Conan The Freelance (9 page)

She moved into the corridor outside her sleeping chamber—

Just in time to see a human pass by on the cross hall.

Thayla froze. He had not seen her, she was sure.

A man? Inside the caves? How? Thayla started to raise the alarm, but stopped. Perhaps she was imagining things. Perhaps her desire had clouded her vision, and her mind was creating phantoms in the corridors. She smiled ruefully. Aye, it could be. And she could imagine her embarrassment if she roused the Pili only to be told they could not locate her dream.

Thayla walked toward the cross hall, stepped out into it, and looked for her dream man, expecting to see emptiness.

There he was. He rounded a turning as she watched, unaware of her.

She shook her head. She could smell that musky odor men had, could plainly see that impossibly broad and muscular body, could hear the shuffle of leather sandals on the stone floor. No, this was no dream, he was real! The largest one of his kind she had ever seen, wide shoulders and thick arms and legs and long, dark fur upon his head.

Thayla felt herself quivering. What was he doing here?

She began to follow him. It did not matter what he was doing here, she decided. The Gods had smiled upon her and granted her wish. Even if this were a dream, she meant to enjoy it to the fullest.

Conan felt a chill, and he stopped and looked around carefully. No one was apparent. Thus far, he had passed chambers in which sleeping Pili had lain, but he had not found Hok.

He moved deeper into the mound, searching.

Thayla went into a sleeping chamber and roused one of the young Pili males who had more muscle than brains.

“My queen!”

“Silence. Come with me.”

The male obeyed.

Around a series of turnings Conan went. The entrance to a large chamber beckoned. He entered.

There against one wall stood a cage, and in it was the sleeping form of the boy Hok.

Conan moved toward the cage. Finally.

The door to the cage was bolted shut with a complex series of levers that could not be reached from within, but which Conan could work easily enough from without. He moved toward the throw lever. Best not to wake the boy yet, he decided, lest he cry out in surprise.

“Stand there,” Thayla ordered the young male. “Here, take this.” She handed him a long, wrist-thick pole normally used to knock nesting bats from the ceiling.

Then the Queen of the Pili moved to stand in the entrance to the jail chamber.

“Ho, man,” she said.

At the sound of a soft voice, Conan spun and drew his sword.

Standing in the dim corridor’s light was a woman. She was bald and wearing some flimsy wrap. Even as he watched, she shrugged the covering off. The wrap formed a pool around her feet and she stood there naked.

Conan stared. Bald she might be, but she did not lack any of the usual curves of a woman. Her breasts were heavy and full, her hips wide and promising, her arms outstretched as if in invitation. She might be a Pili, but she was no less comely for that. Conan had seen few women who had more to offer than did this one.

The woman-no, the Pili-smiled at him.

“Come,” she said. “I have something for you.” She ran one hand down her hip, then back up to touch her breast.

Well, he was not so foolish as to dally with a woman in the midst of an enemy camp, but he had best ensure her silence. Conan moved quickly to catch the woman as she turned and began to walk out of his sight.

She was only two spans distant when he entered the corridor, moving directly away from him, and he was taken with the lush shape of her back and buttocks and legs

And then the world suddenly flashed red with pain and dwindled to black around him.

NINE

The selkies were nearly ready to leave when the rear guard came ‘running into the camp. “Prime! The lizard men come!”

Kleg grabbed the panting selkie by the shoulders. “What foolishness is this?”

The selkie managed to catch his breath. “An army of them, Prime, thousands!”

“Idiot! The Pili do not number in the thousands!”

“Hundreds, then.”

“Somebody put a spear. through this babbling fool.”

“Dozens, Prime, I swear on my birth egg!”

“Show me.”

A quick ascent of one of the nearby hills and Kleg stood next to the scout looking into the distance.

Well, by the balls of He Who Creates, the scout was right. There had to be at least seven or eight dozen of the lizard men, along with those toothed reptiles they used as hunting beasts, marching directly along the trail the selkies had traveled a day earlier. What were they up to, these Pili? This was certainly a war party, and there were no settlements between the Pili and the village of Karatas on the lip of the Home Lake. True, the lizard men could be going to try and sack Karatas, but that was unlikely, the village being surrounded on three sides by a tall and well-defended palisade, with the Sargasso at its back. No, these lizard men likely had something else in mind, and Kleg had a premonition that he knew what it was: his own party. Such a thing did not bode well for the much smaller group of selkies. But why? They had nothing the lizard men could possibly want, nothing of value ….

Kleg slapped his head with the heel of his hand in sudden realization: the talisman! And how had they found out about it? Why, Kleg, Prime servant of He Who Creates, supposedly the most clever of the selkies, had practically told them-he had given them that blasted man child, who had no doubt talked before he was consumed. The boy, had seen Kleg take the damned thing. Blast!

Kleg turned and scurried down the hill, the scout behind him. The lizard men were no faster on land than were the selkies. They were at least an hour behind, and if they left immediately, Kleg and his troop could maintain that lead all the way to the Sargasso. Once there, the denizens of the weed would halt any pursuit; any that managed to straggle through would face the wrath of He Who Creates, an unpleasant prospect at best and certainly a fatal one.

If, however, the lizard men should somehow gain an hour, the odds were too. long in their favor. And Kleg had to return home with the talisman.

He decided what needed to be done. He called his troop to gather around him. There were only a dozen left after the diversion at, the trees, but they should prove sufficient if correctly utilized.

“We are pursued by the lizard men,” Kleg said. “They outnumber us perhaps eight to one. We cannot fail in our mission, so I shall go ahead and leave you to slow them.”

This produced a not unexpected reaction from the selkies, a grumbling response common to every soldier who had ever lived.

“But wait,” Kleg said. “There is a river half a day ahead of us, one no doubt made much deeper by the storms of yesterday. We will journey there, and you shall all Change and wait for them in the water.”

The group brightened somewhat at this order. Selkies had certain basic skills on land, but in the water, no lizard man would be a match for one. Dispatching half a dozen or more each ought not to be a problem, they would be thinking, and Kleg sweetened the order by saying, “Once you have slaughtered the lizards, you may return home, and I am certain I can convince He Who Creates to reward each of you with at least two new wives and access to the best feeding grounds.”

A ragged cheer went up from the selkies. The way to a selkie’s heart was through his stomach, and if that entry was not enough, well, the other route would usually suffice. Both together could not be denied. Food and females, Kleg thought, it worked every time.

“Come let us depart and make ready for our enemies.”

Conan awoke, swimming up through murky depths to find that he did not recall where he was or how he had come to be there; more, his head hurt exceedingly. Had he drank too much wine?

The Cimmerian sat up, and saw that he was in a cage. Next to him was the boy Hok.

Ah. Now he remembered. There had been a beautiful bald woman, naked, beckoning him. That was the last thing he recalled before the sky fell on him.

“Ah, my stalwart man is awake at last,” came a voice.

Conan turned. It was her, the woman. No, not a woman, a Pili, though for purposes of looks, there seemed little difference, save for the lack of hair and the blue tint to her skin. She wore a red wrap he had last seen bunched at her feet.

More torches had been set aflame, so that the interior of the cave was quite bright, and when the Pili woman saw Conan look at her, she moved her hands slightly and the wrap gaped wide down her front, revealing again the bare breasts and other delights he had noticed before.

“I see you find me somewhat attractive,” she said.

Indeed, Conan thought, she cold not help but notice that. He shifted his position slightly.

The Pili woman laughed. When she moved closer, Conan could see that her eyes were catlike, the pupils narrow and diamond-shaped. And her face was not ugly, though he spent little time looking at that portion of her, since her slow walk caused other parts of her to move in a much more interesting manner than her face.

Though the squarish pattern of the cage’s bars would allow Conan to reach through them, the Pili woman stopped well out of his grasp. “I am Thayla, Queen of the Pili,” she said. “Welcome to our caves.”

“You always keep your guests in cages?”

“Usually. But fear not, you shall be released soon. How may I address you, my stalwart man?”

“I am Conan, of Cimmeria.”

“Are all the men of your Cimmeria so … large?” She waved at him, and for a moment, Conan thought there was more to her comment than it seemed. He must be mistaken.

“Nay.”

“Then I must consider myself especially blessed to be able to take you in,” she said. “Why have you come here?”

“To fetch the boy.” He nodded at Hok. “The selkies stole him.”

“Ah. Well, perhaps some bargain might be arranged.”

“I have nothing of value save my sword,” Conan said.

She smiled. “Indeed. It seems a mighty weapon.”

Conan looked at where his sword lay, on the floor behind the queen, but she was looking at him.

What, he wondered, did the queen wish of him? He knew that the Pili ate his kind, but the hunger in her eyes seemed to him of a different kind than one lusting for food.

The waterway that had been little more than a meandering stream when the selkies crossed it outbound now raged past, a churning brown river of mud and foam, carrying sticks and other detritus along at a heady speed. Even Changed, the selkies would be hard-pressed to maintain their position against such a current. The timing on this would be tricky, Kleg realized.

The leader of the selkies dispatched a scout to watch for the arrival of the lizard men. He would have his troops wait until the last moment before entering the turbulent waters for their attack.

Kleg himself waded into the river, feeling the powerful tug of the current at his legs. He dropped the water’s embrace, shifted his form as quickly as he could, and swam across to the opposite bank. It was a difficult task, as powerful as he was. When he attained the far shore, he had been carried hundreds of spans downriver.

After resuming his upright form, Kleg walked back to the river’s narrowest width, the place the lizards would logically make their crossing. Being -land dwellers arid poor swimmers, the pursuers would likely attempt to build some kind of ferry. A line strung across the river by some bravo would be followed by a thicker rope, and a raft constructed to be worked along the rope. There were plenty of trees about, but even so, the raft would take several hours to build, at least, and that in itself should buy Kleg enough time to be safely away and far ahead of the lizards. When the raft was overturned and at least some of the lizards turned into carrion, it would take more time to catch the raft or perhaps even to build another. Kleg figured he could count on at least half a day gained thusly, perhaps more.

The Prime selkie grinned. He waved at his troops, motioning for them to move upriver, to allow for the current. They would hide there in the thick brush and wait for the lizards; once the raft was constructed, they would slip into the water and attack. It was a good plan, Kleg felt.

Being the author of such a tactic pleased Kleg, and he felt it only right that he stay and watch it put into practice. An hour more would make little difference, since he would gain a dozen times that; what survivors remained would never catch him with that kind of lead, assuming they even bothered to continue.

So Kleg found a comfortable spot and awaited the upcoming slaughter with a certain amount of gleeful anticipation.

The queen left Conan in the cage, alone with Hok.

“They are going to eat us!” Hok said.

“Perhaps not,” Conan said. “The queen has indicated that some accommodation might be reached.”

“She lies. She said I would go free if I told her what the fishmen wanted at our grove. I said, but she only laughed at me when I asked her to open the cage.”

Conan nodded. So, the queen was not to be trusted. Good to know.

“We aren’t eaten yet, boy,” he said. “We shall see what happens.” He brushed several small rocks to one side, clearing a space on the floor, then stretched out flat.

“What are you doing?” Hok asked. .

“Going to sleep.”

“How can you sleep? We must find a way out!”

“The way out is through the door, boy. When they come and open it, then we shall have a way out. In the meanwhile, I am tired, so I shall sleep.”

“But-but-but-“

“Awaken me if they begin to eat us.”

With that, Conan closed his eyes and drifted into slumber, albeit a light one. The boy was fretful and rightfully so, but there was nothing to be done at the moment and Conan might need his strength later. He felt certain that the Queen of the Pili was not quite ready to make soup of him just yet. She had something else in mind.

Three chambermaids scurried around in her sleeping quarters, cleaning the queen’s room.

“Fresh pillows!” Thayla ordered. “Make them thick ones. And burn incense, the pungent black kind. Hurry!”

As Thayla watched her maids rush to freshen her chamber, she felt an excited flutter in her belly. Such a giant of a man would doubtless furnish her with much pleasure! She could hardly wait. She might keep him for days before her husband returned. They could have the boy for the festival, but this large man would not be consumed until she had worn him to exhaustion. However long it took.