Shadows in the Moonlight

SHADOWS IN THE MOONLIGHT

                      By Robert E. Howard

    [Transcriber's Note: This etext was first published in Weird Tales
    April 1934. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the
    U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]




1


A swift crashing of horses through the tall reeds; a heavy fall, a
despairing cry. From the dying steed there staggered up its rider, a
slender girl in sandals and girdled tunic. Her dark hair fell over her
white shoulders, her eyes were those of a trapped animal. She did not
look at the jungle of reeds that hemmed in the little clearing, nor at
the blue waters that lapped the low shore behind her. Her wide-eyed gaze
was fixed in agonized intensity on the horseman who pushed through the
reedy screen and dismounted before her.

He was a tall man, slender, but hard as steel. From head to heel he was
clad in light silvered mesh-mail that fitted his supple form like a
glove. From under the dome-shaped, gold-chased helmet his brown eyes
regarded her mockingly.

'Stand back!' her voice shrilled with terror. 'Touch me not, Shah
Amurath, or I will throw myself into the water and drown!'

He laughed, and his laughter was like the purr of a sword sliding from a
silken sheath.

'No, you will not drown, Olivia, daughter of confusion, for the marge is
too shallow, and I can catch you before you can reach the deeps. You
gave me a merry chase, by the gods, and all my men are far behind us.
But there is no horse west of Vilayet that can distance Irem for long.'
He nodded at the tall, slender-legged desert stallion behind him.

'Let me go!' begged the girl, tears of despair staining her face. 'Have
I not suffered enough? Is there any humiliation, pain or degradation you
have not heaped on me? How long must my torment last?'

'As long as I find pleasure in your whimperings, your pleas, tears and
writhings,' he answered with a smile that would have seemed gentle to a
stranger. 'You are strangely virile, Olivia. I wonder if I shall ever
weary of you, as I have always wearied of women before. You are ever
fresh and unsullied, in spite of me. Each new day with you brings a new
delight.

'But come--let us return to Akif, where the people are still feting the
conqueror of the miserable _kozaki_; while he, the conqueror, is engaged
in recapturing a wretched fugitive, a foolish, lovely, idiotic runaway!'

'No!' She recoiled, turning toward the waters lapping bluely among the
reeds.

'Yes!' His flash of open anger was like a spark struck from flint. With
a quickness her tender limbs could not approximate, he caught her wrist,
twisting it in pure wanton cruelty until she screamed and sank to her
knees.

'Slut! I should drag you back to Akif at my horse's tail, but I will be
merciful and carry you on my saddle-bow, for which favor you shall
humbly thank me, while--'

He released her with a startled oath and sprang back, his saber flashing
out, as a terrible apparition burst from the reedy jungle sounding an
inarticulate cry of hate.

Olivia, staring up from the ground, saw what she took to be either a
savage or a madman advancing on Shah Amurath in an attitude of deadly
menace. He was powerfully built, naked but for a girdled loincloth,
which was stained with blood and crusted with dried mire. His black mane
was matted with mud and clotted blood; there were streaks of dried blood
on his chest and limbs, dried blood on the long straight sword he
gripped in his right hand. From under the tangle of his locks, bloodshot
eyes glared like coals of blue fire.

'You Hyrkanian dog!' mouthed this apparition in a barbarous accent. 'The
devils of vengeance have brought you here!'

'_Kozak!_' ejaculated Shah Amurath, recoiling. 'I did not know a dog of
you escaped! I thought you all lay stiff on the steppe, by Ilbars
River.'

'All but me, damn you!' cried the other. 'Oh, I've dreamed of such a
meeting as this, while I crawled on my belly through the brambles, or
lay under rocks while the ants gnawed my flesh, or crouched in the mire
up to my mouth--I dreamed, but never hoped it would come to pass. Oh,
gods of Hell, how I have yearned for this!'

The stranger's bloodthirsty joy was terrible to behold. His jaws champed
spasmodically, froth appeared on his blackened lips.

'Keep back!' ordered Shah Amurath, watching him narrowly.

'Ha!' It was like the bark of a timber wolf. 'Shah Amurath, the great
Lord of Akif! Oh, damn you, how I love the sight of you--you, who fed my
comrades to the vultures, who tore them between wild horses, blinded and
maimed and mutilated them--_ai_, you dog, you filthy dog!' His voice
rose to a maddened scream, and he charged.

In spite of the terror of his wild appearance, Olivia looked to see him
fall at the first crossing of the blades. Madman or savage, what could
he do, naked, against the mailed chief of Akif?

There was an instant when the blades flamed and licked, seeming barely
to touch each other and leap apart; then the broadsword flashed past the
saber and descended terrifically on Shah Amurath's shoulder.