Conan the Champion Part 13

203.though it is true that we built up fires so we could see to ply our weapons. What manner of men choose to fight at night, when one cannot tell friend from foe, and no one can witness the deeds of the valiant?"

"Picts," said Conan with a grim smile.

"Picts?" Leovigild said. "Who are they?"

"They are a folk who love to fight at all hours," said the Cimmerian. "And they have a rare skill at night-battle. There are others who are good in the dark-- Afghuiis, Himelian hillmen, the pygmies of southern Rush--but the Picts are the best. I have fought them and lived among them."

"It is no manner for men to fight," said Siggeir haughtily.

"Nonetheless," Alcuina said quietly, "someone must carry out this task, and it is Conan who has this skill. And if it is to be done, my champion is the one who de-serves that honor."

"I wish you well, Conan," Leovigild said. "If any can defeat lilma's familiars, it must be you."

The sliver of a crescent moon was rising over the hills to the east when Conan betook himself to the walk atop the palisade. The small band gathered atop the wall stared in wonder at the Cimmerian's bizarre ap-pearance. He was dressed all in black wolfskins, and he had blackened his face and arms with a mixture of wax and soot. The buckles and metal fittings on his swordbelt had been wrapped in dark cloth to hide them and to m.u.f.fle any sound they might make. A strip of leather about his brow held his shoulder-length hair in place.

"It is time," he said.

"Father Ymir watch over you," Rerin said.

Conan grinned without mirth. "Crom is my G.o.d. It is said that he and Ymir are not on the best of terms. When the fighting begins, I trust to my sword arm."

"The huntsmen say they are not far," said Alcuina, with her sure grasp of practicalities, "but moving slowly, as you predicted. Good fortune, Cimmerian, but use caution. This is but a sally to weaken lilma. The true battle is yet to come, and I shall have need of your services at that time."

"Fear not, Alcuina," said Conan, "I'll not deprive you of my services untimely." He sprang to the top of the palisade, hesitated for a moment, then leaped out-ward, ignoring the rope that had been hung from a post. There was always a possibility that Totila had sent a scout to watch the gate, so it had been decided that Conan should leave from the opposite wall.

He landed lightly, taking the shock on bent knees, with the a.s.surance of perfect balance. The faint moon-light transformed the snow-covered field into a mantle of cloth of silver. In the distance, he could barely discern the standing stones.

The huntsmen had said that Totila's force was com-ing through the eastern uplands. Conan set off in that direction, traveling at a mile-eating trot that he could maintain all night. Within minutes he was in the forest, and he moved amid the pines with as much a.s.surance as he had upon the plain, his eyes as keen as an owl's in the dimness.

At the end of four hours Conan was still not breath-ing heavily. He slowed, knowing that Totila's force could not be far. It was the smell of smoke on the still air that told him he was near his destination. The smell of smoke led him toward the glow of banked fires in the distance.

204.

205.A rough count of the fires gave him an estimate of the enemy's strength. The war-band was larger than he had antic.i.p.ated. Totila must be a man of force and ability to have mobilized so many men in the depths of winter.

Conan scouted the periphery of the camp, probing for weak points and the location of the leaders. As he had antic.i.p.ated, there were no sentries posted. A hardened robber-band such as Totila's would consider such pre-cautions to be weak and effeminate. After a full circuit, he had seen no tent or bower set up within the camp. Apparently Totila slept upon the ground, wrapped in his cloak the same as his warriors. He led by example. That was another thing to remember.

This night, though, Conan's quarry was not Totila. The wizard lilma would be somewhere close by, and Conan would wager that the wizard was not sleeping in his cloak like a common warrior. The air was nearly still, but there was the faintest of breezes apparent to the Cimmerian's sharp senses. He crept a short distance downwind and sat with his back to a tree, his eyes closed and, to any casual observer, asleep. He was not asleep. He was sorting through sense-impressions with the concentration and attention to detail of a Zamoran inquisitor.

There were few sounds to study, but the smell of smoke lay heavy in the air. Most came from the low-burning embers of the warriors' fires, and it had the sharp tang of common pine wood. Soon, though, he sorted another smell. It was smoke, but not that of pine alone. This smoke had other smells he did not recog-nize, possibly herbs and bark. It was for this that he had been searching.

Conan rose and began to follow the scent-trail. It led him upwind of the camp, into a small fold between two low hills. Now he could hear sounds as well, strange rattlings and croakings. He spied a large clump of brush on one slope and made his way toward it. Dropping to his belly, he crawled the rest of the way beneath the overhanging bushes. A few minutes of this slow prog-ress brought him to the source of the sounds and the strange smoke.

In the narrow fold between the hills was a tent of reindeer hides, and before it sat a man clad in identical skins, with the horns of that beast crowning his head-dress. He was chanting softly, shaking a rattle in odd patterns over a tiny fire, which b.u.med in a mult.i.tude of unnatural colors. Conan searched for the source of the clacking and croaking sounds and soon found it.

A few paces from the fire stood the magpies. In the past he had spied them flying high above Alcuina's garth. Then they had behaved like ordinary birds. Now their actions sent a chill of fascinated horror through the Cimmerian. They were croaking and making other, less nameable sounds in time with lilma's chant, and their heads bobbed rhythmically. Occasionally they stepped to right or left, as if in some primitive dance. Most uncannily they moved in perfect lockstep, as if both were controlled by a single will.

What h.e.l.lish wizard-craft was the Hyperborean brew-ing now? It would be some devilment to strengthen Totila's hand, or to undermine Alcuina's position. Per-haps even an attempt upon his own life. It was a temptation simply to dash into the clearing and cut the wizard down in midspell. Rerin had warned him against any such foolhardy act. lilma, he had said, was a 206.

cqnan the champion 207.sorcerer who dealt with dark forces and would as-suredly have provided elementary safeguards for his own security. A wizard had trouble enough protecting himself from the demons he manipulated without hav-ing to worry about mere mortal men striking them down. They were at their most vulnerable when in the midst of spell-casting, a task that demanded all their concentration. Like other men, they were vulnerable when asleep. Vulnerable did not mean defenseless. His speculations ceased as he saw a dim, insubstantial form appear above the fire. What might this be?

As lilma chanted and the birds croaked, the figure gained apparent solidity, although it remained suspended over the colored flames as if it had no weight. It had the appearance of a man. The face was indistinct, but it looked to be a young man, with long, yellow hair. It looked, Conan thought, almost like Leovigild. Was the wizard spying upon the youth? That could not be, for this phantom was unbandaged and was dressed in the type of clothes worn for hunting or fighting.

Abruptly lilma's chant broke off, and he waved his hands in a gesture of dismissal. The wraith faded out, and the fire ceased to burn in unnatural colors. As the flames reverted to normal hues, lilma said something to the birds. Conan did not recognize the language, but he heard the note of triumph in the words. Shrewdly, the Cimmerian guessed that the wizard was testing some spell mat he would use at a later time, and now he was confident of his mastery. The magpies bobbed their heads as if in agreement.

Conan's blood chilled as one of the birds turned, its eyes burning brighter than the embers of the fire. Its stare was directed straight toward him. In an instant both birds and the mage were glaring toward him, as if their eyes could penetrate the intervening brush and gloom.

"Who dares to spy upon my rites?" hissed out the wizard.

Without hesitation Conan sprang to his feet and strode into the clearing before the hut. His sword slid from its sheath in a blurring motion, and the sorcerer flinched back, his hands beginning an arcane gesture.

But Conan's blade was not aimed at the Hyperbo-rean. Instead it flashed in the firelight as a blur before striking one of the magpies. The Cimmerian had ex-pected the bird to turn instantly to a ma.s.s of blood and feathers, but he was shocked at the solid impact that shook his arm from palm to shoulder. It was as if he had squarely struck some far larger creature.

He wrenched the sword back and whirled a cut at the other bird, but the creature had darted back and was beginning to transform itself into something other than an earthly being. The Cimmerian watched in dread as lilma began a rapid chant and the feathered wings grew. Feathers became glittering scales as the wings grew leathery. The legs lengthened as well, becoming a per-version of human limbs but retaining birdlike feet with bronze talons tipping the hooked toes.

Conan knew that he was seeing the creature's true form now; a hideous combination of man, bird, and reptile, standing a head taller than himself, with a gaping, fanged beak from which a black, serpentlike tongue lolled and writhed and seemed to have a life of its own. Only the burning, hate-filled eyes were the same, freezing Conan with a basilisk stare as it reached for him with the claw-tipped upper joints of its wings.

208.

209.The action shook Conan from his brief paralysis, and he leaped to die attack. Darting between the outstretched claws, he hewed at the shoulder-joint of the left wing. Rerin had said that these creatures, if they were to live in the world of men, must obey certain basic laws of that world. This meant mat they could be injured and killed. The sword struck with a meaty crunch and foul-smelling fluid splattered Conan. He wrenched the blade free and struck like lightning at the opposite shoulder. Unexpectedly he was struck a vicious blow across the face just as his sword sliced into the unnaturally tough flesh. He staggered back, dazed and unaware from where the blow had come. Then he saw the thick tongue lashing back and forth, stained with his own blood.

The demon-bird wailed continuously in an ear-shredding shriek, its wings sagging on their injured shoulders while lilma kept up a demented chanting. Abruptly the creature sprang toward Conan, its taloned feet outstretched like those of a falcon stooping upon a victim. Conan thrust at the thing's belly and felt the blade sink in as claws struck his chest and bore him, backward to the ground. The wide-spread toes tight-ened, and he felt talons begin to sink into his shoulders and back as he pushed and twisted his sword, now buried deep in the beast's entrails.

The demon-bird leaned forward; its beak gaped wide as the snake-tongue lashed forth. A numbing impact struck Oman's shoulder, and there was a sizzling sound accompanied by a sickening stench of burning hair. The tongue drew back and poised over Conan's face. It was tipped with a circular mouth, rimmed with tiny, jagged teeth, and oozing a foul fluid. He knew that only his heavy furs had saved him. For that mouth to touch his flesh would be death.

Desperately Conan wrenched his sword from the thing's belly. His shoulders Were too constricted to swing the weapon effectively. As the gaping beak came forward, he jammed the blade between those jaws, turned so that the double edges were against upper and lower beak. Instinctively the demon-bird bit down. The keen edge of the sword sheared through the deadly tongue and the obscene member fell away to writhe upon the ground.

The demon-bird's grip upon Conan loosened as it shrieked out its agony. The Cimmerian wrenched him-self free and scrambled away from the thing as it writhed on the ground, its "blood" pumping from its mouth. Gradually the thing began to lose its shape as its strength faded, melting into graying slime that liquified and was drunk by the earth.

Then Conan was struck a heavy blow from behind. Instead of sprawling, he rolled as he hit the ground, springing up to face the direction from which the blow had come, sword outstretched to meet the new danger.

The other demon-bird! In his desperate fight he had forgotten the other. It was severely injured, its transfor-mation incomplete. Its right side was cloven, and the dangling right wing still bore the glossy plumage of the earthly bird. It hissed and lurched to the attack.

Conan felt weakened from his ordeal and did not want to contest with the thing's powerful talons and deadly serpent-tongue. As he backed away he heard the continuing chant of the Hyperborean. Holding the crea-ture at a distance with the point of his sword, he risked a glance at the wizard, who stood a few paces behind 210.

211.him, his eyes shut in concentration as he wove his spell.

Conan continued to back away, his steps taking him toward lilma. When he judged his distance to be right, he whirled and struck out at the mage, continuing the movement into a full spin that ended with him facing the demon-bird again. The move was too swift for the thing to take advantage of his momentarily turned back.

The desperate blow had not severely injured the mage. The distance had been too great, so that only the tip of the blade gouged a superficial cut across the wizard's cheek. But his concentration was broken. The chant faltered as the wizard's eyes widened in amazement, and his hand went to his injured cheek.

As the chant slowed and stopped, the demon-bird sagged in weakness. This was all the advantage Conan needed. Instantly he dashed in, hacking at the thing with swift, powerful blows, which it was now too weak to avoid. He hewed at neck, shoulders, and legs as the beast squalled and began to collapse. As it fell forward he dived out of its way, and then he was on his feet again, slashing at its spine. He continued to rain blows upon the creature until it was a quivering ma.s.s of not-flesh that was beginning to change color.

Then he stepped back and looked for lilma. The Cimmerian's chest heaved like a bellows from the exer-tion of the ferocious battle. It would be good if he could finish things now by slaying the Hyperborean. Without the birds, the wizard had lost much of his bodily protec-tion. But lilma was nowhere to be seen. Conan searched the snow for fresh tracks, but he could discern none. Cursing, he cleaned his fouled blade and sheathed it.

Wishing to be away before the sun rose, .he set out for the garth. At least the wizard was greatly weakened now. He had lost his far-ranging eyes as well. Rerin said that lilma would have to journey to some accursed place and perform long rituals before he would be able to acquire new familiars. Best of all, he was now vulnerable to the swords and spears of other men.

213.

Fourteen.When Kings IReef Cotila stretched in his saddle and looked back at the long file of his warriors winding along the forest road. They were in good spirits, for the gadfly hors.e.m.e.n had not struck at them since the day before. He did not think that he would see them again until he reached Alcuina's garth. That had been a weakening tactic, and they had given it up as soon as the Tormanna had come up with a good defensive tactic. Where had the Cambres learned to fight in such a fashion? He suspected that Alcuina's new black-haired champion was behind it. The more Totila learned of the man, the more he longed to come to grips with him.

lilma rode up beside his king. "My birds tell me that the Cambres are huddled in Alcuina's garth like sheep in a pen."

Totila turned upon him with a look of little favor. "Your d.a.m.ned birds have been of little use so far."

lilma shrugged, hiding his feeling of inner doubt. "A fluke. Who would have expected a poor magician like 212.

Rerin to show such imagination? In any case, they have brought me further word, which you will find of great interest."

"Speak on," said Totila patiently.

"About a mile from here this road merges with another, which comes from the south. On that road are King Odoac and his Thungians. We shall reach the fork about the same time that they do."

Totila stroked his chin and smiled. "Odoac, eh? It is high time that I had words with that Thungian pig."

"At this point an alliance might be--"

"Stick to your wizardry," Totila broke in abruptly. "Leave statecraft to me." They rode on in silence.

As the sun rose higher the king of the Tormanna scanned the cloudless sky. "Where are your magpies, wizard? I've not seen them all this day."

"I have--sent them upon a mission, my lord. It is a matter of importance, concerning a stratagem that will be of great help to you in taking Alcuina's fortress." He dared not admit to his new weakness. It was imperative that the king think him as powerful as ever. He thanked his dark G.o.ds that he had made his preparations for the phantom-spell before he lost his familiars.

"Has it aught to do with the noises that came from your camp last night?" the king asked. "Men com-plained of it this morning. They said they were wakened by h.e.l.lish sounds, as if giant serpents and boars and eagles were battling."

"Your men," lilma said stiffly, "have no business concerning themselves with my arts, however clamor-ous they may be."

The Tormanna reached the fork in the road first, and Totila ordered the men off the road for a rest, caution-ing them that they were soon to receive visitors. Every 214.

215.man must keep his weapons handy. Before an hour had pa.s.sed, they saw the Thungians slogging up the south-ern road.

Odoac's heart jumped into his throat when he saw the army seated upon the ground before him. An ambush by the Cambres? But these men were making no effort to hide themselves. Then he saw the towering man who wore the cloak of many-colored hair and the eagle-crested helm, and he felt even more trepidation. He had hoped to find the leaderless Cambres easy meat. Totila and all his warriors primed for battle made a daunting prospect. There was nothing he could do except put the best face on it if his men were to follow him.

"It seems as if we are not the only ones minded to mount a winter hosting against the Cambres," Odoac said. He managed to get the words out steadily, al-though sweat came from beneath the rim of his helmet. His men's expressions grew grim, and their hands tight-ened on their weapons.

As the Thungians neared, Totila came forward. His men remained seated upon the ground. This rea.s.sured Odoac somewhat. But he was aware of every bit of his advancing age and flagging powers as the huge king of the Tormanna came to him and clasped his hand in a bone-crunching grip.

"Greeting, Odoac, my fellow king! It is too seldom that I see you!" He draped an arm around Odoac's shoulder and turned to wave and nod, giving both armies a good chance to judge how much taller, young-er, and finer he was than the Thungian king.

"I greet you, Totila," Odoac answered, carefully omitting the t.i.tle of king. "Am I right in believing that we are on a similar mission?"

"That is possible. Let us step aside and discuss these matters privily, as two kings should."

Odoac did not want to leave the protection of his housecarls, but he dared not show fear of Totila. "Rest you here, my men," he said, affecting unconcern. "This chieftain and I must take counsel upon weighty matters."

The two men walked a short distance away to a small hillock.

"My wizard tells me," began Totila, "that Alcuina is back after her mysterious disappearance."

"I rejoice to hear it," Odoac said, surprised. "Now I may ask her why she has been so tardy in answering my suit."

"I had similar questions in mind. Perhaps you also wished to discipline your wayward nephew?"

Odoac fumed but strove not to show it. This man had the advice of the cursed lilma to make up for his lack of royal blood. Why had the Hyperborean not come to a true king like Odoac?

"In truth, the boy has been a trial to me. I brought him up as if he were my own son, for the sake of my dear brother. The wretch had the temerity to plot after my throne." He managed to smile at Totila. "Be glad that you never married, and have no heir."

"That is a situation I intend to rectify soon. After all, it were a shame to leave a royal lady like Alcuina imbedded when all three of our kingdoms are currently without heirs. Now, if you and I were to fall out here upon the road and come to swordstrokes, who would profit? Only the Cambres, for whichever of us prevailed would yet be too weakened to take the field against the Cambres this year."

"An alliance against the Cambres makes sense,"

216.

217.Odoac said, nodding as if he had not been hoping that this was what Totila would suggest. "There remains the question of our similar aims. This alliance will do us no good if we should fall out over possession of Alcuina and her lands and people."

"These things can be worked out," said Totila per-suasively. "And they should be before we proceed further. The lands and people are easy to settle. We simply divide them in twain, north and south, along the Gernach River, which runs nearly through the center of the kingdom. North to me, south to you."

Odoac thought for a moment. "That is agreeable to me. Now, what about Alcuina herself? Each of us is in need of a wife, and I see no way to divide her as we have already divided her land."

"As I see it," said Totila craftily, "you have two goals here: You want Alcuina, but you also want to rid yourself of Leovigild. It would not look good to your men if you were to slay him with your own hand, which you could easily do, I am sure."

"Of course I could slay that puppy," Odoac grum-bled. "But you are right, it would be impolitic for me to do so. There would be those who would name me kinslayer even though I but defended myself."

"I, on the other hand, could slay him with impu-nity." Totila did not mention that he was fairly certain that he had already slain that young man. "Leovigild's life for Alcuina. Do you not think that is a fair trade, since I will after all be getting her with only half her dowry?"

Odoac stroked his beard, pretending to be deep in thought. "I still need an heir, you know."

Abruptly, Totila lost patience. "Use your head, man!

There are plenty of n.o.ble ladies with marriageable daughr ters who would be happy to have a king for son-in-law. Or find some peasant brat and p.r.o.nounce him the long-lost son of your brother. It is not as if you intended to let him grow to manhood. You could buy fifteen more soft years on the throne with such a move."

"You speak wisely, my friend," said Odoac, deeply cowed. "Let us agree on this: We shall unite forces against the Cambres. When the fighting is over, if you have slain Leovigild, you shall have Alcuina and the northern half of her kingdom. I shall have the southern half. We shall part friends and march our men home."

Totila thrust forth a hand, and Odoac took it. Neither had the slightest intention of honoring the agreement except at his own convenience. Arms about one anoth-er's shoulders, they walked back to their men, smiling.

"Is Odoac such a fool?" said lilma, incredulous.

King and wizard sat in a small tent of oiled hides half a day's march from Alcuina's garth. Night had fallen, and the men rested against the exertions of the morrow, lilma had kindled a small, smokeless fire between them, and it cast sinister shadows upon their faces as they conferred.

"Aye, he is a fool, but not so great a fool as that. He is merely a frightened old man with his best days behind him. He wants to hold on to his kingship for his few remaining years, and he knows not who to fear more--Leovigild or me. He does not like this alliance I have forced upon him, but he has no other choice."

"Will you let him march home peacefully after the battle is done?" lilma asked.

"That depends upon how things look at the time. If 218.

219.his men have taken many losses and we have taken few, I might well settle with him at that time. If we are seriously weakened, perhaps we must wait another year or two. Undoubtedly we should beat them, but why drain all my power in a second battle if things can be arranged more advantageously? After all, I have great plans, and eliminating my little northern rivals are a small part of them. I do not wish to be weakened for my southern conquests."

"As my lord says," lilma soothed. "Might not mat-ters be simplified if Odoac were to be slain in the coming battle?"