Yasmina Devi the of her abduction. The and her; she had only a of a of happenings—the of a arm, the of her abductor, and his on her flesh. The through the window to the parapet, the across and when the of her, the of a rope to a merlon—he almost at a run, his over his shoulder—all this was a in the Devi's mind. She a more memory of him into the of the trees, her like a child, and into the of a Bhalkhana which and snorted. Then there was a of flying, and the were of fire from the road as the up the slopes.
As the girl's mind cleared, her were and shame. She was appalled. The of the south of the Himelians were little of divine; and she was the Devi of Vendhya! Fright was in wrath. She out and struggling. She, Yasmina, to be on the saddle-bow of a hill chief, like a common of the market-place! He his against her writhings, and for the time in her life she the of physical strength. His arms like iron about her limbs. He at her and hugely. His teeth in the starlight. The on the stallion's mane, and every and of the great as he along the boulder-strewn trail. But Conan sat easily, almost carelessly, in the saddle, like a centaur.
'You hill-bred dog!' she panted, with the impact of shame, anger, and the of helplessness. 'You dare—you dare! Your life shall pay for this! Where are you taking me?'
'To the villages of Afghulistan,' he answered, a over his shoulder.
Behind them, the they had traversed, were on the of the fortress, and he a of light that meant the great gate had been opened. And he laughed, a deep-throated as the hill wind.
'The has sent his after us,' he laughed. 'By Crom, we will lead him a chase! What do you think, Devi—will they pay seven for a Kshatriya princess?'
'They will send an army to you and your of devils,' she promised him with conviction.
He laughed and her to a more position in his arms. But she took this as a fresh outrage, and her struggle, until she saw that her were only him. Besides, her light garments, on the wind, were being by her struggles. She that a was the part of dignity, and into a quiescence.
She her anger being by as they entered the mouth of the Pass, like a black well mouth in the that rose like to their way. It was as if a knife had cut the Zhaibar out of of solid rock. On either hand up for thousands of feet, and the mouth of the Pass was dark as hate. Even Conan not see with any accuracy, but he the road, by night. And that men were through the after him, he did not check the stallion's speed. The great was not yet fatigue. He along the road that the bed, up a slope, along a low where on either hand for the unwary, and came upon a that the of the left-hand wall.
Not Conan spy, in that darkness, an set by Zhaibar tribesmen. As they past the black mouth of a that opened into the Pass, a through the air and home the stallion's shoulder. The great let out his life in a and stumbled, going in mid-stride. But Conan had the and of the javelin, and he with spring-steel quickness.
As the he clear, the girl to her from boulders. He on his like a cat, her into a of rock, and toward the darkness, his knife.
Yasmina, by the of events, not sure just what had happened, saw a shape out of the darkness, on the rock, on the wind of his haste. She the of steel, the of stroke, and counter-stroke, and the of as Conan's long knife the other's skull.
Conan back, in the of the rocks. Out in the night men were moving and a voice roared: 'What, you dogs! Do you flinch? In, you, and take them!'
Conan started, into the and his voice.
'Yar Afzal! Is it you?'
There a imprecation, and the voice called warily.
'Conan? Is it you, Conan?'
'Aye!' the Cimmerian laughed. 'Come forth, you old war-dog. I've one of your men.'
There was movement among the rocks, a light dimly, and then a appeared and came toward him, and as it approached, a out of the darkness. The man who it it high, forward, and his to among the it lighted; the other hand a great tulwar. Conan forward, his knife, and the other a greeting.
'Aye, it is Conan! Come out of your rocks, dogs! It is Conan!'
Others pressed into the circle of light—wild, ragged, men, with like wolves, and long in their fists. They did not see Yasmina, for she was by Conan's body. But from her covert, she for the time that night. These men were more like than beings.
'What are you in the Zhaibar by night, Yar Afzal?' Conan of the chief, who like a ghoul.
'Who what might come up the Pass after dark? We Wazulis are night-hawks. But what of you, Conan?'
'I have a prisoner,' answered the Cimmerian. And moving he the girl. Reaching a long arm into the he her forth.
Her was gone. She at the ring of that her in, and was for the arm that her possessively. The was close to her, and there was a of about the ring.
'She is my captive,' Conan warned, at the of the man he had slain, just visible the ring of light. 'I was taking her to Afghulistan, but now you have my horse, and the Kshatriyas are close me.'
'Come with us to my village,' Yar Afzal. 'We have in the gorge. They can us in the darkness. They are close you, you say?'
'So close that I now the of their on the flint,' answered Conan grimly.
Instantly there was movement; the was out and the melted like into the darkness. Conan up the Devi in his arms, and she did not resist. The ground her in their soft and she very small and in that brutish, among those colossal, crags.
Feeling her in the wind that the defiles, Conan a from its owner's and it about her. He also a in her ear, ordering her to make no sound. She did not the of on that the keen-eared hill-men; but she was too to disobey, in any event.
She see nothing but a above, but she by the when they entered the mouth. There was a about them, the movement of horses. A words, and Conan the of the man he had killed, the girl up in of him. Like for the of their hoofs, the away up the gorge. Behind them on the they left the and the man, which were less than an hour later by the from the fortress, who the man as a Wazuli and their own accordingly.
Yasmina, in her captor's arms, in of herself. The motion of the horse, though it was uneven, and down, yet a which with and to sleep upon her. She had all of time or direction. They moved in soft thick darkness, in which she sometimes up like black ramparts, or great the stars; at times she them, or the wind of cold about her. Gradually these into a in which the of and the of were like the in a dream.
She was aware when the motion and she was and a steps. Then she was on something soft and rustling, and something—a perhaps—was under her head, and the in which she was was about her. She Yar Afzal laugh.
'A prize, Conan; fit for a of the Afghulis.'
'Not for me,' came Conan's rumble. 'This will the of my seven headmen, blast their souls.'
That was the last she as she into slumber.
She slept while men through the dark hills, and the of in the balance. Through the and that night there the of horses, and the on and blades, until the that the into the from and and what were afoot.
A of these sat in the black of a as the past. Their leader, a well-built man in a and gilt-braided cloak, up his hand warningly, until the had on. Then he laughed softly.
'They must have the trail! Or else they have that Conan has already the Afghuli villages. It will take many to out that hive. There will be up the Zhaibar by dawn.'
'If there is in the there will be looting,' a voice him, in the of the Irakzai.
'There will be looting,' answered the man with the helmet. 'But it is our to the of Gurashah and the that will be from Secunderam daylight.'
He his and out of the defile, his men in him—thirty in the starlight.
