Part 27 (2/2)

”It seems to Us that you have done good service, and that your skill and loyalty are not in doubt,” Eloikas said at last. ”Lord Decius, do you have aught to add to what We have said to this worthy Cimmerian?”

In his mind, the worthy Cimmerian performed rites of aversion to keep Decius's mouth shut. The rites, the tone of the king's voice, or perhaps merely Decius's good sense, did the work.

”No, Your Majesty. Few men could have done as well as Captain Conan.

Fewer still could have done better.”

”Thank you, my lord,” Conan said with elaborate politeness. ”The woodcutter who guided us here is without, along with Mistress Raihna.

May I have the king's leave to bring them within? I believe that the king himself should hear the woodcutter's tale.”

That tale was shorter than Conan had feared it might be, for Marr entered the tent with his pipes on his belt. Conan heard Decius suck in his breath, and the king's eyes widened.

”I had thought I was unknown,” the piper said calmly, sitting down without asking leave. ”It seems that my knowledge was not complete.”

”Your pipes have been a legend in the land since before my daughter was born,” Eloikas said. He was trying to seem at ease, but Conan noticed that he said ”my” instead of the royal ”Our.”

”You yourself are not much less of one,” Decius added. ”What brings you here, piper? Consider that your magic shook down the palace and slew a good number of the king's men, and give a civil answer!”

”He will give no answer at all unless you are silent,” Raihna said. Her eyes locked with the captain-general's, and it was not the woman who looked away.

Marr sighed. It was the most human sound Conan had heard from him yet.

”I have walked a long road to come to a place I had hoped never to see.

I beg you not to make the road longer.”

He touched his pipes. ”May I play a trifle? I think I know a tune or two that will make matters easier among us.”

”A spell-weaving tune?” Decius muttered. But Eloikas looked at the Cimmerian and Raihna rather than at his captain-general. The two outlanders shook their heads. Eloikas nodded, and Marr began to play.

Afterward Conan remembered few of the sensations that flowed through him like an underground stream as the piper played. One was surprise that the music sounded so much like common piping that any shepherd lad might have played to soothe himself when twilight drew near and the wolves approached.

Another was an amazing sense of being at peace with himself and every other creature in the world. He would not have embraced Count Syzambry as a brother, but the count would have been safe from the Cimmerian's steel while the music played.

Much beyond that, Conan could not have found words to name what he felt. He only remembered clearly that when the music ended, all of the people in the tent looked as if they had just waked from a healing sleep.

Marr wrapped his pipes and returned them to their bag. ”I have done as much as I can for now,” he said. ”I would rather hear Captain Conan speak. I am sure that on the road here he has devised a plan to rescue Princess Chienna and Prince Urras.”

Conan muttered something best not said aloud in the presence of either kings or sorcerers. Trust a sorcerer to call for a miracle and then lay the burden of its performance on a common man's shoulders, with royal wrath awaiting failure!

Yet it seemed to Conan that he had more thoughts on the matter than he had suspected. It also seemed that they came to his lips more swiftly than usual. Had Marr put them there? Or had the piper merely made it easier for Conan to say what was already in his mind?

The smells of woodsmoke, heating stew, and pine needles reached Decius's nostrils as he strode through the camp. As he approached the Cimmerian's tent, the aroma of leather and oil joined the others.

”Captain Conan,” Decius said. ”Are you alone?”

”Yes.”

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