O Sleeper, Awake!
The long flickered, sending the black along the walls, and the rippled. Yet there was no wind in the chamber. Four men about the table on which the green that like jade. In the right hand of each man a black with a light. Outside was night and a wind among the black trees.
Inside the was silence, and the of the shadows, while four of eyes, with intensity, were on the long green case across which writhed, as if life and movement by the light. The man at the of the over it and moved his as if he were with a pen, a symbol in the air. Then he set the in its black gold at the of the case, and, some to his companions, he a white hand into his fur-trimmed robe. When he it again it was as if he in his a of fire.
The other three in their sharply, and the dark, powerful man who at the of the whispered: 'The Heart of Ahriman!' The other a quick hand for silence. Somewhere a dog dolefully, and a step the and door. But none looked from the mummy-case over which the man in the ermine-trimmed was now moving the great while he an that was old when Atlantis sank. The of the their eyes, so that they not be sure of what they saw; but with a crash, the of the as if from some pressure from within, and the four men, forward, saw the occupant—a huddled, withered, shape, with like through bandages.
'Bring that thing back?' the small dark man who on the right, with a laugh. 'It is to at a touch. We are fools—'
'Shhh!' It was an urgent of from the large man who the jewel. Perspiration upon his white and his were dilated. He forward, and, without the thing with his hand, on the of the the jewel. Then he and with intensity, his moving in invocation.
It was as if a of fire and on the dead, bosom. And in, hissing, through the teeth of the watchers. For as they watched, an apparent. The shape in the was expanding, was growing, lengthening. The and into dust. The swelled, straightened. Their to fade.
'By Mitra!' the tall, yellow-haired man on the left. 'He was not a Stygian. That part at least was true.'
Again a for silence. The was no longer howling. He whimpered, as with an dream, and then that sound, too, died away in silence, in which the yellow-haired man the of the door, as if something pushed powerfully upon it. He turned, his hand at his sword, but the man in the an urgent warning: 'Stay! Do not the chain! And on your life do not go to the door!'
The yellow-haired man and back, and then he stopped short, staring. In the a man: a tall, man, naked, white of skin, and dark of and beard. He motionless, his wide open, and blank and as a babe's. On his the great and sparkled.
The man in as if from some let-down of tension.
'Ishtar!' he gasped. 'It is Xaltotun!—and he lives! Valerius! Tarascus! Amalric! Do you see? Do you see? You me—but I have not failed! We have been close to the open gates of this night, and the of have close about us—aye, they him to the very door—but we have the great to life.'
'And our to everlasting, I not,' the small, dark man, Tarascus.
The yellow-haired man, Valerius, laughed harshly.
'What can be than life itself? So we are all together from birth. Besides, who would not sell his for a throne?'
'There is no in his stare, Orastes,' said the large man.
'He has long been dead,' answered Orastes. 'He is as one newly awakened. His mind is empty after the long sleep—nay, he was dead, not sleeping. We his over the and of night and oblivion. I will speak to him.'
He over the of the sarcophagus, and his on the wide dark of the man within, he said, slowly: 'Awake, Xaltotun!'
The of the man moved mechanically. 'Xaltotun!' he in a whisper.
'You are Xaltotun!' Orastes, like a home his suggestions. 'You are Xaltotun of Python, in Acheron.'
A in the dark eyes.
'I was Xaltotun,' he whispered. 'I am dead.'
'You are Xaltotun!' Orastes. 'You are not dead! You live!'
'I am Xaltotun,' came the whisper. 'But I am dead. In my house in Khemi, in Stygia, there I died.'
'And the who you your with their dark arts, all your organs intact!' Orastes. 'But now you live again! The Heart of Ahriman has your life, your from space and eternity.'
'The Heart of Ahriman!' The of stronger. 'The it from me!'
'He remembers,' Orastes. 'Lift him from the case.'
The others hesitantly, as if to touch the man they had recreated, and they not in their minds when they flesh, with blood and life, their fingers. But they him upon the table, and Orastes him in a dark robe, with gold and moons, and a cloth-of-gold about his temples, the black that to his shoulders. He let them do as they would, saying nothing, not when they set him in a throne-like chair with a high and wide arms, and like claws. He sat there motionless, and slowly in his dark and them and and luminous. It was as if long-sunken slowly up through midnight of darkness.
Orastes a at his companions, who in at their guest. Their iron nerves had an that might have men mad. He it was with no that he conspired, but men was as as their and for evil. He his attention to the in the ebon-black chair. And this one spoke at last.
'I remember,' he said in a strong, voice, speaking Nemedian with a curious, accent. 'I am Xaltotun, who was high of Set in Python, which was in Acheron. The Heart of Ahriman—I I had it again—where is it?'
Orastes it in his hand, and he as he into the of the terrible in his grasp.
'They it from me, long ago,' he said. 'The red of the night it is, to save or to damn. It came from afar, and from long ago. While I it, none me. But it was from me, and Acheron fell, and I in into dark Stygia. Much I remember, but much I have forgotten. I have been in a land, across and and oceans. What is the year?'
Orastes answered him. 'It is the of the Year of the Lion, three thousand years after the of Acheron.'
'Three thousand years!' the other. 'So long? Who are you?'
'I am Orastes, once a of Mitra. This man is Amalric, of Tor, in Nemedia; this other is Tarascus, of the king of Nemedia; and this tall man is Valerius, of the of Aquilonia.'
'Why have you me life?' Xaltotun. 'What do you of me?'
The man was now alive and awake, his the of an brain. There was no or in his manner. He came directly to the point, as one who that no man something for nothing. Orastes met him with equal candor.
'We have opened the doors of this night to free your and return it to your we need your aid. We wish to place Tarascus on the of Nemedia, and to win for Valerius the of Aquilonia. With your you can us.'
Xaltotun's mind was and full of slants.
'You must be in the yourself, Orastes, to have been able to my life. How is it that a of Mitra of the Heart of Ahriman, and the of Skelos?'
'I am no longer a of Mitra,' answered Orastes. 'I was from my order of my in black magic. But for Amalric there I might have been as a magician.
'But that left me free to my studies. I in Zamora, in Vendhya, in Stygia, and among the of Khitai. I read the iron-bound books of Skelos, and talked with in wells, and in black jungles. I a of your in the demon-haunted the black giant-walled temple of Set in the of Stygia, and I learned of the that would life to your corpse. From I learned of the Heart of Ahriman. Then for a year I its hiding-place, and at last I it.'
'Then why trouble to me to life?' Xaltotun, with his on the priest. 'Why did you not the Heart to your own power?'
'Because no man today the of the Heart,' answered Orastes. 'Not in live the by which to its full powers. I it life; of its I am ignorant. I used it to you to life. It is the use of your knowledge we seek. As for the Heart, you alone know its secrets.'
Xaltotun his head, into the depths.
'My knowledge is than the of all the knowledge of other men,' he said; 'yet I do not know the full power of the jewel. I did not it in the old days; I it it be used against me. At last it was stolen, and in the hands of a of the it all my sorcery. Then it vanished, and I was by the of Stygia I learn where it was hidden.'
'It was in a the temple of Mitra, in Tarantia,' said Orastes. 'By I this, after I had your in Set's temple in Stygia.
'Zamorian thieves, protected by I learned from left unmentioned, your mummy-case from under the very of those which it in the dark, and by camel-caravan and and ox-wagon it came at last to this city.
'Those same thieves—or those of them who still after their quest—stole the Heart of Ahriman from its the temple of Mitra, and all the skill of men and the of nearly failed. One man of them long to me and give the into my hands, he died and of what he had in that crypt. The of Zamora are the most of men to their trust. Even with my conjurements, none but they have the Heart from where it has in demon-guarded since the of Acheron, three thousand years ago.'
Xaltotun his lion-like and off into space, as if the centuries.
'Three thousand years!' he muttered. 'Set! Tell me what has in the world.'
'The who Acheron set up new kingdoms,' Orastes. 'Where the had now rose called Aquilonia, and Nemedia, and Argos, from the that them. The older of Ophir, Corinthia and western Koth, which had been to the kings of Acheron, their with the of the empire.'
'And what of the people of Acheron?' Xaltotun. 'When I into Stygia, Python was in ruins, and all the great, purple-towered of Acheron with blood and by the sandals of the barbarians.'
'In the small groups of still from Acheron,' answered Orastes. 'For the rest, the of my rolled over them and them out. They—my ancestors—had much from the kings of Acheron.'
A and terrible the Pythonian's lips.
'Aye! Many a barbarian, man and woman, died on the under this hand. I have their to make a in the great square in Python when the kings returned from the west with their and captives.'
'Aye. And when the day of came, the was not spared. So Acheron to be, and purple-towered Python a memory of days. But the rose on the and great. And now we have you to us to these kingdoms, which, if less and than Acheron of old, are yet rich and powerful, well for. Look!' Orastes the a map on vellum.
Xaltotun it, and then his head, baffled.
'The very of the land are changed. It is like some familiar thing in a dream, distorted.'
'Howbeit,' answered Orastes, with his forefinger, 'here is Belverus, the of Nemedia, in which we now are. Here the of the land of Nemedia. To the south and are Ophir and Corinthia, to the east Brythunia, to the west Aquilonia.'
'It is the map of a world I do not know,' said Xaltotun softly, but Orastes did not miss the fire of that in his dark eyes.
'It is a map you shall help us change,' answered Orastes. 'It is our to set Tarascus on the of Nemedia. We wish to this without strife, and in such a way that no will on Tarascus. We do not wish the land to be by wars, but to all our power for the of Aquilonia.
'Should King Nimed and his sons die naturally, in a for instance, Tarascus would the as the next heir, peacefully and unopposed.'
Xaltotun nodded, without replying, and Orastes continued.
'The other will be more difficult. We cannot set Valerius on the Aquilonian without a war, and that is a foe. Its people are a hardy, war-like race, by with the Picts, Zingarians and Cimmerians. For five hundred years Aquilonia and Nemedia have war, and the has always with the Aquilonians.
'Their present king is the most among the western nations. He is an outlander, an who the by a time of strife, King Namedides with his own hands, upon the very throne. His name is Conan, and no man can him in battle.
'Valerius is now the of the throne. He had been into by his kinsman, Namedides, and has been away from his native for years, but he is of the blood of the old dynasty, and many of the would the of Conan, who is a nobody without or blood. But the common people are to him, and the of the provinces. Yet if his were in the that must take place, and Conan himself slain, I think it would not be difficult to put Valerius on the throne. Indeed, with Conan slain, the only center of the government would be gone. He is not part of a dynasty, but only a adventurer.'
'I wish that I might see this king,' Xaltotun, toward a which one of the panels of the wall. This no reflection, but Xaltotun's that he its purpose, and Orastes with the a good takes in the of his by a master of his craft.
'I will try to him to you,' he said. And seating himself the mirror, he into its depths, where presently a to take shape.
It was uncanny, but those it was no more than the image of Orastes' thought, in that as a wizard's are in a magic crystal. It hazily, then into clarity—a tall man, and of chest, with a and limbs. He was in and velvet, with the lions of Aquilonia in gold upon his rich jupon, and the of Aquilonia on his square-cut black mane; but the great at his more natural to him than the accouterments. His was low and broad, his a that as if with some fire. His dark, scarred, almost was that of a fighting-man, and his not the hard, lines of his limbs.
'That man is no Hyborian!' Xaltotun.
'No; he is a Cimmerian, one of those wild who in the of the north.'
'I his of old,' Xaltotun. 'Not the kings of Acheron them.'
'They still a terror to the nations of the south,' answered Orastes. 'He is a true son of that race, and has proved himself, thus far, unconquerable.'
Xaltotun did not reply; he sat at the of fire that in his hand. Outside, the again, long and shudderingly.
