The Conan Chronology, page 387
The ledge was just broad enough to accommodate his body. With arms pulled in tightly and feet drawn up as much as was feasible, he was hidden from view, and the heavy brush completed his concealment. Once he heard stealthy feet pass near by, but he could tell from the sound that the tracker had not noticed his lair. He was certain that he had left no mark of his passing from the instant he had dived from his saddle. No horse could travel without leaving some slight traces behind, and very few men could do better, but Conan could traverse even soft ground and leave no more sign of it than a moonbeam.
'I like this not,' Sagobal said. 'It grows fully dark, and your supposed experts have not found a single blundering barbarian who has to be concealed no more than a hundred paces from this spot.' The two men stood by their fire while Berytus's four remaining trackers hunted for the Cimmerian.
'He is as well-schooled in the hunting arts as any man I have ever encountered,' Berytus admitted. 'I myself examined where he threw himself from his saddle into the brush.
Not a mark where he landed.' The manhunter shook his head. 'He must have been taught by Picts. But how can that be? The Cimmerians and the Picts are deadly enemies.'
'Ordinary Cimmerians also do not fare to Turan and steal treasure,' Sagobal said. 'But this one did.'
They turned to see Urdos of Koth approaching. The huge man had a scowl upon his black-bearded face. 'Not a sign of him, Chief. It is as if he—' The Kothian had no opportunity to finish what he had to say. A pale shape rushed up behind him and on into the outer darkness. There was a flash and a smacking crunch, and a great look of surprise came over the face of Urdos. He stood still for a moment, then toppled stiffly and lay on his face, unmoving. His spine had been halved.
'Barca! Ambula! Bahdur!' shouted Berytus. 'To me! The Cimmerian dog has killed Urdos!'
Conan crouched behind a rock, waiting. He had heard the Shemite, and he knew from the sound of the sandalled feet where the man had to be heading ... clearly, he hastened to rejoin his chief, but his steps were cautious. The Shemites were at their best when mounted, but this one had no choice save to dismount when he pursued the wily Cimmerian.
Conan saw a trousered leg pass in front of him and he sprang. The Shemite tried to bring his arrow to bear, but he was far too late. The Cimmerian's brawny arm pinned his arms to his sides while with his other hand, Conan rammed his sword through the man's body from side to side. The Shemite made a strangled cry, and Conan lowered him to the ground, wrenching his sword from the body with a wet sound.
He was straightening from his crouch when Ambula of Punt fell upon him. Even as he jerked around to evade the first thrust of the spear, Conan was forced to admire the stealth with which the brown man had come upon him. The keen ears of the northerner had never detected a sound. The second thrust would have spitted him, but Conan batted it aside with his sword. It
was a desperation move, for it made noise the Cimmerian had wished to avoid.
'Berytus!' Ambula shouted, 'He is here!' The cry distracted the man of Punt and caused him to lose the coordination of his attack. Conan feinted high at his head, and Ambula raised his spear to deflect the blow. The blade made a lightning change of direction, flashing beneath the Punt's spear, slicing off both arms just below the elbows. Before the man could even scream his dismay, another blow took his head off.
Conan did not have time to feel satisfaction, for a scraping sound made him whirl about. In the dimness he saw the Hyrkanian fifteen paces away, drawing his bow. Before Conan could move, something bulked up behind the Hyrkanian and a knife flashed, severing the bowstring and the archer's windpipe and jugular in a single sweep of razor-edged steel.
'I do not understand,' Ubo said, wiping his blade on the man's coat, 'why these hunting dogs think they are the only ones who know how to handle themselves in the dark.' He re-sheathed the knife.
'By Crom, I never thought I would be glad to see your ugly face!'
'Ambula!' Berytus shouted. 'Barca! Bahdur!' There was no sound from the surrounding darkness. He turned to Sagobal. 'I heard steel. I heard Ambula call. Now I hear nothing. They are dead.'
Sagobal spat in disgust. 'So much for your great band of manhunters! How does it feel, knowing yourself bested by a barbarian outlaw chief?'
'He has yet to slay me,' Berytus said coldly. 'As for the men, I can always find more. Meanwhile, I will slay him with my own hand.' He turned and began to stride away. 'Where are you going, coward?' Sagobal called.
Berytus did not turn around. 'Out of the firelight. He has two bows now.'
Sagobal almost fell in his haste to get away from the light.
'There they are!' Ubo whispered. The two lay on the reverse slope of a small ridge, peering over into the little canyon. Their faces were smeared with dust, and with the sun rising behind them, the pair in the canyon below could not descry them. 'Will you hazard a cast? I was no bowman even when I had two good eyes.'
'No,' said Conan. 'I can shoot, but no man can use an unfamiliar bow effectively. I've not had the leisure to practice with this one.'
'Then what do we do?' Ubo said. 'We could just go down and fight them, but a man could get hurt that way.'
'We wait,' said Conan.
'Wait for what?'
'I think I hear someone now,' Conan said. In the distance they could hear a drumming of hooves.
'Who could this be?' Ubo said.
'Watch.'
The men below them whirled at the sound, clearly alarmed. Then the first riders came into the canyon. They wore the heavy equipment of Torgut Khan's guardsmen. Among them was Torgut Khan himself. Beside the viceroy rode a smaller
man.
'By Set!' Ubo swore. 'It's that rogue, Osman!' 'Aye,' said Conan. 'I knew he would be along soon, trying to play all sides against all others, as usual. We are fortunate they did not get here earlier. But that fat swine Torgut Khan cannot ride fast, and I'll warrant Osman got lost a time or two leading him here. He does not know this country well. Come, this should be enjoyable.' With that, the Cimmerian slid down the reverse slope. Confused, Ubo followed.
'Viceroy,' Sagobal cried, enraged but under control. 'How came you here?'
'This man led me,' Torgut Khan said. 'Now explain yourself!'
'You listened to Osman, eh? The treacherous little swine
led us into an ambush at the home of the wizard. What game does he play now? We tracked the bandits to this place and have fought them all night. At least one of them is still alive, although he will not be for long. I believe that the—' An abrupt gesture from Torgut Khan silenced him. The viceroy dismounted and walked up to him.
'Osman says he knows where the treasure is hidden,' Torgut Khan whispered. 'Let us determine if he is telling the truth, then we will discuss this further.'
Sagobal saluted. 'Very well.' He turned to Berytus. 'Aquilonian, stay you here with the guards. Osman, come with us.'
Berytus shrugged, as if washing his hands of the matter. Grinning and bowing, Osman stepped out before them. 'If you will follow me, gentlemen.'
As they walked, Sagobal kept his eyes sweeping the heights. He knew that he could easily dodge an arrow shot from a distance. It was only when arrows fell in storms, or came from the dark or from behind, that they were truly dangerous. Should one be shot at Torgut Khan, that was no concern of his.
But none attacked them, and they came to a tiny side-canyon where Osman scrambled up the slope and tore at some stones. His labours revealed a natural cave well concealed by nature, and he gestured grandly toward its entrance. 'Behold! Within is a painted cave, wherein resides the stolen treasure, of which you, Viceroy, have promised me a tenth part.'
Sagobal drew his sword and held its point beneath Osman's chin. 'You go in first, jackal! I remember the last place you led me to.'
Osman held out a hand for calm. 'Of a certainty, Master, but remember ... I am under Torgut Khan's protection now, and he has many armed men with him.'
'Go in,' Sagobal said coldly.
Osman scrambled in through the gap and all was still. Then they heard a great cry from within.
'What is it?' Torgut Khan shouted.
'It is gone!' Osman wailed. 'Every chest and sack of it, every last coin—gone!'
'What?' Sagobal exclaimed. The two pushed their way through the opening and stood inside. The morning sunlight flooding in revealed a cave with strangely painted walls and ceiling, but no treasure.
'You see the marks on the floor!' Osman cried desperately. 'That is where we stacked it all! But it is gone! Believe me, Masters! I do not lie to you!' He began to back toward the entrance as Sagobal came toward him, sword in hand. Osman turned and rushed out, the guard commander close behind him. Before he was ten paces down the slope, Sagobal bounded upon him like a tiger.
'You have tricked me for the last time!' Sagobal shouted, slashing Osman across the back of both knees so that he could not run. 'I curse the day I took you from prison!' He slashed a hand off. 'I curse the mother that bore you!' Off came the other hand. 'Here is the reward you asked for!' A huge vertical slash opened Osman's body from neck to belly, exposing bone and viscera, but inflicting no mortal wound. Osman screamed and gibbered, beyond coherent speech.
A great laugh erupted behind them. Sagobal turned. Torgut Khan, just emerging from the painted cave, did likewise. Upon the slope above them stood Conan of Cimmeria. His sword was bare in his hand and he regarded them with supreme mockery.
'Are these the mighty ones who sent me to prison and wanted to make a show of me in their festival?' He laughed uproariously. 'These are but fools whom I have toyed with these many days!'
Sagobal could stand no more. With a howl of inchoate rage, he charged up the slope at the Cimmerian who had made such a shambles of his careful plan. Curved blade and straight clashed, rang, clashed again. Both men were fine swordsmen, but Conan's was the greater weight and reach of arm. He began to inflict small wounds, then greater ones,
while remaining himself unharmed. At last a low cut brought Sagobal to the ground, then another made him drop his sword from his nerveless hand. The guard commander squalled in rage, but Conan placed a foot against him and rolled him down the slope. He came to rest atop the body of Osman, who was still conscious and howled at this new assault.
'I wish you two the joy of one another's company,' Conan said. 'You both may last until midnight, if the hyenas do not get you first.'
'Asura, Conan!' said Ubo, gaping. 'But you are a man who takes his revenge seriously!' 'Aye. Where is Torgut Khan?'
'He ran off that way.' Ubo pointed in the direction of the pond. 'Well, what did happen to the treasure?'
'When we rode from that mining village and the rest of you travelled on to the wizard's house,' Conan explained, 'I rode back here to make sure Osman had not come hither to try to make off with the treasure. He had not, but I knew that he might do so at any time. So I moved it all.' 'Moved it?' Ubo said. 'Where?'
'To the pond. It is all there, under the water. It took me a day and a night to shift it all, then cover up my tracks.'
Ubo scratched his shaven head in wonder. 'I have never liked the idea of hard labour, but I suppose such treasure is worth it. What do we do now, Chief?'
'We see what happens next,' Conan said. 'Come on.' The two rushed to another vantage point, this one overlooking the pond. Torgut Khan, still puffing from his run, was bawling at his troops to search the area for a dangerous Cimmerian. The men milled about, confused by his half-coherent orders.
'More riders coming,' said Ubo, his face a study in puzzlement. 'Who might this be?'
From the southern defile, another pack of horsemen rode into the canyon. They were a tough, ragged lot, utterly unlike the polished troopers of the viceroy's guard.
'Wait!' Ubo cried. 'Is that not the officer who thought he could give me orders?'
'Aye,' Conan said. 'Captain Hosta, of the Iranistani rebels. And there is Idris, the young claimant to the throne.'
'How did they get here?' Ubo asked. Then he saw Layla riding among them. 'Oh. I see.'
'I sent her to fetch them,' said Conan. 'I knew we would soon have more of a fight on our hands than we could readily deal with, since Osman was still at large. Torgut Khan was the only one left for him to use. Give me the bow.'
Ubo handed him the weapon and Conan sighted on a trooper. Unused to the bow and its arrows, he missed his first shot, came closer with the second, and with the third, he . brought a man down from his saddle. By this time all below was a whirling melee. Troopers and rebels cut and thrust at one another, sword and lance licking out with deadly effect. The rebels had greater numbers, the troopers superior armour and weapons.
'It is too much to hope that they will all slay each other,' Ubo said. 'Why are you helping the rebels?'
'Because it is Torgut Khan I want to destroy,' Conan said. When he had shot his last arrow, he rushed down the hill and joined the fight. A blow from his sword emptied a saddle and he replaced the rider.
Hewing his way into the mass of struggling men, he bellowed, 'Torgut Khan! Show yourself, you swine!' Then he saw the man, frantically trying to keep his guards between himself and .these unexpected strangers. Conan bulled his way through and forced Torgut Khan's horse back into the water.
'Barbarian!' Torgut Khan cried. 'Are you immortal?'
'Nay,' said Conan, batting aside the viceroy's ineffectual defence. 'And neither are you!' His sword swept across Tor-gut Khan's fat body, shearing armour, flesh and bone alike. With a scream, the viceroy fell from his saddle and floated face-down upon the water of the pond, which was growing crowded with corpses. The last sight Torgut Khan's eyes beheld, filtered through the billowing red stain of his own
blood, was a great heap of chests and bags resting upon the bottom of the pond.
The crashing and the shouting died down. The forces of the rebels were depleted, but the troopers of Torgut Khan were annihilated. Bodies were strewn everywhere, and wounded men lay on the ground or sagged in their saddles, groaning.
'Be sure that none have escaped!' said General Eltis, the pretender's cousin.
'Yes!' cried young Idris. 'We cannot risk bad relations with Turan. As far as the king is concerned, Torgut Khan and his guards disappeared!' Then he noticed Conan and smiled. 'Greetings, Captain! This woman tells me that you have something for us.'
'That I have,' said Conan. 'You shall have to dredge the pond for it, but it is all down there.'
'Hey!' Ubo ran up behind Conan. 'You are not going to let them take it all, are you? By Set, but we deserve our share!'
Idris looked at his cousin. 'General, did this man not desert my service, and does he not deserve hanging?'
'That is the proper punishment, my liege,' Eltis said, nodding.
'What!' Ubo said indignantly. 'You would call yourself a king and treat me thus, when I have brought you all this great treasure?'
Idris smiled. 'Nay, you are safe enough as long as you stay out of my kingdom, but a bandit like you should be grateful he is allowed to breathe, and not trouble kings for further reward.' He looked at Conan. 'But if the treasure is what this woman claims, I will give you one chest of the gold.'
'Majesty,' Eltis protested, 'you are too generous. A handful of dinars should suffice such rogues as these.'
'Nay, I would not have men deem me unkingly. A chest of gold.'
'As you wish,' Eltis said, looking pained.
'My liege!' called Captain Hosta. 'What shall I do with this one?' He pointed to a circle of horsemen who held
lances lowered at Berytus of Aquilonia. 'He took no part in the fighting, and he is not Turanian.'
'Is he one of yours?' Idris asked.
'He is the hired dog of Sagobal,' said Layla, reining up. 'He led his pack of jackals to attack my father's house and he has dogged our trail since we seized the treasure.'
'Kill him, then,' Idris said.
'Wait!' Berytus shouted. 'I claim right of vengeance!'
'Vengeance for what, dog?' Conan said contemptuously. 'I never sought a fight with you. It was you who accepted Sagobal's pay to track me down. I slew your men because they hunted me, and no man can do that and live!'
'You think I care about them? I want vengeance for Venarium!'
'Venarium?' Idris said. 'I have heard that name. Was it not a great battle in the far north, many years ago?'
'Not so many years,' Berytus said bitterly. 'The king of Aquilonia founded a colony upon land north of the Bossonian marshes and my kin were among the settlers. The wild tribesmen of the Cimmerian hills fell upon us and wrought a great slaughter. All my family were slain.'
'Your king planted his colony on the ancestral lands of our clans!' Conan said. 'It was our right to throw the trespassers out. It was my first battle. Though I had seen only fifteen winters, I slew many—Aquilonians, Bossonians and Gundermen. But it was battle, not ambush or treacherous assault. No man can claim vengeance for defeat in a fair and open fight.'
'I was a boy as well,' Berytus said. 'And when the fighting was over, I was sold as a slave.'
'That is a lie!' Conan shouted. 'Cimmerians do not keep slaves, nor do they sell prisoners to traders. When the slaying was over, we went back to our hills and took naught with us but our dead and wounded.'
'All was not over with the fighting,' Berytus said. 'For months after the battle, slavers rode through the countryside, rounding up refugees and driving them to the slave markets. Most were women and children, for few men escaped death
at the hands of the black-haired wolves from the north. I toiled as a slave, but I had too much spirit to work the land. I earned my freedom as a pit-fighter, and ever since, I have made my way as a fighting-man and hunter. And never have I ceased to thirst for vengeance upon the Cimmerians. I was quick to take Sagobal's offer when I learned that the leader of the bandits was one such. I have hunted many men in my time, but never a member of that accursed race.'
