Thus,” said Tu, chief councillor, “did Lala-ah, countess of Fanara, flee with her lover, Felgar, Farsunian adventurer, bringing shame to her husband-to-be and to the nation of Valusia.”
Kull, fist supporting chin, nodded. He had listened with scant interest to the tale of how the young countess of Fanara had left a Valusian nobleman waiting on the steps of Merama’s and had eloped with a man of her own choice.
“Yes,” he impatiently interrupted Tu, “I understand. But what have the amorous adventures of a giddy girl to do with me? I blame her not for forsaking Kayanna–by Valka, he is as ugly as a rhinoceros and has a more abominable disposition. Then why tell me this tale?”
“You do not understand, Kull,” said Tu with the patience one must accord a barbarian who happens to be a king, besides. “The customs of the nation are not your customs. Lala-ah, by deserting Ka-yanna at the very foot of the altar where their nuptials were to be consummated, committed a very gross offense to the traditions of the land–and an insult to the nation is an insult to the king, Kull. For this alone she must be brought back and punished.
“Then, she is a countess, and it is a Valusian tradition that noble women marry foreigners only with the consent of the Valusian state–here consent was never given nor even asked. Valusia will become the scorn of all nations if we allow men from other lands to take our women with impunity.”
“Name of Valka,” grumbled Kull. “Here is a great to-do–custom and tradition! I have heard little else since I first pressed the throne of Valusia–in my land women mate with whom they will and with whom they choose.”
“Aye, Kull.” Thus Tu, soothingly. “But this is Valusia–not Atlantis. There all men, aye, and all women are free and unhindered but civilization is a network and a maze of precedences and custom. And another thing in regard to the young countess–she has a strain of royal blood.”
“This man rode with Ka-yanna’s horsemen in pursuit of the girl,” said Tu.
“Aye,” the young man spoke. “And I have for you a word from Felgar, lord king.”
“A word for me? I never saw Felgar.”
“Nay, but this he said to a border guard of Zarfhaana, to be repeated to they who pursued: ‘Tell the barbarian swine who defiles an ancient throne, that I name him scoundrel. Tell him that some day I shall return and clothe his cowardly carcase in the clothing of women, to attend my chariot horses.’”
Kull’s vast bulk heaved erect, his chair of state crashing to the floor. A moment he stood, speechless, then he found voice in a roar that sent Tu and the noble backward.
“Valka, Honen, Holgar and Hotath!” he roared, mingling deities with heathen gods in a manner that made Tu’s hair rise at the blasphemy; Kull’s huge arms were brandished aloft and his mighty fist descended on the table top with a force that buckled the heavy legs like paper. Tu, pale, swept off his feet by this tide of barbarian fury, backed against the wall, followed by the young noble who had dared much in giving Felgar’s word. However, Kull was too much the savage to connect the insult with the bearer; it must remain for civilized rulers to wreak vengeance on courtiers.
“Horses!” roared Kull. “Have the Red Slayers mount! Send Brule to me!”
He tore off his kingly robe and hurled it across the room, snatched a costly vase from the broken table and dashed it to the floor.
“Hurry!” gasped Tu shoving the young nobleman toward the door. “Get Brule, the Pictish Spear-slayer–haste, before he slays us all!”
Tu judged the king’s actions by those of preceding kings; however Kull had not progressed far enough in civilized custom to wreak his royal rage on innocent subjects.
His first red fury had been succeeded by a cold steel rage by the time Brule arrived. The Pict stalked in unconcernedly, a grim smile touching his lips as he marked the destruction caused by the king’s wrath.
Kull was garbing himself in riding garments and he looked up as Brule entered, his scintillant grey eyes gleaming coldly.
“Kull, we ride?” asked the Pict.
“Aye, we ride hard and far, by Valka! We ride to Zarfhaana first and perhaps beyond–to the lands of the snow or the desert sands or to Hell! Have three hundred of the Red Slayers in readiness.”
Brule grinned in pure enjoyment. He was a powerfully built man of medium height, dark, with glittering eyes set in immobile features. He looked much like a bronze statue. Without a word he turned and left the chamber.
“Lord king, what do you do?” ventured Tu, still shaking from fright.
“I ride on Felgar’s trail,” answered the king ferociously. “The kingdom is in your hands, Tu. I return when I have crossed swords with this Farsunian or I return not at all.”
“Nay, nay!” exclaimed Tu. “This is most unwise, king! Heed not what that nameless adventurer said! The emperor of Zarfhaana will never allow you to bring such a force as you named into his realm.”
“Then I will ride over the ruins of Zarfhaana’s cities,” was Kull’s grim reply. “Men avenge their own insults in Atlantis–and though Atlantis has disowned me and I am king of Valusia–still I am a man, by Valka!”
He buckled on his great sword and strode to the door, Tu staring after him.
There before the palace sat four hundred men in their saddles. Three hundred of these were men of the Red Slayers, Kull’s cavalry, and the most terrible soldiery of the earth. They were composed mostly of Valusian hillmen, the strongest and most vigorous of a degenerating race. The remaining hundred were Picts, lean, powerful savages, men of Brule’s tribe, who sat their horses like centaurs and fought like demons when occasion arose.
All these men gave Kull the crown salute as he strode down the palace steps and his eyes lighted with a fierce gleam. He was almost grateful to Felgar for having given him the pretext he needed to quit the monotonous life of the court for awhile and plunge into fierce action–but his thoughts toward the Farsunian were no more kindly for this reason.
At the front of this fierce array sat Brule, chieftain of Valusia’s most formidable allies, and Kelkor, second commander of the Red Slayers.
Kull acknowledged the salute by a brusk gesture and swung into the saddle.
Brule and the commander reined in on either side of him.
“At attention!” came Kelkor’s curt command. “Spurs! Forward!”
The cavalcade moved forward at an easy trot. The people of Valusia gazed curiously from their windows and doorways and the throngs on the streets turned as the clatter of silver hoofs resounded through the babble and chatter of trading and commerce. The steeds flung their caparisoned manes; the bronze armor of the warriors glinted in the sun, the pennons on the long lances streamed backward. A moment the small people of the market place stopped their gabble as the proud array swept by, blinking in stupid wonder or childish admiration; then the horsemen dwindled down the great white street, the clang of silver on cobble stone died away in the distance and the people of the city turned back to their common-place tasks. As the people always do, no matter what kings ride.
Along the broad white streets of Valusia swept the king and his horsemen, out through the suburbs with their spacious estates and lordly palaces; on and on until the golden spires and sapphire towers of Valusia were but a silver shimmer in the distance and the green hills of Zalgara loomed majestically before them.
Night found them encamped high on the slopes of the mountains. The hill people, kin to the Red Slayers, many of them, flocked to the camp with gifts of food and wine, and the warriors, the proud restraint they felt among the cities of the world loosened, talked with them and sang old songs, and exchanged old tales. But Kull walked apart, beyond the glow of the campfires to gaze out across the mystic vistas of crag and valley. The slopes were softened by verdure and foliage, the vales deepening into shadowy realms of magic, the hills standing out bold and clear in the silver of the moon. The hills of Zalgara had always held a fascination for Kull. They brought to his mind the mountains of Atlantis whose snowy heights he had scaled as a youth, ere he fared forth into the great world to write his name across the stars and make an ancient throne his seat.