18) “The Tale of Satampra Zeiros” by Clark Ashton Smith
Plot:
Satampra Zeiros of Uzuldaroum writes about all that happened to him and his friend and partner, Tirouv Ompallios, in the shrine of Tsathoggua. Satampra and Tirouv live by thieving and adventuring. They’ve enjoyed some glorious times, but right now, they’re down on their luck. They spend their last three pazoors (which could have bought them two loaves of bread) on a bottle of pomegranate wine.
“Is there any reason why you and I, who are brave men and nowise subject to the fears and superstitions of the multitude, should not avail ourselves of the kingly treasure of Commorion?” Satampra asks his friend as the level of the pomegranate wine drifts ever earthward. “A day’s journey from this tiresome town, a pleasant sojourn in the country, an afternoon or forenoon of archaeological research—and who knows what we should find?”
Commorion is the former capital, deserted hundreds of years earlier because the White Sybil of Polarion foretold an undescribed and abominable doom would fall for all mortal beings who should dare to tarry within its environs.
Tirouv agrees to go to Commorion. It’s rumored to lie untouched all this time. Imagine the jewels in the idols of the temples! And who’s to stop them from taking what they want?
They leave, robbing and duping people on the way, because that’s what they do.
The jungle has grown up around the site of the city, adding a sense of gloom, but that doesn’t deter our heroes. They find the city almost perfectly preserved. The first temple they come across differs from the other buildings. It is a shrine of one of the elder gods, Tsathoggua, whom no one worships anymore. The only signs of decay are the several splinters and crumbled places in the lintel along the door.
Our heroes work hard to push the door open, certain to find treasure inside. To their dismay, only a plain brass cauldron and an unadorned statue of the god meet them. There are no jewel-encrusted idols, no piles of gold on the floor.
However, something stirs within the brass cauldron.
Thoughts:
This story is one of two of Smith’s Satampra Zeiros stories and part of his Hyperborea cycle, which combines the Iron Age with a touch of Lovecraft’s cosmic horror and a little Cthulhu Mythos thrown in for fun. It comes across as something out of Lord Dunsany’s sword-and-sorcery, with a couple of ne’er-do-well adventurers thieving and running away their way through life before something bites them on the rear end—or, in Satampra’s case, the hand.
The writing is atmospheric. The reader knows immediately that Satampra has lost his right hand and that Tirouv is probably dead. After they leave the highway for the overgrown road to Commorion, it’s like they enter another world. As they walk further into the forest, they lose daylight, and the air grows “fraught with oppressive odors of lush growth and of vegetable corruption.” “Stealthy vipers” glide by at their feet, but there are no birds, only “huge purpureal bats with eyes like tiny rubies” who feast on “poisonous-looking fruits.”
Yet, our heroes, certain there’s a pot of gold just waiting for them, sally forth, not missing a step—regardless of what else they miss.
While the end may not be a surprise, this yarn gives the reader some good old-fashioned horror. The prose might be a little heavy for the modern reader. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it. It’s a good little Halloween tale.
I could not find an online version with a secure connection and legible text, but here is an audio version: (31:41)
Bio: Clark Ashton Smith (1893-1961) was primarily a poet but is now best known for his weird fiction, much of which was published in Weird Tales. His prose tends to be extravagant. His protagonists are often drawn, against their better judgment, toward some dangerous or forbidden object. He also painted and translated works.
Title: “The Tale of Satampra Zeiros”
Author: Clark Ashton Smith (1893-1961)
First published: Weird Tales, November 1931
Length: short story
