Conan the Rogue

by John Maddox Roberts

  'That is better,' said Gilmay, somewhat mollified.

  'Now it is your turn to speak,' said Conan.

  'What would you know?' Gilmay asked.

  'What know you of a beautiful, murderous, black-haired wench who may call herself Altaira?' He watched the youth closely.

  'I know nothing of such a woman!' Gilmay said, too quickly and far too emphatically.

  'Yes you do,' Conan said. 'You will need many more years and much more experience before you can lie to me with success, lad. Now tell me what you know of a strange little man who dresses like a Shadizar harlot and favours lilac scent.' To his surprise, Gilmay's face flushed scarlet and he sprang from his bench.

  'Just concentrate on finding the thing you were hired to find the barbarian!'

  'Tell your master that he has little chance of seeing the idol he wants so badly until I know more of these two. Tell him also that a smuggler named Mulvix was found dead this morning, knifed by someone who relieved him of a small parcel. Now run along and inform Casperus. Tell him also that I want no interference, ' and no games.'

  Gilmay whirled and stalked away. Conan was satisfied that he had given the bubbling pot another stir. He reapplied himself to his meal, but it seemed that he was not to be allowed even this to enjoy in peace. Another man came to stand before his table ' and he looked up to see the hulking shape of Julus, the Reeve's henchman. The brutish thug came without waiting for an invitation.

  'The Reeve would speak with you,' said Julus.

  'About what?' Conan asked.

  'That is not for me to say,' Julus maintained.

  'You are his dog and you know everything he does,' Conan said. 'Is it about the peace conference?'

  Julus studied him with small, shrewd eyes. 'Aye. It is set for tonight. Why he wants you there is beyond me. I am all the protection he needs.'

  Conan grinned at him with a predatory baring of teeth. 'Perhaps he does not trust you. I do not trust you myself. Tell me, Julus; the other night at the royal storehouse, was it Bombas who made the Zingaran shoot me with his crossbow, or was it you?'

  The man's expression betrayed nothing. 'We thought you dead already. If the Zingaran aimed at you, he must not have known at whom he aimed. It was dark.'

  'Aye, the light was poor until the place was set afire. Whose doing was that?'

  'A clumsy guardsman,' Julus said, his face as bland as ever.

  'That is what the Reeve told me,' Conan said. 'I wondered whether you would have a different story.'

  'Why should I?'

  The Cimmerian could see that he would get nothing this way. 'Why the sudden decision to hold the conference tonight? Does this latest round of killings alarm even the headmen of this town?'

  'That is a part of it,' Julus admitted. 'But there is another matter. There are scurrilous, lying tales making the rounds. They are in the mouths of every minstrel and storyteller in the district. Those vagabonds are saying that the Reeve has been stealing from the king and that he himself set the fire at the royal warehouse.' The man's deep-set eyes were steely. 'Now where would they get ideas like that?'

  'Ask them,' Conan said. 'Anyway, as you say, they must be lying.'

  'More men have been hung because of lies than were ever condemned for a truthful accusation,' Julus pointed out.

  'That is so,' Conan allowed. 'Perhaps it is time for you lo seek a new employer.''

  Julus rose. 'Be at the headquarters at nightfall, Cimmerian.' He turned and left.

  Conan released his grip on his dirk. He had thought that Emruk was the only truly dangerous man in the town. He had been wrong. He had allowed himself to be deceived by Julus's apish look and loutish manner to think the man was stupid. He had known many men to die for such misjudgements. The man was shrewd and dangerous, and like nearly everyone in this town, he was playing a game of his own.

  When his meal was finished, Conan went to the Square and idled about until he saw Delia making her usual rounds. She smiled at his approach, but it seemed to him that the usually ebullient woman was wan and nervous.

  'Conan! Where have you been?' she demanded.

  'I have been active, but mostly in the hours of darkness,' he said. The two wandered into a dark corner of the portico to speak.

  'Delia,' Conan went on, 'there is to be a peace conference tonight. I will be there, acting as the Reeve's bodyguard. He no longer trusts Julus. Will Maxio be there?'

  'I do not know! He acts so strange lately. One minute he says that there must be peace, that things have gone too far, and the next he swears that he will kill Ermak on sight, or that he will slay Bombas. Twice today he has said that he will go to the conference to reason with the others, and twice he has said that he will not. I do not know what to tell you.'

  'Tell him this for me: I will be there tonight, but I have undertaken to guard Bombas for only this conference. As long as Maxio does not threaten the Reeve, I care not what else he does. I do not as yet take sides in any of the goings-on here in Sicas.'

  'Perhaps you do not take sides,' she said, her voice gone hard, 'but you are involved in them up to those blue eyes of I yours. I think there would not be half so much chaos here were it not for you.'

  'What is the matter, Delia?' he asked cheerfully. 'Do you not like excitement?'

  'If you were with me, I think I could enjoy all this,' she said forthrightly. 'As it is, I am frightened.'

  ''Just be careful and you will come to no harm,' he said. And relay to Maxio what I have told you.'

  'I will,' she said. 'Now go. I am beginning to think that it is not a good thing to be seen in company with you. Leave me and I will go on in a little while.'

  He bade her farewell and left the niche. He had one errand yet in perform. He wandered among the vendors in the Square until lie found what he was looking for. In a corner of the market, among the poorest and pettiest of the hawkers, an old woman sat on the pavement, her aged back against a stone wall. Before her was spread a blanket bearing clay pots and bowls for sale. It was the woman from the mining village, the one who had seen him slay Ingas's three men. Casually he walked over to her, then squatted and pretended to examine her pitiful wares.

  'Greeting, Grandmother,' he said in a low voice.

  'Greeting, Cimmerian.' Her sharp old eyes darted about to search out observers.

  'I have a message for Bellas. Will you deliver it, exactly as I

  give it to you?'

  'Tell me!' Now her eyes glittered with hope.

  'Tell him this: In the hours before dawn tomorrow, all the able-bodied men of the mining village must arm themselves and travel southward, down the riverbank, until they are well out of sight of the town. I know where the women and children are being held, and if Bellas will follow my instructions exactly, you will have your families back before sundown tomorrow.'

  'I will tell him!' she said, her eyes shining with tears. She repeated his instructions word for word.

  'Very good,' Conan said. 'Now, someplace within a half-day's march downriver, all must cross to the east bank of the river. Is there a bridge or a ford, or a ferry?'

  'Aye, there is a small bridge, about five miles to the south.

  There is no true road; the bridge is used only by herders to mow cattle from one pasture to another.'

  'Perfect!' Conan said. 'Stone or wood?'

  'Wood atop old stone pilings. It falls into poor condition if nobody uses it for a few seasons.'

  'Then tell Bellas to bring along tools in case we need to repair the bridge.'

  'I will do it,' she said. 'Go with the blessings of all the gods, Cimmerian.'

  'Do not bless me until I return with your menfolk and the wives and bairns tomorrow night,' Conan cautioned. 'You could have cause to curse my name.'

  'A man who even tries to aid us earns my prayers,' the old woman maintained stoutly.

  Conan made his way back to the temple. He was glad that he knew the bridge might be in a ruinous state. He had known sizeable military operations to founder beca
use no one had thought to bring a spade, or a rope, or any of a thousand mundane items that could prove to be crucially necessary. There was more to war than men, horses and arms.

  Oppia saw him as he entered the temple. She -was upset, and for once it was not because of his lengthy absences from the place.

  'Come,' she said. 'Look at this!' She took him by the hand and tugged him toward the nave. Inside were the acolytes, as well as some of the newcomers who had been there the night Andolla had performed his statue trick. The hall shook with loud chanting and the orchestra played as before, but now something was different. A dense, crimson glow hovered shapelessly above the head of Mother Doorgah. Andolla chanted with arms outspread. He sat cross-legged, but this time, instead of sitting directly upon the lap of the goddess, he hovered two or three feet above it.

  'How is he doing it?' Conan asked. 'Wires?'

  'No, you fool' she hissed. 'The glow began to form during the morning offices. This afternoon my husband attempted the spell of levitation, and this time it worked. His magical powers have increased tenfold!'

  'Perhaps Mother Doorgah smiles upon him,' Conan said. Oppia favoured him with a withering glare.

  'This is probably harmless,' she said, 'but I fear that his success may tempt him to try some truly dangerous work of wizardry.'

  'Would that not attract even more worshippers, with yet more generous donations?'

  'The risk is too great. I fear that my husband does not truly understand the powers he toys with. Something terrible could come of this.'

  'That would be a great pity,' Conan said. 'Oppia, I must be away for part of this night.'

  'It is good of you to tell me, for once,' she said in a voice that might have drawn blood.

  'This is important business,' he went on imperturbably. 'There is to be a peace conference tonight, with most of the town's gang leaders in attendance. Bombas will be there as well, and he has asked me to go with him as his bodyguard. He no longer trusts his own men.'

  'What makes him think he can trust you?' she demanded.

  'We Cimmerians are known to be true to our word,' he said.

  'All sorts of men have that reputation,' she said bitterly, 'but I have never encountered one of them.'

  'Even so, the happenings at the meeting might be of interest to you,' he pointed out.

  She thought about it for a while. 'Yes, you are right. It would be good to know whether there is to be peace here, and if not, how the battle lines are to be drawn. Go then, and report to me when you return.'

  'You may be asleep when I get back,' he pointed out.

  'I rarely get any rest now,' she said. She stared at the bizarre spectacle in the temple. 'And it looks as if I will be getting even less.'

  Conan went to the upper floor and looked in upon Rietta. She was in deep and, for once, peaceful sleep. She was no longer a pale and listless as she had been, and she was putting on a bit of flesh. Soon, he judged, she would be strong enough for him to carry her away from his place without her dying from the shock.

  When he arrived at the Reeve's headquarters, Julus and the remaining Zingaran eyed him without favour. Conan returned the look. Both men were heavily armed. None of the knock-kneed and feeble guards seemed to be present. Soon Bombas came from within his chambers, muffled in a heavy cloak.

  'Do we go to the Wyvern?' Conan asked.

  'No,' the Reeve said. 'Ingas will regard that place only as Lisip's territory. All finally agreed to the Guildhall of the Goldsmiths. It is but two streets south of the Square. It is a small place, only two stories, with no other buildings adjoining and grounds all the way around. We will meet on the upper floor. Each of us is to be accompanied by no more than three followers. Only one may accompany each leader upstairs. The others may stay downstairs or, if we wish it, on the grounds outside.'

  'I've seen peace conferences between warring nations carried out with less caution,' Conan said.

  'The stakes here are the same,' Bombas rejoined. 'Death one who walks into a trap unprepared.'

  They left the headquarters and crossed the Square. The public area contained its usual evening population, but nobody spared a glance for the four hooded, arms-clinking men who walked southward. They entered the maze of side streets and in a few minutes stood before the goldsmiths' guildhall. This had once been a town-house and was surrounded by handsome gardens, where now armed men paced. Julus spoke to the Zingaran, and that one joined the milling men in the gardens.

  'He will warn us if anybody of men tries to steal close, Excellency,' said Julus.

  'Come along,' said Bombas, and the three men entered the hall.

  The ground floor was well appointed, intended for the entertainments held periodically by the wealthy guild. Just now a number of men sat in the lavishly upholstered and carven furniture, their feet propped upon the fine dining table. Some had laid aside their rivalries and were dicing.

  'Wait you here,' Bombas said to Julus. Then, to Conan, 'Attend me, Cimmerian.' Conan followed the Reeve up a broad, curving stair to the upper floor. They entered a long room, where the guild conducted business. It was as well appointed and highly decorated as the room below, but its only furnishing was a single long table, lined with massive chairs. Here sat the men they were to meet with.

  'It is about time you got here,' said Ingas, his gold-embroidered, red-leather costume glowing richly in the light of many candles.

  'I am the King's Reeve, and I hurry for no man who is not my better in rank. I see none such present.'

  'What is that rogue doing here?' Ingas demanded, pointing at Conan.

  'He attends me,' Bombas said. 'Each of us was to bring one guard, and he is mine. Has anyone an objection to that?' He stared haughtily down the table.

  'I have no problem,' said Lisip.

  Ermak shrugged armoured shoulders. 'You may come attended by a dancing bear for all I care.'

  These three Conan recognized. There were others, leaders of minor gangs, but they kept silence in the presence of their betters. The Cimmerian made a circuit of the room, looking out of each window.

  'Where is Maxio?' he asked when he had completed his survey.

  'He has not arrived yet,' said Lisip. 'I doubt that he will show himself. Something has him acting like a madman lately.'

  'Let's kill him and be done with it!' said Ermak, pounding a gauntleted fist upon the table. 'His little band are just burglars; they contribute nothing to our wealth.' He turned to Bombas, and his neatly trimmed beard was split by a narrow smile. 'Save

  the percentage of their takings that they share with his Excellency.'

  'We do not come here to speak of killing, but of an end lo killing,' Bombas said. He spread his hands in an appeal to calm and reason. 'At the very least, let us keep the slaying down to n sensible level, as we did in the old days. The blood-letting confined to the Pit, perhaps a throat-cutting or two, and the bodies in the river before daylight... who will take notice of such small matters? Certainly not I or my fellow royal officials. But pitched battles in broad daylight in the Square and in the high street? These things cannot but draw attention.'

  'What will draw the king's attention,' said a loud voice from the doorway, 'is your plundering!'

  'I wondered when you would show up, Maxio,' said Ingas. 'Now you and Ermak can have it out right here on the table.'

  'I'd be as happy to cut that one's fat throat,' said Maxio, pointing at Bombas.

  'Any who threatens the Reeve is a dead man,' said Conan. 'He is my charge for the evening. How you and Ermak want to settle things is up to you.'

  Bombas looked at the Cimmerian with annoyance. 'Do not provoke them.' He turned back to face down the table. 'Now, how shall we settle this? First, I urge an immediate cessation of all hostilities. These raids and ambushes are worse than disruptive, they are unprofitable! Who gains from such tactics?'

  'You,' said Maxio. He took a chair and propped his feet insolently upon the table. A gaunt, hollow-eyed dagger-man took up station behind Maxio's chai
r. 'Every battle weakens us and stuffs money in your purse. As you grow more frightened, your greed increases. Once we paid you ten percent of our takings to stay out of your dungeon. Then it became fifteen. Now, so terrified are you that you want twenty-five! I can see the tallow oozing out of your pores at the prospect that the king will take notice of you. How long before you want the whole of it?''

  'Is that all?' Bombas asked. 'Very well. For the sake of restoring peace to my city, I am willing to accept ten percent once again. Now I ask you: Could I be more fair than that?'

  'Just as I thought!' It was another voice from the doorway. All turned to see Xanthus standing there. 'You scoundrels now conspire to divide up my city in secrecy!'

  'Your city!' shouted Bombas, his face crimsoning. ' am King's Reeve here, not you. You are a mere low-bred merchant, no better than a slave trader! What business have you here, mine factor?'

  'You suffer from the delusion that you are a nobleman, you base-born heap of lard,' said Xanthus with withering contempt. 'You earned your rank through treachery, flattery, and your unfailing obsequiousness to your superiors. Do not strike haughty poses with me, Bombas. You are merely the richest thief in Sicas'

  This, Conan thought, was even better than the bickering of the gang chiefs. Then Ermak spoke.

  'Nay, that would be you, Xanthus. I keep the miners sweet for you, else you'd not have a head on your shoulders. You squeeze their blood and steal the king's silver. A gilded thief is still a thief.'

  'We are all thieves here.' The monotone voice of Lisip cut through the banter. 'Let us get back to our business in this place. I did not come here tonight because I relish the company of this lot.'

  'Aye,' said Ermak, 'let us settle things and be done with it.'

  'Will you all,' Bombas said, 'agree to the immediate cessation of hostilities?''