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fighters had escaped the narcotic. She even heard him yell at the chief, 'Ungedu, get the people back inside, close the gate, for Adonis' sake!'
    Jehanan burst into sight. He had been fishing up-stream, and sped the whole way hither afoot. 'No!' Bêlit shouted to the brother she adored. 'Get away!' He did not hear, he plunged to join Hoiakim.
    The remaining hale men of the Suba began to do likewise.
    Bêlit saw an Argossean bowman stand forth from the ranks of his comrades. With ghastly deliberation, he nocked an arrow, drew string, took aim. Did she catch the twang? She did see the arrow smite, and Hoiakim fall. Briefly, he tugged at the shaft in his breast; then he was still.
    Jehanan howled. Maddened, he dashed straight at the Stygians. They surrounded him. Bêlit saw pike butts lift and crash down.
    Dismayed, most Negro fighting men gave way before the onslaught of a disciplined squadron. It reached the stockade ere the gate could be shut. Leaving a few men to hold that position, trapping those within, the marauders spread out in pursuit of the majority who were outside and fleeing.
    'Father,' Bêlit sobbed. 'Jehanan.'
    Aliel shook her. 'We must escape,' her husband said between locked teeth. 'That was the last charge he laid on me.'
    A far part of her remembered that they, the Shemites, ought to be immune by treaty to slavers. But what use were treaties? If they were caught, who would make complaint? 'Kedron,' she gasped.
    Shaaphi came from the house, grandchild in arms. Her own tears laved the infant, but she said levelly, 'Yes, let us be off to the jungle and hide, before we are noticed. Many will take the same way. We can join them here... afterward.'
    In the bosom of Bêlit, love for these three was like soft rain falling into a white-hot cauldron – of hate for the slayers of her father, the captors of her brother, the destroyers of every happiness. She darted back inside, snatched a spear off the wall, and came back to the rest.
    They struck off across the fields. A haroo snapped Bêlit's glance rearward. The heart froze in her. Four raiders had seen her and were in chase.
    Shaaphi stopped. Bêlit did also, as if helpless, while Aliel raged at them to be on. Shaaphi raised her grey head. 'I cannot outrun them, at my age,' she said, 'nor should Hoiakim stand alone before Ishtar.' She gave the wailing infant to Bêlit, who took him numbly. 'Go,' she said. From her girdle she unsheathed her knife. 'Fare always well, my darlings.' The blade flashed. Blood spouted, unbelievably red. She knelt down among the grain-stalks and sang her death prayer in a voice that soon died out.
    'I will do that for you, beloved, if I must,' Aliel vowed to his wife. 'Now come!'
    They fled onward. Young, hardy, they could have distanced their mail-burdened pursuers. But no mortal goes faster than a lead ball from a sling. Abruptly there came a shattering sound, and Aliel went down. The back of his skull was no more. The kindly grain rustled to and fro to hide that sight from Bêlit.
    She held Kedron in her left arm. Her right hand gripped the spear. She ran.
    Anguish exploded in her left thigh. A second ball had struck. She stumbled, recovered, tried to go on, and knew she was lamed. With great care, she dropped her weapon, uncovered a milk-heavy breast, brought her son close and gave him that gift for a moment. Then she laid him on the ground, took the spear again, and gave him freedom.
    Thereafter she waited at bay.
    'I killed one of them, and wounded two more,' Bêlit told Conan. 'A mistake. I should have done as my mother did. They overcame me.'
    He held her to him.
    'No need of relating what happened next,' she went on in a while. She had not wept. 'They did leave me alone on the voyage
    kick to Stygia, and let me heal in flesh if not spirit. After all, I was now valuable merchandise. So were Jehanan and such of our friends as they had caught, but I was kept apart and saw little of them. I heard that no few took sick and died in the