Free Conan The Indomitable by Steve Perry Page B

upon
it.
    “Aye,” Tull said. “The juice of this particular toadstool is
harmless, but it ‘cooks’ the fish. In a few minutes it’ll be like we roasted it
in an oven.”
    Conan was somewhat dubious as to the powers of toadstool liquid, but a taste
of the fish when Tull indicated that it was “done” put an end to his
doubts. The fish was delicious! Given that it was the first meal he and Elashi
had enjoyed in some time, they ate with gluttonous relish, stuffing the fish
down in great mouthfuls.
    Somewhat later, feeling sated, Conan said, “I suppose it would be too
much to ask that another of these fungi along the wall would serve as
wine?”
    Tull chuckled. “Would that it were so, lad,
but nay. There is a kind of mushroom I’ve seen that gives visions when eaten,
but it has a nasty flavor and is just as apt to make a man puke as dream.”
    “Thank you, no,” Conan said.
    Elashi had climbed down the steps Conan had carved into the monster fish and
was washing her hands in the water. She finished the chore quickly, mindful of the kind of things Tull had spoken of as living in the lake.
    “Well,” she said as she ascended the fish back to the shallow
depression where Conan and Tull sat digesting their recent meal. “Are we
ready to begin this altogether unusual voyage?”
    Conan nodded, stood, and stretched. “ Aye, and
why not?” Joints and sinews popped as he rolled his shoulders and swung
his arms back and forth to loosen them.
    With that, he fetched one of the paddles. Tull took the other, and they
moved to the edges of their fishy boat to stand in the wells they had carved
out for support. The Cimmerian looked across the fish at Tull, who nodded, and
both men dug their paddles into the water.
    Slowly, ponderously, the dead fish began to move.

* * *
    It was not the best of all possible craft, but once moving, the fish slid
through the still water fairly easily. Currents, if there were any, did not
seem to impede their progress, and nothing from the depths rose to challenge
them.
    Not long after they started, the place from whence they had begun their
voyage was lost in the darkness. The cave roof oft dipped lower and raised higher, and the side walls were sometimes not in
view. It might almost be a lake above ground on a moonlit night, save that the
light here was decidedly green and no breath of wind nor insect’s call disturbed the silence. There were only the sounds of their
paddles splashing in the water and an occasional intestinal groan from the
innards of the decomposing fish.
    Conan had been in places he preferred more, but all in all, his fortunes
could have been considerably worse. He had good companions, a full belly, and
control of his movements. His blade was sharp in its sheath, and there would
certainly be no lack of food in the foreseeable future. It was true that Crom
had not favored him with a gold and gem-encrusted barge, but there was
transportation, albeit somewhat slippery, and he and his companions seemed safe
from immediate pursuit. Anyone trying to swim after them would likely be apt to
find themselves lining the belly of a creature like
the one beneath Conan’s feet. He found that thought pleasing. A comfortable
heat lubricated his shoulders, and the strain of rowing was pleasant, raising a
legitimate sweat upon his skin. A man could do far worse.
    As to the future? Well, he did not ponder overmuch
on that. Better to live in the moment and deal with the future when it arrived;
elsewise a man might spend his entire life fretting of things that might never
come to pass. Such worries would serve only to spend one’s alloted time, and
were foolish ways to waste it. Even paddling a dead fish over a silent lake,
lit by glowing fungus and buried under the earth, certainly bettered the
alternative he had been facing only a few hours past. He still lived, and that
was the most important fact. Everything else could be worked out as it
happened.
    Smiling to himself, Conan pulled his