Part 42 (2/2)

Conan hoped for Decius's sake that he would soon grow used to plain-spoken women of iron will. The captain-general seemed resolved to wed one, and she would not change to please him or any man.

”Let's not be burying our cause before it has stopped breathing,” Conan said. ”With all due respect, Your Majesty.”

”How much respect do you think is due a queen, Captain Conan?” Chienna asked. Her face was hard, but Conan thought he saw a hint of a smile at one corner of her mouth and more than a hint of laughter in her wide eyes.

”As much as she earns,” Conan said, and this time not only Chienna but the rest of the council laughed aloud.

Talk turned swiftly to the morrow's battle. Knowing that the Star Brothers were among the count's host somewhat confined the scope of their plans now.

Marr the Piper had to be protected. He was confident that he could hold back the Star Brothers' spells; he was not sure that he could leave the Star Brothers helpless against a well-wielded sword.

As for striking down them or anyone else with his magical piping-

”The G.o.ds did not make me fit to do that,” Marr said firmly.

”Fit, or willing?” Decius asked.

”Peace, my lord Decius,” the queen said. ”Thyrin, you seem eager to speak.”

”Marr is telling no more than the truth,” the Pougoi chief said. ”His spells are not to be wielded as a sword, like those of the Star Brothers. They are more kin to a s.h.i.+eld, or to a good leather helm.”

Conan hoped that Marr's piping would be more like iron than leather.

Leather helms had a way of letting the skull within them shatter at a shrewd blow. If he was going to fight with magic as a friend as well as a foe, Conan wanted the friends to overmatch the foes.

He also wanted to know if Thyrin was telling the truth or merely favoring Marr in the hope that he would finally declare for Wylla.

Having his daughter wed to the legendary Marr the Piper could make Thyrin mighty in the land, not just among the Pougoi.

He would certainly be undisputed chief among any Pougoi who lived to see tomorrow's sunset.

As to how they would array the royal host-if five hundred men deserved that t.i.tle-much would have to wait on the morrow. They could resolve to march in such order that the arraying would be swift. It would also be as well if Queen Chienna were in a safe place, or at least in a well-guarded one.

”Give the queen first claim on any men we can spare from the fighting line,” Marr said. Wylla threw him a stricken look, and he patted her hand.

”No, this is not folly. I am no great warrior, but I am fleet of foot.

What my spells cannot turn aside, I wager I can outrun.”

This was wagering the fate of the Border Kingdom on Marr's feet, but little save a dry throat would come of stating what all knew. Conan was silent.

As if she had read the Cimmerian's thoughts, Chienna rose. ”Good people, We judge this council to have done all it can. Mistress Raihna, will you do Us the favor of pouring the wine?”

Count Syzambry would not have fought on this day, or on this ground, had he been free to choose.

He was not. His scouts had advanced unmolested until they came up against the royal vanguard. That it was the Palace Guard was no surprise. That the giant Cimmerian was captain over it was. That giant would be shorter by a head by sunset, Syzambry resolved.

First, though, he had to win the battle, and to win, he had to fight.

He could not fight on ground that would let him array his whole host, not without retreating. That would dishearten some of the weaklings, and perhaps provoke the Star Brothers. Their silence since dawn was a blessing from the G.o.ds; Syzambry would not cast it aside now.

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