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Conan the Freelance Part 12

Conan the Freelance - BestLightNovel.com

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There he was. He rounded a turning as she watched, unaware of her.

She shook her head. She could smell that musky odor men had, could plainly see that impossibly broad and muscular body, could hear the shuffle of leather sandals on the stone floor. No, this was no dream, he was real! The largest one of his kind she had ever seen, wide shoulders and thick arms and legs and long, dark fur upon his head.

Thayla felt herself quivering. What was he doing here?

She began to follow him. It did not matter what he was doing here, she decided. The G.o.ds had smiled upon her and granted her wish. Even if this were a dream, she meant to enjoy it to the fullest.

Conan felt a chill, and he stopped and looked around carefully. No one was apparent. Thus far, he had pa.s.sed chambers in which sleeping Pili had lain, but he had not found Hok.



He moved deeper into the mound, searching.

Thayla went into a sleeping chamber and roused one of the young Pili males who had more muscle than brains.

"My queen!"

"Silence. Come with me."

The male obeyed.

Around a series of turnings Conan went. The entrance to a large chamber beckoned. He entered.

There against one wall stood a cage, and in it was the sleeping form of the boy Hok.

Conan moved toward the cage. Finally.

The door to the cage was bolted shut with a complex series of levers that could not be reached from within, but which Conan could work easily enough from without. He moved toward the throw lever. Best not to wake the boy yet, he decided, lest he cry out in surprise.

"Stand there," Thayla ordered the young male. "Here, take this." She handed him a long, wrist-thick pole normally used to knock nesting bats from the ceiling.

Then the Queen of the Pili moved to stand in the entrance to the jail chamber.

"Ho, man," she said.

At the sound of a soft voice, Conan spun and drew his sword.

Standing in the dim corridor's light was a woman. She was bald and wearing some flimsy wrap. Even as he watched, she shrugged the covering off. The wrap formed a pool around her feet and she stood there naked.

Conan stared. Bald she might be, but she did not lack any of the usual curves of a woman. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were heavy and full, her hips wide and promising, her arms outstretched as if in invitation. She might be a Pili, but she was no less comely for that. Conan had seen few women who had more to offer than did this one.

The woman-no, the Pili-smiled at him.

"Come," she said. "I have something for you." She ran one hand down her hip, then back up to touch her breast.

Well, he was not so foolish as to dally with a woman in the midst of an enemy camp, but he had best ensure her silence. Conan moved quickly to catch the woman as she turned and began to walk out of his sight.

She was only two spans distant when he entered the corridor, moving directly away from him, and he was taken with the lush shape of her back and b.u.t.tocks and legs

And then the world suddenly flashed red with pain and dwindled to black around him.

NINE.

The selkies were nearly ready to leave when the rear guard came 'running into the camp. "Prime! The lizard men come!"

Kleg grabbed the panting selkie by the shoulders. "What foolishness is this?"

The selkie managed to catch his breath. "An army of them, Prime, thousands!"

"Idiot! The Pili do not number in the thousands!"

"Hundreds, then."

"Somebody put a spear. through this babbling fool."

"Dozens, Prime, I swear on my birth egg!"

"Show me."

A quick ascent of one of the nearby hills and Kleg stood next to the scout looking into the distance.

Well, by the b.a.l.l.s of He Who Creates, the scout was right. There had to be at least seven or eight dozen of the lizard men, along with those toothed reptiles they used as hunting beasts, marching directly along the trail the selkies had traveled a day earlier. What were they up to, these Pili? This was certainly a war party, and there were no settlements between the Pili and the village of Karatas on the lip of the Home Lake. True, the lizard men could be going to try and sack Karatas, but that was unlikely, the village being surrounded on three sides by a tall and well-defended palisade, with the Sarga.s.so at its back. No, these lizard men likely had something else in mind, and Kleg had a premonition that he knew what it was: his own party. Such a thing did not bode well for the much smaller group of selkies. But why? They had nothing the lizard men could possibly want, nothing of value ....

Kleg slapped his head with the heel of his hand in sudden realization: the talisman! And how had they found out about it? Why, Kleg, Prime servant of He Who Creates, supposedly the most clever of the selkies, had practically told them-he had given them that blasted man child, who had no doubt talked before he was consumed. The boy, had seen Kleg take the d.a.m.ned thing. Blast!

Kleg turned and scurried down the hill, the scout behind him. The lizard men were no faster on land than were the selkies. They were at least an hour behind, and if they left immediately, Kleg and his troop could maintain that lead all the way to the Sarga.s.so. Once there, the denizens of the weed would halt any pursuit; any that managed to straggle through would face the wrath of He Who Creates, an unpleasant prospect at best and certainly a fatal one.

If, however, the lizard men should somehow gain an hour, the odds were too. long in their favor. And Kleg had to return home with the talisman.

He decided what needed to be done. He called his troop to gather around him. There were only a dozen left after the diversion at, the trees, but they should prove sufficient if correctly utilized.

"We are pursued by the lizard men," Kleg said. "They outnumber us perhaps eight to one. We cannot fail in our mission, so I shall go ahead and leave you to slow them."

This produced a not unexpected reaction from the selkies, a grumbling response common to every soldier who had ever lived.

"But wait," Kleg said. "There is a river half a day ahead of us, one no doubt made much deeper by the storms of yesterday. We will journey there, and you shall all Change and wait for them in the water."

The group brightened somewhat at this order. Selkies had certain basic skills on land, but in the water, no lizard man would be a match for one. Dispatching half a dozen or more each ought not to be a problem, they would be thinking, and Kleg sweetened the order by saying, "Once you have slaughtered the lizards, you may return home, and I am certain I can convince He Who Creates to reward each of you with at least two new wives and access to the best feeding grounds."

A ragged cheer went up from the selkies. The way to a selkie's heart was through his stomach, and if that entry was not enough, well, the other route would usually suffice. Both together could not be denied. Food and females, Kleg thought, it worked every time.

"Come let us depart and make ready for our enemies."

Conan awoke, swimming up through murky depths to find that he did not recall where he was or how he had come to be there; more, his head hurt exceedingly. Had he drank too much wine?

The Cimmerian sat up, and saw that he was in a cage. Next to him was the boy Hok.

Ah. Now he remembered. There had been a beautiful bald woman, naked, beckoning him. That was the last thing he recalled before the sky fell on him.

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Conan the Freelance Part 12 summary

You're reading Conan the Freelance. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Robert Jordan. Already has 526 views.

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