And now, to seal Thoth-Amon's elevation to the throne, Ferdrugo was, with his own hands, placing the ancient crown of Zingara upon the Stygian's swarthy pate.
To do so, however, it was necessary for Thoth-Amon to doff the Cobra Crown. In this act, Duke Villagro saw his opportunity.
Moving with a swiftness that belied his years, the duke hurled aside his velvet chaperon and bounded up the steps of the dais. Since Thoth-Amon was not wearing the Cobra Crown, the wizard had no warning of his former ally's action until Villagro snatched up the Cobra Crown and clapped it upon his own head.
As the duke started forward, he heard a muffled, guttural exclamation, which he recognized as the voice of the nearby Menkara. With the Crown on his head, Villagro whirled, to see Menkara coming swiftly up behind him with a bared dagger in his bony fist.
As soon as the Cobra Crown settled upon his dyed and curled hair, Villagro was conscious of a host of sensations pouring through his mind. It seemed as if the unspoken thoughts of every person in the chamber rushed into his consciousness at once, in a buzzing, booming confusion. No magician, Villagro could not sort out these random thoughts.
As Menkara neared him, the duke in desperation focused his mind upon the priest, at whom he thrust out his fingers in what he conceived to be a wizardly gesture.
With all his might, he concentrated on the mental picture of Menkara falling over backward, as if knocked down by a mighty blow of the fist.
And Menkara's rush did, in fact, slow and halt at the bottom step of the dais.
As if struck, Menkara staggered back. His dagger tinkled to the pavement.
A leonine roar from behind him caused Villagro to whirl again. It came from Thoth-Amon, who had risen to his feet and turned about.
"Dog! For this you shall die!" shouted the Stygian, speaking Zingaran with a guttural accent.
"Die thyself!" replied Villagro, extending his fingers toward Thoth-Amon.
The mighty wizard was not to be easily overcome, even with the help of the Cobra Crown, because the wearer of that Crown was ignorant of and unpracticed in its use. For a straining, quivering instant, the two men faced each other in a deadlocked contest of wills. The power of Villagro over others' minds with the Crown roughly equaled the powers of Thoth-Amon, one of the greatest magicians of the age, without it. They strained and staggered, but neither yielded.
Below, the nobles and officials regarded the tableau with slack-jawed astonishment. There were many brave men among them, who would instantly have rallied to whichever side stood for the welfare of Zingara … but in these chaotic moments, who could tell which side that was? A king reduced to imbecility, a sinister foreign sorcerer, and a notoriously unscrupulous and conniving duke… who could say where lay the right?
Behind him, Villagro heard Menkara muttering a spell. He felt his own mental strength weakening. Before him Thoth-Amon seemed to grow in stature and might…
Then a sudden eruption of noise shook the room and brought all eyes about to stare at the source. A crowd of rough, ragged seamen boiled suddenly out of a portal on a balcony above the hall. At their head strode a bronzed giant with an unshorn mane of raven-black hair and burning eyes of volcanic blue under heavy black brows, with a huge cutlass clenched in one mighty fist.
Zarono uttered a shout of astonishment: "Conan! By all the gods and devils … here!"
Seeing the burly barbarian appear so suddenly, the sallow-faced buccaneer paled.
Then his lean, wolfish countenance grew grim, and his hard black eyes blazed with wrath. He slid his rapier from its sheath.
The interruption had also distracted Thoth-Amon, who turned his swarthy, golden-crowned head to stare. Had he worn the Cobra Crown, he would have known of the approach of Conan and his men before they appeared; but he had doffed the magical headpiece just before they came within its range.
After a glance at the intruders, Villagro returned his attention to Thoth-Amon.
The Stygian, he knew, was by far the more dangerous foe. If he could, by the unpracticed use of the Crown, vanquish Thoth-Amon, then Conan could easily be disposed of by the same means. But, if he turned his full attention on Conan, Thoth-Amon would wipe him out as easily as swatting an insect.
Conan strode to the head of the stair and wind-mil ed his arms for attention.
"Ho, lords of Zingara!" he boomed. "Vile treason and blackest magic have enmeshed your King in their toils!" One brawny arm shot out, pointing at the silent figure of the Stygian. "No prince of Stygia he, but Hell's most stinking spawn! A sorcerer from the unholy depths of Stygia, come to steal the ancient throne of Zingara from its royal house. No blacker villain than Thoth-Amon has ever soiled the earth! Your king's wits have been stolen by some wizardly trick, so that he knows not what he says; he but parrots the thoughts that this would-be usurper puts into his mind!''
The assemblage wavered, some persuaded by Conan's words and some not. One fat nobleman cried: "What madness is this? A wild-eyed rogue of a pirate, bursting into the palace during a sacred ceremony, waving his sword and shouting nonsense? Guards, arrest those rascallions!"
A babble arose, over which Conan roared: "Look at the king and see the truth of my words, you simpletons!"
Beside his throne, pale and shrunken, Ferdrugo wavered, plucking at his wispy white beard. "What … what is happening here, my lords?" he quavered. His bewildered gaze swept from face to face. Then he noticed the document in his hand. "What … what is this? Was I reading it?" he murmured. "It makes no sense …"
It was obvious that King Ferdrugo did not recognize the proclamation that he had just read. Thoth-Amon, distracted by his contest with Villagro and Conan's intrusion, had let slip his mental control of Ferdrugo's will. Now his attention was forcibly brought back to the duke.
When Thoth-Amon had turned toward Conan, Villagro had hurled his will, amplified a thousandfold by the Cobra Crown, at the looming form of the Stygian.
Thoth-Amon staggered under the impact, nearly fell, and clutched the arm of the throne to steady himself. The Zingaran crown —which, being too small for him, rode unsteadily on his swarthy scalp— fell from his head and struck the stone of the dais with a clang.
Then he rallied. With the whites of his eyes showing in a hypnotic glare, he in turn sent Villagro staggering with a mental blast.
"Give me the Cobra Crown, fool!" snarled Thoth-Amon.
"Never!" shrilled Villagro.
The duke felt an increase of the mental power opposing him. Behind him he felt, without seeing, the mind-force of Menkara added to that of Thoth-Amon. The priest of Set had rallied to the side of his master. Again Villagro felt himself weakening, his mental defenses crumbling.