Conan The Indomitable (12 page)

The bat named Red flitted down to stand before the Harskeel. “Your
boat,” he said.

The Harskeel observed the ancient planking. “You call these things a
boat?”

The bat shrugged. “You said it need merely float.”

“It must also hold my weight and that of my men.”

“If it does not, no matter.
We shall fly above
and support the difference as we tow the thing.”

The Harskeel considered that. In point of fact, it had little choice, were
it to continue its pursuit of Conan and his companions. With the bats towing
the “boat,” surely they would make good speed. “Very well,”
the Harskeel said. “Let us assemble it and make ready to depart.”

Red smiled, showing his needle-pointed teeth. “We would fly much faster
were we not so hungry.”

The Harskeel grinned. So, the creatures were not quite as trusting as he had
at first thought. Ah, well. No matter. “Have you a container?”

“As it happens, there is a depression in the rock, just over
there.” Red pointed with a wing tip. “The cleft at the bottom of the
declivity should hold about a barrel’s worth of liquid, if I am any judge of
such things.”

“When it comes to liquid, I bow to your expertise,” the Harskeel
said. “Come, then, and allow me to offer you some nourishment.”

The bats flocked around the Harskeel as it filled a hole in the rock with
blood. After they had finished drinking, all of the bats agreed that it was
quite the best-quality meal they had ever had. Promises from the witch and
wizard meant nothing compared to this, they said. They were the Harskeel’s
friends forever!

“Tell me more about this witch and wizard,” the Harskeel said.

Gladly, the bats replied.
Anything for such a fine friend.
Anything at all.

The passage in which the three steered the slowly sinking fish narrowed,
although Conan could see that it widened considerably up ahead. A few moments
later, they attained the wider passage. Almost immediately Conan knew that
something was wrong. He glanced around and saw the cause of his worry. Behind
them was the mouth of the narrow pass through which they had just emerged. Next
to it was a similar opening. Conan stopped his paddling.

“What is it?” Tull asked.

“Observe,” Conan said, pointing with the paddle.

Tull and Elashi turned to look behind them.

“Uh-oh,” Tull said.

“What is the matter?” Elashi asked. “I see nothing but two
large holes in a wall. Is there some pursuit?”

Conan said, “Do you not recognize this place? You were set on entering
one over the other not so long ago.”

Elashi shook her head. “What
are
you babbling about?”

The big Cimmerian nodded at the twin passages behind them. “We have
made a loop,” he said. “Yesterday we entered that passage on the
left. Now we have returned to the same spot. If there is any pursuit, likely it
will come from the direction in which we now travel.”

“Oh!” Elashi said. “Oh, dread.”

Dread indeed, Conan thought. It seemed that there would be no way out of the
underground via this waterway.

“What are we to do now?” Elashi asked.

“I think it best we beach this stinking fish corpse and resume our
travels on foot,” Conan answered. “As I recall, there were a series
of small openings on the wall only an hour or so ahead.”

Tull said, “Aye, right, lad. Our boat should get us that far.”

“The faster, the better,” Conan said.

Both men dug their makeshift paddles into the water deeply. The sodden fish
moved slowly, but move it did.

Wikkell and Deek paused to dine upon several carefully selected fungi and to
rest from their labors at the scull oar. While neither creature was bothered by
toadstools that would fatally fell a man, each had his own preference as to
flavor, and so each searched for the particular variety of cave-growing fungus
that suited him best. They were fortunate in finding their favorites in short
order.

“I would say we made excellent time thus far today,” Wikkell said
around a mouthful of putrid yellow mushroom.

Deek, now firmly upon solid rock, scraped his reply.
“I-indeed.
A p-p-pleasant w-way to t-t-travel.”

Wikkell nodded.
“Aye.
And I was thinking that
the plants might well be able to produce other items that we might find useful.
Clothing, perhaps; or they might even be persuaded to manufacture
furniture.”

“T-that s-s-same th-th-thought had c-crossed m-my m-mind.” Since
it was not necessary for Deek to utilize his mouth for speech, he continued to
eat all the while he said this.

“Of course we would eventually run out of bats and Whites to trade, but
I for one cannot say I would be greatly aggrieved if that should come to
pass.”

“N-n-nor w-w-would I.”

Wikkell swallowed a mouthful of his meal. “By that time, we could have
the caves looking very fine indeed.” He started to take yet another bite
of the mushroom but paused, suddenly remembering. “The wizard would never
allow it,” he said, his voice sad.

Deek paused in his own mastication.
“T-t-too r-right.
N-n-neither w-would the w-w-witch.”

Wikkell’s appetite was gone of a moment. He tossed the mushroom aside and
brushed the crumbs of it from his lips. “I do not recall it personally, of
course, but I am told that the caves were a much happier place before the
coming of the wizard and the witch.”

“S-s-so I t-too h-have h-h-heard.
A p-p-pity.”

Wikkell stood and rubbed his hands together to warm them. “Well,
there’s nothing to be done for it, is there? To raise a hand against Katamay
Rey would result in instant liquidity and putrification.”

“C-c-chuntha p-prefers the l-l-lime pits.”

Both Wikkell and Deek gave out with their versions of a shudder.

“Best we depart, Deek old slug. The sooner we get this business behind
us, the better.”

“A-a-aye, O-one-Eye.
O-one m-m-must d-deal
w-with r-r-reality.”

“Unfortunately.
Come. I shall assist you into
our boat.”

“Y-y-you are t-too k-k-kind.”

After Deek was aboard, Wikkell shoved the lightweight craft into the water
and hopped inside. As soon as the oar cleared the shore, he began bending it
back and forth in the powerful scull he had gotten better at as they had
traveled. Perhaps there was some way he and Deek could both come out of this
adventure with their skins whole. There were, after all, at least three humans,
and from the debacle he had witnessed in the bat cave, likely a few more loose
ones running about. Were Wikkell to return with several of them for Rey’s
pleasure, who was to know if Deek also captured a few for the witch?

According to the oral history of the caves, there had been a time hundreds
of seasons past when the
cyclopes
and the worms had
gotten along together rather well, living in harmony and bothering no one. The
plants had feasted upon the much stupider Whites and bats, and life had been an
altogether better proposition than it was under the rule of either witch or
wizard. Wikkell could see how it might have been so: this Deek was a pleasant
enough sort, much better company than a haughty bat or a jibbering moron of a
White, and certainly much, much nicer than the human wizard, with his noxious
spells and offhand death-dealing. At the very least, Deek considered the
cyclopes
thinking beings, even if enemies, something Rey
could not bring himself to believe. Perhaps there was some way to avoid
braining the great worm with a rock after all. Wikkell would think about it and
gently broach the subject when it might be appropriate.

All of which was moot, of course, did they not catch the humans, and soon.

Wikkell bent to his oar, thinking of the unpleasant alternative to losing
their prey.

Offhand, the Harskeel could not recall ever having traveled or even having
heard of anyone who had traveled in such a ridiculous manner. It and its men
sat perched upon the damp planks of their “boat,” which was being
hauled rapidly along an underground waterway by no less than forty
blood-drinking bats.
Would that he could see such an
assemblage passing by from the shore.
Surely it must be a sight to
behold from that angle.

There was nothing funny, however, in being in competition with both a
powerful wizard and an equally powerful witch for the bounty they all sought.
The Harskeel had a healthy respect for magic, garnered the hard way, and its
only hope was to obtain the prize first and be gone before a bigger dog arrived
to take it. The bats, expansive with blood-bloated bellies, had told him all
about the wizard and the witch and their enthralled agents, the
cyclopes
and the giant worms. This proposition grew trickier
by the moment.

Still, the Harskeel considered, it was itself not without resources. Aside
from its remaining men—not the most adept of warriors, but who would fight well
to protect their hides—the Harskeel also had a few small spells of its own.
Granted, it was no adept at magic, either, but with the element of surprise on
its side, a minor conjure at the right time might well turn the contest in its
favor. A blinding light here or a thick fog there could alter the course of a
battle. There were five barrels of blood left in the spell he had promised the
bats. Said creatures would scarcely appreciate wasting such a delectable treat
by having it pour down upon an enemy, but the Harskeel hardly considered the
wants of the bats germane to its own plans. One did what one had to do to win,
and demons devour the losers.

The makeshift craft skimmed over the water, throwing up a fine spray, such
was the thing’s bat-augmented speed. As long as they had to deal with only a
single worm and one hunchbacked cyclops, it could be managed. Could they but
stay ahead of the witch and the wizard, the game was still within the
Harskeel’s reach. At this speed, it did not see how it could lose.

Once again Rey’s temper flared hotter. This was all very amusing, to go
forth seeking sport, but he had come to the edge of the
Sunless
Sea
without sighting either his
prey or his cyclops. Perhaps Wikkell was dead after all, and if so, just as
well, for failure was something Rey could not abide. There were a hundred other
cyclopes
who could replace Wikkell, though the fool
had once shown promise.

Never mind that, Rey thought. By the process of elimination, the man he
sought must be somewhere farther along. He must have obtained a boat of some
kind. No matter. He would not escape that easily.

Rey called for his chest of spells. The cyclops bearer shambled forth and
deposited the case upon the rock. The beast clunked the load down somewhat
heavily.

“Careful, fool!
Should you break the wrong
item, this entire cave could disappear into limbo!”

A lie, of course, but Rey enjoyed the instant look of fear that appeared on
the face of the cyclops.

Rey dug around in the case until he found
The Book of Structural Theurgy
.
He caused a small flame to burn at the tip of his right thumb so that he might
better view the text. He leafed through the pages.
Temples
,
Castles—no, that was too far, back up—Buildings, Bridges. Ah, there it was. Now
if his memory served, there should be a spell here…

Set’s Scales! Where was it? He knew he had used the spell before; it was
like a bridge at the shore that appeared in the direction one traveled and
disappeared behind. It had to be here some where…
wait
,
it came to him, he should look under “Dock.”

Yes. There it was.

Rey mumbled the proper phrases, made the appropriate gesturology, and waited
expectantly. A heartbeat later the dock blinked into existence, as solid as
could be.

The wizard smiled at the sudden drone of the Cyclopes. That is correct,
morons. I am Katamay Rey, your master, and best you never forget it.

Magic concluded, Rey returned to his sedan and waved one indolent hand
toward the dock. “Forward,” he said.

His carriers obeyed. Before they reached the end of the magical dock,
another section popped into view, extending the dock that much farther into the
water. As the party neared the end of that section, yet another appeared, while
behind them, the dock next to the shore winked out as if it had never been. The
wizard could have caused it to remain, of course, but the cost would have been
high. Conservation of magical energy was necessary were one to avoid
overextending one’s self.

The pace was stately rather than rapid, but Rey did not worry over this. He
knew that the
Sunless
Sea
ended some distance ahead in a loop, so sooner or later, anything that traveled
that way upon the waters would return in this direction.

It was only a matter of time.

Chuntha’s travels led her to a different fjord of the
Sunless
Sea
than that of her rival’s. This
had been her intent, and she planned to remain behind that bastard of a wizard
and out of sight until they came upon the man they both sought. She could not
see the wizard ahead, but her scout had returned with news of his position, and
he was right where she wanted him. With surprise on her side, she would take
care of him once and for all.

The immediate problem was how to navigate the waterway, but a clever witch
was never stymied by such trifles.

“All of
you,
assemble over here,” she
commanded the worms.
“Side by side, in rows,
thusly.”
She gestured, to show the worms the proper ranks.

The creatures came and did as they had been bidden. Eight worms across and
three lengthwise they lay, pressed together into a large mat.