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.'