Cimmerian as if security in the contact.

'They me in the streets,' she muttered, shuddering. 'Lying in wait, a dark arch—black men, like great, apes! Set have on me! I shall of it!'

'What were you doing out on the this time of night?' he inquired, by the of her skin under his fingers.

She her and up into his face. She did not aware of his caresses.

'My lover,' she said. 'My lover me into the streets. He and to kill me. As I from him I was by those beasts.'

'Beauty like yours might drive a man mad,' Conan, his through her tresses.

She her head, like one from a daze. She no longer trembled, and her voice was steady.

'It was the of a priest—of Totrasmek, the high of Hanuman, who me for himself—the dog!'

'No need to him for that,' Conan. 'The old has taste than I thought.'

She the compliment. She was her swiftly.

'My lover is a—a Turanian soldier. To me, Totrasmek gave him a that him mad. Tonight he up a and came at me to me in his madness, but I from him into the streets. The me and me to this—what was that?'

Conan had already moved. Soundlessly as a he her the nearest hut, the palms. They in stillness, while the low had louder until voices were distinguishable. A group of negroes, some nine or ten, were along the road from the direction of the city. The girl Conan's arm and he the of her against his.

Now they the of the black men.

'Our have already assembled at the pit,' said one. 'We have had no luck. I they have for us.'

'Aram promised us a man,' another, and Conan promised Aram something.

'Aram his word,' yet another. 'Many a man we have taken from his tavern. But we pay him well. I myself have him ten of I from my master. It was good silk, by Set!'

The blacks past, up the dust, and their voices the road.

'Well for us those are these huts,' Conan. 'If they look in Aram's death-room they'll another. Let's begone.'

'Yes, let us hasten!' the girl, almost again. 'My lover is in the alone. The may take him.'

'A of a this is!' Conan, as he the way toward the city, the road but the and trees. 'Why don't the citizens clean out these black dogs?'

'They are valuable slaves,' the girl. 'There are so many of them they might if they were the for which they lust. The people of Zamboula know they the at night, and all are to locked doors, when something happens, as it did to me. The blacks on anything they catch, but they catch but strangers. The people of Zamboula are not with the that pass through the city.

'Such men as Aram Baksh sell these to the blacks. He would not attempt such a thing with a citizen.'

Conan in disgust, and a moment later his out into the road which was a street, with still, houses on each side. Slinking in the was not to his nature.

'Where do you want to go?' he asked. The girl did not to object to his arm about her waist.

'To my house, to my servants,' she answered. 'To them search for my lover. I do not wish the city—the priests—anyone—to know of his madness. He—he is a officer with a promising future. Perhaps we can drive this from him if we can him.'

'If we him?' Conan. 'What makes you think I want to the night the for a lunatic?'

She a quick into his face, and properly the in his eyes. Any woman have that he would her she led—for a while, at least. But being a woman, she her knowledge of that fact.

'Please,' she with a hint of in her voice, 'I have no one else to ask for help—you have been kind—'

'All right!' he grunted. 'All right! What's the reprobate's name?'

'Why—Alafdhal. I am Zabibi, a dancing-girl. I have often the satrap, Jungir Khan, and his Nafertari, and all the and ladies of Zamboula. Totrasmek me, and I him, he me the tool of his against Alafdhal. I asked a love of Totrasmek, not the of his and hate. He gave me a to mix with my lover's wine, and he that when Alafdhal it, he would love me more than ever, and my every wish. I mixed the with my lover's wine. But having drunk, my lover and came about as I have told you. Curse Totrasmek, the snake—ahhh!'

She his arm and stopped short. They had come into a of shops and stalls, all and unlighted, for the hour was late. They were an alley, and in its mouth a man was standing, and silent. His was lowered, but Conan the of them unblinkingly. His skin crawled, not with of the in the man's hand, but of the of his and silence. They madness. Conan pushed the girl and his sword.

'Don't kill him!' she begged. 'In the name of Set, do not him! You are strong—overpower him!'

'We'll see,' he muttered, his in his right hand and his left into a mallet-like fist.

He took a step toward the alley—and with a laugh the Turanian charged. As he came he his sword, on his as he put all the power of his the blows. Sparks as Conan the blade, and the next the was in the from a of Conan's left fist.

The girl ran forward.

'Oh, he is not—he is not—'

Conan swiftly, the man on his and ran quick over him.

'He's not much,' he grunted. 'Bleeding at the nose, but anybody's likely to do that, after a on the jaw. He'll come to after a bit, and maybe his mind will be right. In the meantime I'll tie his with his sword-belt—so. Now where do you want me to take him?'

'Wait!' She the figure, the hands and them avidly. Then, her as if in disappointment, she rose. She came close to the Cimmerian, and her hands on his breast. Her dark eyes, like wet black in the starlight, up into his.

'You are a man! Help me! Totrasmek must die! Slay him for me!'

'And put my into a Turanian noose?' he grunted.

'Nay!' The arms, as steel, were around his neck. Her against his. 'The Hyrkanians have no love for Totrasmek. The of Set him. He is a mongrel, who men by and superstition. I Set, and the Turanians to Erlik, but Totrasmek to Hanuman the accursed! The Turanian his black and his power over the population, and they him. If he were in his temple at night, they would not his very closely.'

'And what of his magic?' the Cimmerian.

'You are a fighting-man,' she answered. 'To your life is part of your profession.'

'For a price,' he admitted.

'There will be a price!' she breathed, on tiptoe, to into his eyes.

The of her a through his veins. The perfume of her to his brain. But as his arms closed about her she them with a movement, saying: 'Wait! First me in this matter.'

'Name your price.' He spoke with some difficulty.

'Pick up my lover,' she directed, and the Cimmerian and the tall easily to his shoulder. At the moment he as if he have over Jungir Khan's with equal ease. The girl an to the man, and there was no in her attitude. She loved Alafdhal sincerely. Whatever she with Conan would have no on her relationship with Alafdhal. Women are more practical about these than men.

'Follow me!' She along the street, while the Cimmerian easily after her, in no way by his burden. He a out for black under arches, but saw nothing suspicious. Doubtless the men of Darfar were all at the roasting-pit. The girl a narrow street, and presently at an door.

Almost a opened in the upper panel, and a black out. She close to the opening, swiftly. Bolts in their sockets, and the door opened. A black man against the soft of a copper lamp. A quick Conan the man was not from Darfar. His teeth were and his was close to his skull. He was from the Wadai.

At a word from Zabibi, Conan gave the into the black's arms, and saw the officer on a divan. He no of returning consciousness. The that had him might have an ox. Zabibi over him for an instant, her and twisting. Then she and the Cimmerian.

The door closed softly, the them, and the off the of the lamps. In the of the Zabibi took Conan's hand. Her own hand a little.

'You will not fail me?'

He his head, against the stars.

'Then me to Hanuman's shrine, and the gods have on our souls!'

Along the they moved like of antiquity. They in silence. Perhaps the girl was of her lover on the under the copper lamps; or was with of what ahead of them in the demon-haunted of Hanuman. The was only of the woman moving so him. The perfume of her was in his nostrils, the of her presence his brain and left room for no other thoughts.

Once they the of brass-shod feet, and into the of a while a of Pelishtim past. There were fifteen of them; they in close formation, at the ready, and the men had their on their backs, to protect them from a knife-stroke from behind. The of the black man-eaters was a threat to men.

As soon as the of their sandals had up the street, Conan and the girl from their hiding-place and on. A moments later they saw the squat, flat-topped they ahead of them.

The temple of Hanuman alone in the of a square, which and the stars. A marble the shrine, with a opening directly the portico. This opening had no gate or any of barrier.

'Why don't the blacks their here?' Conan. 'There's nothing to keep them out of the temple.'

He the of Zabibi's as she pressed close to him.

'They Totrasmek, as all in Zamboula him, Jungir Khan and Nafertari. Come! Come quickly, my from me like water!'

The girl's was evident, but she did not falter. Conan his and ahead of her as they through the open gateway. He the of the of the East, and was aware that an of Hanuman's might to almost any of horror. He there was a good that neither he the girl would the alive, but he had his life too many times to much to that consideration.

They entered a with marble which in the starlight. A of marble steps up to the portico. The great doors wide open as they had for centuries. But no within. In the day men and might come into the and place to the ape-god on the black altar. At night the people the temple of Hanuman as the of the serpent.

Burning the in a soft that an of unreality. Near the wall, the black altar, sat the god with his for on the open door, through which for centuries his had come, by of roses. A ran from the to the altar, and when Conan's it, he away as as if he had upon a snake. That had been by the of the of those who had died on that altar.

Bestial in the light Hanuman with his mask. He sat, not as an would crouch, but cross-legged as a man would sit, but his was no less for that reason. He was from black marble, but his were rubies, which red and as the of hell's pits. His great hands upon his lap, upward, spread and grasping. In the of his attributes, in the of his satyr-countenance, was the of the which him.

The girl moved around the image, making toward the wall, and when her against a knee, she and as if a had touched her. There was a space of the of the and the marble with its of gold leaves. On either hand, the idol, an door under a gold was set in the wall.

'Those doors open into each end of a hair-pin corridor,' she said hurriedly. 'Once I was in the of the shrine—once!' She and her at a memory and obscene. 'The is like a horseshoe, with each opening into this room. Totrasmek's are the of the and open into it. But there is a door in this which opens directly into an chamber—'

She to her hands over the surface, where no or showed. Conan her, in hand, about him. The silence, the of the shrine, with what might that wall, him like a wild a trap.

'Ah!' The girl had a at last; a square opening in the wall. 'Set!' she screamed, and as Conan toward her, he saw that a great hand had itself in her hair. She was off her and head-first through the opening. Conan, at her, his from a limb, and in an she had and the blank as before. Only from it came the of a struggle, a scream, heard, and a low laugh that Conan's blood in his veins.