Then silence fell again and more tensely as Kull stepped forward and reached forth a hand to tear the veil from the hidden face. Through the thin fabric Kull felt two eyes burn into his conciousness. None noticed Ka-nanu clench his hands and tense himself as if for a terrific struggle.
Then as Kull’s hand almost touched the veil, a sudden sound broke the breathless silence–such a sound as a man might make by striking the floor with his forehead or elbow. The noise seemed to come from a wall and Kull crossing the room with a stride, smote against a panel, from behind which the rapping sounded. A hidden door swung inward, revealing a dusty corridor, upon which lay the bound and gagged form of a man.
The dragged him forth and standing him upright, unbound him.
“Kuthulos!” shrieked Delcardes.
Kull stared. The man’s face, now revealed was thin, and kindly like a teacher or philosophy and morals.
“Yes, my lords and lady,” he said, “That man who wears my veil stole upon me through the secret door, struck me down and bound me. I lay there, hearing him send the king to what he thought was Kull’s death, but could do nothing.”
“Then who is he?” All eyes turned toward the veiled figure and stepped forward.
“Lord king, beware!” exclaimed the real Kuthulos, “He–”
Kull tore the veil away with one motion and recoiled with a gasp. Delcardes screamed and her knees gave way; the councillors pressed backward, faces white and the guard released their grasp and shrank horror-struck away.
The face of the man was a bare white skull, in whose eyes sockets flamed livid fire!
“Thulses Doom!”
“Aye, Thulses Doom, fools!” the voice echoed cavernously and hollowly, “The greatest of all wizards and your eternal foe, Kull of Atlantis. You have won this tilt but, beware, there shall be others.”
He burst the bonds on his arms with a single contemptuous gesture and stalked toward the door, the throng giving back before him.
“You are a fool of no discernment, Kull,” said he, “else you had never mistaken that other fool, Kuthulos, for me, even with the veil and his garments.”
Kull saw that it was so, for though the twain were alike in height and general shape, the flesh of the Skull-faced wizard was like that of a man long dead.
The king stood, not fearful like the others, but so amazed at the turn events had taken that he was speechless. Then even as he sprang forward, like a man waking from a dream, Brule charged with the silent ferocity of a tiger, his curved sword gleaming. And like a gleam of light it flashed into the ribs of Thulses Doom, piercing him through and through so that the point stood out between his shoulders.
Brule regained his blade with a quick wrench as he leaped back, then, crouching strike again were it necessary, he halted. Not a drop of blood oozed from the wound which in a living man had been mortal. The Skull-faced one laughed.
“Ages ago I died as men die!” he taunted, “Nay, I shall pass to some other sphere when my time comes, not before. I bleed not for my veins are empty and I feel only a slight coldness which shall pass when the wound closes, as it is even now closing. Stand back, fool, your master goes but he shall come again to you and you shall scream and shrivel and die in that coming! Kull, I salute you!”
And while Brule hesitated, unnerved, and Kull halted in undecided amazement Thulses Doom stepped through the door and vanished before their very eyes.
“At least, Kull,” said Ka-nanu later, “You have won your first tilt with the Skull-faced one, as he admitted. Next time we must be more wary, for he is a fiend incarnate–an owner of magic black and unholy. He hates you for he is a satellite of the great serpent whose power you broke; he has the gift of illusion and of invisibility, which only he posseses. He is grim and terrible.”
“I fear him not.” said Kull, “The next time I will be prepared and my answer shall be a sword thrust, even though he be unslayable, which thing I doubt. Brule did not find his vitals, which even a living being dead man must have, that is all.”
Then turning to Tu,
“Lord Tu, it would seem that the civilized races also have their tambus, since the blue lake is forbidden to all save myself.”
Tu answered testily, angry because Kull had given the happy Delcardes permission to marry whom she desired:
“My lord, that is no heathen tambu such your tribe bows to; it is a matter of state-craft, to preserve peace between Valusia and the lake-beings who are magicians.”
“And we keep tambus so as not to offend unseen spirits of tigers and eagles.” said Kull, “And therein I see no difference.”
“At any rate,” said Tu, “You must beware of Thulses Doom; for he vanished into another dimension and as long as he is there he is invisible and harmless to us, but he will come again.”
“Ah, Kull,” sighed the old rascal, Ka-nanu, “Mine is a hard life compared to yours; Brule and I were drunk in Zarfhaana and I fell down a flight of stairs, most damnably bruising my shins. And all the while you lounged in sinful ease on the silk of the kingship, Kull.”
Kull glared at him wordlessly and turned his back, giving his attention to the drowsing Saremes.
“She is not a wizard-beast, Kull,” said the Spear-slayer, “She is wise but she merely looks her wisdom and does not speak. Yet her eyes fascinate me with their antiquity. A mere cat, just the same.”
“Still, Brule,” said Kull, admiringly, stroking her silky fur, “Still, she is a very ancient cat, very.”
The King and the Oak
(Draft)
Before the shadows of the night before the dawn lay dead
King Kull rode out of Kolderkon to make a king a bed;
Oh, bitter was the couch he made, doom black and ghastly red.
Before the shadows slew the sun the kites were soaring free
And Kull rode down the forst road, his red sword at his knee;
And winds were whispering ’round the world: “King Kull rides to the sea.”
The sun died crimson in the sea, the long grey shadows fell,
The moon rose like a silver skull that wrought a demon’s spell
For in its light great trees stood up like specters out of Hell.
In spectral light the trees stood up inhuman monsters dim,
Kull thought each trunk a living shape, each branch a knotted limb,
And strange unmortal evil eyes flamed terribly at him.
The branches writhed like knotted snakes, they beat against the night,
And one great oak with swayings stiff stupendous in his sight,
Tore up its roots and blocked his way, grim in the ghostly light.
They grappled in the forest way, the king and grisly oak;
Its great limbs bent him in their grip, but never a word was spoke;
And useless in his iron hand, his stabbing dagger broke.
And all about the frenzied king, there sang a dim refrain
Frought deep with seven million years of evil, hate and pain:
“We were the lords ere man had come, and shall be lords again.”
At dawn the king with bloody hands strove ’gainst a silent tree;
As from a drifting dream he woke; a wind blew down the lea,
And Kull of high Atlantis rode silent to the sea.
Appendices
ATLANTEAN GENESIS
by Patrice Louinet
Between 1926 and 1930, Robert E. Howard began thirteen stories featuring Kull, Atlantean king of Valusia, completing ten. However only three of those tales saw print in Howard’s lifetime: The Shadow Kingdom (Weird Tales, August 1929), The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune (Weird Tales, September 1929), and Kings of the Night (Weird Tales, November 1930), the last a Bran Mak Morn story co-starring the Atlantean king.