Part 45 (1/2)
Illyana asked.
”Perhaps,” was Conan's whispered reply. ”I'd wager he's resting them by patrolling a smaller area. Sooner or later, we'll find somebody ready to welcome visitors.”
They moved on in silence. No more words were needed, and the mist seemed to eerily distort speech. It was also thick enough to make their bows and Bora's sling tar less useful.
Conan no longer despised the bow as a coward's weapon, but it was still not his favorite. He would gladly have given up his sword, however, in return for not having to trust to Illyana's spells. If he could have been altogether certain they would be hers alone, it would have been different. With the Jewels friends or foes in their own right-
”Hssst!” came from Bora, in the lead. ”Somebody ahead.”
Before Conan could reply, he heard the whirr of the sling winding up, then a hiss, a thump, and a faint clatter.
”That's one-” Bora began.
”Hoyaaaa! Guard! Turn out the guard!” came a scream from the left.
Whoever was screaming was frightened nearly witless, but giving the alarm like a soldier.
Conan cursed. It was all very well to speak of drawing the enemy after you, but when you could not see each other in this cursed mist-
Half a dozen human fighters stormed out of the mist, spears and swords raised. Conan and Raihna met them head-on, to keep them from Illyana.
In the flurry of steel that followed, Conan had no eyes for anyone save those in sword's reach of him. Two men went down before his blade, then suddenly the mist lay empty before him. Silence returned, save for the diminis.h.i.+ng hammer of panic-stricken feet.
”I had one,” Raihna said. ”Bora picked off another with that sling of his. Will you teach me to use it?”
”The G.o.ds willing. How is Ma.s.souf?”
The young man raised a b.l.o.o.d.y spear. He looked as if he did not know whether to sing in triumph or spew in horror. At least first-kill fright was better than black despair!
”Let's be on our way back,” Conan said.
”The Transformed are not yet unleashed,” Illyana said. She had one hand pressing the other arm where the Jewel-ring sat. It let her make some use of the Jewel without revealing herself with its emerald light.
”They will be, when somebody finds these bodies,” Conan said. ”Come along. Best we don't let ourselves be surrounded.”
”That's putting it delicately,” Raihna began.
Then the whole world seemed to turn an eye-searing green, of no hue Conan had ever seen or imagined. A moment later the mist vanished, as if a giant mouth had sucked it out of the valley. The light turned the familiar emerald of the Jewels.
As the vanis.h.i.+ng mist revealed the valley around Conan's party, it also revealed at least fifty of the Transformed swarming down the north side.
”Eremius comes!” Illyana screamed.
”Set to devour Eremius!” growled Conan, unsling-ing his bow. ”Stop talking and start shooting, woman. We've a chance to improve the odds!”
Raihna was already unleas.h.i.+ng arrows. The range was long even for her stout Bossonian bow, but the target was hard to miss. Every arrow from her bow, then from Conan's, then from Illyana's and Ma.s.souf's, struck Transformed flesh.
Struck, but did not pierce. At this range the scales of the Transformed were as good as the finest mail. Conan saw human fighters running downhill on the flanks of the Transformed and s.h.i.+fted to them. He killed four of them before their courage broke. By then he was nearby out of arrows.
The Transformed reached level ground. With arrows jutting from them, the Transformed looked even more monstrous than before. Jewel-light seared Conan's eyes again, as Illyana slung her bow, flung back her sleeves, and began wielding her magic.
When he could see clearly again, the Transformed had ceased their advance. Instead they huddled together, glaring in all directions. Some s.n.a.t.c.hed arrows from their hides, others bit their taloned hands and whimpered like starving dogs.