4 Dance, Girl, Dance!
When Zabibi was head-first through the which opened in the the idol, her first, dizzy, was that her time had come. She her and waited for the to fall. But she herself onto the marble floor, which her and hip. Opening her she around her, just as a impact from the wall. She saw a brown-skinned in a loin-cloth over her, and, across the into which she had come, a man sat on a divan, with his to a rich curtain, a broad, man, with white hands and eyes. And her crawled, for this man was Totrasmek, the of Hanuman, who for years had his of power the city of Zamboula.
'The to his way through the wall,' said Totrasmek sardonically, 'but the will hold.'
The girl saw that a had been across the door, which was from this of the wall. The and its would have the of an elephant.
'Go open one of the doors for him, Baal-pteor,' ordered Totrasmek. 'Slay him in the square at the other end of the corridor.'
The Kosalan and by the way of a door in the of the chamber. Zabibi rose, at the priest, ran over her figure. To this she was indifferent. A dancer of Zamboula was to nakedness. But the in his started her to quivering.
'Again you come to me in my retreat, one,' he with hypocrisy. 'It is an honor. You to your visit so little, that I not for you to repeat it. Yet I did all in my power to provide you with an experience.'
For a Zamboulan dancer to would be an impossibility, but a of anger with the in Zabibi's eyes.
'Fat pig! You know I did not come here for love of you.'
'No,' laughed Totrasmek, 'you came like a fool, through the night with a to cut my throat. Why should you my life?'
'You know why!' she cried, the of trying to dissemble.
'You are of your lover,' he laughed. 'The that you are here my life that he the I gave you. Well, did you not ask for it? And did I not send what you asked for, out of the love I you?'
'I asked you for a that would make him for a hours,' she said bitterly. 'And you—you sent your with a that him mad! I was a to trust you. I might have your of were lies, to your and spite.'
'Why did you wish your lover to sleep?' he retorted. 'So you from him the only thing he would give you—the ring with the men call the Star of Khorala—the star from the Queen of Ophir, who would pay a of gold for its return. He would not give it to you willingly, he that it a magic which, when properly controlled, will the of any of the opposite sex. You to it from him, that his would the key to that magic and he would you in his of the of the world. You would sell it to the queen of Ophir, who its power and would use it to men, as she did it was stolen.'
'And why did you want it?' she sulkily.
'I its powers. It would the power of my arts.'
'Well,' she snapped, 'you have it now!'
'I have the Star of Khorala? Nay, you err.'
'Why to lie?' she bitterly. 'He had it on his when he me into the streets. He did not have it when I him again. Your must have been the house, and have taken it from him, after I him. To the with it! I want my lover and whole. You have the ring; you have us both. Why do you not his mind to him? Can you?'
'I could,' he her, in of her distress. He a from among his robes. 'This the juice of the lotus. If your lover it he would be again. Yes, I will be merciful. You have and me, not once but many times; he has my wishes. But I will be merciful. Come and take the from my hand.'
She at Totrasmek, with to it, but it was but some jest. She timidly, with a hand extended, and he laughed and out of her reach. Even as her to him, some her upward. From the four jade-hued were falling. She dodged, but they did not her. They to the about her, the four of a square. And she screamed, and again. For out of each the of a cobra, and one at her leg. Her movement to it her of the one on the other and again she had to shift like to avoid the of its head.
She was in a trap. All four were and at foot, ankle, calf, knee, thigh, hip, of her to be nearest to them, and she not over them or pass them to safety. She only and and her to avoid the strokes, and each time she moved to one snake, the motion her range of another, so that she had to keep shifting with the speed of light. She move only a space in any direction, and the were her every second. Only a dancer of Zamboula have in that square.
She became, herself, a of motion. The missed her by hair's breadths, but they missed, as she her feet, and perfect against the speed of the her enemy had out of thin air.
Somewhere a thin music up, with the of the serpents, like an night-wind through the empty of a skull. Even in the speed of her urgent she that the of the was no longer at random. They the of the music. They with a rhythm, and her swaying, writhing, itself to their rhythm. Her melted into the of a to which the most of Zamora would have and restrained. Sick with and terror Zabibi the of her tormentor.
'The Dance of the Cobras, my one!' laughed Totrasmek. 'So in the to Hanuman centuries ago—but with such and suppleness. Dance, girl, dance! How long can you avoid the of the Poison People? Minutes? Hours? You will at last. Your swift, sure will stumble, your falter, your slow in their rotations. Then the will to into your flesh—'
Behind him the as if by a of wind, and Totrasmek screamed. His and his hands at the length of which from his breast.
The music off short. The girl in her dance, out in of the fangs—and then only four of up from the about her, as Totrasmek from the divan.
Conan came from the curtain, his blade. Looking through the he had the girl dancing four of smoke, but he had that their was very different to her. He he had killed Totrasmek.
Zabibi on the floor, panting, but as Conan started toward her, she up again, though her with exhaustion.
'The phial!' she gasped. 'The phial!'
Totrasmek still it in his hand. Ruthlessly she it from his locked fingers, and then to his garments.
'What the are you looking for?' Conan demanded.
'A ring—he it from Alafdhal. He must have, while my lover walked in through the streets. Set's devils!'
She had herself that it was not on the person of Totrasmek. She to about the chamber, up divan-covers and hangings, and vessels.
She paused and a lock of out of her eyes.
'I Baal-pteor!'
'He's in with his broken,' Conan her.
She at the news, but an later expressively.
'We can't here. It's not many hours until dawn. Lesser are likely to visit the temple at any hour of the night, and if we're here with his corpse, the people will tear us to pieces. The Turanians not save us.'
She the on the door, and a moments later they were in the and away from the square where the age-old of Hanuman.
In a a away Conan and his with a hand on her shoulder.
'Don't there was a price—'
'I have not forgotten!' She free. 'But we must go to—to Alafdhal first!'
A minutes later the black let them through the door. The Turanian upon the divan, his arms and with ropes. His were open, but they were like those of a dog, and was thick on his lips. Zabibi shuddered.
'Force his open!' she commanded, and Conan's iron the task.
Zabibi the the maniac's gullet. The was like magic. Instantly he quiet. The from his eyes; he up at the girl in a puzzled way, but with and intelligence. Then he into a normal slumber.
'When he he will be sane,' she whispered, to the slave.
With a he gave into her hands a small bag, and about her a cloak. Her manner had when she Conan to her out of the chamber.
In an that opened on the street, she to him, herself up with a new regality.
'I must now tell you the truth,' she said. 'I am not Zabibi. I am Nafertari. And he is not Alafdhal, a captain of the guardsmen. He is Jungir Khan, of Zamboula.'
Conan no comment; his dark was immobile.
'I to you I not the truth to anyone,' she said. 'We were alone when Jungir Khan mad. None of it but myself. Had it been that the of Zamboula was a madman, there would have been and rioting, as Totrasmek planned, who plotted our destruction.
'You see now how is the for which you hoped. The satrap's is not—cannot be for you. But you shall not go unrewarded. Here is a of gold.'
She gave him the she had from the slave.
'Go, now, and when the sun is come up to the palace, I will have Jungir Khan make you captain of his guard. But you will take your orders from me, secretly. Your will be to a to the of Hanuman, to search for of the priest's slayer; in to search for the Star of Khorala. It must be there somewhere. When you it, it to me. You have my to go now.'
He nodded, still silent, and away. The girl, the of his shoulders, was to note that there was nothing in his to that he was in any way or abashed.
When he had a corner, he back, and then his direction and his pace. A moments later he was in the of the city the Horse Market. There he on a door until from the window above a was to the for the disturbance.
'A horse,' Conan. 'The you have.'
'I open no gates at this time of night,' the horse-trader.
Conan his coins.
'Dog's son knave! Don't you see I'm white, and alone? Come down, I your door!'
Presently, on a stallion, Conan was toward the house of Aram Baksh.
He off the road into the that the and the date-palm garden, but he did not pause at the gate. He on to the of the wall, then and along the north wall, to a of the angle. No trees near the wall, but there were some low bushes. To one of these he his horse, and was about to climb into the again, when he a low of voices the of the wall.
Drawing his from the he to the and around it. Three men were moving the road toward the groves, and from their he they were negroes. They at his low call, themselves as he toward them, his in his hand. Their in the starlight. Their in their faces, but they their three not against his sword, just as he it.
'Where are you going?' he challenged.
'To our put out the fire in the the groves,' was the sullen, reply. 'Aram Baksh promised us a man, but he lied. We one of our in the trap-chamber. We go this night.'
'I think not,' Conan. 'Aram Baksh will give you a man. Do you see that door?'
He pointed to a small, iron-bound portal set in the of the western wall.
'Wait there. Aram Baksh will give you a man.'
Backing away until he was out of of a blow, he and melted around the of the wall. Reaching his he paused to that the blacks were not after him, and then he into the and on it, the with a low word. He up, the of the and himself up and over. There he the for an instant. The was in the of the enclosure, the space of which was by and gardens. He saw no one in the grounds. The was dark and silent, and he all the doors and were and bolted.
Conan that Aram Baksh slept in a that opened into a cypress-bordered path that to the door in the western wall. Like a he among the trees and a moments later he on the door.
'What is it?' asked a voice within.
'Aram Baksh!' Conan. 'The blacks are over the wall!'
Almost the door opened, the tavern-keeper, but for his shirt, with a in his hand.
He his to into the Cimmerian's face.
'What is this—you!'
Conan's the in his throat. They to the together and Conan the from his enemy's hand. The in the starlight, and blood spurted. Aram Baksh noises, and on a of blood. Conan him to his and again the slashed, and most of the to the floor.
Still his captive's throat—for a man can with his slit—Conan him out of the dark and the cypress-shadowed path, to the iron-bound door in the wall. With one hand he the and the door open, the three which waited like black outside. Into their arms Conan the innkeeper.
A horrible, blood-choked rose from the Zamboulan's throat, but there was no response from the tavern. The people there were used to the wall. Aram Baksh like a wild man, his on the Cimmerian's face. He no there. Conan was of the of who their to this man's greed.
In the him the road, his gibberings. How they Aram Baksh in this half-naked, figure, with the and babblings? The of the came to Conan, the gate, after the of had among the palms.
Closing the door him, Conan returned to his horse, and westward, toward the open desert, wide to skirt the of groves. As he rode, he from his a ring in which a that the in a iridescence. He it up to it, it this way and that. The of gold pieces at his saddle-bow, like a promise of the to come.
'I wonder what she'd say if she I her as Nafertari and him as Jungir Khan the I saw them,' he mused. 'I the Star of Khorala, too. There'll be a if she that I it off his while I was him with his sword-belt. But they'll catch me, with the start I'm getting.'
He at the groves, among which a red was mounting. A rose to the night, with exultation. And another with it, a mad, screaming, a in which no be distinguished. The noise Conan as he the stars.
