The Sword of Skelos Read Online Free Page B

the Cimmerian said. He shrugged. “The health of the satrap of Zamboula is of no more concern to me than Iranistan’s trade arrangements. Or—who owns a particular amulet. An eye!” He shook his head. “Is Erlik missing an eye, then?”
    Khassek nodded. “Now let us suppose that you have it, or know where it might be found. If both of us returned to Iranistan with it, both of us would be rewarded. Do you have another thought in mind?”
    “Iranistan is so far,” Conan said, continuing to tease—and to think.
    “That is true. I have not journeyed so far to return without the amulet, and I won’t. What holds you here? I know that in Arenjun you are… still sought.”
    “Ride so far with a man who paid two others to have me clubbed and captured, only to talk with me? Surely you meant to torture me to learn of this Eye, if necessary. An
Eye
!”
    “I’ll not deny it. How could I know you might be a reasonable man? I thought you had killed Ajhindar.”
    “And now you do not?”
    “I have the feeling that you have told me the truth—about that,” the Iranistani added significantly.
    Conan chuckled. “I have. And so once you were sure that I knew nothing of this thing you seek, you would have slain me.”
    “That I deny. Once I learned where you had hidden the Eye of Erlik, I’d have taken it and departed posthaste for Iranistan. I’d have seen no need to murder you—unless forced, of course. Such is not our way, Conan, or my way. Come with me now and I still feel the same. My only concern is putting that amulet into the hands of my employer.”
    Though he did indeed have the amulet, for which he had gone to a great, great deal of trouble, Conan reflected now that there was surely still that which he did not know about it. Would a man call his ruler “my employer,” for instance?
    “The amulet is more important to my ruler than my life, Conan,” Khassek said, speaking directly to Conan’s eyes. “If I knew you were taking it to him, I’d be happy. If I know you will not, I must fight you.”
    “Best I slay you here and now, then.”
    “Killing me now would be very unwise. Four men of the City Watch just entered the inn. Departing this place might be wise.”
    Only the men of the Watch of Arenjun had reason to want him, Conan mused—dead or alive. Up here in Shadizar… well, better he had never left the comparative safety of The Desert, which was Shadizar’s equivalent of Arenjun’s Maul. He said, “Why?” with a perfectly open face. “You are the foreigner. I need have no fear of the local Watch-men.”
    “A Royal Dragoner is with them, and they are looking for someone.”
    “Certainly I have no quarrel with the King of Zamora!”
    “Umm. Unless he has had a complaint from Arenjun. I had heard that down there you wounded two and disgraced another,
uptown
—a certain former Watch-sergeant. I am glad that you have no fear of any friends he might have in Shadizar, or of Arenjun’s governor making complaint to the king, because the five are coming over here now.”
    “One was killed, too, in Arenjun,” Conan said. “I did the wounding—it was Ajhindar who accounted for the dead one.”
    “One of these has a crossbow. Hm… Conan… it may be true that I am the foreigner and you of course, nine feet tall and with your blue eyes, are a native of Zamora… but the crossbow quarrel is aimed at you.”
    “Damn.”
    Khassek stared. “You—that’s just the way Ajhindar said it!”
    “I know. What else is there to be said? I came in here all swaggery and smug, to brace you. I forgot an important Zamoran saying: “When thou wouldst enter, think first how thou wilt find a way out again.” A rule I must remember to hold to is ‘Never sit with your back to the door’! What’s all that scuffling?”
    “Most of the other patrons are departing with haste. Here they come, king’s men first. By the way, in Iranistan the sages say ‘Wherever thou wouldst enter, ascertain if there is another