The Conan Compendium

by Various Authors

  Had Conan and Raihna carried more arrows, they would have shot anyway, trusting to wound the beast. Decius had been able to find barely two dozen shafts apiece for them, however. Some of those had already been spent in bringing down meat for the pot.

  Conan had faced enraged bears and seen what they could do. He had also seen how many arrows they could take without mortal hurt. He would shoot if the bear offered a vital spot, but not otherwise.

  Now only the faintest of scrapings and the swiftest of moving shadows told Conan of the bear's progress. It seemed that it was moving around toward their rear, perhaps cutting across the trail toward the oak tree.

  For a long moment the silence was complete. Then the crackle of splintering wood rent the night. Conan tried to pierce the darkness, but the moonlight refused its aid. He could only make out the oak tree shaking, as if a strong wind were blowing.

  Then the moon came out, Raihna gasped, and even Conan gritted his teeth. The bear had torn a branch from the oak tree, as long as two men and as thick as Conan's arm. Now the beast rose on its hind feet, holding the branch in its forepaws.

  In its hands. The moonlight showed unmistakable thumbs, for all that they bore claws as long as Raihna's dagger.

  Creature of magic or creature of twisted nature, the bear was still offering Conan that long-sought vital target. An arrow leaped to his string, then flew straight at the beast. It pierced deep through the shaggy brown coat and into the left shoulder.

  The bear's roars filled the night as if there had been no such thing as silence since the world began. It shifted its grip on the branch to pluck the arrow from its flesh. Conan put two more arrows into the beast; then it lowered its head, shuffled its feet about like a runner seeking the best start, and lunged forward.

  The bear's three human opponents scattered like chaff in a whirlwind.

  They had no choice. Even Conan could no more match the bear's strength than he could that of an avalanche. Against such an opponent, he had to keep his distance and wear the beast down, giving as many wounds as possible and taking none. Many slight wounds could sap the strength of any creature. There could be no such thing as a slight wound for any human, not from this monster.

  Raihna was bolder. She lunged in under the bear's guard and slashed at its hind legs. The broken branch hummed and the end crashed down.

  Raihna leaped back and to one side, avoiding a stroke that would have shattered her skull.

  She did not avoid a patch of rough ground that threw her off balance.

  The bear stepped forward, raised the branch high, and struck again.

  Raihna went down, but in going down, she landed on her rump, legs raised.

  Those long legs were made for more than wrapping around a man during bedsport. They held fine, hard muscle, and all that muscle now drove Raihna's boots into the pit of the bear's stomach. The beast outweighed her ten to one, but even its stout hide could not altogether cushion such a blow.

  The bear grunted and the branch wavered. Raihna rolled away, cutting at the bear's left ankle as she did so. Her eye was true. Her blade caught the hamstring. The leg gave under the bear's weight, and the beast toppled onto all fours. The branch came down with it, catching Raihna across one ankle. She did not cry out, but Conan saw her wince.

  He also saw that opportunity was knocking. For a moment, the bear was torn between the weapons of a thinking creature and those of a beast.

  Instinct overwhelmed thought. It lunged for Raihna with its jaws.

  As it did, the branch lifted, freeing Raihna. She rolled and slashed again. This time her sword caught the bear across the muzzle. The creature roared to make the hills shake and turned toward Raihna as she leaped to her feet.

  As she did, Conan leaped onto the bear's back. His free arm curled around the shaggy throat, squeezing like a great snake of the Vendhyan jungles gripping a particularly succulent pig. His sword slashed down.

  Fur and flesh gaped, and the bear's right forepaw dangled limply.

  The roars the bear had uttered before seemed like silence compared to the thunder now.

  It needed more than noise to disquiet the Cimmerian when he was grappling with a foe. When the bear tried to shake off the impudent nuisance clinging to its neck, it was too late. Conan had his dagger drawn, and he thrust it deep into the bear's throat. Blood flowed. He thrust again; more blood flowed, and Raihna took the opportunity Conan had given her. She ran in, thrusting hard, and her sword found the bear's heart.

  The slayers barely had time to leap clear before the creature toppled.

  The massive paws scrabbled at the rocky ground a few times as blood pooled under the throat and chest. Then it lay still.

  Before he stood up, Conan counted and flexed his limbs to be sure that all of them were still attached and fit for use. He had grazes, bruises, and sore spots all over from this briefest of grapples with the bear.

  Raihna looked in much the same case, with the addition that her trousers were largely gone, and also one sleeve of her shirt. One cheek was going to be a single giant bruise by morning, and she favored one ankle.

  Conan caught her by both hands, then embraced her and lifted her off her feet. "Thank the gods that it was a short fight," she said when her breath returned. "A long battle against that creature and we'd none of us been fit to fight again, or even to travel."

  "Save Marr," Conan said, looking about for their companion. He was nowhere in sight, but Conan thought he heard a distant trill of pipes.

  Had the piper fled after leading them into a trap? That was Conan's first thought, and an ugly one, too. Raihna seemed to read that thought on the Cimmerian's face.

  "Is it worth searching for him?" she asked. She sheathed her sword with a vigorous thrust. Conan judged that it would be drawn as swiftly if she met the piper again.

  "Not at night," Conan said. "We'd do better to find a place to sleep.

  Without a guide, we'll have to cover the last of the journey by day, or risk going astray."

  "At least we can have bear meat for breakfast," Raihna said.

  "That would not be wise," came a familiar voice, seemingly from the air above them. Conan whirled, sword flying clear.

  "By Erlik's brass tool”!"

  Marr slipped down from the oak tree and almost sauntered toward them.

  He might have taken a Cimmerian fist in the teeth but for Raihna. She gripped Conan's arm and pointed. Conan followed her gesture, and stared.

  A youth”no, a woman hardly more than a girl” was following the piper.

  She wore her hair in Pougoi braids, and her face was either filthy beyond belief or smeared with dirt to make her harder to see in the dark. Even in the darkness, Conan noted her easy grace of movement and the fine figure under the tunic.

  "Forgive me," Marr said. "Captain Conan, Mistress Raihna, meet Wylla.

  She is of the Pougoi, and a friend to us."

  "Then she can share the bear meat, after you explain where you were during the fight," Raihna snapped. "We are waiting." She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared.

  "To eat the flesh of that bear is not proper," the piper said. "The bear has a man's cunning. Therefore it would be as eating human flesh

  Raihna gagged, and Conan nodded. "I see you agree with me, Captain,"

  Marr said. "Good. As for where I was”I had to play my pipes. Otherwise, the bear's thoughts might have reached the Star Brothers. That could have been like sending a letter warning them of our coming. By the time I knew I had blocked the sending of the bear's thoughts, I sensed Wylla's approach. I had to go on playing so as to guide her safely to us and to shield her from the bear's knowledge."

  Conan nodded, feigning more understanding than he actually felt. Still, it began to seem that the piper's magic might be of a kind he had never heretofore met, or even heard of. It was magic to prevent what might otherwise happen rather than to cause unnatural events such as rivers flowing backward, mountains splitting, or dead gods waking up to ravage the world of m
en.

  No doubt such magic could in time corrupt its wielder, as with any sorcerer. But the corruption might come more slowly. Slowly enough, perhaps, for Conan and Raihna to use Marr's aid in rescuing the princess and making a safe escape.

  "We had best move to a safer place, as you suggested," the piper continued. "Then, before we move on, we must consider fresh ways of rescuing the princess. Wylla has brought news that I did not expect."

  "I thought that our old scheme was good enough," Conan said. "Unless your ankle will keep you from climbing the valley walls," he added, turning to Raihna.

  "Climbing down, no. Climbing up She shrugged. "That monster on my trail may count for more than a sore ankle."

  "We may need to do much less climbing than we expected," the piper said. "Wylla thinks that we have a friend among the Pougoi." The woman whispered to the piper, and he nodded. "Or at least a man who is no enemy to the princess, even if he serves Count Syzambry."

  "What?" Conan would have bellowed louder than the bear had Raihna not put a hand over his mouth. More quietly, he said, "This demands even more explaining than your climbing trees to make music while we fought the bear!"

  "I shall explain when we are a safe distance from here," Marr said.

  "The thoughts of the bear may not have reached the Star Brothers.

  Indeed, I believe they did not. I am less sure about the bear's kin. Do you fancy a fight against them?"

  By the time Wylla and Marr finished telling of "Lord Aybas" and his curious conduct, it was too late to reach the valley before daylight.

  The four travelers covered some two thirds of the distance, then found a sleeping place in a stand of fir trees so dense that an army might not have discovered them.

  The tale would have been longer still and much less convincing had Wylla not decided that Conan and Raihna could be trusted. So she revealed her knowledge of the lowland speech and told most of the tale herself. This, in turn, left Conan and Raihna more willing to believe it.

  Not that the tale was easy to believe at best, as Raihna made plain when she and Conan were clearing a place for their blankets. "Aybas may be playing some game too deep for Wylla to understand, it seems to me,"

  she said.

  "Then it would be too deep for our musical magician, and if he's not a master of intrigue, I'm a Stygian," Conan said.

  "He may know only what Wylla has told him," Raihna suggested.

  "True enough," Conan replied. "But we can't turn about and run for home with our tails between our legs after coming this far. We'll go on down. If it's a trap, we can at least cut Aybas's throat in due time."

  "Yes, and Wylla's." Raihna embraced him. "It does you honor that you'll not harm a woman. But I've sworn no such oath, and if Wylla betrays, us, she'll go with us. I've always fancied having a serving maid, in this world or some other."

  Conan returned the embrace, but he could not entirely avoid the thought that any man who made an enemy of Raihna would be lucky to live long.

  Did Decius know this small truth about the lady he was courting?

  Chapter 14

  Back | Next Contents

  Aybas awoke, at first certain that a new nightmare afflicted him. A giant loomed over him, so black that he seemed to devour light except for his eyes, which gleamed an icy blue. Others were present in the nightmare, but Aybas could make out only little of them.

  Then he sensed cold steel against his skin and a sharp point at his throat. Either the demons who rode by night had new powers over the minds of men, or he was no longer asleep.

  Aybas chose to think himself awake, and he asked a question that could at least do no harm: "What do you want of me, friends?"

  "Hah!" the giant said. "Leave the last word off your tongue or give over pandering for a usurper."

  That made it evident who the visitors were: folk loyal to King Eloikas.

  And that told him that they were no friends of his, and most likely why they were here.

  In spite of the steel at his throat, Aybas smiled. The night had brought one surprise to him. Now it was about to bring one to his visitors.

  "If you seek the freedom of Princess Chienna, I am yours to command."

  The giant grunted something wordless that might have indicated surprise. Aybas could barely make out his face in the dark hut, and in any case, he was no longer looking at the giant.

  Behind the giant stood a fair-haired woman of mature but still great beauty, for all her warrior's garb and appearance. Beside her”and here Aybas had to swallow”stood a man who seemed small beside the giant but who exuded a power that had little to do with his stature.

  A set of silver-adorned pipes dangled at his waist. Aybas did not need a second look at those pipes for them to tell him more than he wanted to know about the man.

  Marr the Piper, who had toyed with the spells of the Star Brothers like a playful cat with a mouse, had come in the service of King Eloikas.

  "Then we command you to rise and guide us to the house of the princess," the giant said.

  "I will do as much or more on one condition," Aybas said.

  The sword point pricked harder. Another twitch of the giant's wrist and Aybas's life blood would stream over his pallet. "Wait! Hear the condition first! It may be worth the hearing."

  "It may," Marr said. Aybas almost smiled. He had heard the legend that the piper of the mountains was mute save for his music. So much for the legend.

  "We must rescue Captain Oyzhik," Aybas said.

  The giant's sword point drew back, but the look on his face was more frightening than the sharp steel. With his eyes now fully waking, Aybas saw that the giant had the look of Cimmeria about him. Perhaps he was the new captain of the Guards of which rumor had spoken? If so, he would have no reason to love Oyzhik.

  "You are here out of loyalty to King Eloikas, to save Chienna from the Star Brothers and from Count Syzambry alike. Save Oyzhik and you may do the king another service."

  "How?" The Cimmerian, it seemed, was not one to waste words.

  "Oyzhik is a traitor to the king, to be sure. He also knows a good many of Syzambry's secrets. He has not been rewarded for his treason, either. The Star Brothers hold him close captive, ready to sacrifice him to the beast at a whim. If saved, might he not reveal much of what he knows, out of gratitude?"

  "Oyzhik has as much gratitude in him as a turnip," the woman said. "But if the king pardoned him as well

  "Raihna!" the giant growled. "Have your wits flown after this one's?"

  "No," the woman called Raihna replied. "Merely thinking that if we can win a second victory without losing our first

  She seemed to have decided. From the look on his face, the piper was of the same mind. The Cimmerian was not, and he seemed ready to argue.

  The hut door swung open, and Wylla entered as silently as smoke. "I have warned my father. He trusts no one else enough to bring them, but he will meet us at the house of the princess."

  "Is anyone suspicious?" Conan asked.

  "I saw none of the Star Brothers or their faction," Wylla said. "I think that if they suspected aught, they would be abroad."

  "Likely enough," Conan agreed. He looked upward, apparently calling on the gods for patience with fools, and wisdom to tell fools from wise men. Then he looked at Aybas with a face that made the Aquilonian wish that this were a nightmare.

  "We'll take your oath to aid us. Break it, or even bend it, and you'll die ten times over before the Pougoi take you."

  "I expect no less."

  The rescuers certainly had not expected the oath that Aybas swore. He swore at length and by many gods, partly to ease their minds, but more to ease his own. This was the first time he had used some of the sacred names since he was a child, and why not? This was likely enough the last oath he would swear as a living man, and the first in twenty years that he had no intention of breaking.

  Of course, if the tales of Syzambry's being dead, or at least crippled, were false, this change of allegiance held peril. A
fleet pair of heels could still take him to safety, however. The count would have ample occupation while dealing with enemies closer at hand even if he did gain the throne.

  Much to Conan's disgust, Oyzhik and the princess were held as far apart as the valley allowed. The rescuers would have to divide their forces and meet at the foot of the cliff for the final scramble to safety.

  Aybas and Marr had to go for Chienna. Without Aybas, she might need calming by the piper's music, as her babe surely would. Without the piper, there would be no calming either of them.

  Oyzhik, however, was held so closely that a single man”even Conan”could fail. Wylla swore to find her father and bring him to the wizards'

  prison instead of to the princess's hut.

  Conan would have cursed Aybas, Oyzhik and the Star Brothers alike had he not feared delay or noise. It might have been simpler to refuse Aybas's oath and to silence him. But they had chosen to take that oath, and now, to Conan's mind, they were bound as closely as their new friend. A world where oaths could be cast out with the chamberpots onto the middens was a world doomed to the rule of the likes of Count Syzambry and the Star Brothers.

  As silent as a falling rose petal, at one with the shadows, the Cimmerian made his way down across the valley toward the Star Brother's lodge. Mist curled over the edge of the dam, and a faint breeze brought the reek of the beast to Conan. His face twisted at the foulness, and he would have known then, had he not been told before, that the creature was not of the world of men.

  "Hssst!"

  "Five?" Conan asked. If the reply made ten, he had met Wylla's father.

  "Five," came a gruff voice. Then a shadow that Conan had taken for a bush began to move toward him. At length it turned into a man nearly as large as the Cimmerian himself. Grizzled hair and a short beard made him resemble a patriarch, but the Cimmerian's eye made out a warrior's muscles and sinews under the man's scarred skin.