Conan at the Demon's Gate by Roland Green

Author:Roland Green
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Conan (Fictitious character), Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780812524918
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 1996-08-01T17:07:00.412000+00:00

northerner, she might learn more of him and his band of warriors. Such a band might prove useful if theyneeded to earn their way home and had the prowess to earn it in defense of Lysenius and Scyra.Scyra's arts of concealment were like her knife-fighting, sufficient for many purposes. They weresufficient to hide her until the Bamulas, called back from the hunt by their leader, gave up the search forthe Pictish archer. She was ready to weep in frustration when she saw the slope empty.She had not meant to be out of the cave this long, and besides, she had given her cloak to Vuona,now marching off with her people. Scyra saw no alternative to following their trail. Let them go, and theymight as well be on the moon for all her chances of finding them again without either the Picts or herfather knowing. She had to be first here to know what the Bamulas were about, or she would be going tothe marketplace with an empty purse.She took bow and arrows from the body of the Pict, and searched the other dead tribesmen untilshe found one who also wore a cloak. It was of Bossonian work, stiff with dirt and grease, reeking fromlong wearing by Picts who never bathed unless they were caught in the rain, and probably the prize ofsome bloody-handed border raid.Still, she wrapped it around herself. It was just barely large enough; her Bossonian blood made heras tall as the common run of Pictish men. But the wool was warm, and from a distance, it might deceivethe hasty eye.There was no food to be found, save the bodies of the dead Picts—and even in jest, the idea madeScyra gag. But some of the edible ferns were green, there were fish in the streams, and the Bamulascould hardly travel too far their first night in this land, no matter how the northerner led (or drove) them.With those hopes lightening her step, Scyra set off on the trail of the Bamulas.***It was agreed on the march that one of the three chiefs would always be on watch. Conan,Govindue, and Kubwande drew twigs for who would begin the night, and Govindue drew the shortesttwig. Not that there was much to see in this nighted forest, either of friend or foe. A cloak from a deadPict kept out some of the wind, but even the gentlest breeze in this land seemed to pierce like an arrow.Govindue had never been so cold, not even during his manhood ordeal, which had sent him into thejungle during a particularly severe autumn season of rains.It was as well that Idosso was dead. He would never have been an honest follower to Conan, theyoung chief decided. Kubwande might be, if only out of fear of starvation, Picts, and Amra's fist.More surely still, Idosso would never have had Amra's knowledge of how to live in this land. Live,fight, even win free of it. He had not been so stupid that he would not have learned, but before he learned(or Kubwande taught him), many might have died.

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