'There's no limit to what we may accomplish! We have eleven thousand men now. In another year we may have three times that number. We've contented ourselves, so far, with raids on the Turanian outposts and the city-states to the west. With thirty or forty thousand men we'll raid no longer. We'll invade and conquer and establish ourselves as rulers. I'll be emperor of all Shem yet, and you'll be my vizier, so long as you carry out my orders unquestioningly. In the meantime, I think we'll ride eastward and storm that Turanian outpost at Vezek, where the caravans pay toll.' Conan shook his head. 'I think not.' Olgerd glared, his quick temper irritated. 'What do you mean, _you_ think not? I do the thinking for this army!' 'There are enough men in this band now for my purpose,' answered the Cimmerian. 'I'm sick of waiting. I have a score to settle.' 'Oh!' Olgerd scowled, and gulped wine, then grinned. 'Still thinking of that cross, eh? Well, I like a good hater. But that can wait.' 'You told me once you'd aid me in taking Khauran,' said Conan. 'Yes, but that was before I began to see the full possibilities of our power,' answered Olgerd. 'I was only thinking of the loot in the city. I don't want to waste our strength unprofitably. Khauran is too strong a nut for us to crack now. Maybe in a year--' 'Within the week,' answered Conan, and the _kozak_ stared at the certainty in his voice. 'Listen,' said Olgerd, 'even if I were willing to throw away men on such a hare-brained attempt--what could you expect? Do you think these wolves could besiege and take a city like Khauran?' 'There'll be no siege,' answered the Cimmerian. 'I know how to draw Constantius out into the plain.' 'And what then?' cried Olgerd with an oath. 'In the arrow-play our horsemen would have the worst of it, for the armor of the _asshuri_ is the better, and when it came to sword-strokes their close-marshaled ranks of trained swordsmen would cleave through our loose lines and scatter our men like chaff before the wind.' 'Not if there were three thousand desperate Hyborian horsemen fighting in a solid wedge such as I could teach them,' answered Conan. 'And where would you secure three thousand Hyborians?' asked Olgerd with vast sarcasm. 'Will you conjure them out of the air?' 'I _have_ them,' answered the Cimmerian imperturbably. 'Three thousand men of Khauran camp at the oasis of Akrel awaiting my orders.' '_What?_' Olgerd glared like a startled wolf.