Part 32 (1/2)

”Shelter? Here? What do you think we are, the Royal Palace of Turan?”

Captain Shamil's temper seemed little improved. ”Even if we were, no pack of smelly hillmen will overrun-”

Kemal glared. The captain raised a hand to the archers on the wall.

Conan sidled to the left, ready to fling the messenger clear of the arrows. He would happily have flung Shamil over the walls like a dead goat from a siege engine. Had he and his charges not so direly needed peace with Fort Zheman and all in it-

”Captain, I'd wager we can bring at least the women and children inside,” Khezal said. He must have conjured his armor on to his body by magic, for he was now fully dressed for the field. His helmet and mail were silvered, but both showed an admirable array of patches and dents.

”We have room,” Khezal continued. ”Or at least we will, once we have formed a column to march upcoun-try. If we guard their women and children, will the men of the village join us? We shall need guides, and all the stout arms we can find.”

Conan observed that Khezal said nothing of the garrison being well under strength. His opinion of the man's wisdom and prudence rose further.

”By Mitra and Erlik, I swear to ask.” Kemal swallowed. ”I cannot swear that all will follow. If Bora lends his voice, however-”

”We don't need to bribe cowards with our own roof and rations!” Shamil shouted. It seemed to Conan that, foiled in his designs against Raihna, the captain sought someone to bully.

Conan was equally determined to defeat him. ”Are the other villages in the area in flight as well?” he asked Kemal.

”I rode to none, for Bora's orders were to come here at once. I am sure Bora has sent messengers on foot or on lesser horses than Windmaster to all he thinks in danger.”

”Mitra! We are to follow the whims of a stripling, who may be mad or a traitor for all I know. Indeed, isn't he the son of the Rhafi who lies in Aghrapur, suspected of-”

”Rhafi is innocent of everything except quarreling with your greedy louts of soldiers!” Kemal shouted. His hand leaped to the hilt of his knife. Shamil's hand rose to signal the,archers.

Neither hand completed its motion. Conan gripped both wrists and twisted, until he had the complete attention of both men.

”Are you demons in disguise, or what? If there are demons, we're fools to fight among ourselves. If there are none, something besides too much wine is frightening people!”

”Exactly so,” Khezal said, like a mother seeking to calm fractious children. A second glance told Conan that the man was balanced and ready to draw his sword, against whoever might need it.

”If all the villages come down, we can pick the best men to march with us. The rest can help garrison the fort, or escort those who travel on to Haruk.”

”They'll find scant hospitality in Haruk, after last night's riot,”

Shamil said. ”Scanter here, though, unless we feed them all the rations we'll need for the march.” He shrugged. ”Do as you wish, Khezal. You speak with my voice. I go to see to my armor and horses.”

The captain turned away. Before he could depart, a dulcet voice spoke up.

”Captain, permit me to help you. I know it is not easy to garb oneself with a wounded arm. I have some experience in helping men in such trouble.”

It was Dessa, standing between and slightly in front of Illyana and Raihna. Ma.s.souf stood behind the women, wearing trousers and a ferocious look. The girl wore an ankle-length robe, but, Conan judged, not a st.i.tch under it. Certainly Shamil could not have been staring at her more intently had she been naked.

Then he smiled. ”Thank you-Dessa, is it not? If you will help me arm, I have some wine too fine to jounce about in a saddlebag. We can share it before we march.”

”All I can do for you, shall be done.” Dessa said. She slipped her arm through Shamil's and they walked off together. Ma.s.souf's glare followed them, and the man himself would have done so but for Conan's grip on his arm and Raihna's dagger pointed at his belly.

”You filthy panderers,” Ma.s.souf hissed, struggling vainly to escape the Cimmerian's iron grip.

”We send Dessa nowhere she does not gladly go,” Raihna replied.

Conan nodded. ”Use your wits and not your tool, Ma.s.souf. The G.o.ds made Dessa a free-spirited wench. You won't make her a .quiet little wife.