The Phoenix on the Sword by Robert E. Howard

Author:Robert E. Howard
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781406572155
Publisher: Dodo Press
Published: 2008-02-15T17:06:36.929000+00:00

eyes cleared the wall and swept by him with a swirling rush of wind. But it was gone so swiftly that thebewildered warrior was left wondering whether it had been a dream or a hallucination.

IV

When the world was young and men were weak, and the fiends of the

I strove with Set by fire and steel and the juice of the upas-tree;

Alone in the great sleeping-chamber with its high golden dome King Conan slumbered and dreamed.Through swirling gray mists he heard a curious call, faint and far, and though he did not understand it, itseemed not within his power to ignore it. Sword in hand he went through the gray mist, as a man mightwalk through clouds, and the voice grew more distinct as he proceeded until he understood the word itspoke--it was his own name that was being called across the gulfs of Space or Time.

Now the mists grew lighter and he saw that he was in a great dark corridor that seemed to be cut insolid black stone. It was unlighted, but by some magic he could see plainly. The floor, ceiling and wallswere highly polished and gleamed dull, and they were carved with the figures of ancient heroes andhalf-forgotten gods. He shuddered to see the vast shadowy outlines of the Nameless Old Ones, and heknew somehow that mortal feet had not traversed the corridor for centuries.

He came upon a wide stair carved in the solid rock, and the sides of the shaft were adorned withesoteric symbols so ancient and horrific that King Conan's skin crawled. The steps were carven eachwith the abhorrent figure of the Old Serpent, Set, so that at each step he planted his heel on the head ofthe Snake, as it was intended from old times. But he was none the less at ease for all that.

But the voice called him on, and at last, in darkness that would have been impenetrable to his materialeyes, he came into a strange crypt, and saw a vague white-bearded figure sitting on a tomb. Conan's hairrose up and he grasped his sword, but the figure spoke in sepulchral tones.

"Oh man, do you know me?"

"Not I, by Crom!" swore the king.

"Man," said the ancient, "I am Epemitreus."

"But Epemitreus the Sage has been dead for fifteen hundred years!" stammered Conan.

"Harken!" spoke the other commandingly. "As a pebble cast into a dark lake sends ripples to the furthershores, happenings in the Unseen world have broken like waves on my slumber. I have marked you well,Conan of Cimmeria, and the stamp of mighty happenings and great deeds is upon you. But dooms areloose in the land, against which your sword can not aid you."

"You speak in riddles," said Conan uneasily. "Let me see my foe and I'll cleave his skull to the teeth."

"Loose your barbarian fury against your foes of flesh and blood," answered the ancient. "It is not againstmen I must shield you. There are dark worlds barely guessed by man, wherein formless monstersstalk--fiends which may be drawn from the Outer Voids to take material shape and rend and devour atthe bidding of evil magicians.

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