Guest post by Anthony Perconti

Clark Ashton Smith’s story, “The Black Abbot of Puthuum,” appeared in the March 1936 issue of Weird Tales. This story, part of Smith’s Zothique cycle, chronicles the adventures of two soldiers in the employ of King Hoaraph of Yoros. The Zothique tales take place in Earth’s far flung future; the supercontinent of Zothique is a geological patchwork made up of sections of Asia Minor, Arabia, Persia, India, east Africa and the Indonesian archipelago. A smaller continent lies across the ocean to the south, while to the west, a few small islands reside. Due to the extreme age of the planet, countless sequences of cultures and civilizations have risen and fallen over the long span of eons. Zothique is the last continent, inhabited by the last vestiges of humanity (and other races) prior to the planet’s final demise. In this late, decadent era, a monarch’s rule is absolute, sorcery (or something very much resembling it) holds sway and technology is reminiscent of Earth’s Bronze Age.

Within this setting we are introduced to Zobal the archer and Cushara the pike bearer. These two companions are the veterans of a decade’s worth of armed and bloody conflict against the enemies of King Hoaraph. As a reward for their exemplary service to the crown, they are assigned the cushy duty of guarding the king’s chief eunuch and procurer of concubines, Simban, on an expedition to the far side of the Izdrel wastes. Their purpose is to retrieve (purchase) a girl of rumored celestial beauty from the people of the pasturelands beyond the desert. The outgoing trip through the Izdrel to the herder’s village goes off without any problems. Simban makes the purchase of the gorgeous, white skinned, raven haired Rubalsa, and the group departs at dawn from the village on the following day back to the capitol city of Faraad. By mid-day on their first day’s journey, the four travelers’ luck runs out. They are besieged on the footpath across the wastes by a fast moving, great storm of darkness that blots out their surroundings, leaving them trapped in a small circular clearing amidst a sea of pitch. From the black mass emerges a cacophony of mailed soldiers on the march, the hissing of many colossal serpents, the notes of many discordant instruments and formless figures are glimpsed churning about. The storm is guiding them with some intent, away from their path back to civilization. At one point “it seemed that great fiery eyes glared out of the gloom, floating close to earth or moving aloft at a gigantic height.” Zobal lets fly enchanted arrows at this beast to no avail. For his trouble, all he gets is an “appalling outburst of Satanic laughters and ululations.”

Faced with this no win situation, the warriors come to grips with the fact that their small party is more than likely doomed. The supernatural storm that has been harrying them for the duration of the day suddenly winks out of existence, leaving the travelers far from their intended course. Dusk is quickly fading into night. Out of the gloom, a dark figure holding a horn lantern is fast approaching the group. Behind the figure in the distance looms a large square structure, its windows throwing off illumination. This is the titular abbot of the story. Ujuk is a heavy set dark skinned man, wrapped in saffron robes, wearing a horned hat of station upon his head. Once he introduces himself as the head abbot of the monastery of Puthuum, Ujuk begrudgingly convinces the group to let him provide food and lodging for the night. But the two warriors are suspicious of the dark monk’s hospitality. Upon closer inspection it becomes evident that the abbot is not an entirely human entity. “The black man grinned capaciously, showing rows of discolored teeth whose incisors were those of a wild dog.” A disturbing image, to be sure, within and outside the context of the story. Add to this the fact that the abbot has curved talon-like nails on both his hands and feet, well, let’s just say that the two companions’ suspicions are a little more than piqued. The four travelers stay the night in the monastery, where they encounter servant monks who closely resemble the abbot; with the marked difference that these monks cast no shadow. Once the group enters the monastery, the story begins to pick up steam. What sinister plans does the abbot have in store for the travelers? Will the group make it out alive and return to Faraad? I’d rather not spoil it for you. This title is readily available both in print and in digital format collections. For a free version of this story, check out the online repository of Smith’s work at www.eldritchdark.com. “The Black Abbot of Puthuum” is a fine example of golden age pulp sword and sorcery, teeming with sinister magic, deeds of valor, ancient mummies, and a beautiful damsel in need of rescuing.