ees, but his tall mate lunged in, in
ferocious silence, raining blow on blow so furiously that Valeria had no
opportunity to counter. She stepped back coolly, parrying the strokes
and watching for her chance to thrust home. He could not long keep up
that flailing whirlwind. His arm would tire, his wind would fail; he
would weaken, falter, and then her blade would slide smoothly into his
heart. A sidelong glance showed her Techotl kneeling on the breast of
his antagonist and striving to break the other's hold on his wrist and
to drive home a dagger.

Sweat beaded the forehead of the man facing her, and his eyes were like
burning coals. Smite as he would, he could not break past nor beat down
her guard. His breath came in gusty gulps, his blows began to fall
erratically. She stepped back to draw him out--and felt her thighs
locked in an iron grip. She had forgotten the wounded man on the floor.

Crouching on his knees, he held her with both arms locked about her
legs, and his mate croaked in triumph and began working his way around
to come at her from the left side. Valeria wrenched and tore savagely,
but in vain. She could free herself of this clinging menace with a
downward flick of her sword, but in that instant the curved blade of the
tall warrior would crash through her skull. The wounded man began to
worry at her bare thigh with his teeth like a wild beast.

She reached down with her left hand and gripped his long hair, forcing
his head back so that his white teeth and rolling eyes gleamed up at
her. The tall Xotalanc cried out fiercely and leaped in, smiting with
all the fury of his arm. Awkwardly she parried the stroke, and it beat
the flat of her blade down on her head so that she saw sparks flash
before her eyes, and staggered. Up went the sword again, with a low,
beast-like cry of triumph--and then a giant form loomed behind the
Xotalanc and steel flashed like a jet of blue lightning. The cry of the
warrior broke short and he went down like an ox beneath the pole-ax, his
brains gushing from his skull that had been split to the throat.

"Conan!" gasped Valeria. In a gust of passion she turned on the Xotalanc
whose long hair she still gripped in her left hand. "Dog of hell!" Her
blade swished as it cut the air in an upswinging arc with a blur in the
middle, and the headless body slumped down, spurting blood. She hurled
the severed head across the room.

"What the devil's going on here?" Conan bestrode the cor