a bird dropping stain. As he smeared the substance aside
a glyph was visible, the writhing shape of a crowned
serpent, clearly the sign of the barbarians deceased arch foe
Thoth Amon. Conan's black eyes flared with hatred and he spat upon the symbol.
"That son of a jackal! He must have left this
the necks of what weak-blooded minions yet serve that
waiting. Do you have any idea of the interest rate
" Bêlit died dangling from a yard-arm, you avaricious harlot!"
spirit or flesh. So it is the underworld we go
to the stable. The mighty Cimmerian's steed swiftly carried him
down the road heading east. With the wind in his
upon the Aquilonian steppes.
Far behind him, Red Sonja urged
and filled with peril. Soon, Conan's keen barbarian senses told
that they were indeed being followed by three different groups
converged from the south. The western riders' serpent-bedecked robes
black as a stygian whores heart, fluttered in the wind. Conan
knew the others as the thieves of Gormegond the worm.
They had come to collect the bounty, Gorm had placed
on the barbarian.
"Who else knows of this map?" Conan asked
herself, drew her sword, but failed to grasp it tightly
as they galloped headlong toward the accursed acolytes of Thoth-Amon.
Sonja's sword slipped and cleaved her top off. Conan whirled
about his saddle, a plan forming behind his eyes. Sonja
dismounted to retrieve her sword when the ground beneath her
thundered with the hooves of Conan's charging foes. Her trap
mind full of lustful depravities, Conan struck like a panther
wine bottle shaken and uncorked rather quickly. Sonja was getting
blade from her and seize her lissome body.
Conan's mount,
began to placidly graze upon the grass of the field.
Settities. Suddenly Conan's mount started choking on poisonus hydris weeds.
wasteland. With the battle over, Conan mounted Sonja's horse and
reined it about, facing the quailing thieves of Gormegond. Their
had replaced their unnatural lust for the now-defunct horse.