'Crom!' muttered Conan, staring at the old woman. 'Are you a magician, too?'
'I am Zelata,' she said. 'The people of the valleys call me a witch. Was that child of the night guiding armed men on your trail?'
'Aye.' She did not seem to think the answer fantastic. 'They cannot be far behind me.'
'Lead your horse and follow me, King Conan,' she said briefly.
Without comment he mounted the rocks and brought his horse down to the glade by a circuitous path. As he came he saw the eagle reappear, dropping lazily down from the sky, and rest an instant on Zelata's shoulder, spreading its great wings lightly so as not to crush her with its weight.
Without a word she led the way, the great wolf trotting at her side, the eagle soaring above her. Through deep thickets and along tortuous ledges poi
