Part 39 (2/2)

Syzambry cursed and smote the tent pole with his open palm. The shock awakened pain in several places; he stifled a cry.

When he was crowned king, the count decided, his first command would be that all who wished the royal favor would wait on him in his bedchamber. Especially Princess Chienna, and she would wait on him in very particular ways.

When Conan returned leading a host of Pougoi, Decius would have sympathized with Count Syzambry. The captain-general did not doubt Conan's tale, marvelous though it was. He did doubt the Pougoi's change of allegiance. Doubted it aloud and often, until at last Princess Chienna summoned him and bid him hold his tongue.

”These folk have no home and no retreat,” she said sharply. ”They can go forward only to doom at the hands of the tribes they have fought, or to some safety in friends.h.i.+p with us. Safety for those warriors who survive a battle that you yourself tell me will be a slaughterhouse.

Safety, also, for their women and babes.”

”You almost persuade me,” Decius said. ”Yet this matter is so grave that if King Eloikas-”

For a moment, Decius was sure that Chienna was about to strike him with an open hand. Then her fingers closed on the hilt of her dagger. When she spoke, her voice would have curdled milk.

”Decius, I am neither queen nor regent as yet. But if you trouble my father with this, I will find some way to repay you, outside the law if I find none within it. Go and make sheep's eyes at Mistress Raihna, or grant Lord Aybas his captain's warrant, or do anything that is of use!

But do not trouble my father, or I will do more than trouble you!”

Decius bowed and took his leave. In truth, the princess had the right of it. King Eloikas's heart was weakening. It would be a marvel if he lived to see the day of victory.

If it came. The ruin of the Pougoi, their beast, and the Star Brothers had dealt a shrewd blow against Count Syzambry. It had by no means ended the war.

Men were coming in from towns and villages the count had looted to support his host. But few were well-armed, and fewer still knew their way about a battlefield. Aybas would have his captaincy and more if he wished it, not because Decius altogether trusted him, but because beggars could not choose. A dozen captains and three hundred harnesses would have been more to Decius's liking.

There were tales as well that some of the tribes who no longer feared the Pougoi might take a hand in the war. But on which side? If they did come to the royal camp, would they keep the peace with their enemies for generations ? Perhaps it would be better for the royal cause if the tribes remained in their hills.

A score and more such questions marched and countermarched through Decius's mind as he walked from Chienna's tent. By the time he reached the edge of the camp, he decided that he would indeed visit Raihna. Not to ”make sheep's eyes at her”-in his dreams, he was doing far more-but to take counsel from her. Also from her Cimmerian, and even from Lord Aybas and Marr, if they could be brought to speak-

A drum began to beat somewhere behind him. Decius turned and saw Conan himself striding down the slope. His face was hard, and only the icy-blue eyes seemed to live.

”My lord captain-general. You are summoned to Her Highness.”

A cold hand gripped Decius's heart. Foreknowledge came, so he felt no surprise when Conan added:

”King Eloikas has just died. As chief among the n.o.bles present, you-”

”I know the laws and customs of the realm, Cimmerian. Believe me, I do.”

Decius's voice nearly broke on the last words. He wanted to cry ”Father!” so that the stars and the moon would hear him.

The Cimmerian had the grace to look away until the captain-general regained command of himself. When he had done so, the two warriors began retracing their steps up the hill toward the royal tent.

Count Syzambry s.h.i.+fted restlessly in his padded chair. He had spent the whole day not merely out of bed, but at work, save for the short sleep that his surgeon urged upon him in the afternoon. An afternoon nap, as if he were a child still in smallclothes!

Perhaps he no longer needed that nap. Perhaps it was that which kept him awake now, growing more restless and uneasy as the sun slipped below the mountain peaks. The sunset gilded some of the snowcaps on the highest peaks, turned others crimson. The breeze had died with the coming of twilight, and the count felt as if the world were holding its breath in antic.i.p.ation.

Antic.i.p.ation of what? He knew what he awaited, at least. Tonight Zylku should return from among the Pougoi. Perhaps he would even return with the truth about the state of the tribe.

From the scouts who watched the royal camp, Syzambry had learned that at least some of the Pougoi had turned their colors. They were led by a man who might be Aybas-and if Aybas had turned traitor, Syzambry could not think of a death hard enough for him!

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