Conan the Marauder Read Online Free PDF

super-horde against which nothing could stand. Arrogantly Kuchlug laughed and cursed the younger man as an upstart. Condescendingly he said that he himself would assume leadership of such a horde and that Bartatua could take the position of sub-commander, after Kuchlug had given the best commands to his sons and nephews. In a rage, Bartatua stormed from the tent.
    Lakhme found out where Bartatua would take his horses to water in the morning and was there when he arrived. The Hyrkanians bathed only in sweat lodges and had a taboo against polluting running water. Vendhyans had no such rule, and when Bartatua reached the stream, he was thunderstruck to see Lakhme knee-deep in the water, dressed only in her streaming black hair. Feigning surprise and embarrassment, she managed to gasp out her name and to whom she belonged.
    That night the dispute between Kuchlug and Bartatua broke into violence. As a gesture of goodwill, Bartatua had arrived unarmed. In the midst of a roaring tirade, Kuchlug seized a sword from the tent wall and pursued the younger man outside, where Bartatua turned at bay.
    The men of Bartatua were greatly outnumbered by Kuchlug's, but no Hyrkanian would interfere in a mortal combat between chiefs. After letting Kuchlug slash at him long enough to convince all witnesses that the older man was in no way incapacitated, Bartatua wrested the sword from him and broke his neck bare-handed.
    All could see that the fight had been fair, and a council of Kuchlug's sub-chiefs agreed to the overlord-ship of Bartatua. Kuchlug's closest kinsmen fled while they still had their lives. Most important, Lakhme had the man she had dreamed of. He was ruthless and boundlessly ambitious. Best of all, he was intelligent enough to listen to good advice, even from his concubine. Within a year she was guiding him in nearly every aspect of his plan of conquest. And she had lied to Khondemir about Bartatua's feelings toward her. The chieftain of the Ashkuz loved her beyond all reason.
     
     

    III
     
    The little band led by Boria rode into the huge camp on the afternoon of the fifth day following Conan's capture. The Cimmerian was tightly bound, but at least he was riding instead of running. His arms were bound close to his sides and his ankles were tied together beneath his horse's belly. Torgut wanted him slain, but Boria refused to kill a valuable slave and Torgut was still in too much pain to wreak any harm by himself.
    With his arm in a sling and his sides lashed with sticks and thongs to keep his broken ribs in place, Torgut looked poisonously at Conan. "This is where your soft treatment stops, ape," he hissed, wincing at the pain the words drew from his flanks.
    Conan surveyed the camp. It stretched along a small stream for many leagues and was roughly divided into upstream and downstream halves. Upstream were the odd, humped tents of the Hyrkanians. Downstream were huge pens of horses and other livestock. He noted that the sheep and cattle were few, only enough to feed the camp. The real herds would be in summer pasture, tended by the women and boys. This was a war camp. As they rode in, they passed men shooting at incredibly distant targets. Some shot dismounted, but most shot from horseback. The most skilful shot at a full gallop, and some actually shot backward over the horse's rump while riding away from the target. Conan began to have second thoughts about his boast that he could master Hyrkanian archery within a month.
    The Cimmerian knew little about the dress and accoutrements of the Hyrkanian tribes, but he could see that many diverse peoples were gathered within the camp. Tribesmen whose clothing was predominantly Khitan, Vendhyan, Turanian or Iranistani obviously rode the borders of those nations. These nomads could make little for themselves, and only the thickly padded clothing of leather, felt and furs that they wore in winter was of native make. Woven cloth, most of the metal-work, even the bows and saddles, were