Shadows in the Moonlight

by Robert E. Howard

again into the woods below.

  'We'll go to the cliffs,' he declared, lifting her to her feet.'Tomorrow I'll make a raft, and we'll trust our luck to the sea again.'

  'It was not--not _they_ that destroyed our boat?' It was half question,half assertion.

  He shook his head, grimly taciturn.

  Every step of the way across that moon-haunted plateau was a sweatingterror for Olivia, but no black shapes stole subtly from the loomingruins, and at last they reached the foot of the crags, which rose starkand gloomily majestic above them. There Conan halted in someuncertainty, at last selecting a place sheltered by a broad ledge,nowhere near any trees.

  'Lie down and sleep if you can, Olivia,' he said. 'I'll keep watch.'

  But no sleep came to Olivia, and she lay watching the distant ruins andthe wooded rim until the stars paled, the east whitened, and dawn inrose and gold struck fire from the dew on the grass-blades.

  She rose stiffly, her mind reverting to all the happenings of the night.In the morning light some of its terrors seemed like figments of anoverwrought imagination. Conan strode over to her, and his wordselectrified her.

  'Just before dawn I heard the creak of timbers and the rasp and clack ofcordage and oars. A ship has put in and anchored at the beach not faraway--probably the ship whose sail we saw yesterday. We'll go up thecliffs and spy on her.'

  Up they went, and lying on their bellies among the boulders, saw apainted mast jutting up beyond the trees to the west.

  'An Hyrkanian craft, from the cut of her rigging,' muttered Conan. 'Iwonder if the crew--'

  A distant medley of voices reached their ears, and creeping to thesouthern edge of the cliffs, they saw a motley horde emerge from thefringe of trees along the western rim of the plateau, and stand there aspace in debate. There was much flourishing of arms, brandishing ofswords, and loud rough argument. Then the whole band started across theplateau toward the ruins, at a slant that would take them close by thefoot of the cliffs.

  'Pirates!' whispered Conan, a grim smile on his thin lips. 'It's anHyrkanian galley they've captured. Here--crawl among these rocks.

  'Don't show yourself unless I call to you,' he instructed, havingsecreted her to his satisfaction among a tangle of boulders along thecrest of the cliffs. 'I'm going to meet these dogs. If I succeed in myplan, all will be well, and we'll sail away with them. If I don'tsucceed--well, hide yourself in the rocks until they're gone, for nodevils on this island are as cruel as these sea-wolves.'

  And tearing himself from her reluctant grasp, he swung quickly down thecliffs.

  Looking fearfully from her eyrie, Olivia saw the band had neared thefoot of the cliffs. Even as she looked, Conan stepped out from among theboulders and faced them, sword in hand. They gave back with yells ofmenace and surprize; then halted uncertainly to glare at this figurewhich had appeared so suddenly from the rocks. There were some seventyof them, a wild horde made up of men from many nations: Kothians,Zamorians, Brythunians, Corinthians, Shemites. Their features reflectedthe wildness of their natures. Many bore the scars of the lash or thebranding-iron. There were cropped ears, slit noses, gaping eye-sockets,stumps of wrists--marks of the hangman as well as scars of battle. Mostof them were half naked, but the garments they wore were fine;gold-braided jackets, satin girdles, silken breeches, tattered, stainedwith tar and blood, vied with pieces of silver-chased armor. Jewelsglittered in nose-rings and ear-rings, and in the hilts of theirdaggers.

  Over against this bizarre mob stood the tall Cimmerian in strongcontrast with his hard bronzed limbs and clean-cut vital features.

  'Who are you?' they roared.

  'Conan the Cimmerian!' His voice was like the deep challenge of a lion.'One of the Free Companions. I mean to try my luck with the RedBrotherhood. Who's your chief?'

  'I, by Ishtar!' bellowed a bull-like voice, as a huge figure swaggeredforward: a giant, naked to the waist, where his capacious belly wasgirdled by a wide sash that upheld voluminous silken pantaloons. Hishead was shaven except for a scalp-lock, his mustaches dropped over arat-trap mouth. Green Shemitish slippers with upturned toes were on hisfeet, a long straight sword in his hand.

  Conan stared and glared.

  'Sergius of Khrosha, by Crom!'

  'Aye, by Ishtar!' boomed the giant, his small black eyes glittering withhate. 'Did you think I had forgot? Ha! Sergius never forgets an enemy.Now I'll hang you up by the heels and skin you alive. At him, lads!'

  'Aye, send your dogs at me, big-belly,' sneered Conan with bitter scorn.'You were always a coward, you Kothic cur.'

  'Coward! To me?' The broad face turned black with passion. 'On guard,you northern dog! I'll cut out your heart!'

  In an instant the pirates had formed a circle about the rivals, theireyes blazing, their breath sucking between their teeth in bloodthirstyenjoyment. High up among the crags Olivia watched, sinking her nailsinto her palms in her painful excitement.

  Without formality the combatants engaged, Sergius coming in with a rush,quick on his feet as a giant cat, for all his bulk. Curses hissedbetween his clenched teeth as he lustily swung and parried. Conan foughtin silence, his eyes slits of blue bale-fire.

  The Kothian ceased his oaths to save his breath. The only sounds werethe quick scuff of feet on the sward, the panting of the pirate, thering and clash of steel. The swords flashed like white fire in the earlysun, wheeling and circling. They seemed to recoil from each other'scontact, then leap together again instantly. Sergius was giving back;only his superlative skill had saved him thus far from the blindingspeed of the Cimmerian's onslaught. A louder clash of steel, a slidingrasp, a choking cry--from the pirate horde a fierce yell split themorning as Conan's sword plunged through their captain's massive body.The point quivered an instant from between Sergius's shoulders, a hand'sbreadth of white fire in the sunlight; then the Cimmerian wrenched backhis steel and the pirate chief fell heavily, face down, and lay in awidening pool of blood, his broad hands twitching for an instant.

  Conan wheeled toward the gaping corsairs.

  'Well, you dogs!' he roared. 'I've sent your chief to hell. What saysthe law of the Red Brotherhood?'

  Before any could answer, a rat-faced Brythunian, standing behind hisfellows, whirled a sling swiftly and deadly. Straight as an arrow spedthe stone to its mark, and Conan reeled and fell as a tall tree falls tothe woodsman's ax. Up on the cliff Olivia caught at the boulders forsupport. The scene swam dizzily before her eyes; all she could see wasthe Cimmerian lying limply on the sward, blood oozing from his head.

  The rat-faced one yelped in triumph and ran to stab the prostrate man,but a lean Corinthian thrust him back.

  'What, Aratus, would you break the law of the Brotherhood, you dog?'

  'No law is broken,' snarled the Brythunian.

  'No law? Why, you dog, this man you have just struck down is by justrights our captain!'

  'Nay!' shouted Aratus. 'He was not of our band, but an outsider. He hadnot been admitted to fellowship. Slaying Sergius does not make himcaptain, as would have been the case had one of us killed him.'

  'But he wished to join us,' retorted the Corinthian. 'He said so.'

  At that a great clamor arose, some siding with Aratus, some with theCorinthian, whom they called Ivanos. Oaths flew thick, challenges werepassed, hands fumbled at sword-hilts.

  At last a Shemite spoke up above the clamor: 'Why do you argue over adead man?'

  'He's not dead,' answered the Corinthian, rising from beside theprostrate Cimmerian. 'It was a glancing blow; he's only stunned.'

  At that the clamor rose anew, Aratus trying to get at the senseless manand Ivanos finally bestriding him, sword in hand, and defying all andsundry. Olivia sensed that it was not so much in defense of Conan thatthe Corinthian took his stand, but in opposition to Aratus. Evidentlythese men had been Sergius's lieutenants, and there was no love lostbetween them. After more arguments, it was decided to bind Conan andtake him along with them, his fate to be voted on later.

  The Cimmerian, who was beginning to
regain consciousness, was bound withleather girdles, and then four pirates lifted him, and with manycomplaints and curses, carried him along with the band, which took upits journey across the plateau once more. The body of Sergius was leftwhere it had fallen; a sprawling, unlovely shape on the sun-washedsward.

  Up among the rocks, Olivia lay stunned by the disaster. She wasincapable of speech or action, and could only lie there and stare withhorrified eyes as the brutal horde dragged her protector away.

  How long she lay there, she did not know. Across the plateau she saw thepirates reach the ruins and enter, dragging their captive. She saw themswarming in and out of the doors and crevices, prodding into the heapsof debris, and