daughter of the King of Ophir,' she said. 'My father sold me toa Shemite chief, because I would not marry a prince of Koth.'
The Cimmerian grunted in surprize.
Her lips twisted in a bitter smile. 'Aye, civilized men sell theirchildren as slaves to savages, sometimes. They call your race barbaric,Conan of Cimmeria.'
'We do not sell our children,' he growled, his chin jutting truculently.
'Well--I was sold. But the desert man did not misuse me. He wished tobuy the good will of Shah Amurath, and I was among the gifts he broughtto Akif of the purple gardens. Then--' She shuddered and hid her face inher hands.
'I should be lost to all shame,' she said presently. 'Yet each memorystings me like a slaver's whip. I abode in Shah Amurath's palace, untilsome weeks agone he rode out with his hosts to do battle with a band ofinvaders who were ravaging the borders of Turan. Yesterday he returnedin triumph, and a great fete was made to honor him. In the drunkennessand rejoicing, I found an opportunity to steal out of the city on astolen horse. I had thought to escape--but he followed, and about middaycame up with me. I outran his vassals, but him I could not escape. Thenyou came.'
'I was lying hid in the reeds,' grunted the barbarian. 'I was one ofthose dissolute rogues, the Free Companions, who burned and looted alongthe borders. There were five thousand of us, from a score of races andtribes. We had been serving as mercenaries for a rebel prince in easternKoth, most of us, and when he made peace with his cursed sovereign, wewere out of employment; so we took to plundering the outlying dominionsof Koth, Zamora and Turan impartially. A week ago Shah Amurath trappedus near the banks of Ilbars with fifteen thousand men. Mitra! The skieswere black with vultures. When the lines broke, after a whole day offighting, some tried to break through to the north, some to the west. Idoubt if any escaped. The steppes were covered with horsemen riding downthe fugitives. I broke for the east, and finally reached the edge of themarshes that border this part of Vilayet.
'I've been hiding in the morasses ever since. Only the day beforeyesterday the riders ceased beating up the reed-brakes, searching forjust such fugitives as I. I've squirmed and burrowed and hidden like asnake, feasting on musk-rats I caught and ate raw, for lack of fire tocook them. This dawn I found this boat hidden among the reeds. I hadn'tintended going out on the sea until night, but after I killed ShahAmurath, I knew his mailed dogs would be close at hand.'
'And what now?'
'We shall doubtless be pursued. If they fail to see the marks left bythe boat, which I covered as well as I could, they'll guess anyway thatwe took to sea, after they fail to find us among the marshes. But wehave a start, and I'm going to haul at these oars until we reach a safeplace.'
'Where shall we find that?' she asked hopelessly. 'Vilayet is anHyrkanian pond.'
'Some folk don't think so,' grinned Conan grimly; 'notably the slavesthat have escaped from galleys and become pirates.'
'But what are your plans?'
'The southwestern shore is held by the Hyrkanians for hundreds of miles.We still have a long way to go before we pass beyond their northernboundaries. I intend to go northward until I think we have passed them.Then we'll turn westward, and try to land on the shore bordered by theuninhabited steppes.'
'Suppose we meet pirates, or a storm?' she asked. 'And we shall starveon the steppes.'
'Well,' he reminded her, 'I didn't ask you to come with me.'
'I am sorry.' She bowed her shapely dark head. 'Pirates, storms,starvation--they are all kinder than the people of Turan.'
'Aye.' His dark face grew somber. 'I haven't done with them yet. Be atease, girl. Storms are rare on Vilayet at this time of year. If we makethe steppes, we shall not starve. I was reared in a naked land. It wasthose cursed marshes, with their stench and stinging flies, that nighunmanned me. I am at home in the high lands. As for pirates--' Hegrinned enigmatically, and bent to the oars.
The sun sank like a dull-glowing copper ball into a lake of fire. Theblue of the sea merged with the blue of the sky, and both turned to softdark velvet, clustered with stars and the mirrors of stars. Oliviareclined in the bows of the gently rocking boat, in a state dreamy andunreal. She experienced an illusion that she was floating in midair,stars beneath her as well as above. Her silent companion was etchedvaguely against the softer darkness. There was no break or falter in therhythm of his oars; he might have been a fantasmal oarsman, rowing heracross the dark lake of Death. But the edge of her fear was dulled, and,lulled by the monotony of motion, she passed into a quiet slumber.
Dawn was in her eyes when she awakened, aware of a ravenous hunger. Itwas a change in the motion of the boat that had roused her; Conan wasresting on his oars, gazing beyond her. She realized that he had rowedall night without pause, and marvelled at his iron endurance. Shetwisted about to follow his stare, and saw a green wall of trees andshrubbery rising from the water's edge and sweeping away in a widecurve, enclosing a small bay whose waters lay still as blue glass.
'This is one of the many islands that dot this inland sea,' said Conan.'They are supposed to be uninhabited. I've heard the Hyrkanians seldomvisit them. Besides, they generally hug the shores in their galleys, andwe have come a long way. Before sunset we were out of sight of themainland.'
With a few strokes he brought the boat in to shore and made the painterfast to the arching root of a tree which rose from the water's edge.Stepping ashore, he reached out a hand to help Olivia. She took it,wincing slightly at the bloodstains upon it, feeling a hint of thedynamic strength that lurked in the barbarian's thews.
A dreamy quiet lay over the woods that bordered the blue bay. Thensomewhere, far back among the trees, a bird lifted its morning song. Abreeze whispered through the leaves, and set them to murmuring. Oliviafound herself listening intently for something, she knew not what. Whatmight be lurking amid those nameless woodlands?
As she peered timidly into the shadows between the trees, somethingswept into the sunlight with a swift whirl of wings: a great parrotwhich dropped on to a leafy branch and swayed there, a gleaming imageof jade and crimson. It turned its crested head sidewise and regardedthe invaders with glittering eyes of jet.
'Crom!' muttered the Cimmerian. 'Here is the grandfather of all parrots.He must be a thousand years old! Look at the evil wisdom of his eyes.What mysteries do you guard, Wise Devil?'
Abruptly the bird spread its flaming wings and, soaring from its perch,cried out harshly: '_Yagkoolan yok tha, xuthalla!_' and with a wildscreech of horribly human laughter, rushed away through the trees tovanish in the opalescent shadows.
Olivia stared after it, feeling the cold hand of nameless forebodingtouch her supple spine.
'What did it say?' she whispered.
'Human words, I'll swear,' answered Conan; 'but in what tongue I can'tsay.'
'Nor I,' returned the girl. 'Yet it must have learned them from humanlips. Human, or--' she gazed into the leafy fastness and shudderedslightly, without knowing why.
'Crom, I'm hungry!' grunted the Cimmerian. 'I could eat a whole buffalo.We'll look for fruit; but first I'm going to cleanse myself of thisdried mud and blood. Hiding in marshes is foul business.'
So saying, he laid aside his sword, and wading out shoulder-deep intothe blue water, went about his ablutions. When he emerged, his clean-cutbronze limbs shone, his streaming black mane was no longer matted. Hisblue eyes, though they smoldered with unquenchable fire, were no longermurky or bloodshot. But the tigerish suppleness of limb and thedangerous aspect of feature were not altered.
Strapping on his sword once more, he motioned the girl to follow him,and they left the shore, passing under the leafy arches of the greatbranches. Underfoot lay a short green sward which cushioned their tread.Between the trunks of the trees they caught glimpses of faery-likevistas.
Presently Conan grunted in pleasure at the sight of golden and russetglobes hanging in clusters among the leaves. Indicating that the girlshould seat herself on a fallen tree, he filled her lap with the exoticdelicacies, and then himself fell to with
unconcealed gusto.
'Ishtar!' said he, between mouthfuls. 'Since Ilbars I have lived onrats, and roots I dug out of the stinking mud. This is sweet to thepalate, though not very filling. Still, it will serve if we eat enough.'
Olivia was too busy to reply. The sharp edge of the Cimmerian's hungerblunted, he began to gaze at his fair companion with more interest thanpreviously, noting the lustrous clusters of her dark hair, thepeach-bloom tints of her dainty skin, and the rounded contours of herlithe figure which the scanty silk tunic displayed to full advantage.
Finishing her meal, the object of his scrutiny looked up, and meetinghis burning, slit-eyed