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.Again Conan's roar savedone from folly as the man struck at the beast's nose with his club.Thewarrior rejoined his comrades without his club or spear, but with a wholeskin.Then the band put another thirty paces between itself and the GoldenSerpent, while Emwaya not only waved both arms, but chanted loudenough to drown out the sound of the creature's hissing.The two spearsremained in the wounds longer than before, and the gush of blood thatpushed them out also flowed longer.Victory could be theirs, Conan realized, for all that this was a battle thatonly a madman could have dreamed.Victory might be the last man of theband standing beside the dead serpent, but they would have it!Then the hissing raised echoes again, Emwaya called a sharp warning,and the deadly dance began once more.FIFTEENThe canoes were not the lightest or the swiftest among those of theIchiribu, although their canoe-builders were honored among all the tribesaround the Lake of Death for their skill.Nor were the paddlers thestrongest and most skilled.Seyganko had simply ordered the first score of paddlers into the firstthree canoes, and all of them had set out under Dobanpu's guidance.Before long, Seyganko thought he might have done better to have waited,picked the best paddlers and canoes, and then made swifter progress.Ifthey were slow in reaching their destination, Emwaya might die.Dobanpuhad made that plain.A little while later, however, Seyganko saw that the canoes were flyingacross the water as if the paddlers were tireless gods who never missed astroke.He looked back to the Spirit-Speaker, sitting in the stern of theircanoe, and saw a faint smile on the man's face.Seyganko felt shame that his mistake had been recognized, but alsopride that Dobanpu considered him worthy of help in undoing it.Or wasit entirely Emwaya's safety that moved her father?The paddles indeed flew back and forth so swiftly that as withwell-thrown spears, the eye could hardly follow them.Nor did the warriorsseem to sweat or grow short of breath.Seyganko remembered uneasilythat such spells as doubled a man's strength could also weaken him forsome time afterward.These warriors would have to fight as well as paddlebefore another day's sun had set.Meanwhile, they were crossing the Lake of Death at a speed neverbefore known, save to birds.At a shout from Dobanpu, Seyganko raisedhis paddle, and the men of his canoe ceased their efforts.The other twocanoes drew up alongside and also drifted to a stop.Then, before Seyganko could speak or even move, Dobanpu stood up inthe stern of the canoe, gripped the amulet about his neck tightly, andflung himself overboard.He cut the water without a sound, not even thefaint clooop of a diving fisherbird.For a moment, they saw his legsthrusting him down into the depths; then those depths swallowed him.A clamor arose from those warriors who had breath left with which tospeak."Why, the old fool!""Where is he going?""He'll drown!""No, the lionfish will have him first!""He can't swim!"Seyganko shouted for silence."My woman's father can swim, that iscertain.There are no hungry fish in this part of the lake, because of thevery thing he has gone to fight.As for the rest— I would not call anySpirit-Speaker a fool.Not when I thought he might come back andremember what I said."And if you still think otherwise, keep your tongue between your teeth.Or have you forgotten who may be listening over there?" Seyganko pointedat the Kwanyi shore.Those who had not already fallen silent did so now.The Golden Serpent had taken the lives of two more warriors beforeConan's band mastered the art of fighting it.That made ten dead or hurtpast fighting, and the rest were growing uneasy.Facing a foe who couldnot be gravely hurt, and—it seemed—not be killed, for all that Emwayapromised otherwise, was nothing to hearten a warrior.Yet the warriors lost none of their speed or cunning.They darted aboutthe serpent like flies about a horse's head, stinging with the sameremorseless persistence.Some even sang war songs between lunges at theserpent, until Conan commanded them to save their breath.This disciplined courage pleased Conan, although it did not altogethersurprise him.He had known for years that the Black Kingdoms raisedwarriors fit to stand in battle anywhere in the world.He had not expectedto find so many this far inland, but he rejoiced that he had.Perhaps therewould be more than one man left standing when the Golden Serpentbreathed its last.A cry rose as Emwaya stumbled on the glassy floor.But Valeria wasstanding over her, sword in one hand, a borrowed spear poised to throw inthe other.Five more warriors were in front of Emwaya before Conan wasable to count them.The young woman herself shook her head andclenched her teeth, but her hair had saved her skull, and her handscontinued their movements, fighting the Golden Serpent's unnatural life.She was on her feet in the next moment, and Conan saw that theserpent had not lunged for her or her defenders.Was it learning thedangers of well-wielded iron, or was its strength finally ebbing?Conan knew the perils of believing that a foe was weak or foolish.Yet hefound it hard to believe that anything short of Thunder Mountain itselfcould resist the battering his band had given the Golden Serpent.Suddenly thunder crashed once more through the tunnel.Conan sworethat he saw the Golden Serpent rise a handbreadth from the floor.Heknew that he saw shields snatched from warriors' arms and cracks appearin the ceiling.Then fragments of stone rattled down everywhere aboutthem, and a dripping-wet Dobanpu stood before them—on the far side ofthe Golden Serpent [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]