Conan The Freelance by Steve Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

toothed boot. She lost her grip and fell.
    Kleg was at the entrance to the building and he used his blade to slice open the ceremonial knot binding the door closed.
    Inside was a single chest, also bound with a special knot, and his blade made short work of it as well. He opened the chest and in the dim light saw the talisman.
    It was a seed, hard and eye-shaped, the size of a small apple, warm and moist to his touch. He looked at it for a second, then jammed it into his belt pouch and hurried from the chamber. He had lost two selkies and he might lose others when they were attacked from the trees, but it did not matter. He had what he had come for!
    As Kleg was letting down the ladder rope for his descent, he caught sight of a small form darting along a branch. He had been seen.
    Quickly, Kleg climbed and hid behind an outcropping of foliage. After a moment, one of the males, a small one, scooted along the branch just in front of him. Kleg reached out and clouted the boy with the butt of his knife, knocking him senseless. He started to cut the boy’s throat, then stopped. No. He would take the boy along. There might be something to learn from interrogating him; besides, should they encounter the Pili on their return home, the boy might be made to serve other purposes. The Pili, he knew, were more than passing fond of eating human flesh. Perhaps they could buy safe passage with such a tidbit.
    Kleg was very strong compared to a man, and shouldering the boy’s weight and climbing down the vine was not difficult in the least.
    Once on the ground, he hurried to the prearranged meeting place where he would be joined by his troops.
    He had accomplished his ordered task and he was jubilant. It had almost been too easy, but he was not one to tempt fate by dwelling on that thought.

Chapter Five
    Conan followed Tair, winding through the trees toward the sounds of battle. Several times the big Cimmerian almost lost his balance on some of the smaller limbs, but each time managed to recover in time to maintain the chase. Along their route other armed men and women joined the procession. After a final short sprint, they arrived at the tree edging the far end. of the grove.
    The members of the besieged tree had dropped dozens of flaming balls of pitch, so that the scene below them was easily viewed. Conan saw perhaps a dozen shadowy shapes darting about, and their behavior seemed more than passing strange. They made much noise, the attackers, screaming and slinging stones and hurling spears upward, ‘out there seemed to be much ado about little. At first, those below looked to be men, but as Conan drew nearer, he was able to detect an inhuman aspect to their shape and movements. They were the right size and general shape, they had faces and hands and yelled in manlike tones, but they were somehow alien. Selkies, Tair had called them.
    Tair slid to a stop on a broad limb and leaned forward, his spear held high and ready to cast. But he held the throw, hesitating.
    Conan came to stand next to him. The air was heavy with the sharp stench of the sputtering pitch below. He looked at Tair.
    “What are they doing?” Tair said. “Have they gone mad?”
    Indeed, Conan thought. Those in the trees were in no danger from those capering below. In fact, several of the selkies lay sprawled on the ground, outlined in flickering yellow from the burning resin globs lying about, Tree Folk spears sprouting like stiff weeds from their corpses. “A diversion?” Conan offered.
    “Aye.” Tair nodded. “But-from what are they diverting us?”
    “Perhaps we should capture one and ask it.”
    “A good idea, Conan.”
    Tair moved to a coil of climbing vine and kicked it over the edge of the branch. He moved down the rope even before it completely stretched out, and Conan had never seen a man climb with such speed; a spider could have done it no better on his own line of webbing.
    Conan immediately followed Tair down the cable of plaited vine.
    If the