Conan shouted to one fool of a warrior ready to dive into the lake to swim to a fugitive canoe. Then he saw Seyganko striding along the shore, waving men back from the water.
Conan brushed sand and gravel off Valeria and let her do the same for him.
"You're bleeding," she said. "I think there are salves somewhere down there."
"I'm better off bleeding, I think. I'm for staying well away from the water until we've asked Emwaya what happened."
"If she knows."
"You saw her face. Her father told her what he was going to do to… to the Living Wind, I'd wager."
Valeria shuddered. Then her sword was in her hand as a warrior with Kwanyi headdress and Ichiribu tattoos rose slowly from the bushes.
"Wobeku!" Conan and Valeria said together.
The traitor kept his hands in plain sight. "Great chiefs, do with me as you please when you have heard me out. I wish to yield the men under me to the mercy of the Ichiribu and their chiefs. I can also name those underchiefs of the Kwanyi who may listen to talk of peace between our tribes."
Conan and Valeria looked at each other. They knew of the clan rivalries among the Kwanyi. If Chabano was dead, as seemed likely, the Ichiribu might use these rivalries to impose a victor's peace.
"Was it you or Aondo who slew the bidui boys?" Valeria asked.
"Aondo."
Somehow to Conan that had the ring of truth.
"This is a matter for Seyganko and Emwaya," he said. "Lie down on your shield so none will put a spear through you until we return. Bid your folk stay out of sight. And pray to the gods that you are telling the truth!"
Wobeku swore several potent oaths with a certain dignity that Conan thought did him some honor, then assumed the pose of submission. "Now we'd best make haste to Seyganko, before someone skewers our would-be peacemaker," the Cimmerian grumbled as he broke into a trot. "And here I thought our work was done!"
"We can't seek out the river until the lake's fit to sail on," Valeria reminded him. "Nor am I one for sitting idle while others work."
"But then—"
She slipped an arm around his waist. "Downriver to the Trading Coast. I've still those fire-stones, and as long as no Golden Serpent comes with them, they may buy us a ship."
"Buy you a ship," Conan said. Her touch was as warming to his blood as ever, but he knew too much about the other sides of her nature. "Two of us on one ship would divide the crew. I'm for turning landsman anyway, until the Barachans have forgotten the name of Conan the Cimmerian."
"They may forget it," Valeria said with a complacent smile. "I will not."
* * *
TOR™
A TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK NEW YORK
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This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
CONAN AND THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN Copyright (c)1993 by Conan Properties, Inc.
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Cover art by Ken Kelly
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ISBN 0-812-51414-9
First edition: May 1993
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