Part 5 (1/2)
The sun glinted on spired helht silks flashed as three arreat sand dune in the wide desert that formed the southwestern marches of Turan Red turbans ound about their helirdled their waists White silken shi+rts, baggy trousers thrust into short black boots, and sleeveless, silveredat their hips Upright fro from the saddles of two of the one bore, slung from his saddle, a thick, double-curved bow in a bow case and a score and a half of arrows in a lacquered leathern quiver
Accoure, bound by both wrists to a rope held by the bowashes in the sand told of this prisoner's inability to keep up with his ir, though the gare was hollow-cheeked, but implacable hatred lurked in his red-ri up the slope without a sound of pain or protest
The Turanian soldiers, separated fro their way back to Fort Wakla, a Turanian outpost deep in the Zuagir desert country Yesterday they had ir His horse had tuh its heart, and he had been laid senseless on the sand by a blow froun an intense caainst the desert tribes, who had harried Kuranian caravans overly ir prisoner, the horse hied
At the top of the dune, the little troop paused to rest Waterskins were lifted to parched ed prisoner crawled up on all fours, almost done in Sand dunes stretched as far as the eye could see As practiced warriors, the Turanians used the pause to let their hawklike eyes sweep the horizon and the surface of the sands Nothing could be seen save endless, rolling yellow plain
The tallest of the three, the man with the bow and the prisoner's rope, suddenly stiffened Shading his dark eyes, he bent forward to get a better view On the top of a dune a allop The dune had hidden hier was flying down the near side in a flurry of sand The leader turned to his fellows
”By the alabaster hips of Yenagra!” he said, ”we have caught another desert rat! Be ready; ill kill this one and take his head on a lance tip back to the fort”
Knowing there would be no trouble to recover the Zuagir after the fight, he dropped the rope He spurred his mount down the slope towards the point in the wide valley of sand, where he counted on intercepting the stranger, and in one smooth motion drew the powerful bow from its case and nocked an arrow His fellow troopers folloith spears poised and slitted eyes aglea for the kill
At three hundred paces, the bowallop with the effortless horsemanshi+p of a Turanian cavalry his intended victihty effort that aler shook off the folds of his khalat
The Hyrkanians halted in consternation There appeared before them not the half-starved form of a desert man, armed only with knife and javelin, but a powerful western warrior in sturdy er The sword flashed like a flaht as the rider whipped it out The Turanian leader's narrow eyes widened with astonishment
”You dare return to Turan, barbarian scoundrel!” he cried For the Turanian was Hamar Kur, who had been amir of a troop of horse that Conan, as a leader of the kozaki, had routed years before by an ambush on the Yelba River Hauards in consequence and ever since had burned for vengeance
Drawing his saber, he shouted:
”At hi will fill your helold!”
The Turanian riders hesitated, awed by the ends associated with that naalleys, had sacked and burned the fortified seaport of Khawarizalleys that had co and the others' decks aith blood They told how he, with a band of Zuagir tribes Imperial posts in the south until the border had to be drawn back They told how the savage kozak hordes under his co and burning
Conanhis big horse, he thundered upon the in circles Hae and was cast to the ground Its rider was spilled from the saddle
The two other soldiers couched their lances and spurred fiercely, but lacked tie effective With the fury of a thunderstorht and left
The head of one man leaped from its trunk on a fount of blood The next instant, Conan's blade shattered the other's lance The Turanian caught the following blow on his shi+eld but was hurled froained his feet Skilled in coainst horsemen, he ran to where the slain trooper had dropped his lance Then he ran swiftly up and thrust the shaft of the weapon between the legs of Conan's horse He cast himself aside at the last moment to avoid the barbarian's terrible sword
The desert sands clouded the sky as Conan and his ether With the practiced ease of the hardened mercenary, the Cimmerian threw himself clear He rose, sword still in hand With cold blue eyes slitted he watched his two surviving enemies slink towards him, one from either side Their tactics were obvious: to catch him between them &o that one could strike hied the soldier to the right He knew he risked a scimitar in the back from Hamar Kur, but it was never his way to await the foe's attack The Turanian tried to parry the crashi+ng blow, but to no avail Splintering the curled blade with its terrible force, the Cie
Conan wheeled like a panther in the nick of ti blow on his sword hilt There was a ht blade of the West and the curved blade of the East whirled about each other in a coruscating dance of death Then a quick thrust froh the fine Turanian hastly screa blade free
The Cimmerian wiped his sword on his enemy's sash and looked swiftly around He had heard a sound froe He waited warily as a tattered figure half slid and half rolled down the slope als, he spat upon the prostrate for eyes on Conan As he took in the gigantic figure in worn nition and joy Lifting his bound hands, he cried:
”Praise be to Kes to the floors of hell! And reat warlord who led us to plunder long ago! I greet you, Hawk of the Desert! There will be feasting and dancing in the villages! The Turanian dogs will cower in their towers as the cry goes forth from the desert: 'Yaed his broad shoulders and thrust his sword back into the scabbard His horse had risen front its fall, and Conan unslung his waterskin and pack frorunted, ”you look a little the worse for wear Have a draught, but take care you are not overfilled” Conan brought out bread and dried ir ”Now tell me: What is afoot in the desert? How did you fall into the hands of the Hyrkanians?”
The nos: ”I a in haste and alone for our caht me They shot my horse from underand death”
”Whence your hurry?” asked Conan ”And why alone? These hills sith Turanian patrols”
The voice of the Zuagir took on a burning edge as he answered ”A terrible misfortune has struck our tribe Listen, my lord For days we lay in wait in the ruins of the Gharat temple, fifty miles to the south Word had co the wealth and person of the lady Thanara”