Conan the Relentless Part 32

"I expect no less."

The rescuers certainly had not expected the oath that Aybas swore. He swore at length and by many G.o.ds, partly to ease their minds, but more to ease his own. This was the first time he had used some of the sacred names since he was a child, and why not? This was likely enough the last oath he would swear as a living man, and the first in twenty years that he had no intention of breaking.

Of course, if the tales of Syzambry's being dead, or at least crippled, were false, this change of allegiance held peril. A fleet pair of heels could still take him to safety, however. The count would have ample occupation while dealing with enemies closer at hand even if he did gain the throne.

Much to Conan's disgust, Oyzhik and the princess were held as far apart as the valley allowed. The rescuers would have to divide their forces and meet at the foot of the cliff for the final scramble to safety.

Aybas and Marr had to go for Chienna. Without Aybas, she might need calming by the piper's music, as her babe surely would. Without the piper, there would be no calming either of them.

Oyzhik, however, was held so closely that a single man-even Conan-could fail. Wylla swore to find her father and bring him to the wizards'

prison instead of to the princess's hut.

Conan would have cursed Aybas, Oyzhik and the Star Brothers alike had he not feared delay or noise. It might have been simpler to refuse Aybas's oath and to silence him. But they had chosen to take that oath, and now, to Conan's mind, they were bound as closely as their new friend. A world where oaths could be cast out with the chamberpots onto the middens was a world doomed to the rule of the likes of Count Syzambry and the Star Brothers.

As silent as a falling rose petal, at one with the shadows, the Cimmerian made his way down across the valley toward the Star Brother's lodge. Mist curled over the edge of the dam, and a faint breeze brought the reek of the beast to Conan. His face twisted at the foulness, and he would have known then, had he not been told before, that the creature was not of the world of men.

"Hssst!"

"Five?" Conan asked. If the reply made ten, he had met Wylla's father.

"Five," came a gruff voice. Then a shadow that Conan had taken for a bush began to move toward him. At length it turned into a man nearly as large as the Cimmerian himself. Grizzled hair and a short beard made him resemble a patriarch, but the Cimmerian's eye made out a warrior's muscles and sinews under the man's scarred skin.

"Well met, Conan of Cimmeria," the man said. "I am Thyrin, father to Wylla."

"I am Captain Conan of the Second Guards, father to none that I know of," the Cimmerian replied. "Is your daughter with you?"

"She wished to join us, but I bid her join the others. She can tend the babe if no more, and with them, she will be closer to safety.

"I like not this care for Captain Oyzhik, Cimmerian. Did my daughter not say that he will do our enemies more harm alive than dead, I would spear him in a moment. It will be a chancy affair, making our way to safety with a man such as Oyzhik."

"I am of your mind. At least Marr will try to keep the alarm from being raised. Lead on, Thyrin."

Aybas was prepared to march straight up to the princess's lodgings, trusting to his standing with the guards. Raihna counseled greater caution.

"If I were the Star Brothers-"

"You could never render yourself so ugly of either body or spirit,"

Aybas said.

Raihna seemed to be glaring and smiling at the same time. "There is a place for the gallantries of the Aquilonian court, and this is not it.

If I were the Star Brothers, I would have my most trusted men about the princess now, especially with the tales being rumored of Syzambry's troubles."

"It is the habit of the Star Brothers to have their most trusted men guarding the sacrifices," Aybas said. "Conan and Thyrin are the ones most in need of caution."

"You did not tell us that!" Raihna exclaimed.

"You did not ask it of me," Aybas replied blandly.

"If you have the wits of a louse, you should know what to tell us without being asked!" Raihna said.

"Here, now, Mistress-" Aybas began, swallowing indignation as he saw Raihna reaching for her sword.

"Peace," Marr said. "I can work against the wits of any or all of the guards as needs be. Also, no doubt the Star Brothers think that the princess needs less guarding, being a mere woman."

Raihna mimed running the piper through, and Wylla, recently rejoined with the other three, pulled a long face. Then she stuck out her tongue at both men. The unease dissolved in soft laughter.

It was good tidings that Oyzhik was lodged in a hut apart from the common lodgings for the sacrifices. No doubt the Star Brothers did not wish anyone to bear reports of his being ill-treated to Count Syzambry or the captain's friends.

No doubt, too, that the Star Brothers intended to keep Oyzhik captive until his fate was decided. His hut was backed against the cliff, and four guards stood before it. Two had bows, two had spears, all bore swords-uncommonly complete arming for the Pougoi, even among the Star Brothers' chosen warriors.

It did not help matters, either, that the hut was less than a hundred paces from the princ.i.p.al long-house of the Star Brothers' guards. If the four on duty did not die silently and swiftly, they would have help from a score of their comrades before Conan and Thyrin could free Oyzhik.

"Are the sacrifices fettered?" Conan whispered.

Thyrin shook his head. "Only for punishment, and they would not dare punish Oyzhik in any way that left marks."

The underbrush and shadows could have hidden a score of men the size of Conan and Thyrin. Only guards making the rounds could have discovered them, and these guards stood before the door like temple images.

Conan's night sight, with a trifle of help from the moon, soon revealed a climbable path up the cliff. It did not offer a road out of the valley, not when they would have Oyzhik as a burden. It could take a good climber like the Cimmerian to the roof of the hut.

"I'll climb," Conan said. "When I'm nearing the hut, I'll wait for moonlight, then wave. You go forward and keep the guards busy while I reach the roof. Then you can hide so that the Star Brothers-"

Thyrin's glare would have shattered stone. "Doubt not that my honor equals yours, Cimmerian. If you must doubt my honor, at least do not doubt my wits. Wylla and I will face outlawry at best for this night's work, whether anyone sees us or not."

There seemed no more to be said, so Conan faded into the shadows until he reached the foot of the cliff, where he waited for the moonlight to give him a good view of his first few hand and footholds. Then he began to climb.

"What, ho, friends," Aybas said. "Is the princess within?"

The two spearmen at the door laughed coa.r.s.ely. "Where'd she go without pa.s.sing us? She knows what'd happen if she tried, too. Too fine-bred to have a taste for our kind, she is, like all the low-landers."

One of them caught sight of Raihna. "Or maybe there's some lowlanders as might fancy a hill man?"

Raihna's smile was feigned, but only her comrades knew it. "I am sent from the lowlands, indeed. I serve Count Syzambry, and I am come to examine the princess with a woman's knowledge of her fitness to bear his sons."

Aybas strangled laughter. Any woman less resembling a midwife than Raihna, he had yet to see. Before the guards could voice doubts, Raihna added, "I am also come to reward those who have served the count well."

The sway of her hips as she spoke would have made most tavern dancers jealous. The guards could not but see what reward she was promising, and Aybas doubted that they were eunuchs.

While the spearmen stared at Raihna, Aybas and Marr moved. Each stepped behind a guard, each drew a short club from his belt, and each struck their man a shrewd blow where the skull joins the neck. The guards dropped as if poleaxed.

"Lift them onto the bench here," Aybas ordered. "They often sit down while on duty. Wylla, you remain here as sentry. Make it seem that you and the guards are... ah, enjoying each other's company."

Wylla stuck out her tongue again, but she also drew off her tunic and pushed her trousers low on her hips. The splendid b.r.e.a.s.t.s and supple waist thus revealed made Aybas pray that Wylla at least would live through the night. She was not for him, that was certain, but still, she was too young to die for the folly of others.