such a shriek from Valeria's reckless lips, Conan
forgot Olmec. He pushed past the prince and started down the stair.
Awakening instinct brought him about again, just as Olmec struck with
his great mallet-like fist. The blow, fierce and silent, was aimed at
the base of Conan's brain. But the Cimmerian wheeled in time to receive
the buffet on the side of his neck instead. The impact would have
snapped the vertebrae of a lesser man. As it was, Conan swayed backward,
but even as he reeled he dropped his sword, useless at such close
quarters, and grasped Olmec's extended arm, dragging the prince with him
as he fell. Headlong they went down the steps together, in a revolving
whirl of limbs and heads and bodies. And as they went Conan's iron
fingers found and locked in Olmec's bull-throat.

The barbarian's neck and shoulder felt numb from the sledge-like impact
of Olmec's huge fist, which had carried all the strength of the massive
forearm, thick triceps and great shoulder. But this did not affect his
ferocity to any appreciable extent. Like a bulldog he hung on grimly,
shaken and battered and beaten against the steps as they rolled, until
at last they struck an ivory panel-door at the bottom with such an
impact that they splintered it down its full length and crashed through
its ruins. But Olmec was already dead, for those iron fingers had
crushed out his life and broken his neck as they fell.

* * * * *

Conan rose, shaking the splinters from his great shoulder, blinking
blood and dust out of his eyes.

He was in the great throne room. There were fifteen people in that room
besides himself. The first person he saw was Valeria. A curious black
altar stood before the throne-dais. Ranged about it, seven black candles
in golden candlesticks sent up oozing spirals of thick green smoke,
disturbingly scented. These spirals united in a cloud near the ceiling,
forming a smoky arch above the altar. On that altar lay Valeria, stark
naked, her white flesh gleaming in shocking contrast to the glistening
ebon stone. She was not bound. She lay at full length, her arms
stretched out above her head to their fullest extent. At the head of the
altar knelt a young man, holding her wrists firmly. A young woman knelt
at the other end of the altar, grasping her ankles. Between them she
could neither rise nor move.

Eleven men and women of Tecuhltli knelt dumbly in a semicircle, watching
the scene with hot, lus