Featuring Conan the Barbarian, this story first appeared in Weird Tales, March 1935.
a vague uneasiness stirring at the back of his mind. The arts that preserved the body should not have affected the garments. Yet there they were -- gold breast-plates set with concentric circles of small gems, gilded sandals, and a short silken skirt upheld by a jeweled girdle. Neither cloth nor metal showed any signs of decay.
Yelaya was coldly beautiful, even in death. Her body was like alabaster, slender yet voluptuous; a great crimson jewel gleamed against the darkly piled foam of her hair.
Conan stood frowning down at her, and then tapped the dais with his sword. Possibilities of a hollow containing the treasure occurred to him, but the dais rang solid. He turned and paced the chamber in some indecision. Where should he search first, in the limited time at his disposal? The priest he had overheard babbling to a courtesan had said the treasure was hidden in the palace. But that included a space of considerable vastness. He wondered if he should hide himself until the priests had come and gon
A good Conan short story/novelette, with clear writing, nice plot twists, and an inevitable bloodbath at the end.
He's trying to steal the sacred jewels of Keshia, and badguys keep coming out of the woodwork.
I recommend it to pulp fans; it's better than most similar stuff.
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