Conan the Relentless Part 36

It was Raihna, all but screaming in his ear. Conan flung her up onto the path, then leaped himself. The solid rock of the cliff was now shaking under his feet, and he nearly fell as he landed.

He did not fall, however, and both he and Raihna overtook the others in moments. None of them paused until they were halfway up the path. Then they stopped to look back.

No one would be pursuing them across the top of the dam any too easily, even should the beast die in the next moment. A gap wider than a royal road lay open in the top of the dam, and water was foaming through it.

Mist seemed to rise even from the foam, and the lake itself was all but invisible.

The fires beneath the water tinted the mist in rainbow hues. Conan thought the beast seemed less fierce now, but certainly the ghostly shapes of monstrous tentacles still danced through the mist at intervals.

Conan turned to speak to Marr. He did not expect an answer, or even wish the man to cease whatever magic he was working against the beast.

He did want to a.s.sure himself that the piper still heard human voice, thought. Conan opened his mouth, but before words reached his tongue, the piper staggered as if struck on the head. Then he toppled sideways.

Only Conan's hand gripping his tunic kept him from falling, and had he fallen, he would have rolled off the path and down the cliff toward the lake.

Screams told Conan that others had not been so fortunate. He clutched Wylla's ankle as she sprawled face down, then held on until she dug in fingers and toes so as to keep her place.

Raihna needed no help, and Aybas had fallen sitting. He was cursing and rubbing his rump, but no man cursing so loudly could be hurt.

Oyzhik was doomed. Barely aware of the world around him, sensible only through the piper's magic, he had no hope when that magic ceased. Conan saw the traitorous captain roll down the hill toward a vertical drop, arms and legs outflung like those of a child's doll.

The captain never took the final plunge. A tentacle lunged out of the mist. Even its tip was enough to wind around Oyzhik three times. Conan saw blood spurt as the appendage crushed his chest and belly. Mouths opened in the tentacle to suck in the blood. Then tentacle and prey vanished into the mist.

As Oyzhik vanished, Conan realized that he had not seen the princess or her babe. He braced himself against a stunted tree and examined the slope. At least there was no place where falling rocks could have crushed them. The Cimmerian also saw no place where they could have fetched up safe once they began rolling-

A dark-haired head seemed to rise from the ground, and a long, shapely arm waved frantically. Conan thanked the G.o.ds that his eyes had deceived him, and he plunged down the slope.

He reached the princess only a few paces ahead of Raihna. They were both ready, swords drawn, when another tentacle took shape out of the mist. The beast roared almost as loudly as before, sensing prey. Then it roared louder as both Conan and Raihna slashed at the tentacle. The beast was flesh and blood. It could feel pain and cry out.

Conan and Raihna gave the creature a good deal of pain in the next few moments. Conan had never swung a blade so fast or so hard in his life, for all that each blow jarred his arm from wrist to shoulder.

The tentacle was writhing now, in rhythm with the roars of the beast.

Greenish ichor spurted from the wounds, and yellow foam drooled from the mouths, inundating the Cimmerian's arm, making his grip on the sharkskin hilt of his sword uncertain. The stench made the pigsty seem like a lady's perfumed dressing chamber.

Then the last rag of flesh that held the end of the tentacle to the main body gave way under a furious stroke from Raihna. The main body of the tentacle drew back, and not only mist but foam spewed up from the lake as the beast roared.

The princess was handing something up over the edge of the drop, a fleece-wrapped bundle that Conan realized carried Prince Urras, awake now that Marr's spells no longer held him asleep.

"Hold on to him and I'll pull you both up!" Conan shouted.

"Mistress Raihna! Take the babe!" The princess was adamant, and Raihna responded to her appeal. Before Conan could reach for Chienna's hands, Raihna knelt, picked up the babe, and darted up the slope.

Conan knelt in turn, gripped long-fingered hands, and heaved. The princess was no dainty court lady, and it burdened even the Cimmerian's muscles to haul her bodily onto more level ground.

It also did Chienna's attire no good. Conan had seen tavern dancers at the end of their dance wearing less than she wore now. He had also seen tavern dancers less worthy of being so clad. With the greater part of her clothes in rags, she no longer appeared so thin-flanked.

The princess seemed to want to throw herself into the Cimmerian's arms, but she only gripped his shoulders with both hands and laid her head on his chest. They were standing thus when Raihna's voice shrilled from above.

"It's coming again!"

Conan contemplated the tentacle reaching for them. He contemplated the battered sword in his hand. He contemplated the princess and gave her a firm shove on the rump with his free hand. She scrambled up the slope toward where Wylla held her babe as Raihna leaped down for a last stand beside Conan.

Then the ground upended both Conan and Raihna as if they were children tossed in a blanket. They fell and landed sprawling, but not rolling.

The tentacle waved in the mist, groping, then stretched out its tip toward them. Conan lurched to his feet, shouting curses and calling on every G.o.d he thought might let him die like a warrior.

The rainbow colors in the mist and the fire in the lake died. A vast roar that made the beast's cry seem a pitiful mewling filled the night.

The mist rose higher yet, but not as thickly as before. Through the base of the cloud of mist, Conan saw the dam crumble.

The water of the lake thundered into the valley in a solid white wall.

It moved faster than a galloping horse, as fast as a flying hawk. Conan knew trial fie was seeing the death of the Pougoi.

He also saw the beast, although dimly because of the mist. A vast, carapaced shape festooned with tentacles swept into view, then washed through the remains of the dam and down into the valley.

Conan did not see the beast after that, although he knew the moment of its death... knew it because the ground shuddered again, and a roar that was almost a scream tore at his ears and a stench like all the graves of the world opened at once filled the night.

How long the Cimmerian gazed into the mist that shrouded the dying valley, he did not know. He was recalled to knowledge of the world and work to be done by Raihna's hand on his arm.

"Conan. The rock has crumbled to within an arm's length of your feet.

If any more falls, you may well fall with it."

Conan looked down and saw that Raihna was right. He shook off both her arm and his bemus.e.m.e.nt and began to climb.

"That settles the matter of pursuit, to be sure," he said when halfway up the cliff. "I only wish I knew if the Star Brothers drowned along with their tribesmen."

"Pray that they did," Raihna said. "I doubt if Marr could spellbind a stray puppy, and we've not heard the last of Syzambry's men."

The piper was at least in his right senses and sitting up when Conan and Raihna rejoined their comrades. He held Wylla close to his chest while she alternately wept and keened for the dead.

Aybas was wrapping his cloak about the princess. Above the waist, she was still more unclad than not, but below the waist, she had made herself seemly, if not regal. She was letting the babe suck on one or her fingers, and that seemed to have soothed his cries.

"Best we find a milch goat or a ewe and soak a rag in the milk," the princess said. "Urras has thrived on becoming a nurse-brother to the Pougoi. He may not do so well on the road home."

"Milch goat?!' Conan echoed. He realized that he was still a trifle bemused. He hoped that it was only from being too close to such a mighty duel of magic.

"Conan," the princess said, "I could hardly ask you to carry off a wet-nurse. But every patch of hillside about here has its goats. Any who are not good for my babe's milk will surely be good for our rations, will they not?"

"Certainly, my lady-I beg your pardon, Your Highness."

"No pardon needed, Conan. You and your comrades-I would not have asked of anyone sworn to me what you have done of your own will." She looked up at the sky, where stars now shone dimly as a rising wind blew away clouds and mist alike.

"The night is half gone, I fear," she added. "Best we use what is left of it to put some distance between ourselves and any of the Pougoi who may yet live."

Conan hoped that the princess would leave the swordplay to those better fitted for it. Otherwise, he would not quarrel with her apparent wish to command on the march homeward!

He looked down into the valley. Mist still rose in random wisps, but a great sheet of water gleamed beneath it. Here and there, huts and high ground jutted above the flood, and on one patch of high ground, Conan saw tiny figures moving.

Of the beast, the Star Brothers, or Thyrin, there was no sign.

Conan rose, stretched to ease cramped muscles, then turned to Raihna.

"Raihna, which of us is the better goatherd, do you think?"