Part 22 (2/2)

Bora half-feared that he had finally said too much. Who was he, at sixteen, to order men old enough to be his grandfather?

Instead he saw nods, and heard men offering to walk to the other village with a message. He refused to decide who should go. He took one of the towels, dipped it into the stream, then wrung it out and tied it around his left arm.

”I will take this to Ivram,” he shouted, raising the arm. ”The demons were too weak to harm me, so there is little to fear. There may be much to learn, and Ivram will know how to learn it.”

Bora hoped that was true. The priest was said to know many odd bits of arcane lore, without being truly a sorcerer. Even so, Ivram might not be able to answer the most urgent question.

How close were the demons? To send men out to seek them would be murder. To wait and let them come at a time of their own choosing would be folly. What else could be done? Bora did not know, but Ivram could at least help him hide this ignorance.

Also, Ivram and Maryam were the two people in the whole village to whom Bora could admit that he was frightened.

By mid-afternoon Conan judged it safe to leave the hills and press on to the next town. He would have felt safer pressing all the way to the garrison at Fort Zheman, but that would have meant riding by night.

Also, Dessa and Ma.s.souf were near the end of their strength.

”They might go farther if they hadn't spent so much time quarreling,”

Conan told Raihna. ”I won't turn that young lady over my knee, but I'll pray Ma.s.souf does and soon. For all our sakes, not just his!”

”I much doubt he'll find it in himself to do that,” Raihna said. ”He sounds like a man who isn't quite sure now he wanted his dream to come true.”

”If he doesn't know what he wants, then he and Dessa will be well-matched,” Conan growled. ”I'll even pay for their wedding, if they have no kin left. Anything, just so we don't have to carry those witlings into the mountains!”

Unmoved by Conan's opinion, the reunited lovers were still quarreling when the party rode into Haruk. They fell silent while Conan found rooms at an inn with stout walls, a back door, and good wine. Then their quarreling began again, when Illyana announced thatlthey would share a room to themselves.

”I won't!” Dessa said simply.

”I won't touch you, Dessa,” Ma.s.souf said. He sounded genuinely contrite. ”Don't be afraid.”

”Afraid! Of you? A real man I'd fear, but-”

Glares from Illyana, Raihna, and Conan silenced her, but not soon enough. An angry flush crept up into Ma.s.souf's face and his voice shook as he spoke.

”I'm not man enough for you? What are you, Dessa? Did you find a trull's heart in-”

The slap Dessa aimed would have floored Ma.s.souf if Conan hadn't stepped between them. He held one hand over Dessa's mouth while he opened the door of her room with the other. Then he s.h.i.+fted his grip, to the collar and hem of her borrowed tunic, swung her back and forth a few times, and tossed her neatly on to the bed.

”Now, Ma.s.souf,” Conan said with elaborate courtesy. ”Would it be your pleasure to walk into the room? Or would you prefer to imitate a bird?”

Ma.s.souf cursed but walked. Conan kicked the couple's baggage in after them, then pulled the door shut and bolted it from the outside.

”Here,” Illyana said. She held out a cup of wine. Conan emptied it without taking it from his lips.

”Bless you,” he said, wiping his mouth. He stopped short of adding that she knew well what a man might need. Such jests clearly reached some old, deep wound. If he could give her no good memories, he could at least not prod the scabs and scars.

”I don't know if they'll have a peaceful night,” Raihna said. ”But I intend to.” She put an arm around Conan's waist.

”If it's peace you want, Raihna, you may have to wait a while for it.”

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