'A forgery!' exclaimed Amalric.
Xaltotun shook his head.
'It is genuine. I have compared it with the signature on the royal
documents on record in the libraries of the court. None could imitate
that bold scrawl.'
'Then if Conan lives,' muttered Amalric, 'this uprising will not be like
the others, for he is the only man living who can unite the Aquilonians.
But,' he protested, 'this is not like Conan. Why should he put us on our
guard with his boasting? One would think that he would strike without
warning, after the fashion of the barbarians.'
'We are already warned,' pointed out Xaltotun. 'Our spies have told us
of preparations for war in Poitain. He could not cross the mountains
without our knowledge; so he sends me his defiance in characteristic
manner.'
'Why to you?' demanded Valerius. 'Why not to me, or to Tarascus?'
Xaltotun turned his inscrutable gaze upon the king.
'Conan is wiser than you,' he said at last. 'He already knows what you
kings have yet to learn--that it is not Tarascus, nor Valerius, no, nor
Amalric, but Xaltotun who is the real master of the western nations.'
They did not reply; they sat staring at him, assailed by a numbing
realization of the truth of his assertion.
'There is no road for me but the imperial highway,' said Xaltotun. 'But
first we must crush Conan. I do not know how he escaped me at Belverus,
for knowledge of what happened while I lay in the slumber of the black
lotus is denied me. But he is in the south, gathering an army. It is his
last, desperate blow, made possible only by the desperation of the
people who have suffered under Valerius. Let them rise; I hold them all
in the palm of my hand. We will wait until he moves against us, and then
we will crush him once and for all.
'Then we shall crush Poitain and Gunderland and the stupid Bossonians.
After them Ophir, Argos, Zingara, Koth--all the nations of the world we
shall weld into one vast empire. You shall rule as my satraps, and as my
captains shall be greater than kings are now. I am unconquerable, for
the Heart of Ahriman is hidden where no man can ever wield it against me
again.'
Tarascus averted his gaze, lest Xaltotun read his thoughts. He knew the
wizard had not looked into the golden chest with its carven serpents
that had seemed to sleep, since he laid the Heart therein. Strange as it
seemed, Xaltotun did not know that the heart had been stolen; the
strange jewel was beyond or outside the ring of his dark wisdom; his
uncanny talents did not warn him that the chest was empty. Tarascus did
not believe that Xaltotun knew the full extent of Orastes' revelations,
for the Pythonian had not mentioned the restoration of Acheron, but only
the building of a new, earthly empire. Tarascus did not believe that
Xaltotun was yet quite sure of his power; if they needed his aid in
their ambitions, no less he needed theirs. Magic depended, to a certain
extent after all, on sword strokes and lance thrusts. The king read
meaning in Amalric's furtive glance; let the wizard use his arts to help
them defeat their most dangerous enemy. Time enough then to turn against
him. There might yet be a way to cheat this dark power they had raised.
21