Hordo started forward angrily, but Karela put a hand on his arm. He stopped, but his glare promised reckonings another time. Karela faced the gathering calmly, hand on hip and sword point planted firmly on the ground.
“Not hurt too badly, eh, Aberius?” she said with a sudden smile. The weasel-faced man seemed taken aback. He had a scratch down his cheek, and a piece of rag about his left arm. “And you, Talbor,” she went on before anyone could speak. “Not as hard a night’s work as you’ve had. Remember when we took that slaver’s caravan from Zamboula, only they’d doubled the guard for fear of those quarry slaves they had bound for Ketha? I mind carrying you away from that across my saddle, with an arrow through you, and—”
“That’s of no matter now,” Aberius snapped. Hordo lurched forward, snarling, but Karela stopped him with a gesture. Aberius seemed to relax at that, and his smile became more satisfied. “No matter at all, now,” he repeated smugly.
“Then what is of matter?” she asked.
Aberius blinked. “Has the Red Hawk suddenly lost her vision?” A few of the men behind him laughed; the others looked grim. “More than a third of our number dead, and not a coin in anyone’s purse to see for it. We were going to steal some pendants from a few pilgrims. Now we’ve followed them all the way into these accursed mountains, and might follow to Vendhya with naught to show for it. Hillmen. Soldiers. Now, demons. It’s time to go back to the plains, back to what we know.”
“I decide when to turn back!” Karela’s voice was suddenly a whip, lashing them. “I took you from the mud, robbing wayfarers for a few coppers, and made you feared by every caravan that leaves Shadizar, or Zamboula, or Aghrapur itself! I found you scavengers, and made you men! I put gold in your purses, and the swagger in your walks that make men step wide of you and women wriggle close! I am the Red Hawk, and I say we go on, and take this treasure that was stolen from a king!”
“You’ve led us long,” Aberius said. “Karela.” The familiarity of the name brought a gasp from the red-haired woman, and a growl from Hordo. Suddenly she seemed only a woman. A naked woman. Aberius licked his lips. Lecherous lights appeared in the eyes of the men behind him.
Karela took a step back. Conan could read every emotion that fled across her face. Rage. Shame. Frustration. And finally the determination to sell her life dearly. She took a firmer grip on her tulwar. Hordo had unobtrusively slipped his blade from its sheath.
If he had half a brain, Conan told himself, he would slip away now. After all, he owed her nothing. There was the oath not to save her, too. Before the brigands knew what was happening, he could be gone into the night, with one of the prisoners to guide him to the pendants. And Velita. With a sigh, he stepped forward.
“I do not break my oath,” he said softly, for
Karela’s ears alone. “It’s my own life I’m saving.” He walked down to confront Aberius and the rest with a friendly smile, though the casual-seeming way his hand rested on his sword hilt was deceptive.
“Do not think to join us, Conan,” Aberius said. There was considerable satisfaction in his smile. “You stand with them.”
“I thought we all stood together,” the Cimmerian replied. “You do remember the reason we came, don’t you? Treasure? A king’s treasure?”
The narrow-faced bandit spat, barely missing Conan’s boot. “That’s well out of our reach, now. I’ll never find that trail again.”
Conan let his smile broaden. “There’s no need. These creatures you’ve killed tonight wear boots with the same markings as those who stole the pendants and the rest from Tiridates’ palace. You can rest assured they serve the same master.”
“Demons,” Aberius said incredulously. “The man wants us to fight demons for this treasure.” A mutter of agreement rose from the others, but Conan spoke quickly on his heels.
“What demons? I see creatures with the skins of snakes, but no demons.” Protests broke out; Conan did not allow them to form. “Whatever they look like, you killed them tonight.” He caught each man’s eye in turn. “You killed them. With steel, and courage. Do demons die from steel? And you’ve bound two of them. Did they mutter spells and make you disappear? Did they fly away when you put ropes on them?” He looked sideways at Aberius, and grinned widely. “Did they breathe flame at you?”
Laughter rippled through the brigands, and Aberius colored. “It matters not! It matters not, I tell you! I still cannot find the trail, and I’ve not heard a word from these monsters that any can understand.”
“I said there’s no need to find the trail again,” Conan said. “At dawn we’ll contrive to let these two escape. You can track them easily enough.”
“They’re both wounded,” Aberius protested desperately. “Like as not, neither will last an hour.”
“It’s still a chance.” Conan let his voice swell. “A chance for a king’s treasure in gold and jewels. Who’s for gold? Who’s for the Red Hawk?” He risked unsheathing his sword and raising it overhead. “Gold! The Red Hawk!”
In an instant every man save Aberius was waving his weapon in the air. “Gold!” they bellowed. “Gold!” “The Red Hawk!” “Gold!”
Aberius twisted his thin mouth sourly. “Gold!” he shouted, pushing his spear aloft. “The Red Hawk!” His beady eyes glared murder at Conan.
“Good, then!” Conan shouted over their cries. “Off with you, to rest and drink! Till dawn!”
“Dawn!” they roared. “Gold!”
Conan waited until they were well on their way back to the fires, then returned to Karela. She stared at him as if stricken. He put out a hand to touch her, but she jerked her arm away and stalked toward her tent without a word. Conan stared after her in consternation.
“I said once you had a facile tongue,” Hordo said, sheathing his sword. “You’ve more than that, Conan of Cimmeria. Belikes you’ll be a general, someday. Mayhap even a king. If you live to get out of these mountains. If any of us do.”
“What’s the matter with her?” Conan demanded. “I told her I did this for me, not her. I did not break the oath she demanded.”
“She thinks you try to supplant her,” Hordo replied slowly. “As chief of the band.”
“That’s foolish!”