Book 7 in my re-read of the Conan series. Spoilers ahead!
Red Nails
I had read an assortment of Conan stories as a kid, and this is one I remember vividly, especially this passage from the beginning where Conan and a busty, blond pirate named Valeria are in a dense forest and encounter a prehistoric reptile.
"Through the thicket was thrust a head of nightmare and lunacy. Grinning jaws bared rows of dripping yellow tusks; above the yawning mouth wrinkled a saurian-like snout. Huge eyes, like those of a python a thousand times magnified, stared unwinkingly at the petrified humans clinging to the rock above it. Blood smeared the scaly, flabby lips and dripped from the huge mouth."
After their run in with the "dragon", the two seek shelter in a seemingly abandoned and walled city. In Conan's travels, ancient deserted cities are commonplace, and for the reader are like the proverbial box of chocolates in which you never know what you're going to get. Here, the city in question is Xuchotl, and is sparsely populated as turns out by two warring factions that have been locked in a Helen of Troy like dispute for as long as anyone can remember. The entire city is constructed as if it were one giant house (or an indoor shopping mall) with no open air whatsoever- just floor after floor of empty chambers and endless hallways, and the Hatfields and McCoys that live there prowl around, each with a comedically deranged love of torture that's second only to their fear of being tortured. Out of all the mysterious, haunted, dead cities Conan has set foot in, this one just might be my favorite.
"It was a ghastly, unreal nightmare existence these people lived, shut off from the rest of the world, caught together like rabid rats in the same trap, butchering one another through the years, crouching and creeping through the sunless corridors to maim and torture and murder."
Later, after much slaughter, sorcery, and the appearance of a third aggrieved party that comes shambling out of a basement packed with dead bodies and black magic, Conan and Valeria are the last pirates standing, and they decide to keep the party going with plans of plundering together.
Jewels of Gwahlur
I have no idea how heavily edited this story is, but for me, it's style felt more modern and straight forward than anything else I've previously read in this series. I still enjoyed it, but it lacked the distinctive atmosphere I would normally expect from a Howard story. It's basically a one man heist story, and opens with one of it's most compelling sequences, in which Conan scales a sheer cliff with nothing more than his bare hands. The mid-section is largely comprised of an Abbott and Costello like routine inside an abandoned palace involving the enchanted corpse of a princess that has left it perfectly preserved continually getting replaced with a lookalike slave girl much to the confusion and consternation of Conan, a group of dimwitted priests, and a couple of schemers after the same loot as Conan. The story's saving grace is the emergence of a mob of malformed men that live beneath the palace that have been feeding on corpses. They're a terrifying lot as evidenced by this passage:
"He saw a man torn in two pieces, as one might tear a chicken, and the bloody fragments hurled clear across the cavern. The massacre was as short and devastating as the rush of a hurricane. In a burst of red abysmal ferocity it was over, except for one wretch who fled screaming back the way the priests had come, pursued by a swarm of blood-dabbled shapes of horror which reached out their red-smeared hands for him."
The story ends with another display of Conan's chivalrous nature, when he chooses to save the slave girl over the jewels he risked life and limb to steal.
Beyond the Black River
At the outset, Beyond the Black River, with all of it's talk of settlers, forts, savages, and scalps, felt more like Last of the Mohicans than Conan, and it was a little disorienting, but it quickly became one of my favorite stories. A frontier settlement is terrorized by a shaman named Zogar Sag that intends to unite the clans of Picts against the whites, and Conan is charged with assassinating him, and he assembles his own dirty dozen to do the deed. Balthus, a young man Conan recently saved, volunteers for the mission, and describes his comrades as such:
"They were of a new breed growing up in the world on the raw edge of the frontier- men whom grim necessity had taught woodcraft."
They're heavily scarred and muscled, and seem formidable enough, but then he compares them to Conan:
"They were wild men, of a sort, yet there was still a wide gulf between them and the Cimmerian. They were sons of civilization, reverted to a semi-barbarism. He was a barbarian of a thousand generations of barbarians. They had acquired stealth and craft, but he had been born to these things. He excelled them even in lithe economy of motion. They were wolves, but he was a tiger."
As a whole, they're like a Hyborian Age Navy Seals team- the best of the best, but their mission unfortunately goes fubar, and Conan and Balthus are the only survivors. While on the run through the woods, Zogar Sag sends a wild leopard after them and Conan explains why only certain animals obey the shaman's commands. Apparently, once upon a time, men and animals alike worshipped something called Jhebbal Sag, and those who actually still remember this deity share a bond and speak the same language. And as it turns out, Zogar is the son of this ancient being, and also has a demonic half brother that's gunning for Conan. Later, a feral dog named Slasher (!?) with a burning hatred for all Picts after they slew his master, comes to their aid.
The trio save the lives of numerous settlers, however the fort is overrun and the nearly 800 men inside are slaughtered. Sadly, Balthus and Slasher sacrifice themselves to allow a group of women and children escape, but not before creating a heap of dead Pict warriors. Most of the secondary characters in Conan's exploits are fairly unmemorable, but the deaths of the boy and the dog feels like a real loss, and Conan vows "The heads of ten Picts shall pay for his, and seven heads for the dog, who was a better warrior than many a man".
The tale ends somberly, and a woodsman reflecting on the recent events notes cynically, " Barbarism is the natural state of mankind. Civilization is unnatural. It is a whim of circumstance. And barbarism must always ultimately triumph."