t the "castle" of Tecuhltli. Like
the rest of the city it contained four stories, or tiers of chambers,
with towers jutting up from the roof. Each tier was named; indeed, the
people of Xuchotl had a name for each chamber, hall and stair in the
city, as people of more normal cities designate streets and quarters. In
Tecuhltli the floors were named The Eagle's Tier, The Ape's Tier, The
Tiger's Tier and The Serpent's Tier, in the order as enumerated, The
Eagle's Tier being the highest, or fourth, floor.

"Who is Tascela?" asked Conan. "Olmec's wife?"

Techotl shuddered and glanced furtively about him before answering.

"No. She is--Tascela! She was the wife of Xotalanc--the woman Tecuhltli
stole, to start the feud."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Conan. "That woman is beautiful
and young. Are you trying to tell me that she was a wife fifty years
ago?"

"Aye! I swear it! She was a full-grown woman when the Tlazitlans
journeyed from Lake Zuad. It was because the king of Stygia desired her
for a concubine that Xotalanc and his brother rebelled and fled into the
wilderness. She is a witch, who possesses the secret of perpetual
youth."

"What's that?" asked Conan.

Techotl shuddered again.

"Ask me not! I dare not speak. It is too grisly, even for Xuchotl!"

And touching his finger to his lips, he glided from the chamber.

_4. Scent of Black Lotus_

Valeria unbuckled her sword-belt and laid it with the sheathed weapon on
the couch where she meant to sleep. She noted that the doors were
supplied with bolts, and asked where they led.

"Those lead into adjoining chambers," answered the woman, indicating the
doors on right and left. "That one"--pointing to a copper-bound door
opposite that which opened into the corridor--"leads to a corridor which
runs to a stair that descends into the catacombs. Do not fear; naught
can harm you here."

"Who spoke of fear?" snapped Valeria. "I just like to know what sort of
harbor I'm dropping anchor in. No, I don't want you to sleep at the foot
of my couch. I'm not accustomed to being waited on--not by women,
anyway. You have my leave to go."

Alone in the room, the pirate shot the bolts on all the doors, kicked
off her boots and stretched luxuriously out on the couch. She imagined
Conan similarly situated across the corridor, but her feminine vanity
prompted her to visualize him as scowling and muttering with chagrin as
he cast himself on his solitary couch, and