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Zulu
After the ocean swallowed Atlantis,
and before recorded history,
there was an age when mythical kingdoms
spread across an uncharted world.
This was the age of Conan.
Enslaved as a boy, Conan grew into a warrior.
He escaped to encounter mystery, magic, and myth,
while forever facing the ultimate master of sorcery.
Lover, friend, hero.
His destiny was to free the oppressed
and become a king by his own hand.
Conan.
Get movin'!
Go on, you, too.
I said move!
Over here, come on!
- Come on! - Come on!
Hold him fast.
Look!
Conan!
- Don't let him! - Don't let him!
Conan!
Conan!
- Go! - Move it!
Spare the boy!
Finished with you.
That was one of your imitation rubies
which you have been working on.
It's not quite yet perfected.
I meant no harm, oh great one.
Your entire existence is an insult.
Distressed, how could I be distressed?
Today is the most glorious day of my life.
Come here, you bastard.
Look at the nooses.
What about them?
They're not hangman's knots, just rope loops.
They hang us, we'll be just as dead.
Without hangman's knots, it won't break your neck.
Just strangle ya slowly.
Hey, shut up!
Hold it there.
I'm talking to you.
Conan is about to die.
Witness and rejoice.
Indeed, Conan's death is an event
devoutly to be wished, magnificent one.
However, there is a matter of significant urgency
that needs your immediate attention.
The heavens are in a terrible state over astral anxiety.
Oh, silence.
The heavens can wait!
Conan is about to have his neck stretched.
Look.
Come here, dog.
What do you want from me?
Hang him!
Bayu!
Zzeben!
No, no, no!
Incompetent cannibals.
Never get anything right.
You would do better to place your trust with vegetarians.
Another insolent word from you and I'll have your tongue.
You have it already, master.
I am able to speak only through the power of your magic
and the grace of your benevolence, sire.
This man is like an eel.
Just when I have him in my grasp,
he slips through my fingers.
Conan simply lives to die another day.
A fortuitous day that you will call your own.
But on this day, benevolent one,
the stars beckon, attention must be paid to their call.
All right.
What is this astrological holus-bolus you keep clanking
your insufferable jaws about?
An astral phenomenon.
A star has left its ash burnt.
And why should a wandering star in
a universe filled with stars be of any interest to me?
It heralds the birth of a child, sire.
A birth foretold by a wandering star?
Yes, master.
What does the birth of the child,
who can alter the course of the stars, have to do with me?
Holy emissaries dispatched to greet the child,
to guide it to the master's siege.
The mother-to-be, Mirimane.
She is the mother of your doom.
Yes, to my doom.
She carries in her womb the means to the great beginning.
The great beginning of what?
The end of evil, master.
The end of all sorcery.
A savior, sire.
That child must never
be born.
There's a storm coming.
There's a village over those hills.
We can find shelter there.
It will be wiser to keep moving.
I agree.
Seeing the last of this Wiccas province
won't be soon enough.
Greetings, Cimmerian.
Sheath your sword, Conan.
We are men of peace.
Men of peace do not use sorcery.
We are not sorcerers.
We are sworn to a vow of silence.
This is how we communicate.
What do you want of us?
A child not yet born
is going to need your protection.
He is in grave danger.
His birth is preordained and will benefit all mankind.
He is the predecessor of the one great god to come.
I serve no god but Crom.
With honor, as you should.
In time beyond all time, men will serve the one great god.
But what is this danger you speak of?
The mother-to-be travels this way with a caravan.
A powerful wizard has vowed to kill her and the child.
Who is this wizard?
Hissah Zul.
We have no time to lose!
We must find that caravan.
This road is the property of Hissah Zul.
Failure to pay tribute will cost you your heads.
Sinjin!
Magnificent one.
I am honored.
A caravan is headed for the province of the white keys.
Intersect it, destroy it, leave no one alive.
Your wish is my service.
Waste no further time with these miserable pustules.
Make haste, now!
Steady.
Look!
Hissah Zul.
Oh no.
We're too late.
We're too late.
Who are you?
Do not be afraid.
We are friends.
Zzeben will take of your wound.
The baby, it's coming.
Do not worry, we are going to help you!
We are?
Yes we are!
Let's make a tent over this wagon.
Well?
The baby's coming.
Don't look at me, I am not going in there.
We have to do something.
He says she's gonna die and there's nothing
we can do about that.
I know we can save it.
If we make a mistake we can kill the baby.
If we don't try, it will die.
What do we know about birthing?
Has any of you fathered children?
I was never around the finish.
Zzeben!
Zzeben, you have delivered fillies, colts, sheep, puppies!
You've delivered puppies!
But not babies.
Babies?
You see, no babies.
Otli?
Uh.
Well, virility is my strong suit,
but I've never actually birthed a baby.
Birthing babies is the job of midwives.
I do know this about midwives,
they always need a lot of hot water,
they make a big fuss about hot water.
I don't know, maybe it's for a tea.
Uh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!
Cloth and linens, and oh, they use a lot of cloth,
- I don't know. - Cloth, right.
And then they run around like time is standing still.
It is settled.
You and Zzeben have great experience.
You take care of the mother, I get the hot water.
I get the cloth.
Oh, oh, oh, yeah, yeah.
How do we know that she's actually gonna have the baby?
I mean, she could be delusional from the wounds.
There's your answer.
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Oh yeah!
Hot water!
Oh my!
We need more blankets.
Blankets, blankets.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!
Oh yeah!
Oh, we need more water!
Water.
No.
Hey, where's the cloth?
Get the cloth!
- What cloth? - The cloth!
Cloth, cloth, cloth!
What's taking so long on that water?
It's coming, it's coming.
Oh, oh!
So is the baby!
Hot water.
Oh, good, and bring some ale!
What do you think?
Why does she need ale?
For me, stupid!
Oh my!
It's a boy.
A boy, a boy!
It's a boy, it's a boy!
I don't know how
to thank you.
There is no need, miss, uh, madam, lady.
Your ladyship.
What are your names?
I am Conan.
My name is Otli.
And I am Bayu, at your service, madam.
Oh, this is Zzeben.
He's mute.
And I am Mirimane.
I want you all.
I'd like each of you to be my son's godfathers.
We would be honored.
You must protect him.
He is in great danger.
That is why we are here.
Promise me you will guard him with your life.
We promise.
Where do you want us to take him?
To the place of the holy circle.
With this, I charge you.
The future good of mankind depends on it.
The holy circle?
We do not know of such a place.
It is to the east.
You'll know it when you see it.
Oh, my beautiful son.
Do not grieve for me, my little one.
I will take my love for you to the grave.
Where it will endure.
Steady.
The child was born.
I do not tolerate failure.
If it is alive at the next sunrise,
you, Sinjin, shall suffer a death
that will be talked about for millennia to come!
Let's go!
What shall we name the baby?
Well, Zzeben and I delivered the baby,
we are its proper godfathers,
I think we should call it Little Otli.
Oh, right.
I'm sorry, of course.
Otli Zzeben, I think it has a nice ring to it.
Not so fast.
I, too, am a proper godfather.
I supplied the cloth.
Ha, without my hot water, he wouldn't have made it.
He will be called Conan II.
He shall be called Little Bayu.
Wait a minute, Little Otli Zzeben.
Zzeben Otli...
All right!
He shall have all four names.
A wise decision.
But in what sequence?
We'll draw for it.
Let me get a stick.
Now that is a good idea.
Keep an eye on him, he cheats.
No looking now.
Otli, if you cheated on me.
I swear, my hand never moved, I held them tight.
It was a fair draw.
The child's name is Zzeben Bayu Otli Conan.
He needs something to wear besides these clothes.
I mean right now.
A mother makes certain preparations.
She makes clothing and uh, other necessities.
Little Otli needs a bath.
Why?
Little Conan looks clean to me.
It's the first thing midwives do.
The first thing I would do is eat.
And Little Bayu must eat.
But, since the mother's dead, we have a problem.
Oh, oh, and they need to be oiled up.
Oiled up, why?
It's another one of those things that the midwives do.
We are not midwives, we are godfathers.
You're not holding him right!
I will not work with him on his stomach.
I'll turn him around.
That's too tight.
It's not too tight.
That's too tight!
Get your hand out of there, and you too, Zzeben!
- Careful! - Don't hurt him.
I'm not going to hurt him.
He can't move.
I'll make him some room.
You are not tying a knot in your shield.
It serves the same purpose.
There!
Ah, here you are, little man.
You're ready for your journey!
Little Otli's dinner.
Come on, goat.
This is the last of the water.
We used most of it when Little Bayu was born.
We'll use it for Conan II and the horses.
Agreed?
Now, uh, how are we supposed to find this holy circle
when we don't know where it is?
She said we would know it when we found it.
But which direction?
I know of no place from here to sea called the holy circle.
She said the east.
East?
That's back where we came from.
That's the Wicca's province.
She said east, we ride east.
We'll never get through the Wiccas alive.
We're dead.
Zzeben, don't forget the goat.
Come on.
What's wrong with Little Conan?
We don't know.
Give him some goat's milk.
It's probably sour.
A goat does not make sour fresh milk.
This one does.
You've been holding him long enough, now it's my turn.
Cover his head.
Whoa, whoa!
Ya!
Come on.
We are warriors, Conan.
We do not know how to care for or feed a baby.
We are learning.
And what if he gets sick and dies?
I will not let that happen.
We are getting closer to the Wiccas.
If we enter their province, their territory,
we will be outnumbered and at their mercy.
What would you do?
Find a village, perhaps an orphanage.
Find someone who will take care of him.
He will be safe, he will grow to be a strong warrior.
We cannot give Zzeben Bayu Otli Conan
to a perfect stranger.
He's a holy child.
How do we know he's a holy child?
Shall we take the word of three monks
running from Hissah Zul?
I will not break my promise to a dying woman.
Hurry up, Otli.
I got it.
Our godson is thirsty.
Hurry, Otli!
Stop!
The water is poison.
Hissah Zul.
We are here.
We pass a mountain range.
Here's another water hole.
That's deeper into the Wicca's territory.
Doesn't matter where it is.
We must get there soon, or our godson will die.
Are you gonna make it?
Yeah.
I know it will be a long way, but we have to do it.
Otli, stop.
Where'd it go?
I saw it.
I swear I saw water.
Take, take Little Otli to the water.
There's no water, Otli.
Only sorcery.
I saw water.
I saw.
Just leave me, just leave me.
No, just.
Just...
Whoa, steady.
No, move!
Get him over.
Sit him up.
Sit him up.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
You, Otli, Zzeben.
I thought I'd lost you.
You almost did, my friend.
We were this close to death, about to fall into the abyss.
And then she came along.
Karella.
How'd you find us?
You're gonna think I'm crazy,
but an old man came to me in a vision.
Holy man.
Told me to come the find the land of the Wicca's.
Find Conan, that Hissah Zul's men were finally
going to kill him.
And then he mentioned a holy child.
My godson.
Our godson.
His name is Zzeben Bayu Otli Conan.
Conan's a godfather?
Well, we're all godfathers.
We're supposed to deliver this godson to the holy circle.
We must hurry.
Conan and our godson are in great danger from the Wiccas.
Hissah Zul's men were just through here.
They're closing in on Conan.
Let's go.
Here's some more water!
Whoa, a rider's coming.
I'll help him!
- I said no, I said no. - One, I'll take one.
This is no place for babies!
Well go on, sit down.
Bring him over here.
What do you want?
Milk.
Milk?
Milk!
Milk for Zzeben Bayu Otli Conan.
Right now.
Okay, milk, milk, milk, milk!
- There he goes. - That's it.
Milk, all that he wants to have.
But isn't he a big boy.
Aw, cutie.
Little Conan and I are looking for a place
called the Holy Circle.
Have you heard about it?
- Holy circle? - Not around here.
- Not me. - No, no, no, no.
Probably you're thinking about the ruins in the woods.
You remember, those ruins up in the woods,
that's what he's talking about.
- Yes. - It's got to be.
Everyone!
I will have the child.
Never.
Conan!
Attack formation!
No!
Conan!
You're.
You're hurt.
Little Conan is more important.
Zzeben!
We must burn it, otherwise you're gonna bleed to death.
Have faith, remove the arrow.
Cimmerian, we will take the child now.
To where?
For what?
To teach so he may learn the languages
and words of all the people of the earth.
To a secret place, away from Hissah Zul
and the sorcerers who would seek to destroy him.
He is the bloodline of an eventual savior.
Are you saying he's Crom?
He is the Crom of future generations.
He will give life for centuries after you are gone.
All mankind will eventually be blessed
by the deed you have accomplished in bringing him to safety.
And you will keep him in safety?
If you are needed, we will call upon you.
I will be ready.
We all will.
Your deed will be remembered.
All of you godfathers and godmother.
There's one great future god.
Could be a really good thing.
You should give up thievery.
You might make a good mother.
Are you proposing?
Not that fast, Karella.
You should give up the life of the sword.
You might make a good father.
Surely not after my plans right now.
Why not?
They are the footprints one leaves in the sand.
If a man dies by the sword, he will be well remembered.
This arrow nearly killed you.
It was a miracle.
It was bad marksmanship.
Can I have it?
Of course you can have it.
Thank you.
It saved your life.
Thank you, Karella.
But I think my godson saved my life.
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