Part 26 (1/2)
”Do not be afraid,” she said ”I am Yasmela, but there is no reason to feareyes darting all about the chamber ”What manner of trap is this?”
”There is no trickery,” she answered ”I brought you here because you can aid o into the streets and ask aid of the firsthe could understand The barbarians had their oracles He lowered his sword, though he did not sheathe it
”Well, if you're Yasdom's in a devil of a mess
But how can I aid you? If you want a throat cut, of course ”
”Sit down,” she requested ”Vateesa, bring hi care, she noticed, to sit with his back against a solid wall, where he could watch the whole chamber He laid his naked sword across his lanced at it in fascination Its dull blue glimmer seemed to reflect tales of bloodshed and rapine; she doubted her ability to lift it, yet she knew that the htly as she could wield a riding-whip She noted the breadth and power of his hands; they were not the stubby undeveloped paws of a troglodyte With a guilty start she found herself iers locked in her dark hair
He seemed reassured when she deposited herself on a satin divan opposite him He lifted off his basinet and laid it on the table, and drew back his coif, letting the mail folds fall upon his massive shoulders She saw more fully now his unlikeness to the Hyborian races In his dark, scarred face there was a suggestion ofmarked by depravity, or definitely evil, there was estion of the sinister about his features, set off by his s blue eyes A low broad forehead was topped by a square-cut tousled
”Who are you?” she asked abruptly
”Conan, a captain of the ulp and holding it out for more ”I was born in Ciuely that it was a wild grim hill-country which lay far to the north, beyond the last outposts of the Hyborian nations, and was peopled by a fierce moody race She had never before seen one of theazed at him with the deep dark eyes that had enslaved many a heart
”Conan of Cimmeria,” she said, ”you said I needed aid Why?”
”Well,” he answered, ”anyyour brother in an Ophirean prison; here is Koth plotting to enslave you; here is this sorcerer screa hell-fire and destruction down in She every day”
She did not at once reply; it was a new experience for a htly to her, his words not couched in courtier phrases
”Why are , Conan?” she asked
”So at the wine-jar with relish ”Many think Khoraja is doohtened by tales of this dog
158
Natohk
”Will theas you pay us well,” he answered frankly ”Your politics are nothing to us You cantrust Aeneral, but the rest of us are only common men who love loot If you pay the ransom Ophir asks, o over to the king of Koth, though that cursed ht loot this city In a civil war the plunder is always plentiful”
”Why would you not go over to Natohk?” she inquired
”What could he pay us?” he snorted ”With fat-bellied brass idols he looted fro Natohk, you may trust us
”Would your comrades follow you?” she asked abruptly