Dying Embers

The about Tarantia had the of the more provinces. There were of the of a army in hedges, and granaries, but and had not been wholesale.

There was but one on the landscape—a of and stone, where, Conan knew, had once the of one of his supporters.

The king not openly approach the Galannus farm, which only a miles from the city. In the he through an woodland, until he a keeper's through the trees. Dismounting and his horse, he approached the thick, door with the of sending the after Servius. He did not know what the house might be sheltering. He had no troops, but they might be all over the countryside. But as he near, he saw the door open and a in and and turn up a path that away through the woods.

'Servius!'

At the low call the master of the with a exclamation. His hand to the hunting-sword at his hip, and he from the tall in the him.

'Who are you?' he demanded. 'What is your—Mitra!'

His and his paled. 'Avaunt!' he ejaculated. 'Why have you come from the lands of death to me? I was always your true in your lifetime——'

'As I still you to be,' answered Conan. 'Stop trembling, man; I'm and blood.'

Sweating with Servius approached and into the of the mail-clad giant, and then, of the of what he saw, he to one and his cap.

'Your Majesty! Truly, this is a belief! The great in the has your dirge, days agone. Men said you died at Valkia, under a of earth and granite.'

'It was another in my harness,' Conan. 'But let us talk later. If there is such a thing as a joint of on your board——'

'Forgive me, my lord!' Servius, to his feet. 'The of travel is on your mail, and I keep you here without or sup! Mitra! I see well now that you are alive, but I swear, when I and saw you all and in the twilight, the of my to water. It is an thing to meet a man you in the at dusk.'

'Bid the see to my which is oak,' Conan, and Servius nodded, the king up the path. The patrician, from his fright, had nervous.

'I will send a from the manor,' he said. 'The is in his lodge—but I not trust my in these days. It is that only I know of your presence.'

Approaching the great house that through the trees, he into a little-used path that ran close-set a overhead, out the light of the dusk. Servius on through the without speaking, and with something panic in his manner, and presently Conan through a small side-door into a narrow, corridor. They this in and silence, and Servius the king into a with a high, oak-beamed and walls. Logs in the wide fireplace, for there was a to the air, and a great meat in a on a board. Servius locked the door and the that in a on the table, the only by the fire on the hearth.

'Your pardon, your Majesty,' he apologized. 'These are times; everywhere. It were that none be able to through the and you. This pasty, however, is just from the oven, as I on my return from talk with my keeper. If your Majesty would deign——'

'The light is sufficient,' Conan, seating himself with ceremony, and his poniard.

He into the dish, and it with great of from in Servius' vineyards. He to any of peril, but Servius on his settle by the fire, the gold about his neck. He at the diamond-panes of the casement, in the firelight, and his ear toward the door, as if to the of in the without.

Finishing his meal, Conan rose and seated himself on another settle the fire.

'I won't you long by my presence, Servius,' he said abruptly. 'Dawn will me from your plantation.'

'My lord——' Servius his hands in expostulation, but Conan his aside.

'I know your and your courage. Both are above reproach. But if Valerius has my throne, it would be death for you to me, if you were discovered.'

'I am not to him openly,' Servius. 'The fifty men-at-arms I lead to would be but a of straws. You saw the of Emilius Scavonus' plantation?'

Conan nodded, darkly.

'He was the in this province, as you know. He to give his to Valerius. The Nemedians him in the of his own villa. After that the of us saw the of resistance, as the people of Tarantia to fight. We submitted and Valerius our lives, though he a tax upon us that will many. But what we do? We you were dead. Many of the had been slain, others taken prisoner. The army was and scattered. You have no to take the crown. There was no one to lead us——'

'Was there not Count Trocero of Poitain?' Conan harshly.

Servius spread his hands helplessly.

'It is true that his Prospero was in the with a small army. Retreating Amalric, he men to to his banner. But with your Majesty dead, men old and brawls, and how Trocero and his Poitanians once through these as Amalric was now, with and sword. The were of Trocero. Some men—spies of Valerius perhaps—shouted that the Count of Poitain the for himself. Old up again. If we had had one man with blood in his we would have and him against Nemedia. But we had none.

'The who you would not one of their own number, each himself as good as his neighbor, each the of the others. You were the that the together. When the was cut, the apart. If you had had a son, the would have to him. But there was no point for their to focus upon.

'The merchants and commoners, and a return of days when each was his own law, out that any king was than none, Valerius, who was at least of the blood of the old dynasty. There was no one to oppose him when he up at the of his steel-clad hosts, with the of Nemedia over him, and his against the gates of Tarantia.

'Nay, the people open the gates and in the him. They had to Prospero in the city. They said they had be by Valerius than by Trocero. They said—truthfully—that the would not to Trocero, but that many would accept Valerius. They said that by to Valerius they would the of war, and the of the Nemedians. Prospero with his ten thousand knights, and the of the Nemedians entered the city a hours later. They did not him. They to see that Valerius was in Tarantia.'

'Then the old witch's the truth,' Conan, a along his spine. 'Amalric Valerius?'

'Aye, in the hall, with the blood of on his hands.'

'And do the people under his rule?' asked Conan with angry irony.

'He like a in the of a land,' answered Servius bitterly. 'His is with Nemedians, the are of the same breed, and a large of them the citadel. Aye, the hour of the Dragon has come at last.

'Nemedians like through the streets. Women are and merchants daily, and Valerius either can, or will, make no attempt to them. Nay, he is but their puppet, their figurehead. Men of he would be, and the people are to it out.

'Amalric has with a army to the where some of the have him. But there is no among them. Their of each other is than their of Amalric. He will them one by one. Many and cities, that, have sent in their submission. Those who miserably. The Nemedians are their long hatred. And their ranks are by Aquilonians fear, gold, or of are into their armies. It is a natural consequence.'

Conan somberly, at the red of the on the panels.

'Aquilonia has a king of the they feared,' said Servius at last. 'Valerius not protect his against his allies. Hundreds who not pay the upon them have been to the Kothic slave-traders.'

Conan's up and a his eyes. He gustily, his hands into iron hammers.

'Aye, white men sell white men and white women, as it was in the days. In the of Shem and of Turan they will live out the of slaves. Valerius is king, but the for which the people looked, though of the sword, is not complete.

'Gunderland in the north and Poitain in the south are yet unconquered, and there are in the west, where the border have the of the Bossonian bowmen. Yet these are no to Valerius. They must on the defensive, and will be lucky if they are able to keep their independence. Here Valerius and his are supreme.'

'Let him make the best of it then,' said Conan grimly. 'His time is short. The people will when they learn that I'm alive. We'll take Tarantia Amalric can return with his army. Then we'll these dogs from the kingdom.'

Servius was silent. The of the fire was loud in the stillness.

'Well,' Conan impatiently, 'why do you with your bent, at the hearth? Do you what I have said?'

Servius the king's eye.

'What man can do, you will do, your Majesty,' he answered. 'I have you in battle, and I know that no being can your sword.'

'What, then?'

Servius his fur-trimmed closer about him, and in of the flame.

'Men say your was by sorcery,' he said presently.

'What then?'

'What can against sorcery? Who is this man who at midnight with Valerius and his allies, as men say, who and so mysteriously? Men say in that he is a great who died thousands of years ago, but has returned from death's lands to the king of Aquilonia and the of which Valerius is heir.'

'What matter?' Conan angrily. 'I from the devil-haunted of Belverus, and from in the mountains. If the people rise——'

Servius his head.

'Your supporters in the and are dead, or imprisoned. Gunderland is to the north, Poitain to the south. The Bossonians have retired to their to the west. It would take to and these forces, and that be done, each would be by Amalric and destroyed.'

'But an in the would the for us!' Conan. 'We Tarantia and it against Amalric until the Gundermen and Poitanians here.'

Servius hesitated, and his voice to a whisper.

'Men say you died accursed. Men say this a spell upon you to you and your army. The great has your dirge. Men you to be dead. And the would not rise, if they you lived. They would not dare. Sorcery you at Valkia. Sorcery the news to Tarantia, for that very night men were of it in the streets.

'A Nemedian black magic again in the of Tarantia to men who still were to your memory. I myself saw it. Armed men like and died in the in a manner no man understand. And the laughed and said: 'I am only Altaro, only an of Orastes, who is but an of him who the veil; not mine is the power; the power but through me.'

'Well,' said Conan harshly, 'is it not to die than to live in infamy? Is death than oppression, and destruction?'

'When the of is in, is out,' Servius. 'The of the is too great to allow them to for you. The would for you—but the same that your army at Valkia would you again. The Nemedians the broadest, and most of Aquilonia, and they cannot be by the which might still be at your command. You would be your uselessly. In I say it, but it is true: King Conan, you are a king without a kingdom.'

Conan into the fire without replying. A among the without a of sparks. It might have been the of his kingdom.

Again Conan the presence of a the of material illusion. He again the drive of a fate. A of panic at his soul, a of being trapped, and a red that to and kill.

'Where are the officials of my court?' he at last.

'Pallantides was at Valkia, was by his family, and now in his in Attalus. He will be if he again. Publius, the chancellor, has the in disguise, no man whither. The has been disbanded. Some were imprisoned, some banished. Many of your have been put to death. Tonight, for instance, the Countess Albiona dies under the headsman's ax.'

Conan started and at Servius with such anger in his that the back.

'Why?'

'Because she would not the of Valerius. Her lands are forfeit, her into slavery, and at midnight, in the Iron Tower, her must fall. Be advised, my king—to me you will be my king—and you are discovered. In these days none is safe. Spies and among us, the or word of as and rebellion. If you make to your it will only end in your and death.

'My and all the men that I can trust are at your disposal. Before we can be from Tarantia, and well on our way toward the border. If I cannot you to your kingdom, I can at least you into exile.'

Conan his head. Servius at him as he sat into the fire, his on his fist. The on his mail, on his eyes. They in the like the of a wolf. Servius was again aware, as in the past, and now more than ever, of something about the king. That great under the was too hard and for a man; the fire of the in those eyes. Now the about the king was more pronounced, as if in his the of were away, to the core. Conan was to his type. He did not act as a man would act under the same conditions, did his in the same channels. He was unpredictable. It was only a from the king of Aquilonia to the skin-clad of the Cimmerian hills.

'I'll to Poitain, if it may be,' Conan said at last. 'But I'll alone. And I have one last to perform as king of Aquilonia.'

'What do you mean, your Majesty?' asked Servius, by a premonition.

'I'm going into Tarantia after Albiona tonight,' answered the king. 'I've failed all my other subjects, it seems—if they take her head, they can have mine too.'

'This is madness!' Servius, up and his throat, as if he already the about it.

'There are to the Tower which know,' said Conan. 'Anyway, I'd be a dog to Albiona to die of her to me. I may be a king without a kingdom, but I'm not a man without honor.'

'It will us all!' Servius.

'It will no one but me if I fail. You've enough. I alone tonight. This is all I want you to do: me a for my eye, a staff for my hand, and such as travelers wear.'