Floats. They weren't going to make a raft, they planned to cross the river on these skin bags!

Kleg's moment of panic quickly pa.s.sed. Well, so they had floats; it mattered not. So much the better. His selkies would have less problems with these than with a wooden raft. One pa.s.s, one bite, and the floats would pop like foam bubbles!

Kleg had to see this. It would be a slaughter, truly.

It was but a matter of minutes before a dozen of the floats were fully inflated and made ready. Eight or nine lizards gathered around each float and hustled it to the water's edge. Kleg's antic.i.p.ation grew. Ah, to be in the water and enjoying the feast himself!

But the lizards did not launch the floats as expected. Instead, one of them pa.s.sed along the line of troops, carrying a large earthen pot. The lizards began to dip the tips of their throwing darts into the pot. Some kind of ritual?

Kleg's eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

The short spears came out of the pot with their tips a smoldering red that glistened in the daylight.

Poison!

The lizards started their crossing, and while three or four of them on each float wielded paddles, the other four or five stood with their dart slingers held high, watching the water!

Kleg stared. Upstream, the scout would have given the word to the dozen selkies, who by now would be in the river and moving to attack. The angle of a Changed selkie's jaws would require that they roll onto their backs to bite the floats, exposing their bellies! The floats rode high in the water, so the selkies would be close to the surface when they came for the floats.

Kleg knew he should run, should gain as much time as possible, but he was frozen in place, watching.

The first float into the water began to drift rapidly downstream as it gained a little in the crossing. The lizards began to hurl their poisoned spears, yelling as they did so.

The float deflated suddenly and the lizards screamed as they fell into the water, but Kleg recognized the thrashing forms of three of his dozen selkies in their death throes, spears sticking out of their poison-maddened bodies.

More floats began the crossing. More darts were thrown. Some of the lizards went down as their floats were deflated, but most did not.

Kleg managed to find his feet. At least a third of the lizards would finish the crossing, and all or nearly all of his selkies would sleep with the fishes when it was over.

Kleg had miscalculated. They were only minutes behind him now.

He ran for his life.

Chapter TEN.

Conan awoke feeling somewhat refreshed, to find the boy Hok staring nervously at him. He sought to put the boy at ease.

"Fear not," Conan said. "I have a plan."

Hok's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Aye. When the lizard men come for us, they will open the door and we shall pretend to be docile. Once out, I shall overcome them and thus we shall make good our escape."

The boy stared. His mouth gaped. "That is your plan?"

"Simple, is it not?"

"Simple-minded, more like."

"I am open to other suggestions," Conan said, feeling somewhat irritated at Hok.

"Why do we not turn into birds and fly away? Or maybe squirrels? That is as likely to happen as your plan."

"For such a small boy you seem to be burdened with more than your share of tongue, Hok."

"For such a large man, your wit seems rather small-"

"Shhh. Someone comes."

Hok stilled his voice at the sound of approaching footsteps on the stone floor.

It was the queen, and she was alone.

"I have come to invite you to my chamber, Conan my stalwart."

"Gladly I accept," Conan said. "If you would but open the door."

"Oh, to be sure, I shall open it wide for you," she said.

Conan did not have to fake his smile. This was going to be almost too easy.

The Queen of the Pili raised her right hand, closed into a loose fist. "But first a small guarantee of your cooperation." With that, she opened her hand and flung into Conan's face some kind of powder.

Before he could stop himself, Conan sucked in a quick breath. He sneezed and tried to cough the powder from his lungs, but it was too late. As his consciousness faded, taken from him by the dust the queen had thrown, Conan had time for a final thought:

Perhaps he was going to have a harder time of this than he had thought:.

When next Conan awoke, he found himself lying on silken cushions next to the Queen of Pili. He, like she, was altogether naked. And he was feeling rather tired.

The queen smiled at him. "Ah, my stalwart man arises yet again."

Conan stared at her. His thoughts were muddled. She had drugged him, he recalled. And she must have had him taken to her chambers.

"You have been magnificent," she said, touched his shoulder with her fingertips. "None has ever done better."

"I have done nothing," Conan managed.

"You are too modest. Surely you recall?"

"I recall you flinging a powder into my face."

"And nothing since? Ah, if that was how you behaved when asleep, I cannot help but wonder how much better you shall do when awake!"

Conan shook his head, trying to clear it. What was she talking about?

The queen then rolled toward him, and showed him exactly what she meant.