“Perhaps.”
Epilogue
From an alabaster balcony of the vast marble palace that had once been Taramis’, Conan watched the sun rise from the far horizon. It was the second time he had watched a sunrise from that same spot. A day and a night to rest and think, to reach decisions. He had made his decisions, then given a few commands, and showed a handbreadth of steel when those commands were questioned.
“My Lord Conan,” said a servant behind him, “the Princess Jehnna b-begs your presence.” The woman blushed, flustered at stammering, flustered because a Zamoran noblewoman never begged. Most especially not a princess.
“I am not a lord,” Conan said, then quickly added, “Take me to the Princess Jehnna,” before she could become flustered further.
The tapestry-hung chamber to which he was led was meant for informal audiences, with a dais only one step high and an unadorned, high-backed chair of polished ebony for a throne. Jehnna looked well on it, he thought, in her robes of white silk. The others were much recovered from their ordeals as well, Malak surreptitiously fingering a golden bowl, Akiro looking impatient with a bundle of tightly rolled scrolls under his arm, Zula leaning on her staff near Jehnna’s throne as if she were a bodyguard.
“Conan,” Jehnna said brightly as he entered, “it has come. King Tiridates has invested me as Princess Royal of Zamora and confirmed me in Taramis’ estates.”
“I congratulate you,” he said, and she frowned at him doubtfully.
The frown cleared quickly though, and she said, “I have asked you all to come to me this morning because I have a favor to ask of each of you. You, first, Malak.” The small man jerked his hand from the bowl as if burned. “I ask you to remain here with me, Malak,” she went on, “living in my palace. Thus I will always be reminded that a man can be a fool, yet be brave and good.”
“Even my mother never called me good,” Malak said slowly. His eyes drifted to the bowl. “But I will stay in your palace. For a time.”
“Best to put a guard on him, then,” Akiro said drily, and grinned at the offended glare he got from Malak.
“You, also, Akiro,” Jehnna said, “must stay with me. You are a man of great wisdom, and I will need wise counsel in the days, the years, to come.”
“Impossible,” the wizard replied. “You have given me the Scrolls of Skelos, and some bush-shamans on the Kothian border are carrying on vile practices that I have vowed to end.”
“I can put soldiers at your disposal to deal with the shamans,” Jehnna told him, then added slyly, “And Taramis gathered several rooms full of magical volumes and instruments which you would be free to study for as long as you remained here.”
“Soldiers,” Akiro mused. “I suppose soldiers could deal with such hedge-shamans as those. Ah, how many rooms full, exactly?”
“Many,” Jehnna laughed. “Zula, you must stay, as well. You have showed me that a woman need not be confined by others’ boundaries, but there is much yet to teach. The staff, for instance.”
The black woman sighed regretfully. “I cannot. I owe a life to Conan, and I must follow him until I can re—”
“No!” Conan said sharply. “The debt cannot be repaid in that way.”
“But—”
“It cannot, Zula. It has come to me that some debts cannot be repaid directly the one owed. Find another life to save, and I will be repaid by that.”
Zula nodded slowly before turning back to Jehnna. “I will stay, Jehnna, and gladly.”
“Conan,” Jehnna said, and hurried on when he opened his mouth. “Listen to me, Conan. Stay with me. Sit beside me.”
“I cannot,” Conan said gently.
“But why not? By all the gods, I want you, and I need you.”
“I live by my wits and my sword. Would you have me become a lapdog? ’Tis all I could be, here. I am not made for palaces and silks.”
“Then I will go with you,” she said, and stiffened when he laughed.
“The Turanians have a saying, Jehnna. The eagle does not run in the hills, the leopard does not fly in the sky. You would take to my life as ill as I would take to yours. Never a day but I must fight for my life or ride for it. That is the road I travel, and you cannot come with me.”
“But, Conan—”
“Fare you well, Jehnna, and all the gods grant you happiness.”
He turned his back on her then, and walked from the room. He thought he heard her call after him, but he would not look back or listen. As he had commanded, his horse waited, saddled, before the palace.
The sun was almost to its zenith by the time he reached the rough stone altar on the plains. The wind had swept dirt and sand against it, and he thought Malak might have some difficulty finding exactly where Amphrates’ jewels were buried, but otherwise nothing had changed.
Slipping the dragon amulet from about his neck, he laid it on the altar. From his pouch he took the vial Akiro had given him. So long ago, it seemed. Some debts could not be repaid to the one to whom they were owed.
“Fare you well, Valeria,” he said softly. And, scraping the seal from the vial, he drank.
Heat rushed along his limbs, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his horse dancing from an involuntary jerk on the reins. When he opened them again, the heat was gone. He found shards of a vial crushed in his fist, and wondered how they had come there. A glint of gold in the sun caught his eye. A pendant, he saw, in the shape of a dragon, resting atop a strange pile of stones. He bent from the saddle, but before his fingers touched the gold, he stopped. There was something, something he did not understand, that told him he should not take it. Sorcery, he decided.
Well, there was gold aplenty in Shadizar that was not sorcerous, and willing wenches to sit on his knee and help spend all he stole. With a laugh, he kicked his horse into a gallop for the city. Never once was he tempted to look back.
THE CONAN CHRONICLES 1
Robert Jordan
Before Robert Jordan conquered the bestseller lists with his phenomenally successful Wheel of Time series, he revived the legendary fantasy hero Conan the Cimmerian. These widely acclaimed adventures introduced the world-famous barbarian to a new generation of readers.
This volume contains three tales, Conan the Invincible, Conan the Defender and Conan the Unconquered, all of which feature the storytelling magic and epic splendour that have made Robert Jordan one of the best-loved fantasy authors of all time.
THE WHEEL OF TIME®
Robert Jordan
The Wheel of Time® turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. In the Third Age, an Age of Prophecy, the World and Time themselves hang in the balance. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the shadow.
THE WHEEL OF TIME® SERIES
The Eye of the World
The Great Hunt
The Dragon Reborn
The Shadow Rising
The Fires of Heaven
Lord of Chaos
A Crown of Swords
The Path of Daggers
Winter’s Heart
Crossroads of Twilight
Knife of Dreams
The Gathering Storm (by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson)
New Spring
All available from Orbit
“Solid as a steel blade, and glowing with true magic”
Fred Saberhagen
The World of Robert Jordan’s
THE WHEEL OF TIME®
Robert Jordan and Teresa Patterson
Since the publication in 1990 of The Eye of the World, Book One of The Wheel of Time ®, these magnificent volumes have transported readers to a world so strikingly real, so rich in detail and complexity, it seems to rise from memory rather than the printed page. This indispensable companion to The Wheel of Time® is for everyone interested in the history and background of this incredible series.
Including:
More than seven
ty full-colour paintings of maps, landscapes, characters and objects of Power
A comprehensive guide to the history, geography and nations
Never-before-told legends
Previously unknown peoples and lands
Potents of what may come to pass
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THE DRAGONBONE CHAIR
MEMORY, SORROW AND THORN
Book One
Tad Williams
A thrilling, heartstopping quest that blends the machinations of a king gone mad with the politics of empire, breathtaking suspense with the pity of war, a brilliantly conceived world of ancient days with the joys—and terrors—of magic …
“Reminiscent of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings… an epic fantasy you can get lost in for days, not just hours” LOCUS
Also available from Orbit in the Memory, Sorrow and Thorn series
STONE OF FAREWELL
TO GREEN ANGEL TOWER: SIEGE
TO GREEN ANGEL TOWER: STORM
RUNNING WITH THE DEMON
Terry Brooks
Terry Brooks turned fantasy fiction on its head with The Sword of Shannara. Now, in Running with the Demon, he’s done it again.
On the hottest Fourth of July weekend in decades, two men have come to Hopewell, site of a long and bitter steel strike. One is a demon, a dark servant of the Void, who will use the anger and frustration of the community to achieve a terrible secret goal. The other is John Ross, a Knight of the Word, a man who, while he sleeps, lives in the hell the world will become if he fails to change its course on waking. Ross has been given the ability to see the future. But does he have the power to change it?
At stake is the soul of a fourteen-year-old girl mysteriously linked to both men. And the lives of the people of Hopewell. This Fourth of July, while friends and families picnic in Sinnissippi Park and fireworks explode in celebration of freedom and independence, the fate of Humanity will be decided …
Running with the Demon is an exquisite tale that weaves together family drama, fading innocence, cataclysm and enlightenment. It will change for ever the way you think about fantasy.
Also available from Orbit:
A KNIGHT OF THE WORD
ANGEL FIRE EAST
A CAVERN OF BLACK ICE
Book One of Sword of Shadows
J. V. Jones
The majestic first book in a major new fantasy series by the bestselling author of The Book of Words trilogy.
When Raif and Drey Sevrance return home to their clan as the only survivors of a vicious attack in which both their father and the clan chief were killed, everything changes for Raif. Uneasy with the new chief’s reign of brutality and his brother’s acceptance of it, Raif welcomes his Uncle Angus Lok’s invitation to accompany him to Spire Vanis.
Asarhia March—Ash for short—is the beautiful ward of Penthero Iss, Overlord of Spire Vanis. Suspicious of Penthero’s increasing interest in her developing body, when Ash overhears him planning to imprison her she flees, only to be cornered at the city gate by a band of the Overlord’s elite guards. But as they close in on her, Angus Lok—observed by a bemused Raif—plunges into the midst of the guards and snatches her to safety.
For Angus knows that as this girl grows to womanhood she will develop powers which could destroy herself and the world if she doesn’t learn to control them. And only Raif can protect her on her journey to understanding.
“A triumph … J. V. Jones writes with a kind of hellish possession and a concept so clear it crackles from each page”
SFX on The Barbed Coil
Conan Chronicles 2 Page 58
