A Barbarian from the Hills

Chunder Shan, governor of Peshkhauri, laid down his golden pen and carefully scanned that which he had written on parchment that bore his official seal. He had ruled Peshkhauri so long only because he weighed his every word, spoken or written. Danger breeds caution, and only a wary man lives long in that wild country where the hot Vendhyan plains meet the crags of the Himelians. An hour’s ride westward or northward and one crossed the border and was among the Hills where men lived by the law of the knife.

The governor was alone in his chamber, seated at his ornately carven table of inlaid ebony. Through the wide window, open for the coolness, he could see a square of the blue Himelian night, dotted with great white stars. An adjacent parapet was a shadowy line, and further crenelles and embrasures were barely hinted at in the dim starlight. The governor’s fortress was strong, and situated outside the walls of the city it guarded. The breeze that stirred the tapestries on the wall brought faint noises from the streets of Peshkhauri--occasional snatches of wailing song, or the thrum of a cithern.

The governor read what he had written, slowly, with his open hand shading his eyes from the bronze butterlamp, his lips moving. Absently, as he read, he heard the drum of horses’ hoofs outside the barbican, the sharp staccato of the guards’ challenge. He did not heed, intent upon his letter. It was addressed to the wazam of Vendhya, at the royal court of Ayodhya, and it stated, after the customary salutations:

‘Let it be known to your excellency that I have faithfully carried

out your excellency’s instructions. The seven tribesmen are well

guarded in their prison, and I have repeatedly sent word into the

hills that their chief come in person to bargain for their release.

But he has made no move, except to send word that unless they are

freed he will burn Peshkhauri and cover his saddle with my hide,

begging your excellency’s indulgence. This he is quite capable of

attempting, and I have tripled the numbers of the lance guards. The

man is not a native of Ghulistan. I cannot with certainty predict

his next move. But since it is the wish of the Devi--’

He was out of his ivory chair and on his feet facing the arched door, all in one instant. He snatched at the curved sword lying in its ornate scabbard on the table, and then checked the movement.

It was a woman who had entered unannounced, a woman whose gossamer robes did not conceal the rich garments beneath them any more than they concealed the suppleness and beauty of her tall, slender figure. A filmy veil fell below her breasts, supported by a flowing headdress bound about with a triple gold braid and adorned with a golden crescent. Her dark eyes regarded the astonished governor over the veil, and then with an imperious gesture of her white hand, she uncovered her face.

‘Devi!’ The governor dropped to his knees before her, surprize and confusion somewhat spoiling the stateliness of his obeisance. With a gesture she motioned him to rise, and he hastened to lead her to the ivory chair, all the while bowing level with his girdle. But his first words were of reproof.

‘Your Majesty! This was most unwise! The border is unsettled. Raids from the hills are incessant. You came with a large attendance?’

‘An ample retinue followed me to Peshkhauri, ‘ she answered. ‘I lodged my people there and came on to the fort with my maid, Gitara.’

Chunder Shan groaned in horror.

‘Devi! You do not understand the peril. An hour’s ride from this spot the hills swarm with barbarians who make a profession of murder and rapine. Women have been stolen and men stabbed between the fort and the city. Peshkhauri is not like your southern provinces--’

‘But I am here, and unharmed, ‘ she interrupted with a trace of impatience. ‘I showed my signet ring to the guard at the gate, and to the one outside your door, and they admitted me unannounced, not knowing me, but supposing me to be a secret courier from Ayodhya. Let us not now waste time.

‘You have received no word from the chief of the barbarians?’

‘None save threats and curses, Devi. He is wary and suspicious. He deems it a trap, and perhaps he is not to be blamed. The Kshatriyas have not always kept their promises to the hill people.’

‘He must be brought to terms!’ broke in Yasmina, the knuckles of her clenched hands showing white.

‘I do not understand.’ The governor shook his head. ‘When I chanced to capture these seven hill-men, I reported their capture to the wazam, as is the custom, and then, before I could hang them, there came an order to hold them and communicate with their chief. This I did, but the man holds aloof, as I have said. These men are of the tribe of Afghulis, but he is a foreigner from the west, and he is called Conan. I have threatened to hang them tomorrow at dawn, if he does not come.’

‘Good!’ exclaimed the Devi. ‘You have done well. And I will tell you why I have given these orders. My brother--’ she faltered, choking, and the governor bowed his head, with the customary gesture of respect for a departed sovereign.

‘The king of Vendhya was destroyed by magic, ‘ she said at last. ‘I have devoted my life to the destruction of his murderers. As he died he gave me a clue, and I have followed it. I have read the Book of Skelos, and talked with nameless hermits in the caves below Jhelai. I learned how, and by whom, he was destroyed. His enemies were the Black Seers of Mount Yimsha.’

‘Asura!’ whispered Chunder Shan, paling.

Her eyes knifed him through. ‘Do you fear them?’

‘Who does not, Your Majesty?’ he replied. ‘They are black devils, haunting the uninhabited hills beyond the Zhaibar. But the sages say that they seldom interfere in the lives of mortal men.’

‘Why they slew my brother I do not know, ‘ she answered. ‘But I have sworn on the altar of Asura to destroy them! And I need the aid of a man beyond the border. A Kshatriya army, unaided, would never reach Yimsha.’

‘Aye, ‘ muttered Chunder Shan. ‘You speak the truth there. It would be fight every step of the way, with hairy hill-men hurling down boulders from every height, and rushing us with their long knives in every valley. The Turanians fought their way through the Himelians once, but how many returned to Khurusun? Few of those who escaped the swords of the Kshatriyas, after the king, your brother, defeated their host on the Jhumda River, ever saw Secunderam again.’

‘And so I must control men across the border, ‘ she said, ‘men who know the way to Mount Yimsha--’

‘But the tribes fear the Black Seers and shun the unholy mountain, ‘ broke in the governor.

‘Does the chief, Conan, fear them?’ she asked.

‘Well, as to that, ‘ muttered the governor, ‘I doubt if there is anything that devil fears.’

‘So I have been told. Therefore he is the man I must deal with. He wishes the release of his seven men. Very well; their ransom shall be the heads of the Black Seers!’ Her voice thrummed with hate as she uttered the last words, and her hands clenched at her sides. She looked an image of incarnate passion as she stood there with her head thrown high and her bosom heaving.

Again the governor knelt, for part of his wisdom was the knowledge that a woman in such an emotional tempest is as perilous as a blind cobra to any about her.

‘It shall be as you wish, Your Majesty.’ Then as she presented a calmer aspect, he rose and ventured to drop a word of warning. ‘I can not predict what the chief Conan’s action will be. The tribesmen are always turbulent, and I have reason to believe that emissaries from the Turanians are stirring them up to raid our borders. As your majesty knows, the Turanians have established themselves in Secunderam and other northern cities, though the hill tribes remain unconquered. King Yezdigerd has long looked southward with greedy lust and perhaps is seeking to gain by treachery what he could not win by force of arms. I have thought that Conan might well be one of his spies.’

‘We shall see, ‘ she answered. ‘If he loves his followers, he will be at the gates at dawn, to parley. I shall spend the night in the fortress. I came in disguise to Peshkhauri, and lodged my retinue at an inn instead of the palace. Besides my people, only yourself knows of my presence here.’