Part 8 (1/2)
In the silence that followed, Conan clearly heard the snik of a crossbow being c.o.c.ked. He laughed. ”Best tell that archer to c.o.c.k his bow while people are still talking. When everyone's gaping like dead fish, it's too easy to hear-”
The white-robed woman broke the silence with warm if high-pitched laughter. ”Mishrak, I told you several times. I have heard Raihna speak of this man and I have studied his aura. He is not one to be led by the nose, or by any other part of his body. Lead him by his sense of honor, and he will go where you will. Otherwise do not waste your breath.”
A choking noise crept from under the leather hood. Conan suspected that if Mishrak could have strangled anyone, he would have started with Conan and gone on to the woman. Beside Conan, Raihna was pressing her face into a pillar to hide her blush and what looked remarkably like laughter.
”May I deserve your praise, lady,” Conan said. ”Would I be speaking to Mistress Illyana?”
”You would.”
The woman also seemed to have northern blood in her, but her hair was brown with tints of auburn. She wore a simple flowing gown of white silk with saffron borders and silver-decorated sandals. The gown was too loose to show much of her body, but from the lines in the long face Conan judged her to be upwards of thirty. A trifle thin-flanked for his tastes, but not unhandsome.
Illyana accepted Conan's scrutiny in silence for a moment, then smiled.
”With Lord Mishrak's permission, I will tell you what is asked of you.
But first I will thank you for saving Raihna from death or shame. She began as a hired sword, but the years have made us spirit-sisters.”
Conan frowned. ”Auras” and ”spirit-kin” were things of priestcraft if not wizardry. What was this woman?
”I ask your aid in a search for the missing Jewel of Kurag. It is a thing of ancient Atlantean magic, set in an arm-ring of Vanir work-”
She went on to describe the history of the Jewels, as much as was known of it, from their mysterious origins in Atlantis to the present day. It seemed they had a long and b.l.o.o.d.y history, for the spells needed to use them safely were hard to learn even for the most accomplished sorcerers.
”Then why bother with the Jewels at all?” Conan asked.
”Even separately, they confer great power on a skilled user. Together, no one knows what limits there might be on the magic of their possessor.”
Conan reflected that he had learned nothing about sorcerers he had not long since known.
Illyana continued with the possession of the Jewels by her master Eremius, his growing ambition to use the powers of the Jewels to rule the world, their quarrel, her flight with one of the Jewels, and much else. She ended by saying that the tales of demons coming out of the Ibars Mountains hinted of Eremius's presence.
”With all in fear of him, his strength will grow steadily. Soon it will make him a valuable ally to ambitious men like Lord Houma. They will aid him, thinking to use his powers against their enemies. They will only be buying themselves the strongest chains of all, forged by the most ancient and evil magic.”
”Ancient and evil magic...” Conan heard those words with icy clarity, although he had heard most of what went before with only half an ear.
Mishrak was not only asking him to flee like a thief from Aghrapur and Lord Houma's vengeance. He was asking a Cimmerian to guard the back of a sorceress on a quest for a menace no honest steel could face. He would also have wagered his sword that Illyana was telling less than the whole truth about the Jewels.
No honor in any of this. But even less in leaving Pyla and Zaria and young Thebia (who might grow no older) to the mercy of those who had none, either.
Curse all women and whatever G.o.d created them as a joke on men! They might be a mystery themselves, but they certainly knew how to bring a man to them, like a trainer with a half-grown hunting dog!
”By Hanuman's stones!” Conan growled. ”I never thought listening could be as dry work as talking. Bring me and Raihna some wine, and I'll promise to fly to the moon and bring back its queen's loinguard!”
Two of the guardswomen sprang up without an order and vanished like hares fleeing the wolf. Conan sat down cross-legged and drew his sword.
Sighting along the blade for nicks, he concluded he'd best put it in the hands of a smith before setting out on serious business.
When he knew he had everyone's attention, he laughed. ”You want me to run off to the Ibars Mountains, with a half-mad swordwench and a more than half-mad sorceress. Then we hunt for a magic jewel and steal it from a completely mad wizard, fighting our way through whatever magic-sp.a.w.ned monsters we find. If we s.n.a.t.c.h the jewel, you'll win, whether we live or die.”
Mishrak laughed for the first time since Conan mentioned Houma. ”Conan, you should be one of my spies. I have none who could say half as much in twice as many words.”