Conan The Defender Part 33

"As I was saying," Hordo resumed, striding beside the Cimmerian, "she walked into the Thestis ready to take command. Wouldn't tell me where she'd been, or how she knew where I was. Threatened to put a scar down my other cheek if I did not stop asking questions."

His lone eye swiveled to Conan expectantly, but the big youth was watching Karela, wondering what was in her mind. Why had she come to rescue him? "And?" he said absently when he realized that Hordo had stopped talking.

The one-eyed man grunted sourly. "And n.o.body tells me anything," he grunted sourly. "She had a woman with her. You remember the Lady Jelanna? 'Twas her, but not so haughty this time. Bedraggled and haggard, she was, with bruises on her face and arms, and terrified to tears. 'She will not stop,' she kept moaning, 'not until I am broken.'

And Karela kept soothing her and looking at the rest of us like it was us had done whatever had been done to this Jelanna."

"Crom," Conan muttered. "Do you have to be so long-winded? What does Jelanna have to do with anything?"

"Why, it was her told Karela how to find this pa.s.sage. Lady Jelanna grew up in the Palace, it seems, playing hide-and-seek and such, as children do. Only sometimes they played in the old parts of the Palace, and she found three or four of the secret pa.s.sages. She got out of the Palace by one herself. She was desperate to get out of the city, Cimmerian, so I told off two men to escort her to her estate in the country. Least I could do, and her showing us how to get in to you. I tell you true, I thought the next time I saw you we'd both be taking a pull at the h.e.l.lborn."

"That still doesn't tell me why she would aid me," Conan said, with a jerk of his head at Karela to indicate which 'she' he meant.

Hardly were the words out of his mouth than the auburn-haired woman rounded on him. "The wolves were too good for you, you big Cimmerian oaf. If you are to be torn to pieces, I want to do it with my own hands. I want to hear you beg my forgiveness, you barbar b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I get first call at you, before that fool Garian."

Conan eyed her calmly, a slight smile on his lips. "Did you stop because you lost the way, Karela? I will take the lead, an you wish."

With a snarl she drew back her torch as if to strike him with it.

"There it is," Hordo shouted, pointing to a short flight of stairs, barely revealed by the light, that led up to the ceiling and stopped.

Relief dripped from every word. "Come on, Cimmerian," he went on, herding Conan quickly past the furious-eyed woman. "We had trouble getting this back in place, in case anybody should take a look at the other side, but you and I should be able to lift it clear." In a fierce whisper he added, "Watch your tongue, man. She's been like a scalded cat ever since Machaon and those other fools told her they'd never heard of the Red Hawk."

Eyeing the fierce scowl with which Karela watched them, Conan managed to turn his laughter into a cough. "This other side," he said. "Where is it? If there's anyone there, will they be likely to fight?"

"Not a chance of it," Hordo laughed. "Now put your shoulder into it."

The stairs seemed to end in one large slab of stone. It was to this Hordo urged Conan to apply himself. When he did, the thick slab lifted.

With Hordo's aid he slid it aside, then scrambled warily up. A heavy smell of incense filled the air. As the others followed with torches, Conan saw that he was in a windowless room filled with barrels and bales. Some of the bales were broken open to reveal incense sticks.

"A temple?" the Cimmerian asked in disbelief. "The pa.s.sage comes out in the cellar of a temple?"

Hordo laughed and nodded. Motioning for silence, the one-eyed man climbed a wooden ladder fastened to one wall, and cautiously lifted a trapdoor. His head went up for a quick look, then he motioned the rest to follow and scrambled out himself.

Conan was quick to follow. He found himself in dim light from silver lamps, between a large rectangular block of marble and a towering, shadowed statue. With a start it came to him that he was between the altar stone and the idol of Erebus, a place where none but sanctified priests were allowed. But then, what was one death sentence more or less?

Quickly everyone found their way out of the cellar and, by way of narrow halls of pale marble, to a courtyard behind the temple. There two more of the Free-Company waited with the horses. And, Conan was glad to note, with hauberk, helm and scimitar for him. Hastily he armed himself properly.

"We can be beyond the city walls," Hordo said, swinging into his saddle, "before they think to look outside the Palace."

"We cannot leave yet," Conan said quietly. He settled his helm on his head and likewise mounted. "Ariane is in Alba.n.u.s' hands."

"Yet another woman?" Karela said dangerously.

"She befriended Hordo and me," Conan said, "and as reward for it Alba.n.u.s has her. I swore to see her safely out of this, and I will."

"You and your oaths," Karela muttered, but when he galloped out of the courtyard she was first of the company behind him.

Chapter XXIII.

Isolated plumes of smoke rose into the bright afternoon sky above Belverus, marking houses of the wealthy that had been visited by revolutionary mobs. The sound of those mobs could be heard from time to time, borne on the breeze. It was a wordless, hungering snarl.

Once in that gallop across the city Conan saw one of those howling packs, some three of four score ragged men and women pounding at the locked doors and barred windows of a house with axes, swords, rocks, their bare hands. In the same instant that he saw them, they became aware of the Free-Company. A growl rippled through them, a sound that seemed impossible to come from a human throat, and like rats pouring from a sewer they threw themselves toward the mounted men. In their eyes was a hatred of any who had more than they, even if it was only armor. Many of the weapons they waved were bloodied.

"The bows will drive them back," Hordo shouted.

Conan was not so sure. There was desperation in those faces. "Ride," he commanded.

Galloping on, they quickly left the mob behind, yet even as it was disappearing from sight its members kept pursuing, their howls heard long after they could no longer be seen.

On reaching Alba.n.u.s' palace, Conan did not pause. "Every third man stay with the horses," he commanded. "Everybody else over the wall. Bring your bows. Not you," he added, as Karela maneuvered her horse close to the wall.

"You do not command me, Cimmerian," she spat back. "I go where I please."

"Erlik take all hardheaded women," Conan muttered, but he said no more to her.

Standing on his saddle and taking a care where he placed his hands among the pottery shards, he hoisted himself to the top of the wall. As if they had trained for such a thing Hordo, Karela and four and twenty of the others smoothly followed. Below, half a score of men ran from the gatehouse. They had only time to gape before arrows humming like hornets cut them down.

Conan dropped to the ground inside, his eyes blue ice, and ran past the bodies. He half heard the thuds of the others following, but he paid them no mind. Ariane filled his mind. His word had sent her to Alba.n.u.s.

Now his honor demanded he free her if it cost his own life.

With a single heave of his ma.s.sive arm he threw back one of the tall door of the palace. Before the crash of its striking the marble wall had finished reverberating in the columned hall, a helmeted man in the cloak of the Golden Leopards ran to face the young Cimmerian giant, sword in hand.

"Ariane," Conan shouted as he beat aside the soldier's attack. "Where are you, Ariane?" His blade half-severed the man's head; he kicked the falling body aside and hurried deeper into the palace. "Ariane!"

More Golden Leopards appeared now, and Conan threw himself at them in a frenzy, his wild battle cry ringing from the arched ceiling, his blade slashing and hacking as if possessed of a demon, or wielded by one. The soldiers fell back in confusion, leaving three of their number dead or dying, unsure of how to face this wildman of the barbarian northcountry. Then Hordo and the others were on them as well. The one-eyed man's fierce mien was matched by the ferocity of his attack.

Karela danced among them, blade darting like a wasp, each time drawing back blooded.

Even as the last body fell, Conan was shouting to his men. "Spread out.

Search every room, if need be. Find the girl called Ariane."

He himself strode through the halls like an avenging G.o.d. Servants and slaves took one look at the thundercloud of his face and fled. He let them go, seeking only one person. Then he saw another that interested him. The gray-bearded chamberlain tried to run, but Conan seized a fistful of the man's tunic and lifted him till only the other's toes touched the floor.

Conan's voice held the promise of death. "Where is the girl Ariane, chamberlain?"

"I... I know no girl-"

Conan's arm knotted, lifted the other clear of the floor. "The girl,"

he said softly

Sweat beaded the chamberlain's face. "Lord Alba.n.u.s," he gasped. "He took her to the Royal Palace."

With a groan the Cimmerian let the gray-bearded man drop. The chamberlain darted away; Conan let him go. The Palace. How could he get to her there? Could he return through the secret pa.s.sage from the Temple of Erebus? He would spend the rest of his life wandering in the ancient labyrinth without ever finding his way into the newer Palace.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to find Hordo bearing down on him, Machaon and Karela close behind.

"Machaon found someone in the dungeons," Hordo said quickly. "Not the girl. A man who looks like King Garian, and even claims he-"