"What are you doing here?" Rayk moved into what starlight the patchy clouds allowed to pa.s.s and looked at his wife.

"My lord husband! How happy I am to see you

Thayla pushed past the openmouthed Blad and embraced her husband, pressing herself tightly against his body and working her fingers against the muscles of his back.

"Thayla . . . ?"

She dropped her hands lower and pressed his hips toward her own, moving suggestively. "My husband, I thought perhaps you had perished!"

"I very nearly did. But-but-how-why . . . ?"

Thayla's mind worked quickly. She pulled back from her embrace, but kept her hands on her husband's shoulders, gazing lovingly-she hoped it appeared so-into his face. She had to spin a believable tale, and in a hurry.

"A band of Tree Folk attacked our home," she said, glancing peripherally at Blad.

The young Pili stood there, openmouthed still.

"They had with them several barbarian warriors, the like of which I have never known." Well, that was partially true. She had never been with anyone like Conan before.

"We fought them off and pursued them."

"You did? Yourself?"

She drew herself upright. "You did not marry a weakling, Rayk."

He nodded. "How true."

"We chased them as far as the Tongue River, and there we saw bodies, fishmen and Pili."

"Yes, yes, we slew them as we crossed the river. Many of our own were lost in the fight."

"I was so concerned that I had to find you," she said. "I feared for your safety, husband."

She watched his face as he a.s.similated her tale. He nodded, and Thayla breathed a small sigh of relief.

"We have had our own troubles," he said. "A monster attacked us, we lost the fishman with the talisman-I think he still had it-and then the fire . . ."

"Where is the rest of your troop?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Who knows? I found myself alone in a boat at the water's edge, then here. I have seen no more of them. What of your own group?"

"Only Blad here remains." She nodded at the young Pili. "He has been most brave in defending me."

Rayk looked at Blad, who had finally managed to close his mouth. "I shall see him rewarded once we return home."

She was safe! Likely as not, Conan was dead, cooked to a crisp in the blazing village. If he had survived the fire somehow, he was out here somewhere. Once they headed back to the desert, they would never see him again.

"Then as soon as the fire dies down, we can go?"

He frowned at her. "No, of course not. We have not recovered the magical talisman. I am sure the fishmen have taken it to the wizard's castle, in the center of the lake. We must go there and see."

"Are you mad? The smoke magician will turn us into jelly! We cannot face that!"

Rayk shook his head, and his face bore that insufferably stubborn look she had grown to hate over the years. "Most of our men have died. We must have the talisman to survive, now more than ever. Do you not recall what you said on the matter?"

"But . . . that was then. It is different now-"

"No," he said, cutting her off. "It is the same. We must find a way to reap some profit from this disastrous venture. Our numbers are too small to survive without help."

Thayla stared at him, aghast. Oh, no! If Conan were out on this weed somewhere, there was still a chance they might meet! And even if they did not, to face the Mist Mage was suicide!

As her mind scrabbled to find a way out of this new danger, Rayk smiled and pulled her against him. "I have missed you greatly," he said. "Come and let us find a comfortable spot to lie down." He handed his spear to Blad. "Stand watch," he ordered. "The queen and I have things to, ah . . . discuss privately."

Thayla felt his hand at the small of her back, urging her away from Blad, who now glared at his king with sudden jealousy and hatred. Rayk did not notice Blad's expression, however, intent as he was on other things.

By all the G.o.ds, were all males so stupid the world over?

Thayla looked over one shoulder at Blad and raised her finger to her lips in a gesture of silence. The young Pili turned away in anger.

How wonderful the world was. One more problem she did not need.

Kleg swam, full of power, through the dark waters, along familiar tunnels through the thick roots of the Sarga.s.so. Light from the moon and stars and even the sun itself never penetrated to this place, but he could see and sense his way quite easily. Uncounted numbers of tiny plants lined the sides of the tunnels, plants glowing with a cold inner fire that produced a pale bluish green light. And even had the plants not done so, a Changed selkie had organs that allowed a kind of vision in almost total darkness. Kleg could not have said how this sense worked, but it gave him an awareness of anything living for nearly the same distance as he could see on land under the stars. The larger the creature, the more aware of it Kleg became.

At the moment Kleg was most glad to have such a sensing mechanism, because he was aware of something following him. Something very large indeed, larger than he in his Changed form was, and not far behind. Fast as he was and traveling at top speed, Kleg could not outswim his pursuer, and that worried him greatly. He had a suspicion as to what the thing was following him. The same beast that he had seen in the village. Whatever its intentions, the selkie was not enthralled with the idea of allowing the thing to catch him.

Kleg knew he could not maintain his current speed for long, that he would tire and have to slow. Whether the thing behind him had to do likewise was another question he did not care to risk his life upon. So-what was he to do? He could continue to swim until exhausted, a thing that would happen long before he reached the safety of the castle. He could turn and fight, and despite his present powerful form, he had few doubts about how that would end. He could try to talk to the monster. Ho, what a choice that was!

So, what was to be done?

The glimmering of a fourth idea began to shine inside the selkie's head. His injured foot had been greatly healed by his Change-small wounds were usually cured completely by the process for some reason-and were he to return to his manlike form, the ankle would hardly trouble him at all.

He could not outswim the beast in the water, but perhaps he could outrun it on the weed? Big as the thing was, it would find the going harder on the Sarga.s.so than would a man, surely. There were places where the weed was as treacherous as a swamp, full of danger, but perhaps Kleg could use that to his advantage. Certainly there were more places to hide than in a narrow tunnel. All in all, being on top of the weed seemed at least marginally safer than swimming under it, at least at the moment.

Yes. There were places where the tunnel sent side branches toward the surface. Kleg would find one of them and use it, and perhaps leave his pursuer behind. Mayhap it was not the best thing to do, but it seemed to be the least dangerous option he had at the moment.

The Prime selkie swam onward, searching for his escape.

Chapter NINETEEN.

Dimma floated about his throne room, angry, but not uncontrollably so. His selkies should have returned by now. They must have met with some difficulties; like as not, that fire on the far sh.o.r.e had something to do with them. He resisted the idea he had formed earlier, to send more of the lake's thralls to search for Kleg and his brethren. The eels and the sirens would keep any intruders from water and weed, and the Kralix would find the Prime selkie, alive or dead. He did not worry over the safety of the s.e.xless monster. It would take a mighty warrior to disable the beast, much less kill it.

So, what was to be done?

Nothing more than he had already initiated. To send forth an army of lake creatures would serve no purpose. Did Kleg survive, he would return, and if he did not live still, the Kralix would find whatever was left and bring it back. Simple enough.

Over the centuries, Dimma had learned patience, though he had done so grudgingly. Once he attained the flesh again permanently, he could indulge himself. Until then the most reasonable course was simply to wait.