Wulf the Eternal Warrior
Chapter 9: Imprisoned in Egypt

I had been in this pit for too long- 2 months to be exact, 2 months and some odd days rotting in Kemetish cell. I- Orestes of Hispania- a burglar master thief- thrown in jail with low bred curs, common street thieves and cut-purses! The shame was worse for me, almost, than the actual imprisonment and bad food: I was a prince of thieves from a land that raised thievery to an art! And here I was, in a dank prison with Kushites, Carthaginians, and others from many far-flung lands, when the Germanian was brought into the jail.

Loaded with chains he was; heavy chains that not even his mighty limbs might break. So massive were the chains about his swelling thews that he was bodily carried into the jail, and then thrown into it by four burly soldiers- and even they looked taxed at the carrying of that load of chains and Germanian…

Dropping him with a loud clank in my cell with my other cell-mates, they left with imprecations, and the jailer slammed the door behind them as they left. The Germanian, Wulf, for such I learned later was his name, was out cold, and his skin bled from numerous flesh wounds, all from the front side of his body. This last spoke volumes about Wulf’s valor and reluctance to turn from battle, more of which I would learn later.

I learned that this Wulf was a corsair, a buccaneer raiding along the coast with a crew of Black corsairs, robbing the Kemites. The captain of the ship, at that- he had been the lone survivor of a Kemitish attack. Multiple galleys had been mustered against the pirates, and the blue and black sailed ships of the Kemites had launched against the constant raiding of Wulf, who was known to the blacks he led as the Red Wolf, due to his tawny hair and of course his name.

Rumors of black arts were implicated in his capture, including a giant glass of some sort that concentrated the sun’s rays into beams of burning light- burning both pirates’ flesh and the boat itself!

Finally, the maimed ship had been boarded, and in the man-to-man fighting that remained, only Wulf survived, on a deck he left littered with corpses. But all this is in hindsight: now, in these past few hours, Wulf had come to, and was glaring about with his wolfish, blazing blue-grey eyes, his wild tawny mane tangled about his shoulders. And in through the prison door came an imposing figure, and one we never expected to see here in our lowly cell.

There was a rattle of arms, noise of voices, and suddenly who should arrive at out pitiful prison door but Thothmes, the regent king of Kemet himself! He strode into the prison with a small group of armed soldiers, their armor gleaming in the few sunbeams that entered our prison, and directly to the cell which I shared, along with several others, along with this Wulf of Germania. By the way, Germania, I later learned, is a land far to the north and to the west of my own warm and sun-kissed land of Hispania- a land of bleak, wintry mountains, and dark chilly forests. Their only god is Woden, who breathes the will to strive and slay into his followers upon their birth, and gives them nothing after that. What a cheerless land!

“And so- THIS is the pirate captain, Wulf,” expostulated Thothmes in wrath. “He shall die as no man has died in ages- this defiler of Kemitish supremacy of the seas! I plotted for months to rid us of his scurvy horde, and now tis done at last!!”

Thothmes was an imposing figure, tall and regal, with a headpiece that was a Kemitish crown of brass and gold, wearing a long purple robe. His face was twisted with anger, and he looked at Wulf with regal wrath.

Wulf regarded him from under black brows, eyes blazing, his back braced upon the wall as he sat loaded with chains. “Come in this cage, dog of Kemet, and loaded with chains as I am- I will show you who dies!” And he spat meaningfully in Thothmes direction, raising the chains upon his arms to brandish menacingly in the ruler’s face.

The king, in a paroxysm of rage, reached into his girdle, and then thrust the contents of his hand towards the caged Germanian. Full in his eyes it flew, a gray powder, and Wulf cried out- for, upon the touch of the powder, all vision had fled from his eyes- he was blind!

After being left blinded by king Thothmes, Wulf was panicked- I- Orestes, could tell just what he was thinking: what if his vision never returned? This thought daunted him even more than his upcoming execution- he had been sentenced to die more than once before in his adventurous life, and still he lived!

But blindness… the Germanian backed into a corner of the cell, and I went with him, guiding him with my words to a good spot to go to bay, as it were. I was not completely without self-interest in doing this; ever since I had seen the mighty thewed barbarian carried into the jail, I had been thinking that perhaps an alliance with such a physically imposing warrior might be a means to escaping this foul place. But whatever the reason- Wulf had found an ally in me.

We spoke at length- Wulf was a man of few words, but we Hispanians are a voluble race- we never use one word when three or four will be more descriptive, and our hands do half of our talking for us! But, since the Germanian could not see my hands just now- the poorer he for it!- I tried to paint word pictures of what was going on to him.

Nothing really happened for a time, but I saw the other prisoners eyeing us appraisingly. There is always a pecking order in jails- I have been in enough to know- and the Germanian had been too new, and too helpless in his chains to even be considered overly much… but now that he was blinded, I saw some of the biggest, dominant prisoners looking over avidly. They were thinking that if this giant was freed of his chains, even blinded he could be trouble! Bamula, a surly, giant black from deep in Darfar, was undoubtedly the top prisoner in terms of status- even the guards appeared frightened of him with his huge ebon limbs and teeth filed to points. They said his people were cannibals, and prisoners had been known to disappear from within the jail- never to be seen or heard of again. All stayed away from Bamula!

There was a clank of steel, and a rasp against iron bars. The guard, a rat-faced man with a twisted countenance and a perpetual leer had arrived with the evening rations for our cell- I told Wulf to wait, I would get him some food, and rushed in the melee of prisoners going to get their share. There was never enough, and Bamula, for one, always took enough for three at least. Caught up in the press behind Bamula, I elbowed one prisoner in the belly, and squirmed like an eel through the throng, winding up right against the bars- we Hispanians are like acrobats in our contortions!

The rat faced guard, after having warily handed a large tray to Bamula from far back, now came right up close to the bars, taunting us with the trays of food, and then drawing them back. The pig! I reached out, and he twisted away, laughing, and held the trays of food out to the other prisoners, and away from me!

But he had forgotten that the backside of his girdle also contained his jailer’s keys, and several were glinting at me at that moment- in his delight in tormenting us with the hope of meat and bread, he had forgotten them. As a master thief in my homeland, where the lowest thief in Hispania is beyond a legendary thief of any other land, taking one of those keys was child’s play! He felt not a thing; not the breath of a gnat against his girdle upon which the keys hung so temptingly- far more so to me at that moment than any victuals- any ambrosia of the gods could ever be!

I never got a tray of food, but two joints of meat I filched from a couple of other prisoners as I made my way back through the crush to the corner I shared with Wulf. What was the key TO? That was all I could think- hopefully the main door to our cell, although that would be useless without the key to the outer gate, which would trap us outside of our cell without it. Gods, but I was giddy- a path would come, sooner or later, I knew!

Coming back to Wulf, I gave him the joint of meat, which he could barely get into his mouth with the restrictions of the chains he was bound with. Suddenly I thought of something to try- I put the key into the lock holding his heavy chains- it fit perfectly! With a yelp of elation, I turned the key, and watched in joy as the lock opened. Wulf pulled off the chains in one smooth motion, and rose as they clanked to the floor.

Stretching his mighty limbs, he exulted in his newly regained freedom- although within a cell, at last he could move! Across the large compound, the other prisoners stared, their food momentarily forgotten- the rankings in the prison cell had just become much less clear. Wulf glared about, sightlessly; but his eyes blazed a bright blue sheen of menace, and his jaw was chomping his joint of beef like a newly liberated lion.

Bamula came elbowing through the other prisoners, his eyes intent on Wulf, his filed teeth bared in a grin of rage. Wulf was almost as tall as Bamula, and defined like a panther as opposed to Bamula’s vast bulk, which extended even to his vast belly supported by all of his stolen food. It was as if a gorilla was approaching a tiger, and no one knew what would be the outcome. Except, of course- the lion was blind!

I tried to warn Wulf, but Bamula had been too quick- he closed the space between them both in a heartbeat, and slammed a huge fist into the Germanian’s face, knocking the beef bone from his hand, and toppling the barbarian into the bars behind his back.

He caught himself with one hand on the bars, and put his other hand out questingly before him. Undoubtedly, Bamula was determined to eliminate this rival before there was a chance his sight might be regained. His other dark fist extended with all the power of his mighty left arm behind it, but I, with the chain I had recently unloosed from Wulf’s limbs, looped it quickly about Bamula’s ankle and pulled, upsetting his aim and defusing the blow from dealing full damage.

Even so, the power as that fist struck Wulf’s face would have felled and killed a lesser man! Great was the strength of Bamula of Darfar indeed. But now, Wulf had figured the distance he was from his attacker. He grasped the arm that had just struck him, pulling back upon it- turning the giant Bamula’s back to the himself- and then, he grasped the savage from behind, and squeezed.

With both mighty arms, Wulf squeezed the giant black, as that man clawed and strained against those implacable arms… but they just kept squeezing.

With rage not just against Bamula, but against all that had happened to him since his reavers had been captured and killed, the king’s blinding powder, the chains that had chafed him as nothing else, and now this senseless attack- a red mist swam before his mind’s eye and he squeezed as he never squeezed before. Bamula, his eyes rolling in his head, was gasping for air now, and trying to turn his head enough to get a good grip of the Germanian’s throat with his dagger-like pointed teeth…

With a final effort, Wulf jerked his arms back, and there was a crack. The blinded Germanian opened his arms, and Bamula of Darfar, the terror of his land, despoiler of Kemet, and curse of his fellow prisoners, was no more- he lay on the floor of the cell, his backbone shattered.

The next morning I awoke early from my cold spot on the stone floor of the cell. I saw that Wulf was already up, and pacing. By the way his hands were outstretched before him, I could tell his vision had not returned. But his boundless vitality had not left him- even in his limited pacing, he moved with feline grace and strength, albeit he was still a cat that couldn’t see.

The rat faced jailer arrived, along with several heavily armed and armored guards with curved swords and gleaming helms.

“ The king would see you now, blind dog,” he spoke, gesturing at Wulf. “And you,” he quothe indicating myself- the master thief Orestes- “Come you along to shepherd this blind man, soon to die for his crimes”.

Wulf grimaced, but stoically allowed himself to be shepherded by the guards, and led by myself, who lightly guided him by touching his arm.

Traveling down long corridors of gleaming jade and marble, we came at last to a gleaming throne room- the Throne of Kemet itself, upon which sat Thothmes, king of the land of the worshippers of Kos, king of the serpent folk! And beside him sat his queen, Selena, who was a dusky beauty of about his own age, dressed in gleaming scarlet robes of a dark silk. She was watching Wulf intently, gripping the sides of her own throne tightly.

“You are to die today, pirate,” said Thothmes, and he smiled slightly as he said it. The lights from numbers of brightly burning, black candles struck bright gleams from his high, peaked crown, adorned with the images of serpents blazing bright red eyes of ruby. He was a darkly handsome man of middle years, but there was a debauched look to his face that spoke of long decadence and self-indulgence.

“Your friend can watch, and report back to the others what happens to criminals in Kemet. And you are to be given a great honor- your death will help to aid my priest, Nariaster, in the greatest magic of our age- he will bring back Nafertari- the great queen of Stygia from 2000 years ago, the greatest beauty and sorceress of her age. With her as my consort, nothing can stop me from ruling the whole of the known world as we did then- from Hispania to the Hellenes in the north, and past Kush, Keshan, and Punt to the south”! He spoke these words with a thrill of passion.

“Fresh blood from a Northlander, from the lands of ice and snow, that is a potent magic in this rejuvenation of the long dead. The vitality of such folk can be used… productively! Chain him!” said the king. The guards produced a chain that was attached to the floor, and put it about Wulf’s waist, and that of myself, the incomparable thief Orestes as well. The shame of it! I was no common cutpurse, subject to chaining!

“Now I go to fetch my priest, Nariaster, and the mummy case of my Nafertari,” said the king, glancing sidelong at his queen with a smile like that of a cat toying with a mouse. “I need a younger queen along with my current older model…” and he laughed unpleasantly, leaving the hall in a swirl of crimson robes, the guards marching along behind him, armor clanking as they went.

No sooner than had the king left the hall, did Selena come down from her throne to where Wulf and I were chained. Her countenance was agitated; she seemed excited and worried at the same time.

“I can aid you, barbarian, if you will aid me. Thothmes seeks to discard me for a long-dead queen- I will not stand for it! He is only king by virtue of marrying me, the highest born in this ancient land. I would slay him and rule on my own, but I do not dare- the people will not recognize a female ruler any longer, as they did in ages past. I can restore your sight-will you aid me?”

And she indicated by her glance that she included both of us in the proposal, but she scarcely meant me by the way her eyes burned on the barbarian. We Hispanians know when to not protest, though it burned me, her disregard…

Wulf nodded, but the look on his face at the prospect of regaining his sight was all that she needed. At once, she went to a jeweled chest next to the king’s throne, and withdrew a small vial of powder. This she threw in the Germanian’s eyes, and within a few heartbeats he could see! He shook his head like an awakening lion, and pointed to the chain attaching him to the floor.

“I will loosen you, northlander, and your companion, but you must swear to aid me in slaying the black priest. Then my cursed king and consort will be deterred from bringing back this ancient harlot, and abandoning me!”

At that moment, there was noise from down the hall- the king was returning! Queen Selena climbed quickly back onto her throne, and acted as if she had never moved. She looked faintly bored; a natural actress, I thought! Wulf could see, but we were still in chains, awaiting death. I didn’t see how we could aid ourselves, much less Selena.

Into the hall came the king, and with him was a very tall, extremely thin man- the sorcerer Nariaster. He had a black mustache, and a small square beard on his cadaverous face. He brandished a long rod of gold that glowed faintly, and his feet were almost covered by the long black robe he wore, chased with scarlet serpents. Behind them both were the guards, of which two of them carried between them a large mummy case, decorated with gold and gems, and obviously of a very great age.

Setting the mummy case down on its end, the guards repaired to the doors of the hall. The case showed, amidst the gold and gemstones, the exquisite painting of a woman- probably the most gorgeous woman that I, a Hispanian had ever seen- and Hispanian women are the most exotic and desired in the entire world- so this is who Thothmes was bringing back!

King Thothmes addressed Wulf and myself “Now, you will be honored by having your blood go to revive my newest queen”.

He glanced at the black priest, and Nariaster bowed slightly, opening the case containing the long dead Nafertari. Inside, held erect by the close walls of the carven ebon case, was a withered, dry horror. Bandages had slipped from the face, revealing a skull-like visage, and some wisps of long dead hair.

‘How could that ever live, I thought’! I saw Wulf had a similar reaction, but then the priest lifted his golden rod, and touched it to the breast of the mummy. It glowed with a strange, unearthly and not unbeautiful radiance, and under the bandages the mummy began to swell. Even the face began to round up some, although it remained a long dead mask of horror. And the chest even moved as the thing- breathed! Even the hair became fuller, less wispy as we watched.

Nariaster then spoke, with a sibilant and snake-like lisp to his unnaturally loud and low voice.

“Now, we need the blood of the Northlander to complete the enchantment!”

Upon saying this last, the black priest of Kemet again used his golden rod, pointing it at a thick hanging on the wall furthest from the thrones. There was a slithering sound, and moments later a huge, fanged serpent slithered into the chamber.

“My pet will crush your life from you, but leave your blood intact for the rite of rejuvenation. These things must be done delicately…”

At that, the queen Selena reached over to pull a small lever at the side of King Thothme’s throne. There was a clanking sound, and the chains holding us to the floor detached, and fell to the floor! Obviously a concealed mechanism to facilitate releasing prisoners easily after execution. I thought that this priest must be far ahead of his time to devise such a means, but I’m sure Wulf, not one to waste time wondering how, just chalked it up to further sorcery, and went into instant action.

Selena, reaching behind the throne where ancient decorative weapons were hung, grasped an old broadsword with a jeweled hilt. This, she threw with both arms towards Wulf and myself, where it clattered noisily on the floor tiles. The Germanian was there almost instantly, his bright blue-grey eyes blazing with sight, and also the fury that comes from escaping a trap to any wild thing!

In this brief interlude, Thothmes glared with rage and startled disbelief at his queen Serena; and grabbing a dagger from his girdle, headed for the steps of her throne to take vengeance. He passed directly in front of the half-revived mummy case, moving fast, when suddenly- he stopped dead! A look of horror passed over his face, and he looked to see what had stopped him. The withered arm of the long dead Nafertari was locked about his arm, imprisoning it in a grip of supernatural strength. And then, Nafertari reached out with her other bony undead arm, and pulled Thothmes face towards her champing, skull like face- for a kiss? Thothmes screamed like a damned soul.

Meanwhile, Wulf had not stopped moving, and neither had the huge snake- it barreled towards him, a light of unnatural intelligence in its slanted eyes. It went straight for the Germanian, recognizing its goal very well. Meanwhile, this Hispanian was preoccupied with the intentness of this snake, who was now coiling up into the vast heights of the hall, looking down at the advancing barbarian with reptilian hate and awful purpose. The guards had left their posts, and come to join the melee, but they appeared more frightened of the giant snake than they did of Wulf. What was I to do, a master thief, yet knowing nothing of snakes?

Wulf slashed viciously at the serpent, cutting part way through its massive barrel, and the snake struck downwards, coiling about him and starting to squeeze! I headed towards him to help, but was cut off by a huge ball of fire aimed at my head.

Nariaster had used his black arts to conjure up a flaming ball, which hit a hanging behind me that immediately went up in flames! And he was even now reaching under his robes for another -what? Nightmare flames of death or something equally as deadly.

In Hispania, many are our talents! Wonderful thieves, wonderful lovers, we are also- wonderful at knife throwing! Before Nariaster could let fly his latest necromancy, I threw my poniard with all I could muster! It struck directly into the priests black heart- his eyes dimmed, and he slumped to the floor, dead.

I glanced towards Wulf, as he was slashing at the snake with his one free arm., the rest being imprisoned in the coils of the serpent. Suddenly, the giant snake uncoiled, moving back to escape that slashing blade. It had gone into a panic; used to squeezing and killing unarmed, imprisoned people for sacrifice, this slashing barbarian was beyond its ken. It lashed about the hall, voicing a horrid serpent-like hissing cry. The guardsmen in the room attempted to flee, but many were killed by the monster’s desperate thrashings .

Serena moved down from the dais where her throne sat, walking warily around her former king Thothmes, still locked in the unwanted embrace of his dead queen. She still felt he would revive, ready to torture her yet again, as he had done for so long.

But he appeared very dead; the horror of his situation appeared to have stopped his heart- and the thing, the long-dead mummy queen, the beautiful Queen Nafertari just kept champing at his face with her bony lips, in a foul imitation of a kiss! Without the blood of the Northlanders, her famed beauty would never be revived, and she could never truly live again- she was trapped in a half-way state between life and death.

Wulf had almost finished killing the snake, having cut its trunk almost in twain. At the last, the snake reared up in final desperation, slithering away faster than could be believed. It shot down a tunnel, as Wulf gasped for breath from his efforts. He was sweating profusely, and bleeding from a score of places where the rough hide of the serpent had rasped off his skin.

I, his wonderful protector-the redoubtable Orestes- went to his side, and Selena also came to join us, past the scene of horror by the mummy case.

Indicating to myself and Wulf that we should follow her, she led us out through the very passage the snake had crawled. It went- downwards- and I was uneasy; but she had played us fair so far- and then, she glided down a side passage, and then upwards. Explaining, she told us this was a hidden escape route, known only to the black priest, the king, and herself.

“And now,” she said without a trace of sadness “known only to me, and yourselves”. She smiled, with satisfaction, but no gladness.

The passage let out into a small, side alley off of the palace. Serena looked at Conan, with her dark, beautiful, mysterious eyes, and her full lips parted as she spoke- locking her eyes on those of the blueish-grey blazing eyes of that northern, exotic barbarian Wulf.

“A worthy King you would be, oh Wulf of Germania! I would keep you for mine- for a man as powerful as you, and as untamed would be a fit paramour for the queen of Kemet…but, I cannot- my people would never accept any but one of their own race. I must select a new king, one without ambitions of his own, that then I can rule through him. I will never marry another like Thothmes, although I did once love him.”

She handed a pouch of gold to both Wulf and me, although her eyes never left his own. The Germanian still held his sword, clotted with serpent blood.

“Go, the both of you- just over there is the Seamans’ wharf, where you can hire a ship to take you where you will. The pirate situation is all clear for now,“she smiled wryly, “and I am free of both Nariaster AND Thothmes- Kos be praised! Although, I can’t just leave that undead witch champing away at my former husband- I’ll have my men hack her apart with their swords, and then burn what is left. I plan never to have another rival to my throne!”

And with that, she left. I looked at Wulf, thinking he might be missing her- but he was looking towards the wharves, as if she had never been.

“You know, Orestes,” he said with unfeigned enthusiasm- “I’ve had more than enough of this benighted land- Bah! Snakes, mummies, and priests- what say you show me some honest rogues in Hispania? Some good, honest thieves- By the gods, that will be like a tonic to me! I’ll show them what it is to be robbed!”

And with that, we set off for the wharves. But, on the way, the Germanian steered me into a seaside tavern for some clean, honest tankards of ale and enough good roast beef to sate even Wulf of Germania!