Part 18 (1/2)

Salorasped her sister's dishevelled hair and forced back the girl's head to stare into her eyes Tara

'You are not so ready with your tears as forirl

'You shall wring no more tears from me,' answered Taramis 'Too often you have reveled in the spectacle of the queen of Khauran sobbing for mercy on her knees I know that you have spared me only to torment me; that is why you have limited your tortures to such torure But I fear you no longer; you have strained out the last vestige of hope, fright and shame from me Slay me and be done with it, for I have shed my last tear for your enjoyment, you she-devil from hell!'

'You flatter yourself, my dear sister,' purred Salome 'So far it is only your handsome body that I have caused to suffer, only your pride and self-esteeet that, unlike myself, you are capable of aled you with narratives concerning the comedies I have enacted with soht more vivid proof of these farces Did you know that Krallides, your faithful councillor, had co back from Turan and been captured?'

Taramis turned pale

'What - what have you done to him?'

For answer Salome drew the mysterious bundle-fros and held it up -the head of a young man, the features frozen in a convulsion as if death had coony

Taramis cried out as if a blade had pierced her heart

'Oh, Ishtar! Krallides!'

'Aye! He was seeking to stir up the people againstthem that Conan spoke the truth when he said I was not Taraainst the Falcon's She his headless body in the market-place, and this foul carrion shall be cast into the sewer to rot

'How, sister!' She paused, s down at her victim 'Have you discovered that you still have unshed tears? Good! I reserved the mental torhts as - this!'

Standing there in the torchlight with the severed head in her hand she did not look like anything ever borne by a human woman, in spite of her awful beauty Taramis did not look up She lay face down on the sli her clenched hands against the stones Salo at each step, her ear pendants winking in the torch-glare

A few ed from a door under a sullen arch that led into a court which in turn opened upon a winding alley A iant Shereat black beard falling over his hty, silver-mailed breast

'She wept?' His rumble was like that of a bull, deep, low-pitched and storeneral of the mercenaries, one of the few even of Constantius's associates who knew the secret of the queens of Khauran

'Aye, Khuash There are whole sections of her sensibilities that I have not touched When one sense is dulled by continual laceration, I will discover a newer, ure in rags, filth and ars that slept in the alleys and open courts Salome tossed the head to him 'Here, deaf one; cast that in the nearest sewer Make the sign with your hands, Khueneral complied, and the tousled head bobbed, as the man turned painfully away

'Why do you keep up this farce?' ruash 'You are so fir can unseat you What if Khaurani fools learn the truth? They can do nothing Proclaim yourself in your true identity! Show them their beloved ex-queen - and cut off her head in the public square!'

'Not yet, good Khuash-'

The arched door slammed on the hard accents of Saloar crouched in the courtyard, and there was none to see that the hands which held the severed head were quivering strongly -brown, sinewy hands, strangely incongruous with the bent body and filthy tatters

'I knew it!' It was a fierce, vibrant whisper, scarcely audible 'She lives! Oh, Krallides, your eon! Oh, Ishtar, if you love true erd Vladislav filled his jeweled goblet with cri and thrust the vessel across the ebony table to Conan the Cierd's apparel would have satisfied the vanity of any Zaporoskan hetman

His khalat was of white silk, with pearls sewn on the bosom Girdled at the waist with a Bakhauriot belt, its skirts were drawn back to reveal his wide silken breeches, tucked into short boots of soft green leather, adorned with gold thread On his head was a green silk turban, wound about a spired helold His only weapon was a broad curved Cherkees knife in an ivory sheath girdled high on his left hip, kozak fashi+on Throwing hierd spread his booted legs before hi wine noisily

To his splendor the huge Ci contrast, with his square-cut blackblue eyes He was clad in black old buckle of the belt which supported his sword in its worn leather scabbard

They were alone in the silk-walled tent, which was hung with gilt-worked tapestries and littered with rich carpets and velvet cushi+ons, the loot of the caravans From outside came a low, incessantof ust of desert wind rattled the palm-leaves

'Today in the shadow, toirdle a trifle and reaching again for the wine-jug 'That's the way of life Once I was a heto you were hanging on a cross outside Khauran Now you're lieutenant to the most powerful raider between Turan and the western'When you allow the elevation of a man, one can be sure that you'll profit by his advance I've ith lanced at the scars on the insides of his palms There were scars, too, on his body, scars that had not been there seven i that you've had anything to do with the recruits who've swaruided byfor a successful leader to follow, and they have ner than in one of their own race

'There's no limit to e may accomplish!+ We have eleven thousand men now In another year we may have three times that number We've contented ourselves, so far, with raids on the Turanian outposts and the city-states to the west With thirty or forty thousand er We'll invade and conquer and establish ourselves as rulers I'll be e as you carry out ly In the meantime, I think we'll ride eastward and storm that Turanian outpost at Vezek, where the caravans pay toll'

Conan shook his head 'I think not'

Olgerd glared, his quick temper irritated

'What do youfor this arh men in this band now forI have a score to ettle'

'Oh!' Olgerd scowled, and gulped wine, then grinned 'Still thinking of that cross, eh? Well, I like a good hater But that can wait'

'You toldKhauran,' said Conan

'Yes, but that was before I began to see the full possibilities of our power,' answered Olgerd 'I was only thinking of the loot in the city I don't want to waste our strength unprofitably Khauran is too strong a nut for us to crack now Maybe in a year-'

'Within the week,' answered Conan, and the kozak stared at the certainty in his voice

'Listen,' said Olgerd, 'even if I illing to throay men on such a hare-brained attempt - what could you expect? Do you think these wolves could besiege and take a city like Khauran?'

'There'll be no siege,' answered the Cimmerian 'I kno to draw Constantius out into the plain'

'And what then?' cried Olgerd with an oath 'In the arrow-play our horsemen would have the worst of it, for the armor of the asshuri is the better, and when it came to sword-strokes their close-h our loose lines and scatter our men like chaff before the wind'

'Not if there were three thousand desperate Hyboriaa horsee such as I could teach them,' answered Conan

'And where would you secure three thousand Hyborians?' asked Olgerd with vast sarcasm 'Will you conjure them out of the air?'

'I have them,' answered the Cimmerian imperturbably 'Three thousandlared like a startled wolf

'Aye Men who had fled fro the lives of outlaws in the deserts east of Khauran, and are gaunt and hard and desperate as ers One of them will be a match for any three squat mercenaries It takes oppression and hardshi+p to stiffen uts and put the fire of hell into their thews They were broken up into small bands; all they needed was a leader They believed the word I sent them by my riders, and assembled at the oasis and put thee?' A feral light began to gleairdle

'It was / they wished to follow, not you'

'And what did you tell these outcasts to gain their allegiance?' There was a dangerous ring in Olgerd's voice