The fight in Doom's pleasure pavilion

The fight in Doom's pleasure pavilion is the story's central trial by fire, the moment when Conan, having infiltrated the Mountain of Power to rescue Princess Yasimina, meets his old tormentor Rexor in a burning pleasure garden and reclaims the great sword his father forged. It is a battle fought on two fronts at once: against the iron of Rexor's blade and the collapsing architecture of Doom's fantastic lair, and against the treachery of Yasimina, who sides with her captor rather than her rescuers. The scene gathers every thread of Conan's long ordeal — the stolen sword, the crucifixion on the Tree of Woe, the death of his father — and resolves them in a single roaring chamber of flame, smoke, and falling stone.

Setting and the Approach to Battle

The pavilion is no ordinary hall but a "fairyland created for lovers and their beloved," a pleasure garden within the Mountain of Power where Doom keeps his captives and indulges his appetites. When Conan and Valeria reach it, the room is already in chaos: the curtains smoulder, smoke rolls through the once-lovely space, and the incessant drums from the cavern below throb beneath the screams of panic. Conan, searching the incandescent room for Thulsa Doom, finds no trace of the wizard, who seems to have vanished like the serpent-god he worships. Instead, near the narrow stairs up which the invaders came, stands Valeria with the distraught and trembling Yasimina at her feet, the princess's furtive glances betraying a frantic search for escape.

It is Yasimina who triggers the violence. A tight little smile flits across her sullen lips, vanishing like a firefly — but to Valeria, trained as a Pit fighter, it flashes a warning of trouble to come. She hears the scrape of boots on the stairs, faint above the drums and screams, and whirls to face an enormous warrior clad in iron-studded leather. Though not young, his face is as grim as death, and the muscles of his sword arm look as strong as bands of steel. He is flanked by four hairy guards carrying spiked wooden clubs, menace glowing in their bestial eyes. "Rexor!" trills Princess Yasimina. "Rexor, save me! Save me for our Master who loves me!"

Valeria's Duel with the Guards

Before Conan can intervene, Valeria takes the fight to the enemy. Kneeing the princess to the floor, she crouches to avoid a blow from a guardsman's mace, then springs with lightning speed. Her tulwar licks out, and death is on its point: the guard staggers and clutches his throat, whence blood spurts between his hairy fingers. Leaping, twisting, dodging, she circles the guards, avoiding blows that would have smashed her like an insect. A second guard lumbers forward, snarling, but the lithe girl feints and thrusts into the opening between the leathern plates of his armour; the anthropoid grunts, clutches his torn belly, and collapses. Her blade, now crimson-stained, catches another in the neck; shrieking horribly, he rushes forward, and Valeria jumps aside, letting his momentum carry him into a burning drapery in the centre of the room.

But then Rexor and the remaining guard close in on her, backing her into a corner. She knows she is boxed in, soon to be denied the speed that is the basis of her success. Just then Conan, like a stalking jungle beast, glides between two blazing draperies, his father's great sword held in two bronze fists. The beast-man turns at the Cimmerian's approach, but Conan's heavy sword shears through his armour and drops him to his knees with a split skull.

Conan versus Rexor

As Valeria moves toward Doom's first lieutenant, Conan roars: "There goes the princess! Catch her! Leave Rexor to me!" The giant's eyes flash red at the sight of the young Cimmerian. He had left Conan broken and hung on the Tree of Woe; now he is whole and hale. But Rexor has no time to ponder the miracle; the great sword clenched in Conan's hands is upraised for a mighty down stroke. Two blades clash together with the fury of a tempest. A shower of sparks signals a ringing crash as Rexor's weapon, responding to the impact of Atlantean steel on lesser iron, clatters on the marble floor. Rexor hurls his hilt at Conan's head; as the Cimmerian ducks, the cultist warrior springs forward and wraps unrelenting arms around his huge antagonist.

Conan drops his father's sword, useless at such close quarters, and meets his opponent's wrestling grip with undiminished strength. The two giants stagger about the burning room, unmindful of the smoke and flames, their powerful thews swelling as they match two wills of iron. Relentlessly they claw and gouge and kick at one another. When at last Rexor grips Conan's throat, his massive fingers bite like the jaws of a steel trap into the Cimmerian's corded neck. Conan, fighting for life-giving air, manages to pry one gross finger loose and bend it back until the bone cracks. With a howl of pain and fury, Rexor releases his grasp and hurls the younger man against the central pillar.

The Reclamation of the Sword and Rexor's End

While Conan, half stunned, sags against the malachite column struggling to gather his wits, Rexor stoops for the great sword forged by the Cimmerian's father so long ago. Just then one of the leopards, maddened by the fire and smoke, snaps the chain that binds it to the pillar, pounces on Rexor's back, and bears him to the ground. The stricken man fights in vain against the sharp claws of the animal. At length he falls screaming to the pave, while the frantic cat leaps away, its broken chain clattering along the marble tiles as it makes its way to safety.

Conan, head spinning, gets to his feet. Rexor lies sprawled in a pool of blood, the great sword beyond his convulsive grasp. Recovering the weapon, the Cimmerian youth searches through the pervasive smoke for Valeria and the princess. He sees the girl-thief back among the charred draperies striving to control their unwilling captive. As he starts forward, an ominous creaking above his head causes him to glance up. The supports of the pavilion, along which little flames run like luminous mice, have begun to crumble; one beam, then another, falls. The stone column upon which the roof pole rests cracks, spilling broken bits of stone across the polished floor.

Pausing no longer, the barbarian rushes to Valeria's aid. Yasimina is struggling to flee and, despite her skill and determination, Valeria's strength is fading. As Conan reaches his exhausted comrade-in-arms, the roar of collapsing masonry resounds through the fast-emptying chamber. The malachite pillar gives way and topples, pinning Rexor to the ground, while crumpled tent cloth, half-burned beams, and broken roof tiles nearly entomb the fallen man. The spectacular collapse distracts Valeria; in that single moment, Yasimina wrenches her arms free and speeds away. The Cimmerian springs after her, catches her in a few long strides, and whirls her around — but the besotted girl, screeching imprecations, claws at his face.

Aftermath and Significance

The fight in the pleasure pavilion is the physical and symbolic climax of Conan's quest. It is here that he reclaims the Atlantean sword his father forged, the weapon that had been taken from him when he was left broken on the Tree of Woe; it is here that Rexor, the lieutenant who had nailed him to that tree, meets his end, crushed by the very architecture of his master's lair. The battle also exposes the limits of Valeria's strength and the depth of Yasimina's corruption: the princess, who should have been rescued, instead betrays her rescuers at every turn, choosing Doom's love over freedom. The scene prefigures the final confrontation with Thulsa Doom himself, where Conan will again wield his father's sword and where the lesson of the pavilion — that steel is nothing compared to the hand that wields it — will find its ultimate expression. The burning pavilion, with its leopards, its malachite columns, and its collapsing roof, stands as the last great stronghold of Doom's power before the open field of the Burial Mounds, where the true war will be fought.