Conan of Venarium

From what the Gunderman had heard, the Aquilonian army had crossed into Cimmeria in one place, had advanced together until it ran into the wild men, and then had beaten them, opening the southern part of the land to settlement. The barbarians' entry into Aquilonian territory was a different business. They slipped across the river by ones and twos, by tens and twenties, and soon Melcer was seeing new fires not in Cimmeria alone, but also in the land Kings of Aquilonia had ruled for generations.

The hastily mustered defense forces rushed this way and that, trying to run the barbarians to earth before they did too much damage. Sometimes they succeeded. More often, the Cimmerians escaped to burn and plunder and kill somewhere else.

Melcer slept very little. His pikestaff acquired sinister red-brown stains. He found himself wearing a mailshirt before too long. The underofficer who had had the shirt would never need it again. Of that Melcer was sure. It did not fit him very well, but he stopped grumbling after it stopped an arrow that might have pierced his heart. He soon found himself doing a sergeant's job. He did not get a sergeant's pay—he got no pay at all, only food, and not enough of that—but men recruited after him, men who had not seen what he had seen or done what he had done, listened to what he said and obeyed his commands.

He wondered what he would do if he and his men hunted down Conan and his father. The Cimmerians could have slain him. Conan had not called letting him go an act of friendship or mercy or anything of the sort. But whether he had used the name or not, that was what it amounted to.

Maybe the boy —the youth, now —and the great, hulking man who had sired him had perished in the fight at Fort Venarium or one of the smaller skirmishes between Sciliax's farm and the border between Cimmeria and Aquilonia. For the sake of his own conscience, Melcer hoped they had.

He soon had other things to worry about. As more and more barbarians came over the border, the defenders had to split themselves up into smaller and smaller bands to try to deal with all of them. Sometimes a larger swarm of Cimmerians would fall on one of those bands, in which case the result would be massacre, but not massacre of the sort King Numedides' followers wanted.

Melcer and his men and some other soldiers from Gunderland had to clean up the results of one such miscalculation. For a little while, things went better than they had any business doing, for they found some of the Cimmerian sentries drunk asleep, got past them, and assailed the main body of enemy warriors before the barbarians knew they were anywhere close by. But the Cimmerians fought back with a grim, implacable ferocity that stalled the Aquilonian attack at the edge of an orchard.

The trees gave archers excellent cover. Melcer's byrnie turned another Cimmerian arrow. He wondered whether the sergeant who had not wanted to give him a coat of mail still lived. He also wondered whether that sergeant had got into the fighting himself, or whether he had fled south and let others try to hold the barbarians out of Aquilonia.

"Let's go!" shouted Melcer. "We can drive them back!" He rushed at a Cimmerian. The man carried only a shortsword and wore no armor, not even a helmet. He had no chance against a mailed pikeman, and he knew it. He gave ground to save his gore.

Seeing him draw back encouraged the Bossonians and Gundermen with Melcer. They followed the farmer, where they might not have if the Cimmerian had stood his ground. Here in this little brawl, the civilized soldiers outnumbered their barbarous foes.

Once the fighting got in amongst the apple and pear trees, it was every man for himself. "Numedides!" cried Melcer, and his men took up the cry. The Cimmerians yelled back, some using war cries in their own language, others calling down curses on Numedides' head in broken Aquilonian.

A Cimmerian threw a stone at Melcer. The chainmail kept it from breaking ribs, but he knew he would wear a bruise despite the padding under the links of iron. He saw another Cimmerian with an axe hotly engaged against a Gunderman, and rushed over to help his countryman finish the enemy warrior.

Before he got there, the Cimmerian cut down the other pikeman. The fellow brought up his axe, ready to chop at Melcer, who set himself for a lunge at the barbarian. They both checked themselves in the same instant, exclaiming, "You!"

In that frozen moment, Melcer made his choice. He drew back and lowered his spear, saying, "Go your way, Conan. You spared me and mine when you might have slain. I can do no less for you. Is your father here as well?"

"No." The young barbarian shook his head. "He fell at Venarium. Stay safe, Melcer. Maybe some other Cimmerian will bring you down."

"We were invaders in your land," said Melcer. "You fought hard to drive us out. You are the invaders here. Do you think we will act differently?"