The Conan Compendium

by Various Authors

  To be sure, as captain-general, he would have been a leading member of any Council of Regency. But there would have been others, more each day as nobles with more loyalty than strength rallied to the royal standard.

  Some of these nobles considered themselves well-versed in war. They would not seek Decius's office, but neither would they cease to advise him how to conduct it. As for what they would say to Conan being captain of the Guard, or to Raihna and Aybas being captains at all, or Marr the Piper's very presence in the camp”Decius was happy that he would not have to listen to any of it.

  All he would have to listen to was Chienna saying, "We wish it done,"

  or "We do not wish this done," and then obey. It was enough to make a man not merely believe in the gods, but to be convinced that they had some concern for justice and decency among men.

  "May my master not even expect a pardon?" Count Syzambry's messenger queried.

  The queen's eyebrows drew together in a way that Decius had seen a hundred times, ever since she was a child. No furious words followed, however. Her dignity was indeed regal as she merely said: "Our words were simple. 'Without conditions.' Are you or your master deaf, that you cannot understand?"

  The messenger seemed to at least understand that he would gain no more by staying, and perhaps lose the chance to make a dignified withdrawal.

  He made it, and shortly afterward the clatter of hooves told of his departure.

  Decius made the rounds of the sentries, told them to keep a watch for the return of Conan's picked men from their training march, then had a brief audience with the queen. She was trimming her toenails with a soldier's knife as they spoke, but it seemed to Decius that she was more graceful than ever.

  "We did not ask your advice before refusing the count's offer," she said. "For this, We ask your forgiveness. Do you think it was worth more of a hearing than We gave it?"

  Decius's laughter was a harsh bark. "Count Syzambry is trying to enlist your aid to save a lost cause."

  "Or the tales may be true, that he has Pougoi allies as well and fears them as much as he does Us," Chienna pointed out.

  Decius's dignity would not allow him to gape, but his face revealed enough to make the queen laugh. "Decius, I should be angry at your thinking I am not old enough to hear such things. Remember, I am Queen of the Border, a poor queen, perhaps, but all the realm has”unless you think that Count Syzambry really should rule?"

  Try as he would, Decius could not laugh at that jest. "Captain Conan would be ten times fitter for the crown than Syzambry."

  "At least," the queen said. She put the knife away and drew her stained robe down over her bare feet. "We are well pleased with your service and value your counsel. May We always be able to trust them as We do today."

  Decius bowed himself out, thinking that wishes, even royal wishes, could not bind the gods. He was twice Chienna's age and would be fortunate indeed if he lived to teach Prince Urras the art of war.

  Perhaps he should marry again. After burying a wife and three sons, it might be tempting fate, but his children and Urras might grow together.

  The prince would need friends and playmates, certainly, and”

  "My lord Decius. Do you wish to be alone?"

  It was Raihna, who had come out of the darkness beside the path as silently as a cat. Decius started to nod, then knew that in his heart he did not wish to be alone.

  "Mistress Raihna, in truth I would enjoy your company."

  They walked side by side to the captain-general's tent. They were a sword's length apart, and Raihna's garb was no more revealing than usual, yet Decius had never been so aware of her as a woman.

  They sat on furs just inside the mouth of Decius's tent. The captain-general sent away his bodyservant and drew a skin of wine from under the furs.

  "Poor hospitality, I fear."

  "No hospitality is poor when the host is a treasure."

  Decius hoped that the firelight did not reveal him flushing like a boy.

  He sensed that there was more than Raihna's nimble tongue in that praise.

  Raihna drank deeply, then handed the skin to Decius. In doing so, she let some drops fall on his wrist.

  "Forgive me, my lord. Here, let me¦"

  She put her mouth to his wrist and began licking off the wine.

  That Decius had been long a widower did not make him a fool. He put both hands under Raihna's chin and lifted her face to receive his kiss.

  Her mouth bloomed under his, and her arms went around him.

  It was amazing how swiftly the lacings of armor could be undone by skilled fingers. There was nothing amazing about what followed, unless it was that Raihna was even fairer to look at than Decius had suspected.

  It was not until Raihna was sleeping in his arms that Decius realized they had not closed the tent flaps. They had been tumbling in the furs, clad only in the firelight, in full sight of anyone who wished to wander by. Had Conan chosen to pass along this path”

  No. Decius would take the word of both Conan and Raihna that the woman was her own mistress. After that, he would take her into his arms again, if she was willing.

  He dared not think about taking her to wife, not until the battle was won. That would be tempting the gods, and for now, they had given him enough and to spare. His thought on leaving the queen had been a true one: the gods did have some care for humans.

  Conan returned to the camp at dawn. The men he was taking against Count Syzambry had needed little more training, save at setting ambushes by night. This he had given them, and they now knew as much as he thought necessary.

  The Pougoi was masters of them all in the art of night fighting, he knew. But the queen did not care to send the tribesmen far afield and out of reach of her loyal men. Thyrin had borne this with more grace than Conan expected, although no one could call the man pleased. The gods willing, he should even be able to keep the peace among his warriors”

  It was no great surprise for Conan to find that Raihna was not in his tent. It was somewhat more of a surprise to see that her clothing and weapons had likewise departed. It was a considerable surprise indeed to find Wylla asleep in the furs.

  At least the hair spread out over the furs was the color of Wylla's, and the shapely bare arm that trailed off onto the floor of the tent was that of a woman as young and comely. Conan removed his boots and crept on hands and knees to the furs. Kneeling, he gripped the furs with one hand and poised the other over the arm.

  Then he snatched the furs away. The morning light proved what he had suspected. Wylla lay there, as bare as a newborn babe and much more pleasing to look at. She also lay so deeply asleep that Conan realized other measures than removing the furs might be called for.

  He bent over, ready to kiss her.

  Her arms took on a life of their own, leaping up to twine round his neck. She embraced him so tightly that she lifted herself clear of the furs, pressing her whole length against him. Conan felt every curve, and the heat of her blood flowed into his.

  Wylla began to croon softly as Conan returned her embrace. Conan knew a moment's unease at the singing, but he soon passed beyond caring about such matters. Wylla saw to that.

  The song ended as Wylla curled against him, taking and giving warmth, one hand still twined in the Cimmerian's black hair. The silence lasted until Conan's laughter broke forth.

  "What is the jest, Conan?"

  "I hope it ends as a jest, you being here."

  "You fear Marr?"

  "I fear offending any man who had that power."

  "It shames both him and me to say that you need fear anything from this she patted the furs.

  "You and Raihna."

  "Eh? Oh, that we are both our own mistresses?"

  "Yes. Although I do not think that Mistress Raihna will be so free for long. Not if Decius lives

  Conan's laugh was louder this time. "I won't ask where Raihna spent the night, because I think I know. But I will ask this. Did she”?"

  "Send me? Of c
ourse. She said that Decius was not made by the gods to be as alone as he was. You were, but no man should be without a woman on the eve of what might be his last battle. So I came, and you were not."

  "Suppose I turn you over my knee for speaking ill-omened words about last battles?"

  "Oh, if that is your pleasure She wriggled, raising herself so that he could pull her over his knee if he wished. At the same time, her hands danced along Conan's limbs in a way that could have only one conclusion. This time Wylla fell asleep when they were done.

  Conan did not sleep. Quietly he slipped from under the furs, garbed and armed himself, and went to find his rest under a pine tree just inside the sentry line.

  He would not ask the gods to let him understand women, even if they could give him that power. But would it be too much to ask that women should not understand him as easily as Raihna seemed to?

  Chapter 18

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  The scout was looking over his shoulder when his time came, not ahead as he should have been. Small shame to him, however. He was an honest trapper's almost equally honest son, who had taken service with Count Syzambry many years ago.

  He had not imagined then that he would end as the scout for a host led only in name by the count. He had not imagined that the Pougoi wizards, the Star Brothers, were even real, let alone that they would come forth from their valley.

  As for believing that they could put fear into the count and all his host”a thousand men or more” the scout would have called it madness. He would have suggested that the speaker needed physicking, to restore his wits.

  And if by some chance he had believed that he would end serving the Star Brothers, he would have fled the Border Kingdom as fast as his feet would carry him. Indeed, he would have crawled, if need be, to put distance between himself and those monster-worshipers.

  Not having fled, or even left the count's service, the scout was now bound to his master and his duty. Bound as with bands of iron by loyalty to his comrades, oaths to the count”and by stark terror of the Star Brothers.

  It was that terror that made the scout look back over his shoulder at the wrong moment. He had just decided that no spy for the wizards followed close on his heels when a hand like steel closed on his sword arm.

  The scout tried to whirl around, cry out, and draw his sword with his left hand. He accomplished none of these. Another hand clamped itself over his mouth, both hands jerked, and he soared through the air into the bushes as his sword flew out of his hand.

  Conan tapped the scout's head gently against a fir trunk, and the man went limp. The Cimmerian listened to the man's breathing, judged him fit to travel, and slung him over his broad shoulders.

  Carrying his prisoner as he would the carcass of a deer, Conan loped away from the trail and deep into the woods. Only when he was beyond any human senses did he turn west, toward the royal vanguard that awaited him.

  Count Syzambry was short of stature, not of sight. He was also a warrior of great experience and proven courage.

  So he rode forward when a messenger from his scouts came to tell of the missing man. He sent the messenger ahead again, with orders for the scouts to hold where they were. Then he rode swiftly with a small escort to join them.

  After joining the scouts, Syzambry dismounted. He needed help to do so, which his men gave willingly, but he no longer had to stifle gasps of pain. After he had examined the ground closely, he needed no help in climbing back on his mount.

  Some of the aches and pains had to be stiffness from being too long in the saddle. He had not ridden for so long that he had almost forgotten something he learned as a boy!

  He laughed, which seemed to hearten his men. Those who served him out of loyalty rather than greed or fear had felt for their lord's pain and weakness. They were glad to see him leading as he had done before.

  It gave them more hope of victory and less fear of the Pougoi wizards.

  They had no fears of the royal host. What could a ragged band of fugitives half their strength, fighting on behalf of a woman, really hope to do?

  The count's laughter ended quickly as another messenger cantered up.

  This one was of the Pougoi, and the Star Brothers spoke through his mouth. They also heard through his ears but did not, to the best of Syzambry's knowledge, see through his eyes.

  "Hail, Brothers. I wish I had better news," the count said.

  "What is it?" The Star Brothers had learned enough of war in recent days to know the value of time.

  Syzambry explained what the disappearance of the scout might mean. "Of course, he may simply have fled in fear," the count ended. "If so, I give you leave to hunt him down as you wish."

  That was an invitation for the Star Brothers to use their magic to bring the scout to heel. The count had offered such invitations several times since his host marched. Each time, the Star Brothers had refused.

  They either had less magic than they claimed, or they feared the spells of Marr the Piper more than they admitted.

  It hardly mattered. If the Star Brothers could remove Marr from the balance of the coming battle, the count was sure of victory. Then, before the wizards could become suspicious, it would be time to settle with them.

  "We do not wish to spend our strength against a single common man," the messenger replied. "His death would prove nothing, except our presence with this host."

  At last, something like a reason for the silence of the Star Brothers!

  Syzambry doubted that the royal captains were ignorant of the Star Brother's presence. If they had been, the scout would tell them soon enough, and it would need no magic to loose his tongue. Hot irons would serve as well.

  Still, if the Star Brothers wished their presence concealed to the last, it did Syzambry no harm to humor them. The more they thought he did their bidding, the less they would be on their guard after the battle.

  "Very well," Syzambry said. "I judge that we should slow our advance, however. The scouts must walk two, even four, in company, with archers close at hand. Also, I think I shall send more scouts out to either flank. A royal captain has thought to snatch a man of our vanguard. His next scheme may be to ambush it. If we can find the rear of those ambushers before they find our flank

  "Such matters of war we leave to you," the messenger said.

  That was exactly where they belonged, the count considered. If the Star Brothers ever tried to take the command of his host from him, he might have to fight a battle to his rear as well as to his front.

  Conan had seen councils of war meet in better heart. Most of those, however, were composed of fools who did not know the chances of the forthcoming battle. A few had met before battles where the odds were so much in their favor that only a fool could waste strength in worrying.

  None of the men and women here in the royal tent were fools. All of them knew that tomorrow's battle was one against long odds, and that it could go either way.

  They also knew that, win or lose, it would bring a decision in the war in the Border Kingdom. The land would not be harried for years by the contending hosts, until no babe could be born or crop harvested in safety.

  "Rather than bring that fate to the land, I would flee to the Black Coast," Chlenna said. "I would even drive my dagger into my own breast and dash Prince Urras's brains out on the nearest rock."

  Decius flinched at hearing such words from Chienna, and he shot an anguished look at the woman he might have loved. Would have loved, save for the whim of the gods that made her his half-sister.

  Conan hoped for Decius's sake that he would soon grow used to plain-spoken women of iron will. The captain-general seemed resolved to wed one, and she would not change to please him or any man.

  "Let's not be burying our cause before it has stopped breathing," Conan said. "With all due respect, Your Majesty."

  "How much respect do you think is due a queen, Captain Conan?" Chienna asked. Her face was hard, but Conan thought he saw a hint of a smile at one corner of her mouth a
nd more than a hint of laughter in her wide eyes.

  "As much as she earns," Conan said, and this time not only Chienna but the rest of the council laughed aloud.

  Talk turned swiftly to the morrow's battle. Knowing that the Star Brothers were among the count's host somewhat confined the scope of their plans now.

  Marr the Piper had to be protected. He was confident that he could hold back the Star Brothers' spells; he was not sure that he could leave the Star Brothers helpless against a well-wielded sword.

  As for striking down them or anyone else with his magical piping”

  "The gods did not make me fit to do that," Marr said firmly.

  "Fit, or willing?" Decius asked.

  "Peace, my lord Decius," the queen said. "Thyrin, you seem eager to speak."

  "Marr is telling no more than the truth," the Pougoi chief said. "His spells are not to be wielded as a sword, like those of the Star Brothers. They are more kin to a shield, or to a good leather helm."

  Conan hoped that Marr's piping would be more like iron than leather.

  Leather helms had a way of letting the skull within them shatter at a shrewd blow. If he was going to fight with magic as a friend as well as a foe, Conan wanted the friends to overmatch the foes.

  He also wanted to know if Thyrin was telling the truth or merely favoring Marr in the hope that he would finally declare for Wylla.

  Having his daughter wed to the legendary Marr the Piper could make Thyrin mighty in the land, not just among the Pougoi.

  He would certainly be undisputed chief among any Pougoi who lived to see tomorrow's sunset.

  As to how they would array the royal host”if five hundred men deserved that title”much would have to wait on the morrow. They could resolve to march in such order that the arraying would be swift. It would also be as well if Queen Chienna were in a safe place, or at least in a well-guarded one.

  "Give the queen first claim on any men we can spare from the fighting line," Marr said. Wylla threw him a stricken look, and he patted her hand.

  "No, this is not folly. I am no great warrior, but I am fleet of foot.