Conan The Freelance (10 page)

She much looked forward to the task.

Things were not going according to Kleg’s plan.

First, the lizard men had not bothered to send a line across the river with a swimmer. Well, all right, that was no great problem. If they built enough rafts to carry all their troops, or didn’t mind following the raft downstream to return it for another crossing, so much the better. That would take even more time.

But instead of starting to fell, trees, the lizards had begun to unpack things from several large containers they carried. Tents, perhaps? Were they planning on being here long enough to require a camp?

From his hidden vantage point across the wide river, Kleg smiled. Even better. He was practically home free—

Wait. What were they doing now?

A dozen of the lizards scurried about, each carrying what looked like bellows. What … ?

As Kleg watched, the lizards began pumping air into the tents-no, not tents, but some kind of large skin bags. These were sewn in such a way that they inflated easily, forming oblong if somewhat squashed-looking eggs ….

Floats. They weren’t going to make a raft, they planned to cross the river on these skin bags!

Kleg’s moment of panic quickly passed. Well, so they had floats; it mattered not. So much the better. His selkies would have less problems with these than with a wooden raft. One pass, one bite, and the floats would pop like foam bubbles!

Kleg had to see this. It would be a slaughter, truly.

It was but a matter of minutes before a dozen of the floats were fully inflated and made ready. Eight or nine lizards gathered around each float and hustled it to the water’s edge. Kleg’s anticipation grew. Ah, to be in the water and enjoying the feast himself!

But the lizards did not launch the floats as expected. Instead, one of them passed along the line of troops, carrying a large earthen pot. The lizards began to dip the tips of their throwing darts into the pot. Some kind of ritual?

Kleg’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

The short spears came out of the pot with their tips a smoldering red that glistened in the daylight.

Poison!

The lizards started their crossing, and while three or four of them on each float wielded paddles, the other four or five stood with their dart slingers held high, watching the water!

Kleg stared. Upstream, the scout would have given the word to the dozen selkies, who by now would be in the river and moving to attack. The angle of a Changed selkie’s jaws would require that they roll onto their backs to bite the floats, exposing their bellies! The floats rode high in the water, so the selkies would be close to the surface when they came for the floats.

Kleg knew he should run, should gain as much time as possible, but he was frozen in place, watching.

The first float into the water began to drift rapidly downstream as it gained a little in the crossing. The lizards began to hurl their poisoned spears, yelling as they did so.

The float deflated suddenly and the lizards screamed as they fell into the water, but Kleg recognized the thrashing forms of three of his dozen selkies in their death throes, spears sticking out of their poison-maddened bodies.

More floats began the crossing. More darts were thrown. Some of the lizards went down as their floats were deflated, but most did not.

Kleg managed to find his feet. At least a third of the lizards would finish the crossing, and all or nearly all of his selkies would sleep with the fishes when it was over.

Kleg had miscalculated. They were only minutes behind him now.

He ran for his life.

Conan awoke feeling somewhat refreshed, to find the boy Hok staring nervously at him. He sought to put the boy at ease.

“Fear not,” Conan said. “I have a plan.”

Hok’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Aye. When the lizard men come for us, they will open the door and we shall pretend to be docile. Once out, I shall overcome them and thus we shall make good our escape.”

The boy stared. His mouth gaped. “That is your plan?”

“Simple, is it not?”

“Simple-minded, more like.”

“I am open to other suggestions,” Conan said, feeling somewhat irritated at Hok.

“Why do we not turn into birds and fly away? Or maybe squirrels? That is as likely to happen as your plan.”

“For such a small boy you seem to be burdened with more than your share of tongue, Hok.”

“For such a large man, your wit seems rather small-“

“Shhh. Someone comes.”

Hok stilled his voice at the sound of approaching footsteps on the stone floor.

It was the queen, and she was alone.

“I have come to invite you to my chamber, Conan my stalwart.”

“Gladly I accept,” Conan said. “If you would but open the door.”

“Oh, to be sure, I shall open it wide for you,” she said.

Conan did not have to fake his smile. This was going to be almost too easy.

The Queen of the Pili raised her right hand, closed into a loose fist. “But first a small guarantee of your cooperation.” With that, she opened her hand and flung into Conan’s face some kind of powder.

Before he could stop himself, Conan sucked in a quick breath. He sneezed and tried to cough the powder from his lungs, but it was too late. As his consciousness faded, taken from him by the dust the queen had thrown, Conan had time for a final thought:

Perhaps he was going to have a harder time of this than he had thought:.

When next Conan awoke, he found himself lying on silken cushions next to the Queen of Pili. He, like she, was altogether naked. And he was feeling rather tired.

The queen smiled at him. “Ah, my stalwart man arises yet again.”

Conan stared at her. His thoughts were muddled. She had drugged him, he recalled. And she must have had him taken to her chambers.

“You have been magnificent,” she said, touched his shoulder with her fingertips. “None has ever done better.”

“I have done nothing,” Conan managed.

“You are too modest. Surely you recall?”

“I recall you flinging a powder into my face.”

“And nothing since? Ah, if that was how you behaved when asleep, I cannot help but wonder how much better you shall do when awake!”

Conan shook his head, trying to clear it. What was she talking about?

The queen then rolled toward him, and showed him exactly what she meant.

Kleg called for the curses of ten thousand gods to fall upon the lizard men, but he had no intention of stopping to see if the imprecation worked. At first he thought to hide, that surely a single selkie would be more difficult to find than a dozen, but given the unknown tracking abilities of the lizards, he decided not to chance it. No, speed would be his best ally. One selkie could certainly move as fast as a troop of lizards, especially given that the lizards sought only booty, while the selkie ran for his skin.

Kleg wove his way through the thick forest as the day wore down to night, and while he saved his breath for his physical efforts, his mind continued to conjure up curses against his chasers.

Conan arose from the queen’s bed, not a little tired himself, and found his clothes. The effects of the drug had long since worn off, but the queen finally slept.

He found his sword under a cushion that had been thrown. across the room earlier. Likely there were guards posted without, but obviously they had been instructed not to enter the chamber unless specifically called upon to do so; had mere noise been the signal, they would have burst in on Conan and the queen half a dozen times already.

Conan grinned. He could not say that his visit with the lizard woman had been unpleasant; indeed, he found it most difficult to think of her as other than a human woman, given her actions thus far.

Conan stuck his head through the chamber’s opening. There were two guards, one on either side of the door. Softly, the Cimmerian said, “Hark, the queen wishes to convey a message.” His voice was little more than a confidential whisper.

The two guards looked at each other, then back at Conan.

Conan waved them closer, grinning like a conspirator.

The two grinned, doubtless thinking themselves men of the world, and leaned toward Conan.

The Cimmerian grabbed each guard by the neck and slammed their heads together, hard. There came a sound like a gourd dropped on stone. When he released the guards, they fell like pole-axed oxen.

Conan hurried down the hallway to fetch Hok.

When Thayla awoke, she did so smiling. Who would have thought … ?

Where was he?

She sat up abruptly. Conan was gone! How had he gotten out?

“Guards! To me!”

Nothing happened. Thayla leaped up and ran to the doorway.

The two guards lay sprawled on the cavern floor unconscious.

By the Great Dragon!

“To arms!” Thayla screamed. She had to find him, and quickly. It would not do to have a human running around who might speak of his actions with the Queen of the Pili, especially when such speech might reach the wrong ears.

Her husband’s ears.

“To arms! “

Conan ran across the desert to the east, the boy Hok next to him.

“But how did you escape?” Hok asked. “Did you smite the queen with your sword?”

“Save your breath for running, boy.”

“It takes no breath to listen.”

“Ask your sister when you see her. Better still, ask your brother, Tair.”

If he continued moving through the night, Kleg would reach the village of Karatas on the Home Lake early the next day. Once there, he would be safe, for although the village was peopled largely by humans, there were also others of his own kind here and there, and all paid obeisance to He Who Creates. Once he reached the Sargasso, he could Change and wend his way through the weed paths to the underwater castle entrance, the talisman held safely in his teeth. There were creatures in the weed who would challenge even a Changed selkie, but not many, and none who could catch one in open water. Yes. A few more hours and he would be in the clear.

As darkness painted the earth with her colors of gray and black, Kleg ran, calling on all his strength and speed. He could rest when he got home; to tarry now would mean death.

When it was determined that Conan and the human boy were nowhere to be found inside the caves, Thayla assembled a dozen of the remaining males into a tracking force.

“We must find the escaped man and boy,” she said. “It is most important.”

Some of the males snickered at this, but Thayla cut their laughter short with a baleful stare. “Should they not be caught, I shall explain to the king that you allowed them to escape.

The dozen young males became serious. She knew what they would be thinking: whatever else happened, she was the queen, and she had the king firmly gripped where a male was most sensitive. If it came to it, whom was he more likely to believe?

Very serious indeed.

“I shall lead this expedition myself,” she said. Thayla allowed a moment for this to sink in, a female leading males, but if there were any objections, no one voiced them. She could not trust them to return and tell her that Conan had been slain; she had to see it for herself.

“Let us depart, then,” the Queen of the Pili said.

And depart they did.

Deep in his strong room, Dimma had a sudden premonition. His Prime servant was somehow in danger.

Dimma willed himself toward the door. He could move slowly in this fashion, though even a stray breeze could divert him. He felt that if Kleg were dead, he would know it, and it did not seem that such was the case; still, if Kleg had obtained the prize he sought, he must return with it. To that end, Dimma could send other of his thralls to ensure that if Kleg had collected the magic Seed, he would be certain to finish the remainder of his journey, albeit he might not be alive to do it. The life of one selkie meant nothing, even if the selkie did happen to be the Prime. There were always others who could be elevated to that position.

All who served Dimma knew the penalty for failure and it would not do to allow any to forget it, even for an instant. One could not have too many examples made to remind all of such things. If Kleg had failed, whatever remained of his corpse would be hung where all could see. If he accomplished his labor, then he would be sent to the deep with honor, his reputation secure. What else could he wish for other than the thanks of his god?

Conan and Hok had not run far when they noticed pursuit.’ Conan made to draw his sword, then stopped.

“Hold here,” the Cimmerian said.

A party of about ten figures came toward them, and as they drew nearer, Hok’s face broke into a wide smile.

“Cheen!”

Indeed, as Conan had seen, the followers were of the Tree Folk.

A few moments later, the group arrived. Cheen hugged her brother, and there were smiles all around.

Cheen clasped Conan tightly. “Thank you, Conan, for saving my brother!”

Despite his recent encounter with the lizard queen, Conan felt himself warm to Cheen’s embrace. Conan’s own arms seemed to surround the woman unbidden by thought.

Cheen moved from Conan’s embrace to look up into his face. “We were trying to devise a way into the Pili’s mound when we saw you and Hok flee. How did you manage it?”

“The queen took him away,” the boy said before Conan could speak. “He won’t tell me how he did it, but they were gone a long time and-“

“I shall explain it all later;” Conan interrupted hastily. “Now it would be best if we departed.”

Cheen gave him a doubtful look, then finally nodded. “Aye. Tair and the rest continued following the selkies’ trail. They’ll want our help.”

“And the lizard men might field pursuit,” Conan said.

“We have achieved half our goal,” Cheen said. She ruffled Hok’s hair. “I am glad to see you, little brother.”

They started off.

Kleg continued moving through the night and it was well that he did so, for he was never more than half an hour in front of his pursuers. He could not be certain that they even knew he existed, but a search of the dead selkies would not have revealed the talisman; doubtless the lizard men continued to follow, still seeking that same item.