Before Cobra, snarling with outrage, could reply, the harsh sounds of scraping rocks filled the room. Four huge stones were receding from the wall; four temple guards appeared in the openings pointing loaded crossbows at the Queen of Serpents.
Cobra whirled on Dang-Ling. “You go too far, priest!”
Dang-Ling said soothingly, “Do not be offended. I have not betrayed you. These four are devoted servants of the Master of Darkness, and will do you no harm unless it is necessary. So do not tempt them. Being Kitzakks, they are unusually fond of killing reptiles.”
“They would not dare. I am the Master’s ‘chosen one’.”
“They will dare, sorceress, whatever I dare. Because they understand that what I do, I do in our holy Master’s best interest. Now, I must ask you to remember what you have forgotten in your jealousy. If the girl’s nature is altered, if she is tainted in the slightest way, the power of the horned helmet will discover it… and the Death Dealer will destroy her before she is even close enough for him to smell the enticing fragrance of her flesh.”
The bones in the Queen of Serpent’s face seemed to pulsate under her creamy flesh.
The high priest delicately removed the glass tube from Robin’s throat. A drop of blood splashed on her breast and trickled down the curved slope. He wiped it off fastidiously, saying, “It is only in her perfection that she will be able to subdue the helmet’s power and distract him long enough for these maidens, transformed by your formula, to strike.”
Cobra’s body vibrated under the gold and silver plates, and began to shimmer with opalescent light, fusing her voluptuous flesh and translucent metal. Her breasts were smooth heaving globes of soft gold, her stomach a silver slope of carnal invitation. Her pupils were pools of black magnetism rimmed by irises of radiating gold. The rose cheeks drew in and hollowed. As her scarlet lips parted, they revealed a single drop of glistening blood trickling freely down her alabaster chin.
The temple guards trembled, eyes white with terror.
Dang-Ling observed all this with surprising equanimity, then, bowing to the Queen of Serpents, he responded, “Thank you for this spectacular display of the generous and unequaled gifts our Master of Darkness has bestowed upon you. It is an eloquent reminder of the sacrifices we all owe him.”
He fastidiously removed the rose-pink snake from her arm and stroked it. “Now, if you will restore your appearance so my aides can function, we will begin the work.”
Cobra’s magnificent body wavered. Then, like a tide receding into the ocean, her body drew into itself, ebbing and flowing back to a less intimidating though still impressive presence that glared impotently at the high priest, as if she had had her fangs pulled.
The guards carried Robin out of the laboratory as the maidens were revived. Then Dang-Ling himself applied the enslaving snakebite to each girl’s foot, and the screaming began.
The process proceeded at a slow dripping pace for several hours. Then, distressingly, a blood clot formed in the neck of one girl. Before they could remove the tube, her skin ballooned and exploded, splattering the room with flesh and blood, and she was dead. After that there were no more delays.
Sixty
The wagon, racing across the flat desert, sent up a tail of dust that boiled with bright golds and yellows in the midday sunshine. Half a mile behind and barely visible through the dust, a crowd of mounted soldiers chased it. Far off to the right, miragelike in the wavering heat, was a thin crescent of reds, the Kitzakk Army. Ahead were the ruins of Chela Kong.
A Cytherian temple maiden drove. Three others sprawled on the bed, clutching the side boards desperately as the wagon bounced and rattled. Robin, still unconscious, tumbled about on a layer of hay between them. A large stack of hay was piled in a corner.
One of the girls, a small, chubby old friend of Robin, crawled over to her. She uncorked a tiny blue jar, and, pressing it against Robin’s teeth, poured a clear amber liquid into her mouth. She threw the jar away, then waited anxiously. Robin coughed and sat up abruptly. Her eyes were wide but her body, still weak, was trembling.
“Where am I?”
“We’ve escaped!” As she spoke, she pounded small fists together excitedly. “Robin, we’ve escaped!”
“Escaped!” Robin gasped. She rolled onto her hands and knees and through the tumbling dust saw the riders chasing them. She pivoted to the front. A dark collection of black boulders lay ahead.
The chubby girl pointed a plump finger at the rocks shouting, “Our people are there! There in the rocks!”
Robin gasped incredulously, “But how… how did we…”
The girl hugged her as her words spilled out. “They were taking us somewhere. They didn’t tell us why. They thought we were all drugged, like you were. But two of us woke up, and when the soldiers guarding us fell behind, that gave us our chance. We killed the driver and ran.” She uncovered the stack of hay revealing the large body of a man crumpled under it. His neck was slit.
Robin recoiled in horror.
“We used his own knife.” The girl picked a knife out of the hay. It was wet and red.
Robin, still wobbly, turned to the other girls. They nodded happily. The chubby girl, pressing close to Robin, placed her lips next to her ear. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it. The Death Dealer will save us.”
Realization, then hope, nourished Robin’s shaken body. She smiled tentatively, and the girl, staying close, said, “It’s true! He’s in those rocks.”
She pointed ahead at Chela Kong. Robin, fighting for balance, shuffled to the front of the wagon, and stood there holding onto the driver’s shoulders. The wind whipped her hair like a red-gold flag. Feeling the pressure of Robin’s hands, the girl’s lips parted slightly, enough to expose the tips of her tiny fangs.
A raven-haired girl at the rear of the wagon took hold of an iron bar hidden under the hay, and fed it out a hole in the side board. She gathered her weight behind it, and shoved hard.
The iron bar plunged between the spokes of the rear wheel. Spokes snapped with rapid cracks, and the wheel caved in. The wagon banged on the ground and spun, girls screaming and floundering. The horses reared and halted, throwing the driver back into the wagon bed among the other girls. The living pile thrashed about hysterically as its pursuers descended fast.
Terrified, Robin fought free and looked ahead at the dark rocks. A startled joy shone on her tear-stained face.
A horse and rider were charging down Chela Kong toward them. The rider was big and powerful, and wore a horned helmet.
Robin and the girls tumbled out of the crippled wagon, and raced toward him.
The Skulls thundered up to the wagon, and, finding it empty, plunged after the girls. But, when it was clear that the Barbarian would reach them first, they slowed down and held their distance, watching the girls scatter toward the Death Dealer.
He reined up and dropped to the ground lightly, strode toward Robin. Robin, her face glowing, stumbled and raced ahead of the other girls. Undaunted, as if she were unaware of the dark massive figure of brutal destruction which was the Death Dealer, and could see only Gath. She leapt into his arms. His pawlike hands clasped her like a small soft ball and held her against his chest.
A wagon load of jubilant Grillards arrived with Bone driving and Brown John sitting beside him. Dirken and ten Grillard strongmen were crowded in the bed. They scrambled out as Brown John hollered joyously, “My dear child, you’ll never know… there are simply no words…” He was laughing before he finished.
The maidens hesitated five feet short of their target, realizing it was covered with metal except for its arms and lower legs.
Robin lifted her head off Gath’s shoulder, and gazed into his eyes. “I’m all right,” she whispered. “It’s all right now.”
A glint of light showed behind his eyes, a gentle warmth. She smiled and slid to the ground, still within his embrace. Turning to the maidens, she beckoned them forward. “Come on. Don’t be afraid.”