Following Conan, Amalric crossed several roofs, leaping over the chasms between them. At length, they came to a building of good size, almost on the edge of the plaza.
"I must get Lissa out of here!" said Amalric, desperately anxious.
"One thing at a time," growled Conan. "We want to know what is happening."
The confusion in the plaza had somewhat died down. Officers were getting their men into orderly formations once more. On the dais with the two thrones, across the square, stood Askia in his wizard's regalia, speaking. Although Amalric could not hear all his words, the wizard was evidently telling the Tombalkans what a great and wise leader he would be to them.
A sound off to Amalric's left drew the Aquilonian's attention. At first a murmur, like the crowd noises in the square, it swelled to a roar. A man dashed into the square and shouted to Askia:
''The Aphaki attack the east wall!"
Then all was chaos again. The war drums thundered. Askia screamed orders right and left. A regiment of black spearmen began to file out of the square towards the disturbance. Conan said:
"We'd better get out of Tombalku. Whichever side wins, they'll have our hides. Sakumbe was right; these people will never obey a whiteskin. Go to your house and get your girl ready. Rub your faces and arms with soot from the hearth; that way you'll be less conspicuous in the dark. Crab whatever money you have. I'll meet you there with horses. If we hurry, we can get out the west gate before they close it or Zehbeh attacks it. Before I go, though, I have one little task."
Conan stared across the serried ranks of the black warriors at Askia, still shouting and orating on the dais. He hefted the javelin.
''It's a long cast, but I think I can do it," he muttered.
The Cimmerian walked deliberately back to the other side of the roof, then made a short ran forward, towards the side facing the square. Just before he reached the edge of the roof, with a mighty whirl of arms and twist of torso, he hurled the weapon. The missile vanished from Amalric's sight into the darkness above.
For three heartbeats he wondered whither it had gone.
Askia suddenly screamed and staggered about, the long shaft protruding from his chest and lashing back and forth with the wizard's convulsive movements. As the witch-man collapsed on the dais, Conan snarled:
"Let's go!"
Amalric ran, leaping from roof to roof. To the east, the din of battle rose in a medley of war cries, drumbeats, trumpet cal s, screams, and clatter of weapons.
It was not yet midnight when Amalric, Lissa, and Conan reined in their horses on a sandy ridge a mile to the west of Tombalku. They looked back toward the city, now illumined by the lurid glare of a conflagration. Fires had sprung up here and there during the battle, when the Aphaki had swarmed over the eastern wall and fought the black spearmen in the streets. Although the latter were much more numerous, their lack of leaders put them at a disadvantage that all their barbaric valor might not be able to overcome. The Aphaki pressed further and further into the city, while the fires merged into a holocaust From the ridge, the hideous clamor of battle and massacre came as a murmur.
Conan grunted:
"So much for Tombalku! Whoever wins, we shall have to seek our fortunes elsewhere. I'm for the coast of Kush, where I have friends … and also enemies … and where I can pick up a ship for Argos. What of you?"
"I had not thought," said Amalric.
"That's a shapely filly you have there," said Conan with a grin. The light of the rising moon gleamed on his strong white teeth, shining against his soot-blackened skin. "You can't drag her over the whole wide world."
Amalric felt himself bristle at the Cimmerian's tone. He drew closer to Lissa and slid an arm around her waist, meanwhile dropping his free hand toward his sword hilt. Conan's grin broadened.
"Fear not," he said. "I have never been so hard up for women that I've had to steal those of my friends. If you two come with me, you can beat your way back to Aquilonia."
"I cannot return to Aquilonia," said Amalric.
"Why not?"
"My father was slain in a broil with Count Terentius, who is in favor with King Vilerus. So all my father's kin had to flee the land, lest Terentius' agents hunt us down."
"Oh, had you not heard?" said Conan. "Vilerus died within a six-month; his nephew, Numedides, is now king. All the old king's hangers-on, they say, have been dismissed, and the exiles recalled. I got it from a Shemite trader. If I were you, I'd scurry home. The new king should find a worthy post for you. Take your little Lissa along and make her a countess or something. As for me, I'm for Kush and the blue sea."
Amalric glanced back toward the red blaze that had been Tombalku. "Conan," he said, "why did Askia destroy Sakumbe instead of us, with whom he had a more immediate quarrel?"
Conan shrugged his huge shoulders. ''Perhaps he had fingernail parings and the like from Sakumbe but not from us. So he worked what spells he could. I have never understood wizardly minds."
"And why did you take the time to kill Askia?"
Conan stared. "Are you joking, Amalric? Me, leave a slain comrade unavenged? Sakumbe, damn his sweaty black hide, was a friend of mine. Even if he got fat and lazy in his late years, he was a better man than most of the white men I have known." The Cimmerian sighed gustily and shook his head, as a lion shakes his mane. "Well, he's dead, and we're alive. If we want to go on being alive, we had better move on before Zehbeh sends a patrol out to hunt for us. Let's go!"
The three horses plodded down the western slope of the sandy ridge and broke into a brisk trot to westward.