Read Online Conan The Freelance by Steve Perry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steve Perry
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territory.
The big Cimmerian quartered the area, with the sun baking his tanned skin darker all the while. Here, two members of the selkies had moved to meet a single footman from the Pili. One of the selkies had carried something heavy enough to make him sink deeper into the soft ground when he approached the meeting, but had not carried it away when he left. On the other hand, the Pili had left much deeper tracks when he had turned back toward his party. There was a depression in the earth, just there, where something smaller than a man but large enough to be a boy had been dropped. Whatever it was, the Pili had taken it.
Unschooled in civilized ways Conan might be, but he could read trail sign. The selkies had given something to the Pili here. According to what Cheen had told him as they began their trek, the selkies and Pili were not on friendly terms, as likely to fight when meeting as not, especially on Pili home ground.
Conan raised from his squat by the tracks. He looked toward the north, where the Pili tracks led. The lizard men ate human flesh, Cheen had said. Conan could imagine that a bargain might have been struck, with the boy Hok as some kind of bribe.
Which way should he go? The selkies’ trail lay to the east, and they had taken both the magic Seed and the boy. But if the Pili now had Hok, he was possibly in more peril than before; like as not, the selkies would keep him until they returned to their master; the Pili, on the other hand, might eat him sooner.
Conan decided. The Seed would keep indefinitely, but the boy might not. He would go north.
Conan stripped a dry branch from one of the scrub plants, broke it into a number of parts, and made from it an arrow he laid on the ground, pointing after the Pili trail. Under this, he created a small stick figure meant to represent Hok. A second arrow indicated the selkie trail, and under this one, he formed an outline of a seed. When Cheen and Tair and the others reached here, they would know which way Conan had gone, and why. With luck, they would find the picture before the wind covered it with dust.
The big man took a long sip of water from the skin he carried over one shoulder, adjusted his sword belt, and started north.
The storm that delayed the selkies was but one of several, and while Kleg fretted at the delay, there was nothing to be done. A god might move the rain, but a selkie could do nothing but wait.
There were several ponds that had been shallow and scummy only hours before but now were quite deep. And as long as they were stuck here, Kleg finally decided it might as well be a pleasant stay.
“Bring one of the scrats,” he ordered one of his selkies. He had to yell to be heard over the steady downpour. “Shove it off that rise into that lake.”
“My Lord Prime?” the selkie began, puzzled.
Kleg smiled widely, showing many teeth. “Perhaps the brothers would enjoy a swim-with a bit of dinner included?”
The selkie mirrored Kleg’s smile. “Yes, Prime, immediately!”
Thayla was returning from the kitchen, where she had been discussing the preparation of the upcoming Moon Festival feast, when she heard some kind of commotion outside. Could her husband have retrieved the magic talisman already?
The queen stopped a young female returning from the main entrance to the caves. “What is that noise outside?”
The female, naked save for a leather crotch strap, but too young for anything other than budding breasts and a distant promise of more, bowed and said, “The Korga, my lady.”
“I thought the king took the Korga with him.”
“Not all, my lady.”
Thayla went to see for herself what the beasts were hissing and moaning about.
Outside, the desert wind blew warmly, but with a hint of moisture. It appeared to be raining to the east, but more than a little distance away. Rain here was a rarity; it did not happen more than once or twice every season, and not plentifully at that.
The Korga master stood yelling at six or
The big Cimmerian quartered the area, with the sun baking his tanned skin darker all the while. Here, two members of the selkies had moved to meet a single footman from the Pili. One of the selkies had carried something heavy enough to make him sink deeper into the soft ground when he approached the meeting, but had not carried it away when he left. On the other hand, the Pili had left much deeper tracks when he had turned back toward his party. There was a depression in the earth, just there, where something smaller than a man but large enough to be a boy had been dropped. Whatever it was, the Pili had taken it.
Unschooled in civilized ways Conan might be, but he could read trail sign. The selkies had given something to the Pili here. According to what Cheen had told him as they began their trek, the selkies and Pili were not on friendly terms, as likely to fight when meeting as not, especially on Pili home ground.
Conan raised from his squat by the tracks. He looked toward the north, where the Pili tracks led. The lizard men ate human flesh, Cheen had said. Conan could imagine that a bargain might have been struck, with the boy Hok as some kind of bribe.
Which way should he go? The selkies’ trail lay to the east, and they had taken both the magic Seed and the boy. But if the Pili now had Hok, he was possibly in more peril than before; like as not, the selkies would keep him until they returned to their master; the Pili, on the other hand, might eat him sooner.
Conan decided. The Seed would keep indefinitely, but the boy might not. He would go north.
Conan stripped a dry branch from one of the scrub plants, broke it into a number of parts, and made from it an arrow he laid on the ground, pointing after the Pili trail. Under this, he created a small stick figure meant to represent Hok. A second arrow indicated the selkie trail, and under this one, he formed an outline of a seed. When Cheen and Tair and the others reached here, they would know which way Conan had gone, and why. With luck, they would find the picture before the wind covered it with dust.
The big man took a long sip of water from the skin he carried over one shoulder, adjusted his sword belt, and started north.
The storm that delayed the selkies was but one of several, and while Kleg fretted at the delay, there was nothing to be done. A god might move the rain, but a selkie could do nothing but wait.
There were several ponds that had been shallow and scummy only hours before but now were quite deep. And as long as they were stuck here, Kleg finally decided it might as well be a pleasant stay.
“Bring one of the scrats,” he ordered one of his selkies. He had to yell to be heard over the steady downpour. “Shove it off that rise into that lake.”
“My Lord Prime?” the selkie began, puzzled.
Kleg smiled widely, showing many teeth. “Perhaps the brothers would enjoy a swim-with a bit of dinner included?”
The selkie mirrored Kleg’s smile. “Yes, Prime, immediately!”
Thayla was returning from the kitchen, where she had been discussing the preparation of the upcoming Moon Festival feast, when she heard some kind of commotion outside. Could her husband have retrieved the magic talisman already?
The queen stopped a young female returning from the main entrance to the caves. “What is that noise outside?”
The female, naked save for a leather crotch strap, but too young for anything other than budding breasts and a distant promise of more, bowed and said, “The Korga, my lady.”
“I thought the king took the Korga with him.”
“Not all, my lady.”
Thayla went to see for herself what the beasts were hissing and moaning about.
Outside, the desert wind blew warmly, but with a hint of moisture. It appeared to be raining to the east, but more than a little distance away. Rain here was a rarity; it did not happen more than once or twice every season, and not plentifully at that.
The Korga master stood yelling at six or
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