Part 36 (2/2)

The tentacle waved in the mist, groping, then stretched out its tip toward them. Conan lurched to his feet, shouting curses and calling on every G.o.d he thought might let him die like a warrior.

The rainbow colors in the mist and the fire in the lake died. A vast roar that made the beast's cry seem a pitiful mewling filled the night.

The mist rose higher yet, but not as thickly as before. Through the base of the cloud of mist, Conan saw the dam crumble.

The water of the lake thundered into the valley in a solid white wall.

It moved faster than a galloping horse, as fast as a flying hawk. Conan knew trial fie was seeing the death of the Pougoi.

He also saw the beast, although dimly because of the mist. A vast, carapaced shape festooned with tentacles swept into view, then washed through the remains of the dam and down into the valley.

Conan did not see the beast after that, although he knew the moment of its death... knew it because the ground shuddered again, and a roar that was almost a scream tore at his ears and a stench like all the graves of the world opened at once filled the night.

How long the Cimmerian gazed into the mist that shrouded the dying valley, he did not know. He was recalled to knowledge of the world and work to be done by Raihna's hand on his arm.

”Conan. The rock has crumbled to within an arm's length of your feet.

If any more falls, you may well fall with it.”

Conan looked down and saw that Raihna was right. He shook off both her arm and his bemus.e.m.e.nt and began to climb.

”That settles the matter of pursuit, to be sure,” he said when halfway up the cliff. ”I only wish I knew if the Star Brothers drowned along with their tribesmen.”

”Pray that they did,” Raihna said. ”I doubt if Marr could spellbind a stray puppy, and we've not heard the last of Syzambry's men.”

The piper was at least in his right senses and sitting up when Conan and Raihna rejoined their comrades. He held Wylla close to his chest while she alternately wept and keened for the dead.

Aybas was wrapping his cloak about the princess. Above the waist, she was still more unclad than not, but below the waist, she had made herself seemly, if not regal. She was letting the babe suck on one or her fingers, and that seemed to have soothed his cries.

”Best we find a milch goat or a ewe and soak a rag in the milk,” the princess said. ”Urras has thrived on becoming a nurse-brother to the Pougoi. He may not do so well on the road home.”

”Milch goat?!' Conan echoed. He realized that he was still a trifle bemused. He hoped that it was only from being too close to such a mighty duel of magic.

”Conan,” the princess said, ”I could hardly ask you to carry off a wet-nurse. But every patch of hillside about here has its goats. Any who are not good for my babe's milk will surely be good for our rations, will they not?”

”Certainly, my lady-I beg your pardon, Your Highness.”

”No pardon needed, Conan. You and your comrades-I would not have asked of anyone sworn to me what you have done of your own will.” She looked up at the sky, where stars now shone dimly as a rising wind blew away clouds and mist alike.

”The night is half gone, I fear,” she added. ”Best we use what is left of it to put some distance between ourselves and any of the Pougoi who may yet live.”

Conan hoped that the princess would leave the swordplay to those better fitted for it. Otherwise, he would not quarrel with her apparent wish to command on the march homeward!

He looked down into the valley. Mist still rose in random wisps, but a great sheet of water gleamed beneath it. Here and there, huts and high ground jutted above the flood, and on one patch of high ground, Conan saw tiny figures moving.

Of the beast, the Star Brothers, or Thyrin, there was no sign.

Conan rose, stretched to ease cramped muscles, then turned to Raihna.

”Raihna, which of us is the better goatherd, do you think?”

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