Part 10 (1/2)

Conan sprang as a dying tiger springs Practised fighter though the Adventurer was, he did not realize the desperate quickness that lurks in barbaric sinews He was caught off guard, his heavy sword half lifted

Before he could either strike or parry, the king's poniard sheathed itself in his throat, above the gorget, slanting doard into his heart With a choked gurgle he reeled and went down, and Conan ruthlessly tore his blade free as his victim fell The white horse snorted violently and shi+ed at the sight and scent of blood on the sword

Glaring down at his lifeless ene on his broad breast, Conan poised like a statue, listening intently In the woods about there was no sound, save for the sleepy cheep of awakened birds But in the city, a mile away, he heard the strident blare of a trumpet

Hastily he bent over the fallen e the ht have borne was intended to be conveyed by word of mouth But he did not pause in his task It was not many hours until dawn A fewthe white road, and the rider wore the grayof the Veil

Conan knew his only chance of escape lay in speed He did not even consider hiding somewhere near Belverus until the chase passed on; he was certain that the uncanny ally of Tarascus would be able to ferret hiht or an open chase, either suited his te start, he knew He would lead the race for the border

Zenobia had chosen well in selecting the white horse His speed, toughness and endurance were obvious The girl kneeapons and horses, and, Conan reflected with soait that ate up the h which he rode, past grove-sheltered villages and white-walled villas arew sparser as he fared ard As the villages thinned, the land grew ed, and the keeps that frowned from eminences told of centuries of border war But none rode down froe or halt hi the banner of Amalric; the pennons that ont to wave over these toere now floating over the Aquilonian plains

When the last huddled village fell behind hi to bend toward the northwest, toward the distant passes To keep to the road would arrisoned with armed men ould not allow him to pass unquestioned

He knew there would be no patrols riding the border marches on either side, as in ordinary times, but there were those towers, and with dawn there would probably be cavalcades of returning soldiers ounded men in ox-carts

This road from Belverus was the only road that crossed the border for fifty miles froh the hills, and on either hand lay a wide expanse of wild, sparsely inhabitedto cross the border deep in the wilds of the hills that lay to the south of the passes It was a shorter route, itive One man on a horse could traverse country an army would find impassable

But at dawn he had not reached the hills; they were a long, low, blue ra the horizon ahead of hies, no white-walled villas loo trees The daind stirred the tall stiff grass, and there was nothing but the long rolling swells of brown earth, covered with dry grass, and in the distance the gaunt walls of a stronghold on a low hill Too many Aquilonian raiders had crossed the mountains in not too distant days for the countryside to be thickly settled as it was farther to the east

Dawn ran like a prairie fire across the grasslands, and high overhead sounded a weird crying as a straggling wedge of wild geese winged swiftly southward In a grassy swale Conan halted and unsaddled his , its coat plastered with sweat He had pushed it unh the hours before dawn

While it rass and rolled, he lay at the crest of the low slope, staring eastward Far away to the northward he could see the road he had left, strea like a white ribbon over a distant rise

No black dots n about the castle in the distance to indicate that the keepers had noticed the lone wayfarer

An hour later the land still stretched bare The only sign of life was a glint of steel on the far-off battlements, a raven in the sky that wheeled backward and forth, dipping and rising as if seeking so

Conan saddled and rode ard at a ait

As he topped the farther crest of the slope, a raucous screa up, he saw the raven flapping high above hi incessantly As he rode on, it followed hi hideous with its strident cries, heedless of his efforts to drive it away

This kept up for hours, until Conan's teeth were on edge, and he felt that he would give half his kingdo that black neck

'Devils of hell!' he roared in futile rage, shaking his mailed fist at the frantic bird 'Why do you harry one, you black spawn of perdition, and peck for wheat in the far the first pitch of the hills, and he seemed to hear an echo of the bird's cla in his saddle, he presently ain he caught the glint of the afternoon sun on steel That couldthe beaten road, which was out of his sight beyond the horizon They were following hihtly as he stared at the raven that wheeled high above him

'So it is more than the whim of a brainless beast?' he muttered 'Those riders cannot see you, spawn of hell; but the other bird can see you, and they can see him You follow me, he follows you, and they follow him Are you only a craftily trained feathered creature, or some devil in the form of a bird? Did Xaltotun set you on my trail? Are you Xaltotun?'