Conan the Marauder Read Free

blue eyes stared into Conan's own. "We are Hyrkanians. We are of the Arpad people, of the noble horde of the Ashkuz. We go to join the great chief, Bartatua, who is gathering all the clans and minor hordes for a campaign such as has not been seen in many generations. Bartatua has sent out orders that all who come are to bring in prisoners from among the inferior peoples. I know not what his purpose is. It is possible mat you might survive what he has in store for his prisoners. You will not survive my displeasure should you keep upon your present course."
    Conan shrugged and spoke as though he were making some great concession. "Very well, I'll go with you. I am a warrior by trade. Perhaps this Bartatua will have better employment for my skills than that of slave labour."
    To his chagrin, the Hyrkanians broke out hi shrill laughter. "You!" said the man he had kicked. "You
    ride like a ten-year-old child. You shoot less expertly than such a child."
    Conan's face burned with humiliation when he remembered how easily these men had ridden him down and captured him. "I could carve the lot of you to dog meat with my sword," he said. "There are other ways of fighting besides shooting from a distance off the back of a horse."
    "We have no use for such ridiculous styles of fighting," the chief said. "We have encountered such things before. The armies of the cities come out against us. They stand in lines or ride in formations and seek to tempt us into coming within reach of their spears and swords. We laugh as we shoot and then go to gather up our arrows from the corpses."
    "If you are so mighty and invincible," Conan mocked, "why have you not taken the world?"
    The man shrugged. "Why do we need the world? We have the limitless steppe and the Everlasting Sky." He and the others made a gesture of reverence, and Conan understood that the man had named their deity.
    "Cities?" he went on. "They are good for sacking. What other use have we for them? We are the only free men beneath the sky. Should we become tax collectors, or spend our days watching farmers trudge behind their bullocks so we can make sure they are not cheating us?" He spat in disgust. "Never! When one is free to hunt and hawk upon the steppe, one would be a fool to covet such a life. We overawe and terrify the princes of the world with our invincible hordes, and we take their tribute as our rightful due. Thus we gain the gold and silks and perfumes that it is our pleasure to use. It is fitting that the contemptible dwellers in cities should toil to produce these things for us, for we are the true
    princes of the earth." The other Hyrkanians shouted their approval of these words.
    "Give me a horse," Conan said, "and in the turning of a moon I will be a horseman better than any of you. Give me one of those bows to practice with, and in the same time I will be a better archer than any Hyrkanian. I have never taken up a fighting skill without excelling at it."
    The chief rose and looked down coolly at Conan. "We have a few days' ride to join Bartatua. You shall have ample time to prove your worth. What is your name, foreigner?"
    "Conan."
    "Know that I am Boria, of the Blue Stag clan of the Arpad tribe. I am a fifty-leader, and I will test you along the way. If there is anything to you besides talk, I will know of it by the time we join the great chief. It may be my pleasure to say to him a few words in your favour. It may be his pleasure to act upon those words."
    "This is foolishness!" said the one called Torgut. "What use can the great Bartatua have for this city-dwelling, swine-eating ape?" He spat, but was careful to stay out of range of Conan's feet.
    "That is not for you to say, Torgut," said Boria. "The ways of a great Kagan are not the concern of a common saddle pounder. Do you wish to dispute my judgement?"
    Torgut raised the back of his hand to his forehead. "I meant no disrespect, commander." He shot Conan a look of close-reined hatred.
    "See that it is so." Boria