Part 44 (2/2)
Conan's urge to shake some wits into the man rose again. He forced it down. Ma.s.souf might want to die, but he had proved himself hardy and careful, not to mention a good hand with the bow and the spear. If he died, he would likely enough take some of the enemy with him.
Bora found them a refuge that Conan himself could not have bettered. It had a spring of clear water, shelter from the sun, and concealment from the enemy. It even offered a safe way of flight, if needed.
”Bora, if you ever join the army, I'll wager you're a captain before you can turn around,” Conan said.
”You are not the first to say so, and I thank you all,” Bora said soberly. ”But I cannot think of that until I know my father is pardoned and safe. Even then, I will be needed for the rebuilding of Crimson Springs.”
Conan found himself exchanging looks with the two women. Bora's optimism was easier to hear than Ma.s.souf's grim despair. It altered not a whit their slim chances of both winning and surviving to enjoy their victory.
The night mists swirled up from the valley in their natural silver-gray. No magic or at least no Jewel-spells were at work. Conan crawled to the crest and looked at the scree-strewn slope plunging away into the mist.
”If this is the best way down,” he whispered, ”Erlik spare me seeing the worst!”
”I am not a G.o.d, to arrange these mountains to make our task easier,”
Bora said. ”I can only tell you how they are arranged.”
”Without any thought for us, that's certain,” Raihna said.
The banter kept their spirits up, but it took time. Conan signed for silence, then one by one led the party to the crest.
”Can you climb down that?” he whispered to each one. ”Can you climb up it again, with the Transformed at your heels?”
He did not ask Bora, who could have taught climbing to goats. The others all nodded, save Ma.s.souf, who shrugged.
”If you can't climb, we may not be able to carry you,” Conan said, in a final effort to wean Ma.s.souf from his dark intent.
”If I am not climbing, I can make better practice with spear and bow,”
Ma.s.souf replied. His eyes dared Conan to press him further.
”Likely enough there will be places we can defend lower down,” Bora said. ”If the sentries are alert, they will give the alarm before we reach the heart of Eremius's domain.”
”Pray that it is not too soon,” Illyana said. ”The necessary spells must be cast with the two Jewels as close as we can contrive.”
”You've persuaded us of that,” Conan said. ”Otherwise why would we be sticking our head into a wasp's nest to count the wasps?”
What they were doing was in fact many times worse than that. It was also utterly necessary. Illyana had said a wearying number of times that she could no longer fight Eremius's magic from a distance. Before the Jewels' will grew in them, it might have been otherwise. Now, however, they had to draw Eremius close. Otherwise she might exhaust her strength and her Jewel with nothing accomplished, leaving them with no magical protection against Eremius.
”Besides, if Eremius unleashes the Transformed, he must use some of his power to command them. I will have no such burden.”
”No, you've a band of thick-witted sword-wielders to save you from it!”
Conan had growled. ”Proof that my wits are thicker than the mist is that I'm here!”
”Thank the G.o.ds for that,” Illyana said, softly but with unexpected pa.s.sion.
Even Ma.s.souf managed the climb down with little trouble. Conan was sure they had made enough noise to awaken sentries in Stygia, but no one barred their path.
”Could Eremius be resting his men while he heals the Transformed?”
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