Conan the Relentless Part 17

"But what other path is there for me, oh G.o.ds?"

Neither the skies, the wind, nor the rocks beneath, answered Aybas's cry.

Conan had hopes of taking the Second Company out into the field to put a final polish on its new skills. Decius had other plans.

"If Syzambry has half the men we think he does," the captain-general said, "we have no hope against him in the open. The more we guard the palace, the less harm he can do."

"The more we guard the palace, the more we leave the count a free hand everywhere else," Conan replied. "I'm a stranger here. I don't know how many friends Eloikas has outside the palace-"

"That's King Eloikas to you, Cimmerian," Decius snapped. "And you say truly, you are a stranger here."

"A stranger who's seen his share of battles and intrigues," Conan reminded the older man. "Such a share that His Majesty made me captain over a company of his own Palace Guard. Did you argue against that, or are you regretting it now?"

That was pus.h.i.+ng a man of higher rank rather hard, but not harder than necessary, or so it seemed to Conan. If Decius was letting a boy's pa.s.sion for Raihna addle the man's and the captain's wits-

Decius shook his head. "I spoke for you then, and I will speak for you now whatever you say to me. Just think before you speak, if you have it in you to do so."

Conan gave Decius a tiger's grin. "Well enough, my lord. I think that His Majesty must have some friends in this realm. Otherwise, Syzambry would have plumped his a.r.s.e down on the throne years ago."

"Not unlikely."

"Cursed near certain, I'd say. Now, what will these friends say if they see us hiding in the palace like a mole in its burrow? I know the king's no coward. You know the king's no coward. What about our friends? Even if they think that the king's worth helping, what will they do if Syzambry's men are free to roam the land? If any of our friends so much as give the count a sour look, they'll be dead, or running for their lives. Running to us for help, when we've enough to do for ourselves."

Decius looked the Cimmerian over with great care, as if the younger man had just grown bright-blue scales or a long, spiked tail. Then he shook his head again.

"Conan," he said, "if you ever 'plump your a.r.s.e' down upon a throne, I would not like to be the man called on to move you from it."

Conan shrugged. "I've seen a few men win thrones or lose them. I'd be a fool not to learn from that. One thing I've learned is that a throne makes a man a big target, and a sitting one. The day my a.r.s.e and a throne do make friends, you can call me a fool!"

"Small chance that either of us will ever have the chance," Decius said. "But it is more than likely that Count Syzambry will be visiting us soon. Your company's work for now is to make sure that our hospitality is worthy of him. We will speak later of taking the field again."

"Later," it seemed, might be in the next age of the world for all Conan heard of the matter in the next few days. He had little time to concern himself with it, however, for the work given to the Second Company kept captain and men alike as busy as galley slaves.

Oyzhik's traps were many, but for the most part they were poorly made, and too often poorly concealed. Conan wondered if Oyzhik had planned this to be sure that his master's men would not spring the traps even if he could not wreck them on the night of the attack.

Be that as it may, one cunning and well-concealed trap was worth a dozen that any child could avoid. Conan made sure that no child would find any of the ones he set. Some were Oyzhik's deadfalls-pits, hidden crossbows and the like-done over with greater skill and b.l.o.o.d.y intent.

Others were altogether new. Conan had to be cautious there. The palace was vast, built in days when the Border Kingdom bore another name and its main defense lay with armies that marched where other realms now held sway. It was also ancient, and it had been several generations since the Border kings had had the gold to pay masons to repair sagging arches and cracking walls.

There were parts of the palace unvisited by any living man. Conan judged that the count would seek entry by these long-unused paths, and he gave most of his attention to them. Care was needed to avoid leaving suspicious traces. Still more care was needed to avoid bringing entire corridors or chambers down on the heads of the workers instead of on the count's men.

Raihna visited Conan one day during the noon meal. She found him stripped to a loinguard, sword, and a liberal coating of dust and plaster, sitting with a company of Guards similarly clad. The fruits of their morning's labor yawned before her, a pit with a spiked log in the bottom.

"When we've closed the pit, we'll lay on another surprise," Conan said, pointing toward a side hall. "An old catapult cord with a trip release and a barrel of tar. We'll have a lighted candle in a clay pot set into the barrel. When the barrel breaks and spills the tar, the candle falls into the tar and the whole chamber's ankle-deep in flames."

Several of the Guards cheered at the picture. Others called greetings to Raihna, inviting her to join them at their work-

"-'specially if you get into our workin' garb," one added.

Raihna clapped her hand to her sword hilt and stepped back, nostrils flaring in mock fury. She set a boot heel into a pile of rubble, and dust flew up like smoke from a fire. She took in a good breathful, coughed, then began sneezing.

Near the ceiling, a crack appeared in the wall to the left. It ran as swiftly as a hare fleeing a fox, down the wall to the floor. Then a slab of wall gave a mighty groan and topped outward, crumbling as it fell. Part of the ceiling followed, but only after Conan and Raihna and the workers were safely clear of the fall.

As the dust settled, Conan looked at the pile of rubble, then spat to clear his throat. "Well, men," he said, "I've been warning you that a sneeze could bring this ruin down on our heads. Now you see that I was speaking the G.o.ds' own truth."

Some of the men still made gestures of aversion, but most of them laughed. Since none of them were under the rubble, they could turn it to a joke.

The men salvaged such of their food as wasn't buried or too dusty to eat and resumed their meal. Conan led Raihna aside into an empty chamber with a stone bench built into one crumbling wall. The bench creaked as they sat down on it but did not tumble them to the floor.

"I'd best see Decius about going on with this work," the Cimmerian said. "We've already laid traps in every part of the palace that's not this ruined or worse. If we go on into the old warrens, we'll have the place down on our heads before Syzambry comes to take them!"

"Let me speak to Decius first and see how the land lies," Raihna said.

"He has heard enough about your notions of going into the field against our enemies. He will not be gracious if he thinks you are putting the matter forward again."

Conan cursed-softly, out of fear of provoking another collapse. When he spoke, it was also softly, but more out of fear of listening ears.

"Mitra bury Decius in mule dung!" he said. "There's as much sense in striking first as ever there was. And as little sense in waiting like rats in burrows for the ferrets to come down and s.n.a.t.c.h us!"

Raihna put a hand on Conan's arm. "I think you do him an injustice, Conan."

The Cimmerian shot Raihna a sharp look but said nothing. With another woman, he would have reasoned that Decius had begun to turn her head.

With Raihna, he knew that he would hear what she believed to be sense, even if he did not agree with it.

"How?"

"The Palace Guards are not fit for the field. He would be taking his own men and them only on any such raid. That would make the Guards stronger."

Conan nodded slowly. He had seen enough intrigues in Turan to know that Decius was not starting at his own shadow. But-

"Does he fear the captains, me among them, or the men, or what?"

"The men Oyzhik may have left behind and whom you might not discover in time. He trusts your sword and your honor, Conan, but he also knows that you are a stranger here."

"Yes, and men who might have been loyal before they saw a stranger made captain can turn to treason overnight." Conan wished greatly for some wine to wash both dust and the taste of plots from his mouth. He had to content himself with spitting again.

Then he rose. "Perhaps Decius has the right of it. But I still won't put my company at hazard from this tumbledown palace. Loyal men or not, they don't deserve to be squashed like grapes in a winepress!"

Raihna squeezed his hand. "I'll say as much, and you'll lose nothing with Decius by his hearing it. That I can swear."

She strode off, as graceful as ever, leaving Conan to ponder briefly how she could be so sure of Decius's goodwill. Of course, women had their ways-

And if he gave way to jealousy over that, he'd deserve to have the next piece of ceiling drop on his head, for all the use he was making of it!

Raihna would go where she pleased, and he could no more chain her than he could command the mysterious thunder that had now begun to roll through the hills at least once a night.

That thunder was worth a thought or two, for it reeked of sorcery. What Raihna might do to soothe Decius had naught to do with such matters.

Conan walked back to his men. They were already at work again, although slowly and casting doubtful looks at the walls and ceiling.