Conan The Freelance by Steve Perry

cannot provide enough nourishment for the roots of so many trees such as ours. So the medicine woman-she was known as Jinde-wove another spell, which she invested in a special seed. It gives great energy to any plants near it.”
    Magic. A thing not at all to Conan’s liking. It seemed to be everywhere he went, and he would avoid dealing with it, given a choice.
    “Without the seed,” Cheen continued, “our trees will soon wither and die.”
    Well. A sad fate, but not really Conan’s concern. Best to leave magic to those who wanted to deal with it.
    Before Cheen could continue, Tair came running toward them. “Have you seen Hok?” he said, all out of breath.
    “No,” Cheen answered. She looked at Conan.
    “Not since before the ceremony,” he said.
    “He should be in the boys’ hut,” Cheen said.
    Tair nodded. “Aye, he should be, but he is not.”
    “Have the call drum sounded. He is probably up and wandering about because of all the excitement,” she said.
    But when the last echoes of the drum faded, the boy Hok did not respond, and a search of every tree also failed to turn him up. When the hunt had been completed, Cheen’s face was a mix of rage and sorrow as she said, “Along with the life of our grove, the selkies have stolen my youngest brother!”
    The sun blazed and beat upon the heads of the selkies as they trudged across the isthmus of dry sand belonging to the Pili. Kleg would feel much better once they had achieved the coolness of the distant mountains, both for reasons of comfort and of safety. Good fortune had traveled with them during the outwardbound journey and he would have such luck continue as they returned home with their master’s prize.
    It was not to be. From behind a tall hillock of sand and scrubby growth ahead, a troop of Pili emerged, armed with their long dart slingers and prepared for battle.
    Kleg counted the lizard men and saw that they numbered only slightly more than his own band. He called his selkies to a halt.
    Normally, a group such as Kleg’s would be attacked immediately; however, the Pili seemed in no great hurry to begin the fight that would surely end with much death on both sides. They, too, stopped and waited. Kleg took this as a good sign.
    After a few moments, one of the Pili stepped forward. From the bright red sash he wore wrapped around his middle, Kleg assumed he was the leader. It was difficult to say, since the Pili all looked alike to him. The single Pili strode toward the selkies.
    One of Kleg’s troopers raised a spear, but Kleg waved one hand at him. “Nay, hold,” he said. “Perhaps we might come to some accommodation.” Kleg stepped forward and walked toward the approaching lizard man. When they were two spans apart, both stopped.
    “You trespass on Pili territory,” the lizard man said. His accent was harsh, but his command of the common tongue was adequate for normal conversation.
    Kleg did not bother to try and deny it. “Aye. My master, He Who Creates, has bid me to achieve His business with haste; to go around would cost two days.”
    “Attempting to cross will surely cost you much more. My master, the Lord High King Rayk, has charged me with protecting his domain from unauthorized trespass.”
    “It seems we are at an impasse then.”
    “So it seems. We outnumber you.”
    “Indeed, but by a small margin. If we fight, most of us will likely die on both sides.”
    “True. It is unfortunate, but not to be helped.”
    The lizard man turned to walk back to his troops.
    “But hold a moment,” Kleg said. “Perhaps there is a way around this dilemma.”
    The lizard man stopped. “I am listening.”
    “What if there were a way for our passage to be authorized?”
    “Hardly likely.”
    “Yet you could grant us crossing were there a compelling reason?”
    “It is within the realm of possibility.”
    Kleg spoke rapidly in true selkie speech, a liquid whistling that the lizard man could not possibly understand. One of Kleg’s troop