The Ultimate Weird Tales Collection - 133 stories - Clark Ashton Smith (Trilogus Classics) (220 page)

"We, the originals of mankind, are dismayed by the sight of a copy so coarse and egregiously perverted from the true model. We disown you with sorrow and indignation. Your presence here is an unwarrantable intrusion; and it is obvious that you are not to be assimilated even by our most esurient dinosaurs. Therefore we put you under a geas: depart without delay fmm the Cavern of the Archetypes, and seek out the slimy gulf in which Abhoth, father and mother of all cosmic uncleanness, eternally carries on Its repugnant fission. We consider that you are fit only for Abhoth, which will perhaps mistake you for one of Its own progeny and devour you in accordance with the custom which It follows."

The weary hunter was led by the untirable Raphtontis to a deep cavern on the same level as that of the Archetypes. Possibly it was a kind of annex to the latter. At any rate, the ground was much firmer there, even though the air was murkier; and Ralibar Vooz might have recovered a little of his custonary aplomb, if it had not been for the ungodly and disgusting creatures which he soon began to meet. There were things which he could liken only to monstrous one-legged toads, and immense myriad-tailed worms, and miscreated lizards. They came flopping or crawling through the gloom in a ceaseless procession; and there was no end to the loathsome morphologic variations which they displayed. Unlike the Archetypes, they were formed of all too solid matter, and Ralibar Vooz was both fatigued and nauseated by the constant necessity of kicking them away from his shins. He was somewhat relieved to find, however, that these wretched abortions became steadily smaller as he continued his advance.

The dusk about him thickened with hot, evil steam that left an oozy deposit on his armor and bare face and hands. With every breath he inhaled an odor noisome beyond imagining. He stumbled and slipped on the crawling foulnesses underfoot. Then, in that reeky twilight, he saw the pausing of Raphtontis; and below the demoniac bird he descried a sort of pool with a margin of mud that was marled with obscene offal; and in the pool a grayish, horrid mass that nearly choked it from rim to rim.

Here, it seemed, was the ultimate source of all miscreation and abomination. For the gray mass quobbed and quivered, and swelled perpetually; and from it, in manifold fission, were spawned the anatomies that crept away on every side through the grotto. There were things like bodiless legs or arms that flailed in the slime, or heads that rolled, or floundering bellies with fishes' fins; and all manner of things malformed and monstrous, that grew in size as they departed from the neigbborhood of Abhoth. And those that swam not swiftly ashore when they fell into the pool from Abhoth, were devoured by mouths that gaped in the parent bulk.

Ralibar Vooz was beyond thought, beyond horror, in his weariness: else he would have known intolerable shame, seeing that he had come to the bourn ordained for him by the Archetypes as most fit and proper. A deadness near to death was upon his faculties; and he heard as if remote and high above him a voice that proclaimed to Abhoth the reason of his coming; and he did not know that the voice was his own.

There was no sound in answer; but out of the lumpy mass there grew a member that stretched and lengthened tovrard Ralibar Vopz where he stood waiting on the pool's margin. The nember divided to a flat, webby hand, soft and slimy, which touched the hunter and went over his person slowly from foot to head. Having done this, it seemed that the thing had served its use: for it dropped quickly away from Abhoth and wriggled into the gloom like a serpent together with the other progeny.

Still waiting, RaHbar Vooz felt in his brain a sensation as of speech heard without words or sound. And the import, rendered in human language, was somewhat as follows:

"I, who am Abhoth, the coeval of the oldest gods, consider that the Archetypes have shown a questionable taste in recommending you to me. After careful inspection, I fail to recognize you as one of my relatives or progeny; though I must admit that I was nearly deceived at first by certain biologic similarities. You are quite alien to my experience; and I do not care to endanger my digestion with untried articles of diet. "

"Who you are, or whence you have corne, I can not surmise; nor can I thank the Archetypes for troubling the profound and placid fertility of my existence with a problem so vexatious as the one that you offer. Get hence, I adjure you. There is a bleak and drear and dreadful limbo, known as the Outer World, of which I have heard dimly; and I think that it might prove a suitable objective for your journeying. I settle an urgent geas upon you: go seek this Outer World with all possible expedition."

Apparently Raphtontis realized that it was beyond the physical powers of his charge to fulfill the seventh geas without an interim of repose. He led the hunter to one of the numerous exits of the grotto inhabited by Abhoth: an exit giving on regions altogether unknown, opposite to the Cavern of the Archetypes. There, with significant gestures of his wings and beak, the bird indicated a sort of narrow alcove in the rock, The recess was dry and by no means uncomfortable as a sleeping-place. Ralibar Vooz was glad to lay himself down; and a black tide of slumber rolled upon him with the closing of his eyelids. Raphtontis remained on guard before the alcove, discouraging with strokes of his bill the wandering progeny of Abhoth that tried to assail the sleeper.

Since there was neither night nor day in that subterrene world, the term of oblivion enjoyed by Ralibar Vooz was hardly to be measured by the usual method of time-telling. He was aroused by the noise of vigorously flapping wings, and saw beside him the fowl Raphtontis, holding in his beak an unsavory object whose anatomy was that of a fish rather than anything else. Where or how he had caught this creature during his constant vigil was a more than dubious matter; but Ralibar Vooz had fasted too long to be squeamish. He accepted and devoured the proffered breakfast without ceremony.

After that, in conformity with the geas laid upon him by Abhoth, he resumed his journey back to the outer Earth. The route chosen by Raphtontis was presumably a short-cut. Anyhow, it was remote from the cloudy cave of the Archetypes, and the laboratories in which the serpent-men pursued their arduous toils and toxicological researches. Also, the enchanted palace of Haon-Dor was omitted from the itinerary. But, after long, tedious climbing through a region of desolate crags and over a sort of underground plateau, the traveller came once more to the verge of that farstretching, bottomless chasm which was bridged only by the webs of the spider-god Atlach-Nacha.

For some time past he had hurried his pace because of certain of the progeny of Abhoth, who had followed him from the start and had grown steadily bigger after the fashion of their kind, till they were now large as young tigers or bears. However, when he approached the nearest bridge, he saw that a ponderous and slothlike entity, preceding him, had already begun to cross it. The posteriors of this being was studded with unamiable eyes, and Ralibar Vooz was unsure for a little regarding its exact orientation. Not wishing to tread too closely upon the reverted talons of its heels, he waited till the monster had disappeared in the darkness; and by that time the spawn of Abhoth were hard upon him.

Raphtontis, with sharp admonitory cawings, floated before him above the giant web; and he was impelled to a rash haste by the imminently slavering snouts of the dark abnormalities behind. Owing to such precipitancy, he failed to notice that the web had been weakened and some of its strands torn or stretched by the weight of the sloth-like monster. Coming in view of the chasm's opposite verge, he thought only of reaching it, and redoubled his pace. But at this point the web gave way beneath him. He caught wildly at the broken, dangling strands, but could not arrest his fall. With several pieces of Atlach-Nacha's weaving clutched in his fingers, he was precipitated into that gulf which no one had ever voluntarily tried to plumb.

This, unfortunately, was a contingency that had not been provided against by the terms of the seventh geas.

THE SHAH'S MESSENGER

The Shah sealed the letter and summoned a servant from another room. The servant entered, and salaamed till his long beard touched the floor.

"Ahmet," said the Shah, "you are to take this message with all speed to Amurath, Sultan of Turkey, and bring his answer to me. By all means you must be back within a month. If you are not—well, you know as well as I do," he added significantly.

Ahmet understood. Genghis, Shah of Persia, was a man whose slightest command must be obeyed to the letter, otherwise, trouble for the disobedient one would surely ensue. And the punishment would be no slight one—a sound bastinadoing at the least, and death by the cruellest tortures at the most. Ahmet had no desire to incur either. Besides, he loved his master.

He left the presence of Genghis, after salaaming three times in his profoundest manner. He went first to the stables to make his preparations for the long journey. He selected a horse, but not the swiftest he could find. The one he did take was a small, wiry, impatient beast, not over twelve hands high, of a deep, black color. This steed was noted for its endurance, and tho many a horse could easily have outstripped it, none could hold out as long. The beast could run a hundred miles on a little water and a handful of dates. It was of the purest Arabian breed.

Ahmet told the grooms to have it ready for him within an hour and then returned to the palace to make his other preparations.

Going to his room he took a large quantity of money from a box and placed it in a leathern wallet. The wallet he securely attached to his belt.

In another and smaller wallet he placed the King's letter. Then he stowed the wallet in an inner pocket of his jacket and proceeded to sew the pocket up with strong pack-thread.

This done he went again to the Shah, took his farewells, went to the stables, leaped into the saddle of his horse which the grooms held waiting for him, and was off at a gallop.

The walls of Ispahan were soon left behind. He put up in a Khan by the roadside for the night, and then proceeded on his journey again.

In due time he reached Istanboul, the capital of the Turks, and delivered his letter to the Sultan.

After reading it the Sultan wrote a somewhat lengthy reply and handed it to Ahmet.

"Do not read it!" cautioned Amurath. "If you do, trouble will come of it for you, myself, and your imperial master the Shah."

"Your command is sacred to me, and shall be obeyed," replied Ahmet, and he withdrew with a great curiosity gnawing at his heart.

Two hours later, Istanbul and the Bosphorus were out of sight behind the hills of Room-Elee, and Ahmet was galloping swiftly on the homeward journey.

"What can it be that disaster will ensue if I read it?" thought Ahmet. "Surely there will be no harm in that. No one will be the wiser, save I."

But his promise to the Sultan kept him from opening the packet. Nothing else could have done so. But strive against it as he might, curiosity still gnawed at his heart, and at last he determined to satisfy it. "There can be no harm," he said to his troubled conscience. "No one, save I, will be the wiser."

He drew the letter from his pocket, but knew not how to break the seal and replace it so that the opening would not be detected. Then he put it back and thought awhile.

"Why not duplicate it?" he said, at last.

At Bagdad, on the next day, he secured wax, exactly alike as to the color, to that of which the seal was formed. Then, with his knife, he removed the seal which was on the letter. This was of a round shape, and no design was stamped upon it.

He unfolded the sheets of fine parchment, which were closely written in the Arabic character. The language was Persian. First, before reading them, he counted the sheets. They were two in number and written only on one side.

This done, he began at the beginning and read the letter. It was somewhat as follows, but I have shortened it by half to accommodate it to the length of this story:

"To thee Genghis, Shah in Shah of Persia, I, Amurath the Fourth, the prince of all true Believers, Shadow of God on Earth, King of the Two Worlds, Lord of the Two Seas, thru whose existence life hath been ennobled, send greeting:

"On this very day, thy messenger, Ahmet, arrived at our palace, and presented thy letter to us. I have no objection to telling thee where the treasure is hidden. It seemeth strange to me that thou didst not before ask me this question. The treasure, which is lawfully yours, is situated on the main road between Bagdad and Ispahan, exactly ten miles east of the former, in a large cave which you cannot help seeing, it being the only one within twenty miles, and in the first hillside you come to after leaving Bagdad. As a reward for this information, I think it not unreasonable that you send me one twentieth part of what you find.

"Thy faithful Friend,

"Amurath the Fourth,

"Sultan of Turkey"