Part 27 (1/2)

He shrugged his shoulders resignedly He was typical of the race evolved along Koth's southern borders tall and gaunt, with features leaner and more hawk-like than his purer- blooded desert kin

”Ishtar gives, princess” The fatalism of his ancestors spoke for him

”Wait here,” she conawed his velvet cap, Taurus muttered wearily under his breath, and A at his yellow beard and grinning like a hungry lion, Yash the curtains and clapped her hands for her slaves

At her coet, sollerets, cuirass, pauldrons, jaain drew the curtains, a Conan in burnished steel stood before his audience Clad in the plate-armor, vizor lifted and dark face shadowed by the black plurily noted A jest died suddenly on Amalric's lips

”By Mitra,” said he slowly, ”I never expected to see you cased in coat-arer-bones, Conan, I have seen kings ore their harness less

161regally than you!”

Conan was silent A vague shadow crossed his mind like a prophecy In years to come he was to remember Amalric's words, when the dream became the reality

In the early haze of dawn the streets of Khoraja were thronged by crowds of people atched the hosts riding froate The ar in richly wrought plate-ar above their burnished sallets Their steeds, caparisoned with silk, lacquered leather and gold buckles, caracoled and curvetted as their riders put thelints from lance-points that rose like a forest above the array, their pennons flowing in the breeze Each knight wore a lady's token, a glove, scarf or rose, bound to his helmet or fastened to his sword-belt They were the chivalry of Khoraja, five hundred strong, led by Count Thespides, who, men said, aspired to the hand of Yasht cavalry on rangy steeds The riders were typical hillmen, lean and hawk-faced; peaked steel caps were on their heads and chain- kaftans Their main weapon was the terrible Shemitish bohich could send a shaft five hundred paces There were five thousand of these, and Shupras rode at their head, his lean face moody beneath his spired helmet

Close on their heels marched the Khoraja spearmen, always coht cavalry the only honorable branch of service These, like the knights, were of ancient Kothic blood sons of ruined families, broken men, penniless youths, who could not afford horses and plate-arht up the rear, a thousand horsemen, two thousand speare as their riders; they rimly business-like aspect to these professional killers, veterans of bloody cans Clad from head to foot in chain-mail, they wore their vizorless head-pieces over linked coifs Their shi+elds were unadorned, their long lances without guidons At their saddle-bows hung battle-axes or steelbroadsword

The spearh they bore pikes instead of cavalry lances

They were men of aunt, big- boned, of slow speech and violent natures; tawny-haired Gunder Corinthian renegades; swarthy Zingarians, with bristling black mustaches and fiery tempers; Aquilonians froarians,

162were Hyborians

Behind all careat war-horse, and surrounded by a cluhters from the royal house-troops Its rider, under the silken canopy of the seat, was a sliht of which the populace, always mindful of royalty, threw up its leather cap and cheered wildly

Conan the Cimmerian, restless in his plate-arreat approval, and spoke to Amalric, who rode beside hiolden breastplate and hel horsehair crest

”The princess would go with us She's supple, but too soft for this work Anyway, she'll have to get out of these robes”

Arin Evidently Conan supposed Yasmela intended to strap on a sword and take part in the actual fighting, as the barbarian woht like your Cimmerian women, Conan,” he said

”Yasmela rides with us to watch the battle Anyway,” he shi+fted in his saddle and lowered his voice, ”between you and me, I have an idea that the princess dares not re? Maybe we'd better hang a few citizens before we start ”

”No One of herthat cahtened Yasmela half out of her wits It's some of Natohk's deviltry, I doubt not Conan, it's runted the Cio lanced at the long line of wagons and caathered the reins in hismercenaries, ”hell or plunder, co train the ponderous gates of Khoraja closed Eager heads lined the battle life or death go forth If the host was overthrown, the future of Khoraja would be written in blood In the hordes sware south, mercy was a quality unknown

All day the colu radually beginning to slope upward Ahead of the in an unbroken raht on the northern slopes of those hills, and hook-nosed, fiery-eyed men of the hill tribes came in scores to squat about the fires and repeat news that had coh their tales ran the na the de, the fiends of the underworld shook the earth with awful roaring He brought fire out of the air and consuates of walled cities, and burnt armored men to bits of charred bone His warriors covered the desert with their nuian troops in war-chariots under the rebel prince Kutamun

Conan listened unperturbed War was his trade Life was a continual battle, or series of battles; since his birth Death had been a constant companion It stalked horrifically at his side; stood at his shoulder beside the gaers rattled the wine-cups It loomed above him, a hooded and monstrous shadohen he lay down to sleep Herasp would close; that was all It was enough that he lived through the present

However, others were less careless of fear than he Striding back froure stayed him with an outstretched hand