"Ah, my stalwart man is awake at last," came a voice.

Conan turned. It was her, the woman. No, not a woman, a Pili, though for purposes of looks, there seemed little difference, save for the lack of hair and the blue tint to her skin. She wore a red wrap he had last seen bunched at her feet.

More torches had been set aflame, so that the interior of the cave was quite bright, and when the Pili woman saw Conan look at her, she moved her hands slightly and the wrap gaped wide down her front, revealing again the bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s and other delights he had noticed before.

"I see you find me somewhat attractive," she said.

Indeed, Conan thought, she cold not help but notice that. He shifted his position slightly.

The Pili woman laughed. When she moved closer, Conan could see that her eyes were catlike, the pupils narrow and diamond-shaped. And her face was not ugly, though he spent little time looking at that portion of her, since her slow walk caused other parts of her to move in a much more interesting manner than her face.

Though the squarish pattern of the cage's bars would allow Conan to reach through them, the Pili woman stopped well out of his grasp. "I am Thayla, Queen of the Pili," she said. "Welcome to our caves."

"You always keep your guests in cages?"

"Usually. But fear not, you shall be released soon. How may I address you, my stalwart man?"

"I am Conan, of Cimmeria."

"Are all the men of your Cimmeria so . . . large?" She waved at him, and for a moment, Conan thought there was more to her comment than it seemed. He must be mistaken.

"Nay."

"Then I must consider myself especially blessed to be able to take you in," she said. "Why have you come here?"

"To fetch the boy." He nodded at Hok. "The selkies stole him."

"Ah. Well, perhaps some bargain might be arranged."

"I have nothing of value save my sword," Conan said.

She smiled. "Indeed. It seems a mighty weapon."

Conan looked at where his sword lay, on the floor behind the queen, but she was looking at him.

What, he wondered, did the queen wish of him? He knew that the Pili ate his kind, but the hunger in her eyes seemed to him of a different kind than one l.u.s.ting for food.

The waterway that had been little more than a meandering stream when the selkies crossed it outbound now raged past, a churning brown river of mud and foam, carrying sticks and other detritus along at a heady speed. Even Changed, the selkies would be hard-pressed to maintain their position against such a current. The timing on this would be tricky, Kleg realized.

The leader of the selkies dispatched a scout to watch for the arrival of the lizard men. He would have his troops wait until the last moment before entering the turbulent waters for their attack.

Kleg himself waded into the river, feeling the powerful tug of the current at his legs. He dropped the water's embrace, shifted his form as quickly as he could, and swam across to the opposite bank. It was a difficult task, as powerful as he was. When he attained the far sh.o.r.e, he had been carried hundreds of spans downriver.

After resuming his upright form, Kleg walked back to the river's narrowest width, the place the lizards would logically make their crossing. Being -land dwellers arid poor swimmers, the pursuers would likely attempt to build some kind of ferry. A line strung across the river by some bravo would be followed by a thicker rope, and a raft constructed to be worked along the rope. There were plenty of trees about, but even so, the raft would take several hours to build, at least, and that in itself should buy Kleg enough time to be safely away and far ahead of the lizards. When the raft was overturned and at least some of the lizards turned into carrion, it would take more time to catch the raft or perhaps even to build another. Kleg figured he could count on at least half a day gained thusly, perhaps more.

The Prime selkie grinned. He waved at his troops, motioning for them to move upriver, to allow for the current. They would hide there in the thick brush and wait for the lizards; once the raft was constructed, they would slip into the water and attack. It was a good plan, Kleg felt.

Being the author of such a tactic pleased Kleg, and he felt it only right that he stay and watch it put into practice. An hour more would make little difference, since he would gain a dozen times that; what survivors remained would never catch him with that kind of lead, a.s.suming they even bothered to continue.

So Kleg found a comfortable spot and awaited the upcoming slaughter with a certain amount of gleeful antic.i.p.ation.

The queen left Conan in the cage, alone with Hok.

"They are going to eat us!" Hok said.

"Perhaps not," Conan said. "The queen has indicated that some accommodation might be reached."

"She lies. She said I would go free if I told her what the fishmen wanted at our grove. I said, but she only laughed at me when I asked her to open the cage."

Conan nodded. So, the queen was not to be trusted. Good to know.

"We aren't eaten yet, boy," he said. "We shall see what happens." He brushed several small rocks to one side, clearing a s.p.a.ce on the floor, then stretched out flat.

"What are you doing?" Hok asked. .

"Going to sleep."

"How can you sleep? We must find a way out!"

"The way out is through the door, boy. When they come and open it, then we shall have a way out. In the meanwhile, I am tired, so I shall sleep."

"But-but-but-"

"Awaken me if they begin to eat us."

With that, Conan closed his eyes and drifted into slumber, albeit a light one. The boy was fretful and rightfully so, but there was nothing to be done at the moment and Conan might need his strength later. He felt certain that the Queen of the Pili was not quite ready to make soup of him just yet. She had something else in mind.

Three chambermaids scurried around in her sleeping quarters, cleaning the queen's room.

"Fresh pillows!" Thayla ordered. "Make them thick ones. And burn incense, the pungent black kind. Hurry!"

As Thayla watched her maids rush to freshen her chamber, she felt an excited flutter in her belly. Such a giant of a man would doubtless furnish her with much pleasure! She could hardly wait. She might keep him for days before her husband returned. They could have the boy for the festival, but this large man would not be consumed until she had worn him to exhaustion. However long it took.

She much looked forward to the task.

Things were not going according to Kleg's plan.

First, the lizard men had not bothered to send a line across the river with a swimmer. Well, all right, that was no great problem. If they built enough rafts to carry all their troops, or didn't mind following the raft downstream to return it for another crossing, so much the better. That would take even more time.

But instead of starting to fell, trees, the lizards had begun to unpack things from several large containers they carried. Tents, perhaps? Were they planning on being here long enough to require a camp?

From his hidden vantage point across the wide river, Kleg smiled. Even better. He was practically home free-

Wait. What were they doing now?

A dozen of the lizards scurried about, each carrying what looked like bellows. What . . . ?

As Kleg watched, the lizards began pumping air into the tents-no, not tents, but some kind of large skin bags. These were sewn in such a way that they inflated easily, forming oblong if somewhat squashed-looking eggs ....