Conan the Swordsman

by L. Sprague De Camp

  "Vateesa ! " he roared. "Where is your lady?"

  A dark-eyed lady-in-waiting parted the draperies. "General Conan," she said. "The princess prepares to receive the envoy from Shumir and cannot give you audience now."

  "To the devil with the envoy from Shumir! I haven't seen Princess Yasmela alone since the last new moon, and that she knows full well. If she can afford time for some smooth-talking horse-thief from one of these piddling city-states, she can afford the time for me."

  "Is aught amiss with the army?"

  "Nay, little one. Most of the troublemakers who resented serving under a barbarian general fell at Sha m la. Now I hear naught but the usual peacetime grumbles over scanty pay and slow promotion. But I want to see your lady, and by Crom, I'll —"

  "Vatessa!" called a gentle voice. "Permit him entry. The envoy can await me for a while."

  Conan marched into the chamber where Princess Yasmela sat before her dressing table in the full splendor of her royal habiliments. Two thing-women assisted in her preparations, one delicately tinting her soft hps, while another settled a glittering tiara on her night-black hair.

  When she had dismissed her handmaidens, she rose and faced the giant Cimmerian. Conan held out his brawny arms, but Yasmela stepped back with a minatory gesture.

  "Not now, my love!" she breathed. "You'd crumple my courtly rainment,"

  "Good gods, woman!" growled the Cimmerian. "When can I have you to myself? I like you better, anyhow, without that frippery about you."

  "Conan dear, I say again that which I said before. Much as I love you, I belong to the people of Khoraja. My enemies wait like birds of prey to take advantage of my least misjudgment. ' Twas folly, what we did in that ruined temple. If I gave myself to you again and the word took wings, the throne would rock beneath me—and worse did I conceive a child by you. Besides, so busied am I with affairs of state that at the close of day I am too weary even for love."

  "Then come with me before your high priest of" Ishtar and let him make us one."

  Yasmela sighed and shook her head. "That cannot be, my love, so long as I am regent. Were my brother free, something might be arranged, even though marriage with a foreigner is much against our customs."

  "You mean if I can loose King Khossus from Moranthes' prison cell, he would take over all this mummery that uses up your life and keeps you from me?"

  Yasmela raised her hands, palms upward. "Surely the king would resume his daily tasks. Whether he would permit our union, I do not know. Methinks I could persuade him."

  "And the kingdom cannot pay the ransom demanded by Moranthes?" asked Conan.

  "Nay. Before the war with Natohk, we raised a sum that he would have then accepted. But Ophir's price has risen, whilst our treasury is depleted. And now I fear Moranthes will sell my brother to the king of Koth. Would that we had a wizard to conjure poor Khossus out of his prison cell! Now I must go, my dear. Promptness was ever the courtesy of kings, and I must uphold the traditions of my house."

  Yasmela rang a little silver bell, and the two servants returned to give the final touches to the princess's attire. Conan bowed his way out; then at the door he paused and said: "Princess, your words have given me a thought."

  "What thought, my General?"

  "I ' ll tell you when you have the time to listen. Farewell for now."

  -

  Taurus the chancellor brushed back the white hair above a face lined with the cares of many years. He looked intently at Conan, sitting across from him in his cabinet of state. He said:

  "You ask what would befall if Khossus were slain? Why then, the council would choose his successor. As he has no legitimate heir, his sister is the likely choice, since the Princess Yasmela is popular and conscientious."

  "If she declined the honor?" said Conan.

  "The succession would pass to her next of kin, her uncle Bardes. If, good Conan, you think to grasp the crown yourself, dismiss the thought. We Khorajis are a clannish folk; none would accept a foreigner like you. I mean no offense; I do but utter facts."

  Conan waved away Taurus' apology. "I like an honest man. But what if a ninny came to sit upon the throne?"

  "Better one ninny on whom all agree, than two able princes wasting the land in a struggle for power. But you came not to discuss the rule of kings but to advance some proposal, did you not?"

  "I thought if I went secretly to Ophir and smuggled Khossus out, the kingdom would greatly profit, would it not?"

  Experienced statesman though he was, Taurus' eyes widened. "Amazing that you voice this proposition! Only a few days since, a soothsayer broached a like suggestion. The stars foretold, he said, that Conan would embark on this adventure and carry it to success. Thinking naught of magic, I dismissed the matter. But perchance the undertaking might happily go forward."

  "What mage was this?" asked Conan in surprise.

  "Rhazes, a Corinthian, lately come from Eruk."

  "I know him not," said Conan. "Something the princess said gave me the notion."

  Taurus looked shrewdly at the barbarian general. He had heard rumors of the passion between Conan and Yasmela but thought it wiser not to mention the affair. The idea of a union between his adored princess and a rough barbarian mercenary made Taurus shudder. Still, despite his pride of class and ancestry, he tried to be fair-minded toward the savior of Khoraja. He said:

  " ' Tis but a forlorn hope, this rescue of the king, yet we must act upon it soon or not at all. Since we cannot pay Moranthes the ransom he demands, I fear he will deliver our young king to Strabonus of Koth, who offers Ophir an advantageous treaty. Once the Kothian gets Khossus in his clutches, he'll doubtless torture him until he signs an abdication in Strabonus' favor, making him ruler of our land. We'll fight, for certain; but a bitter end is foreordained."

  "We beat Natohk's army," said Conan.

  "Aye, thanks to you. But Strabonus commands in great numbers sound, well-disciplined troops, unlike Natohk's motley hordes."

  "And if I free the king, what reward is mine?" asked Conan.

  Taurus gave a wry smile. "You come straight to the point, do you not, General? Do you not hope to enjoy more of the princess's company, once her brother regains the throne?"

  "What if I do?" growled Conan.

  "No offense, no offense. But would not that reward suffice you?"

  "It would not. If I am to win respect among your perfumed nobles, I shall need more than an officer's pay. I will accept half the sum you offered Moranthes for the king's return, ere he raised his price."

  With another, Taurus would have bargained; but he judged Conan too shrewdly to think that he could gain by chaffering with him. The unpredictable Cimmerian might roar with laughter, or fly into a rage, storm out, and leave Khoraja just when the kingdom needed him.

  "Very well," said Taurus. "At least, the money will stay within the kingdom. I'll send for this Rhazes, and we shall plan your expedition."

  -

  Conan strode in on Yasmela, Taurus, and another— a large, stout man of middle years, wearing a gauzy robe and a sleepy expression. At Conan's heels came a small and furtive man, skeletally thin, in ragged garments.

  "Hail, Princess!" said Conan. "And hail, Chancellor. And good day to you, whoever you may be."

  Taurus cleared his throat. "General Conan, I present Master Rhazes of Limnae, the eminent astrologer. And who is the gentleman who accompanies you?"

  Conan gave a bark of laughter. "Know, friends, that this is no gentleman but Fronto, the most skillful thief in all your kingdom. I found him in a reeking dive last night when all you honest folk were sleeping."

  Fronto bowed low, while Taurus seemed to be controlling his feelings of distaste.

  "A thief?" said the chancellor. "What need have we for such an one in this enterprise?"

  "Being one myself, once, I know something of thievish ways," said Conan quietly. "When I was in the , trade, though, I never learned the art of picking locks. My fingers were too large and clumsy. But for our pu
rposes now, we may need a lock-picker, and there is none more adroit at this than Fronto. I inquired among some other thieves I know."

  "You have the most amazing acquaintance," said Taurus dryly. "But—but how can you rely upon persons of his character?"

  Conan grinned. "Fronto has his reasons for helping us. Tell them, Fronto."

  In a soft Ophirean accent, the thief spoke for the first time: "Know, good sirs and lady, that I have my own score to settle with King Moranthes of Ophir. I am, if not of noble blood, at least from a station in life higher than that wherein you see me. I am the only son of Hermion, in his time the foremost architect of Ophir.

  "Some years ago, when Moranthes, then a stripling youth, came to the throne of Ophir, he chose to build a new and larger palace in Ianthe. For this task he hired my father. The king decreed that there should be a secret passage from the interior of the palace complex to a point outside the city walls, whereby he could escape a sudden uprising of the people or the destruction of his city by a foe.

  "When the palace was complete, secret passage and all, the king ordered that the builders of the passageway be slain, so none should spread the secret. My father he did not slay. Deeming himself merciful, Moranthes merely had him blinded.

  "The hideous injury broke my father's health. He died within the month. But ere he passed away, he revealed to me the secret of the passage, whereby I can lead the general into the palace. And since the passage opens into the dungeons and I can pick the lock of any door, we have a gambler's chance of rescuing the king."

  "And what, good thief, are you asking for your services?" inquired Taurus.

  "Besides revenge, I wish for a small pension—the kind Khoraja pays to her old soldiers."

  "You shall have it," said the chancellor.

  Conan shot a glance at the astrologer, asking: "What is your part in this, Master Rhazes?"

  "I offer my services to your expedition, General. With my astronomical calculator," he said, pointing to the brass box fitted with dials and wheels that he set upon his palm, "I can seek out the most auspicious times for each step of your journey."

  Rhazes held it forward and turned the silver knob. After frowning at the dials, he said: "A happy coincidence! The best time for departure for the next two months occurs upon the morrow. And while I am no sorcerer, I know a magical trick or two to aid you."

  Conan growled: "I've managed not a few years without the aid of magical mummeries, and I see no reason to turn to them now."

  "Furthermore," said Rhazes blandly, ignoring Conan's remark, "I know Koth well and speak the tongue without a trace of accent. Since we shall cross that vasty kingdom on our way to Ophir—"

  "The devil with that!" said Conan. "Strabonus would love to get his hands on us. Nay, we shall skirt the borders of Koth, through Shem and Argos—"

  "Rhazes has reason," Taurus broke in. "Time is of the essence, and the route you propose would add much to your journey."

  Yasmela joined Taurus in the argument, until Conan with little grace agreed to take the shorter route and accepted the Corinthian as the third member of the party. Then the chancellor said:

  "You will need personal guards and servants to do camp chores and care for your equipment—"

  "No!" roared Conan, smiting the table in the audience room. "Every extra man is one more pair of eyes to see, ears to hear, and tongue to blab our secrets. I've camped out in many lands, in weather fair and foul, and Fronto also knows the rougher side of life.

  If Master Rhazes does not wish to share these trifling hardships, let him remain in Khoraja."

  Taurus clucked. "It is unheard-of for a man of your rank, General, to cross the country without even a varlet to clean his boots."

  "I've done my own chores before, and it won't harm me to do them once again. On a journey of this kind, he travels the fastest who travels alone."

  The fat astrologer sighed. "I will come alone, if I must. But ask me not to chop the firewood."

  "Very well, then." Conan rose. "Chancellor, give. Fronto a pass from the palace, lest some sentry assume the worst and clap him in irons." He flipped a coin to the thief, who caught it. "Fronto, buy yourself some clothes—decent but not gaudy—and meet me at the officers' quarters before the supper hour. Princess, permit me to escort you to your apartments."

  When they neared Yasmela's rooms, Conan murmured: "May I come to you tonight?"

  "I—I know not—the risk—"

  "It may be our last time, you know."

  "Oh, you wretched man to torment me sol Very well, I'll send my tiring women away before the changing of the guard."

  -

  Three riders and their pack mule trotted up the gentle slope that led toward the northern branch of the Kothian Escarpment. Now and again the travelers passed traffic on the road: a peddler afoot with his pack on his back, a farmer in a cart drawn by plodding oxen, a train of camels guided by Shemites in striped robes and headcloths, a Khorajan aristocrat whipping his chariot team ahead of his cantering knot of retainers.

  At last the rampart of the escarpment towered above them. From below it seemed a solid wall of rock, but as they came closer, the wall was seen to be fractured into bluffs, parted by narrow- gorges.

  The road led into one of these defiles, and as they walked their horses up the winding p ath cut in the canyon, the wall of rock blotted out the setting sun. When the travelers mounted the highest rampart, the sun had set.

  To the west, the rounded Kothian hills stood out against the skyline like breasts of recumbent giantesses. In the distance Conan could discern the peak of Mount Khrosha, its plume of smoke colored an angry red by the glow of the seething fires within the crater.

  Ahead the ground rolled gently, and here a group of armed men, wearing the golden helmet of Koth embroidered on their surcoats, halted them. The travelers had reached the border. Rhazes said:

  "General Conan, let me manage this."

  With a grunt, the stout magician lowered himself from the saddle and approached the commander of the border guard. He took the officer by the elbow, led him aside, and spoke rapidly in fluent Kothic, now and then gesturing toward his companions. The officer's stern face broke into a smile. Then, uttering a guffaw and slapping his thigh, he turned to Conan and Fronto and jerked a thumb.

  "On your way!" he said.

  When the border post had shriveled in the distance, Conan asked: "What did you tell those knaves, Rhazes?

  The astrologer smiled blandly. "I said that we are on our way to Asgalun and we heard tales of war among the western states of Shem."

  "Aye, but what made the fellow laugh?"

  "Oh, I said that Fronto was my son, and we were going to offer prayers at the temple of Derketo to enable him to beget a son. I said he suffered from—ah —certain bodily weakness."

  "You bastard!" roared Conan, doubling up with raucous mirth, while Fronto kept his eyes upon the road and scowled.

  -

  The moon swelled to full, then shrank to a slender scimitar as they plodded over the endless leagues of Koth. They moved through a land of rolling prairie, where mounted neatherds tended longho rn ed cattle. They skirted the barrens of central Koth, where streams emptied into a lake so salt that the few plants marching along the marge were armed with spines and thorns. In time they reached more fertile country and stopped to rest.

  Conan studied his companions. Fronto worried him. The little thief was a w illi ng helper, active and adroit; but he muttered endlessly about his private woes and grudges.

  "If the gods vouchsafe the chance," he said, "I'll slay that villain Moranthes, though afterwards they boil me in oil."

  "I blame you not," said Conan. "Vengeance is sweet, and I, too, have enjoyed it. But one must survive to experience the pleasure of revenge.

  "Remember that we come not to kill Moranthes, however much he may deserve it, but to get Khossus out of his confines. Later if you would fain go back to stalk the king, that's your affair."

  But Fronto still mutter
ed, chewing his hps and wringing his fingers in the intensity of his pent-up emotions.

  Rhazes was different. The astrologer did no chores unless Conan bullied him, and he was so unhandy that he would have been but little help if willing. Always good-natured, he entertained the two with stories out of ancient myths and disquisitions on the arcane sciences.

  Still, the astrologer had a way of evading answers to direct questions, slithering out from under them like a serpent wriggling away from a descending foot. Conan felt a vague distrust of the man; yet, however much he watched and listened, he could find nothing definite against him.