Conan the Swordsman by L. Sprague de Camp Lin Carter & Bjorn Nyberg

Author:L. Sprague de Camp, Lin Carter & Bjorn Nyberg
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

VIII

'Our Paths May Cross Someday'

The three defenders stood, panting, at the ruined castle's gate, watching the rout of the Ophirean force.

'Good shot, girl!' cried Conan. Laughing, he added: 'If I you tire of playing queen, you can hire out as an arbalester in any army I command.'

Conan's mood changed and he frowned. 'But I cannot understand this army that appeared from nowhere, chased I away our foes, and vanished in a trice. Have you been working magic?'

Marala smiled serenely. 'Aye, the magic of the Star of Khoraja. The good men who fell here, two hundred years ago, were denied their chance to save their beloved kingdom. They waited till this day, when the Star and I – and you for giving it – released them to do their duty. Now Alarkar and his true men can rest at last.'

'Those horsemen... were they solid flesh and blood or conjured phantoms, ghosts through which a man could pass like smoke?'

The queen raised her delicate hands, palms upward; and as she moved, the great jewel flashed its fire encased in azure ice.

'T know not, and I think none shall ever know. But you are hurt. Let me clean and bind your wounds – and Garus's, too, as best I may.'

She led the two, unarmoured now and limping wearily, clown the slope to the brook that gurgled merrily along the bottom before it disappeared into the distant river. She helped them wash their battle-sore bodies and bound their superficial wounds with strips of cloth torn from the garments of the dead.

Refreshed at last, Conan asked: 'And what of you now, lady? Rigello is dead, but others will scramble to control the king.'

Marala tied the final bandage and stood back, biting her lower lip in thought.

'Mayhap the Star can rally the good men of the kingdom; but Ophir seems to lack good men - at least among the nobles of the realm. All the magnates whom I know are, like Rigello, greedy and unscrupulous. Of course, with the Star of Khoraja...' She broke off, staring at her hand. 'My ring! Where is it? It must have slipped off my finger whilst I dabbled in the chilly water!'

Until sundown the three sought the great jewel within the stream and along its banks; but the Star was not to be found. The rushing waters must have carried it downstream, or playfully buried it in the silver sand. When the search was ended, Marala burst into tears.

'Just when I had recovered it – to lose it again so soon!'

Conan enfolded her in his strong arms to comfort her; saying: 'There, there, lass. I never much liked magic anyway. You cannot trust the stuff.'

'That settles it,' said Marala, when at last her tears ran dry. 'I had but feeble chance in Ophir when I possessed the Star; without it I should have no chance at all. Nor do I think Mitra himself could make a man of Moranthes. I shall go to live in Aquilonia, where I have kin. Let the men of Opt settle their feuds without me.

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