Conan the Rebel (12 page)

Nehekba nodded. Light rippled along her hair. 'Ah, yes, Senufer. She is a noblewoman serving the same cause I do, the cause of peace.'

'And pleasure, I hear,' Conan said bluntly.

Full lips curved again upward. 'Why not? What harm? She is a wealthy widow, thus free to indulge herself if she stays reasonably discreet. Besides, we do wish to maintain contact with Falco. The time may come when his connections in Ophir prove invaluable to us. A man who visited him regularly might fall under suspicion of conspiracy, but a woman obviously having an affair need fear nothing except that a new guardsman may require a fresh bribe.'

'What about Heterka?' Conan snapped.

Nehekba raised her brows. 'Who?'

The wine glass shook a little in Conan's fingers. 'It is a horrible story.'

'I know nothing of it – well, I do know another noblewoman of that name, who dabbles in leech-craft but is said to have certain nasty inclinations. We Stygians are human, dear. Therefore we number among us the good, the bad, and the indifferent, and our

affairs are as tangled as any elsewhere in the world.'

Conan decided not to pursue the matter. Instead, he cried low, 'Enough! I pray you, tell me how I come to be here, and what you mean to do.'

'You must understand, I am no confidante of Tothapis,' she said in a tone of sympathy. 'He is a mighty wizard as well as a priest, the present head of that society of sorcerers called the Black Ring. Hence I likewise remain in the dark about much of what happened, though I cherish hopes of finding it out. Meanwhile, let me tell you what I can.

'Tales have been reaching Stygia of a rover from the far North, a peerless warrior, at large in these south-lands. Turned pirate, you could become a significant danger to us in a wartime that seems all too likely. Tothapis may well have used his arts to trap you for no other reason than that, though perhaps his plans go deeper. I must agree it would be wrong to let you harry my people. I am not angry at you; piracy is reckoned an honourable trade among you barbarians, no? But I do aim to teach you better, and bring forth a chivalry I am certain is innate in you.

'The factions favouring peace and war are not at sword's point. It is a matter of disputation and politicking, which does not prevent persons of opposed views on that issue from cooperating otherwise. As a member of the hierarchy, I heard about you, and persuaded Tothapis to order you detained here. He himself supports the expansion of Imperial Stygia, but he is not bloodthirsty and it suffices him to have rendered you harmless. In due course, after getting to know you well, Conan, I believe I can convince him that you will honour a parole to wreak no further harm on Stygians. Then he can let you go free.'

'How long might this take?' the Cimmerian asked.

'A year or two, perhaps.' Nehekba gave him a lingering look. 'It depends on how quickly and closely acquainted we become, you and I,' she purred.

He clenched a fist. 'What do you want of me?'

'It may be that you can vitally serve the cause of peace,' she said. 'Quite possibly a magical intimation of this was what made Tothapis alarmed enough to act against you. If that is so, then I

think I can gradually lull his fears. Not that I would ever employ you or anyone in treason. It is only that I sincerely believe the good of Stygia, too, lies in peace. What might you be willing to do in aid -for generous pay, of course? Well, that remains to be seen; but I can imagine you, for instance, as a swift courier whom no bandit or secret agent can stop. Messages to the governments of such countries as Ophir, Argos, Nemedia, Koth, Corinthia, even bedevilled Aquilonia, may encourage them to unite in exerting diplomatic and trade pressure on King Mentuphera. to alter his plans. It helps that his heir, Crown Prince Ctesphon, does not share his ambitions.'

Conan stroked his chin. 'Hmm, these matters get too entwined for my stiff brain to follow,' he said. 'Nevertheless – Wait. To judge from what Falco told me, war against Ophir will begin soon, well before you could talk me out of my cage.'

Nehekba shook her diademed head. 'No, nothing can be done while Taia is in rebellion,' she reminded him. 'I was instrumental in having the chiefs daughter brought here. Perhaps, after she and I have talked, she will agree to serve as a go-between, negotiating an end to both revolt and injustice. An accomplishment like that would vastly strengthen the hand of the peace party.' 'You leave Jehanan's presence unexplained,' he snapped. 'Jehanan?' she responded innocently. 'Who is that?' Before he could speak, she set down her goblet and leaned close to him. 'We will get chances aplenty to discuss politics,' she breathed. 'Need we carry it on this evening?' 'What do you mean?' he asked hoarsely. Her lashes fluttered. 'Best I use the same excuse as Senufer to keep seeing you. It will be no play-acting, either. By the gods, Conan, but you are a man!'

Desire blazed high in him, unmistakable to her knowing eyes, She half-closed them, half-parted her lips and swayed toward his opened arms. Their mouths came together. Bêlit herself had never given him a more passionate kiss. Their hands roved.

Conan's reached her neck. Muscles surged as he took hold of the chain that held the mirror and snapped its silver links. He threw

he amulet to the far end of the room.

Nehekba screamed. He clapped a palm over her face. She raked nails along his cheek. His left hand caught that wrist. Holding fast, lie moved to grab the other arm as well. A shin of his, laid across her thighs, pinned her to the couch. Though she writhed and panted, she was helpless against his bearlike strength.

'Slack off,' he told her. 'Else I'll choke you unconscious. I can do that without any real damage, but would rather not.'

The glorious eyes scorched hatred at him. Perforce, she obeyed. Conan nodded grimly. With the trap in the door closed, her yell had not been heard by the guard. The risk he had taken was that some kind of watch was being kept on him, as he suspected had been the case earlier this day. But he had guessed that she would not want her amours observed, and would have supposed her talisman was ample protection if her wiles failed.

Besides, she would scarcely have expected any such ignominy.

Conan maintained a grip on her wrists while, with his free hand, he ripped the gown from her. 'Have no fears,' he said. 'I have never taken a woman against her will. Anyway, that would hardly have been needful, would it? I just mean to secure you.'

'Are you mad?' she moaned.

He shook his black-mane head. 'No, nor as stupid as you took for given. You civilized people think that because we barbarians have no cities or books we must be a lot of dumb animals. Hell, we need our wits more than you do!'

'But – but I am your friend, Conan,' she pleaded, 'I would be your lover if you let me, yes, even now.'

He stood, made her rise, and forced her to face away from him. Using the torn silks, he tied her arms behind her. 'No, my guess is that you are friend to that Tothapis fellow,' he said. 'I also believe you are sweet Senufer and vile Heterka. It doesn't make sense that this gaol should simply happen to be crawling with lust-crazed brunettes, or that the lord of the Black Ring would not know you were plotting against him and take measures. In any case, I trust no witch.'

'You are wrong – you are wrong.' She wept.

'Crocodile tears, are they called?' he retorted, unmoved. 'Well,

supposing you are innocent, which I cannot do for half a heartbeat you did admit I would be here for a matter of years before I might maybe go free. Never! I am bound back to my own woman, tonight, or else I shall die along the way.' He laid her down on the floor and kept a knee on her thighs, while he fastened her ankles. 'Furthermore,' he added, 'you slipped me fine words about peace, but Bêlit and her brother still have revenge to take on Stygia, Therefore I do myself.'

Having rendered her immobile, he rose, and for a moment regarded her nearly nude body. A sigh gusted from him. 'What a waste,' he said. 'How tempted I was to have my sport with you first. But you are a witch. I dared not risk you somehow binding my spirit here, away from Bêlit.'

He stooped and effortlessly picked her up. 'Call the watchman to let you out,' he instructed. 'After I am done with him, I will leave you here. The change of guard will find you in the morning.'

'No, you blind beast!' she flared.

Conan gave her a terrible stare. 'If you do not obey,' he said, 'I will break you in twain, for what you did to Jehanan.'

She cowered in his arms. 'I will – I will.'

He nodded and stalked to the door. Actually, he had lied, or so he thought. He doubted he could bring himself to such a deed against a woman, no matter how evil she might be; and he lacked absolute proof of Nehekba's iniquity. However, the rage that had not left him gave the threat convincing force.

At the door, he elbowed the panel open and brought Nehekba's head close to it. 'Sound calm,' he whispered in her ear.

She gave a convulsive nod, and cried with a coolness which bespoke her powers of deceit: 'O soldier my business is done. Come unlock, that I may go home.'

Immediately Conan laid her down and used two remaining scraps of cloth to gag her. She found time to hiss vindictively, 'You have made your death certain, barbarian. If you are lucky, it will be swift. If I am lucky, it will take many days.'

He disregarded her, except for the reflection that in her fury she had revealed her true colours. Rising, he snatched from a shelf a brass candlestick in the form of three serpents. Bolt slid outward, the door swung wide, the turnkey stepped back, bringing his crossbow to shoulder.

He was, though, less wary than erstwhile, thanks to Nehekba. Conan sprang from behind the jamb and hurled his metal. It smote before the bow could twang. The shaft skittered harmlessly town the hall. Conan was already upon the Stygian. His hands flew the man's throat, took hold, contracted. He felt the larynx snap between his fingers. Blood gushed from the soldier's mouth. He loll and flopped. Conan drew his sword and ended his pain.

Ferally quick, the Cimmerian returned to his chambers. A tunic would be less conspicuous than a loincloth if he got as far as the street. He donned the one he had dropped and added a cowled mantle. Having strapped on sandals as well, he went back out. Nehekba gave him so poisonous a glare that he wondered if he should kill her. But no, he could not bring himself to that, nor did lie want any part of the talisman he had torn from her. Best would be if he could get rid of the thing, but he was unsure how and dared not experiment.

He took the Stygian's sword belt and put it on. A key was still in the door, attached to a ring from which several more hung. Conan plucked them free and started down the corridor. He would not leave behind him the friends he had made this day.

X

A Night in Khemi

Falco sat up in bed with a start. The big man who had shaken his shoulder let go and loomed over him. Light from candles sconced in the hall came dimly through open doors; Conan's eyes, catching it, burned like blue torches. 'On your feet, lad,' the Cimmerian said. 'We're bound out of here.'

'But – but – what -' Falco stuttered.

'I'll tell you later, if we outlive the next few hours. We've got a dead guard on this floor, but we'll need to make more as we go along.'

Falco hunched away. 'No,' he protested. 'This is lunacy. Have you forgotten what the lady Senufer promised?'

Conan spat. 'I will explain what her promises are worth, when I get the chance. Now come, for Crom's uncaring sake! We don't have time to jabber.'

Resolution congealed in the Ophirite. He sat straight amidst the sheets and said, 'No. Do what you like, and I will wish you well though I doubt if anything can save you. But I am not leaving Senufer whom I love and trust.'

Conan glowered. 'Why, you white-livered pup! What is your I oath worth, that you gave to your king? You are the one who can t bring him warning of what Mentuphera. plots against him. The rest of us would scarcely be let into his court, let alone believed. Stay, then, and be a lapdog.'

Falco doubled his fists and bit his lip till blood ran. In a I convulsive motion, he swung feet to floor and rose. 'I am sorry,' he said in a voice that wavered. 'You are right about my duty to – to try.'

'Much better. Get dressed. Quickly!'

Falco drew on tunic and foot gear. 'Do you actually imagine we I can break free? How in the world?'

'By what I have used thus far, surprise and speed. I paid attention while they brought me here. Did you not?'

Falco made no answer. Staring beyond his companion, he whispered, 'I will return to you, Senufer, if I live – return to you bringing peace between our nations, O my darling.'

Conan snorted and led the way forth, to unlock Jehanan's door. The Shemite slept restlessly, tossing and muttering in nightmare. When Conan shook him awake, he gasped and flailed about.

'Easy, fellow,' the Cimmerian said. 'Save that for the Stygians.'

Jehanan sat up. 'You are loose, you two?' he marvelled without gladness. 'What will you do?'

'Get you and me back to Bêlit, for a start. I told you earlier I have a boat tucked away, and the traitor who knew where she lies is dog meat. We shall have to fight clear of this kennel first, but -'

Jehanan slumped. He shook his head. 'What is the use?' he mumbled.

'Name of Ymir!' Conan exploded. 'What gutless wonders I am among, that I must talk them into seizing their freedom? If nothing else, man, don't you want to kill Stygians?'

Jehanan's back stiffened. 'There is that left in life,' he said slowly. 'Very well.'

'Dress, then.' It wrung Conan's heart to see how the other must fight agony with every movement as he got out of bed. 'Come over here, Falco,' the barbarian directed, turning his back and taking the youth's elbow. 'We should decide what equipment we can improvise.'

Remembering Bêlit, he took a glass decanter, smashed the bottom against a table, and gave the Ophirite the jagged remnant to hold by the neck. Muscles stood forth in his limbs, cable-thick, when he wrenched a leg from the same heavy piece of furniture. He tucked that club under an arm, loosened his sword belt, and handed the metal weapon to a now-clad Jehanan. 'You Shemites favour sword blades,' he remarked. 'You ought to do right well.'