Kull: Exile of Atlantis Read Online Free Page B

Squadron smote us! Hai, there the spears drank and the swords were eased of thirst! We slew and they slew, but when the thunder of battle was stilled, four of us escaped from the field, and all of us sore wounded.”

     
    “Ascalante tells me,” pursued Kull, “that the walls about the Crystal City are ten times the height of a tall man; that the gleam of gold and silver would dazzle the eyes and the women who throng the streets or lean from their windows are robed in strange, smooth robes that rustle and sheen.”
    “Ascalante should know,” grimly said Gor-na, “since he was slave among them so long that he forgot his good Atlantean name and must forsooth abide by the Valusian name they gave him.”
    “He escaped,” commented Am-ra.
    “Aye, but for every slave that escapes the clutches of the Seven Empires, seven are rotting in dungeons and dying each day–for it was not meant for an Atlantean to bide as a slave.”
    “We have been enemies to the Seven Empires since the dawn of time,” mused Am-ra.
    “And will be until the world crashes,” said Gor-na with a savage satisfaction. “For Atlantis, thank Valka, is the foe of all men.”
    Am-ra rose, taking his spear and prepared to stand watch. The other two lay down on the sward and dropped to sleep. Of what did Gor-na dream? Battle perhaps, or the thunder of buffalo–or a girl of the caves. Kull–
    Through the mists of his sleep echoed faintly and far away the golden melody of the trumpets. Clouds of radiant glory floated over him; then a mighty vista opened before his dream self. A great concourse of people stretched away into the distance and a thunderous roar in a strange language went up from them. There was a minor note of steel clashing and great shadowy armies reined to the right and the left; the mist faded and a face stood out boldly, a face above which hovered a regal crown–a hawk-like face, dispassionate, immobile, with eyes like the grey of the cold sea. Now the people thundered again. “Hail the king! Hail the king! Kull the King! ”

     
    Kull awoke with a start–the moon glimmered on the distant mountain, the wind sighed through the tall grass. Gor-na slept beside him and Am-ra stood, a naked bronze statue against the stars. Kull’s eyes wandered to his scanty garment–a leopard’s hide twisted about his pantherish loins. A naked barbarian–Kull’s cold eyes glimmered. Kull the king! Again he slept.
    They arose in the morning and set out for the caves of the tribe. The sun was not yet high when the broad blue river met their gaze and the caverns of the tribe rose to view.
    “Look!” Am-ra cried out sharply. “They burn someone!”
    A heavy stake stood before the caves; thereon was a young girl bound. The people who stood about, hard-eyed, showed no sign of pity.

     
    “Ala,” said Gor-na, his face setting into unbending lines. “She married a Lemurian pirate–the wanton.”
    “Aye,” broke in a stony eyed old woman, “my own daughter–thus she brought shame on Atlantis–my daughter no longer! Her mate died–she was washed ashore when their ship was broken by the craft of Atlantis.”
    Kull eyed the girl compassionately. He couldn’t understand–why did these people, her own kin and blood, frown on her so, merely because she chose an enemy of her race? In all the eyes that were centered on her, Kull saw only one trace of sympathy. Am-ra’s strange blue eyes were sad and compassionate.
    What Kull’s own immobile face mirrored there is no knowing. But the eyes of the doomed girl rested on his. There was no fear in her fine eyes, but a deep and vibrant appeal. Kull’s gaze wandered to the fagots at her feet. Soon the priest, who now chanted a curse beside her, would stoop and light these with the torch which he now held in his left hand. Kull saw that she was bound to the stake with a heavy wooden chain–a peculiar thing which was typically Atlantean in its manufacture. He could not sever that chain, even if he reached