He didn't want that. The plateau, the red fog vanished. The flame birds, too. He lay once more on the floor of the sea shepherds, struggling. "That was just a start," Rann told him. "Next time, I'll leave you up there on the plateau in that body. _Now_, will you tell the plans of the sea people? And go on living in Conan? He's yours, if you tell." She smirked. "You don't want to be dead." Starke tried to reason it out. Any way he turned was the wrong way. He grunted out a breath. "If I tell, you'll still kill Beudag." "Her life in exchange for what you know, Hugh Starke." Her answer was too swift. It had the sound of treachery. Starke did not believe. He would die. That would solve it. Then, at least, Rann would die when the sea people carried out their strategy. That much revenge, at least, damn it. Then he got the idea. He coughed out a laugh, raised his weak head to look at the startled sea shepherd. His little dialogue with Rann had taken about ten seconds, actually, but it had seemed a century. The sea shepherd stepped forward. Starke tried to get to his feet. "Got--got a proposition for you. You with the harp. Rann's inside me. _Now._ Unless you guarantee Crom Dhu and Beudag's safety, I'll tell her some things she might want to be in on!" The sea shepherd drew a knife. Starke shook his head, coldly. "Put it away. Even if you get me I'll give the whole damned strategy to Rann." The shepherd dropped his hand. He was no fool. Rann tore at Starke's brain. "Tell me! Tell me their plan!" He felt like a guy in a revolving door. Starke got the sea men in focus. He saw that they were afraid now, doubtful and nervous. "I'll be dead in a minute," said Starke. "Promise me the safety of Crom Dhu and I'll die without telling Rann a thing." The sea shepherd hesitated, then raised his palm upward. "I promise," he said. "Crom Dhu will go untouched." Starke sighed. He let his head fall forward until it hit the floor. Then he rolled over, put his hands over his eyes. "It's a deal. Go give Rann hell for me, will you, boys? Give her hell!" As he drifted into mind darkness, Rann waited for him. Feebly, he told her. "Okay, duchess. You'd kill me even if I'd told you the idea. I'm ready. Try your god-awfullest to shove me back into that stinking body of mine. I'll fight you all the way there!" Rann screamed. It was a pretty frustrated scream. Then the pains began. She did a lot of work on his mind in the next minute. That part of him that was Conan held on like a clam holding to its precious contents. The odor of putrid flesh returned. The blood mist returned. The flame birds fell down at him in spirals of sparks and blistering smoke, to winnow his naked ribs. Starke spoke one last word before the blackness took him. "Beudag." * * * * * He never expected to awaken again. He awoke just the same.