'Are you lost, dog?' demanded Valerius harshly.
'Listen!'
Somewhere ahead of them a faint vibration began, the rhythmic rumble of a drum.
'Conan's drum!' exclaimed the Aquilonian.
'If we are close enough to hear the drum,' said Valerius, 'why do we not hear the shouts and the clang of arms? Surely battle has joined.'
'The gorges and the winds play strange tricks,' answered Tiberias, his teeth chattering with the ague that is frequently the lot of men who have spent much time in damp underground dungeons.
'Listen!'
Faintly to their ears came a low muffled roar.
'They are fighting down in the valley!' cried Tiberias. 'The drum is beating on the heights. Let us hasten!'
He rode straight on toward the sound of the distant drum as one who knows his ground at last. Valerius followed, cursing the fog. Then it occurred to him that it would mask his advance. Conan could not see him coming. He would be at the Cimmerian's back before the noonday sun dispelled the mists.