The canoe rocked and spun about. She clawed for her dagger, in the half-mad notion that Aondo was seeking to avenge his defeat by murder in plain sight of all his tribe.

Then a large, sword-calloused hand gripped her wrist and pulled her around. Conan stood beside her canoe, up to his chest in the water.

With his free hand, he plucked the paddle from her grip and tossed it into the bottom of the canoe. She saw it float.

Then she saw the cloud-flecked blue sky as the Cimmerian lifted her out of the craft and carried her in his arms toward the sh.o.r.e. She felt the cool water of the lake soothing her feet and arms, and found the breath for a long sigh.

They reached the sh.o.r.e. The servant girl Mokossa ran forward with a gourd of water. Valeria sipped, fearing that her throat and stomach would never be the same again. The water stayed down, however, and she drank thirstily.

By then, she could even stand, with Conan's help. She leaned comfortably against him as the Ichiribu began shouting her name again.

In the middle of the shouting, she heard a familiar growl in her ear.

"You didn't have to go to such lengths to have me carry you ash.o.r.e!

Some women haven't the sense the G.o.ds gave a fly!"

It was too much effort to even think of gelding him, and as for biting or kicking him-there was a victor's dignity to think of.

Thoughts of that dignity also kept Valeria from falling senseless, as pleasant as the idea seemed. Instead, she held out her hand for another gourd, and this time emptied it over herself.

Wobeku entered Aondo's hut with care, hands in front of him and his weapons left at the door. Aondo was not easy-tempered at the best of times, and these were anything but that.

A slave girl leaped up and ran into the corner of the hut at the sight of Wobeku. She made the sign against the evil eye as she did so.

Casually, Aondo sat up and reached for the girl. She squealed in unfeigned terror as his ma.s.sive hand closed on her ankle. She did not dare fight, however, as Aondo drew her to him and across his lap.

"Wobeku does not have the evil eye. Repeat that ten times."

"Wobeku-u-u-u does n-n-not-aiyeee!"

Aondo's hand had come down hard on the girl's bottom. She squealed again and tried to wiggle free.

Wobeku cast his eyes up at the smoke-reeking shadows at the roof of the hut. It was no concern of his how Aondo treated his women. However, he did not have much time, even if the last rounds of the duel between Aondo and Conan the Tribeless had been put off until tomorrow.

The girl was rubbing her bottom with one hand and her eyes with the other when Aondo was done with her. She crawled into the farthest corner of the hut and cowered there. Wobeku wasted no sympathy on her.

Had she seen any of several women who had seriously displeased the huge warrior, she would have called herself fortunate.

"She must go," Wobeku said.

"Who are you-" Aondo snarled. Then he frowned. "Only outside?"

"Yes. Did you think I was fool enough to come between you and one of your women?"

"You do not know as much as you do by being that big a fool, I must say." Aondo turned to the girl. "Go! I will send Wobeku to bring you back."

The girl did not seem much pleased at this prospect, but obeyed. Wobeku himself was hardly pleased at being called on to carry messages for this overgrown boy, whom the G.o.ds had given two men's strength and half a man's wits. Like the wench, though, he would obey, but out of hope rather than from fear.

"Aondo," he said when the two warriors were alone, "you were shamed today."

"You dare-"

"I dare repeat what all will say before tomorrow's sunset."

"Who cares what they say before sunset? After the next sunrise, no one will say anything against me. They will be too busy burning the witch-man Conan."

"You are confident."

"I am Aondo."

"Being Aondo did not make you faster than the woman Valeria."

"I know ways to slow any woman."

That much was truth. Aondo knew how to slow a woman so that she never moved again, save when her kin bore her to the burning ground.

"I know how to slow any man. Above all, the man who will dance on the drum with you tomorrow night."

"I need no such help."

"Who said anything of help? You are Aondo, who can win without help.

What I offer is friendship."

"You, a friend to any man? I will tell all the Ichiribu that you have promised friendship. Then they will laugh until they choke."

Wobeku grew hot, and his hands became fists. He dared show no more anger before Aondo. He was indeed a man alone more often than not, and few would even think of avenging him should Aondo slay him here.

"If friendship is a word that rings false in your ear, call it a trading of favor for favor."

"I do not give up Valeria."

"Who said anything of asking mighty Aondo to give up his chosen vengeance?" Wobeku a.s.sumed a look of vast innocence. "She will not be harmed, I swear it. But without harming her, I can make your victory even more sure than it is already."

"Suppose you did this favor?" Aondo asked. "What do I do for you?"

Wobeku wanted to dance in triumph. The trident had sunk deep. Now to heave on the line and haul in this lionfish!

"There are many among the Ichiribu who will talk to you, but not to me."

Wobeku did not add that many of those did not talk as much to Aondo as in his presence, thinking the hulking warrior too foolish to remember what they merely said. There was truth in that thought, but not so much that Aondo would be useless as a fresh pair of eyes and ears.

"This is so."

"It is also true that sometimes I need to know about matters that people will not speak of before me. I will tell you when such matters arise. You will watch and listen, and tell me what you see and hear."

"Who else learns what I tell you?"

"The G.o.ds alone."

"Not Dobanpu?"