Conan the Marauder by John Maddox Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

the watch-keeper, giving the citizenry notice that the gates would dose in one hour. The wizard had an important appointment upon that hour, and he began to prepare himself. He donned his finest robe and his best collar of gold and jewels. He combed out his forked beard and wrapped his tall skullcap in a turban of jewelled silk. He was a man of considerable height, lean and well formed. His features were those of the Turanian aristocracy, and he could move with confidence in any civilized court.
    The servant appeared at his ring. "Have my sedan chair waiting at the garden gate in one half hour," he commanded. The servant bowed and left to do his bidding. Khondemir would take with him none of his sorcerous paraphernalia. The fathers of the city knew well his powers, and he had no need to impress them. As his chair was carried through the bustling streets, the mage admired the surrounding beauty. Sogaria was indeed a splendid city. Its public buildings were towers of white marble, and the homes of the wealthy were only slightly less magnificent. Few were truly poor in the city, which was founded on the rich caravan trade rather than upon the estates of the nobles.
    From the balconies and the flat rooftops a profusion of hanging plants swayed in the wind, for like all dwellers in arid regions, the Sogarians loved gardens. Flowers grew in profusion everywhere, and rich hangings were aired in the sunlight daily, adding to the brilliant colours of the city. The streets were paved with cut stone, and fountains played at most of the street corners. The palace of the prince, Amyr Jelair, stood upon a low hill surrounded by gardens raucous with the cries of exotic birds brought from far lands. The brilliance of their plumage outshone even the spectacular, ever-blooming flowers. Khondemir took deep pleasure in the splendour of the place, and in the knowledge that one day soon he would possess many such palaces.
    The bearers set the sedan chair down in a courtyard in which fountains of coloured and perfumed water splashed. An officer of the palace bowed deeply and conducted the wizard into a great audience chamber, where a number of distinguished men of the city sat on cushions around the periphery. Tall windows freely admitted air and light, and the floor was a splendid mosaic that formed a map upon which the caravan cities were depicted in precious stones and the features of the surrounding lands were identified in lettering of obsidian. Khondemir seated himself upon a cushion and held his silence while the others conversed in low tones. Some of them he knew to be magistrates and officials, others were soldiers. There were several present whom he did not recognize, but that did not surprise him. He had been in the city for but a short time and his circle of acquaintance was not wide.
    All bowed to the floor when Amyr Jelair entered. He was a portly man of middle years who wore a harried look. He acknowledged their salutes and seated himself on a low couch.
    "I have summoned you here," Jelair said without preamble, "because the emergency we have long anticipated may soon be upon us. I wish all of you to hear the words of the great mage, Khondemir, who has come from Turan to aid us in this time of peril."
    At Jelair's nod, Khondemir stood. "My prince, distinguished nobles, most of you know me. Since I was cast out of my native land by the usurper, King Yezdigerd, you have taken me in and made me one of you. I have come to regard Sogaria as my home, and this danger to my adoptive city strikes me as deeply as it does you." A courtier by training as well as a necromancer, Khondemir knew well the value of honeyed words.
    "When first your prince suspected that the Hyrkanian barbarians had designs against Sogaria, he summoned me hither that I might put my sorcerous powers at your disposal, and I have wielded them unstintingly in his service." The audience applauded politely, tapping their fly whisks upon the floor. "My supernatural agents have