Dryantore held his hand; but he told Conan that he would for a certainty kill him next time he came, if he did not find him already dead of his wounds. Then he stalked out of the dungeon, and, shutting close the door, left the Fena in gloom and sadness.
Though Lavaran had been only a little while in the palace, he made good use of his time, and now approaching Finn, he whispered in his ear—
"There is that in yonder palace which would free us from those accursed spells if we only could get at it."
And when Finn asked what it was, he replied, "A magical golden drinking-horn of wondrous virtue. I saw it in the palace among many other precious jewels."
And when Finn again questioned him how he knew of its secret power, he said—
"Glanlua, my wife, told me. For she said that, being herself at the point of death, Ailna fetched this drinking-horn and bade her drink. And when she had drunk, she was immediately freed from spells and sickness. She told me, moreover, that it would remove the spell from the Fena, and bring back their strength and heal their wounds, if they could get to drink from it."
Conan, being near, overheard this conversation; and he inwardly resolved that he would try to secure the drinking-horn, if perchance he might be able to heal his wounds by means of it.
Not long after, the giant again came to the prison, sword in hand, and addressed Conan in these words—
"Come forward now, O big, bald man, for I am about to fulfil my promise to you! Come forward, that I may strike off your large head; for I see that your wounds have not killed you!"
But Conan, instead of coming forward, fell back even to the farthest part of the dungeon, and replied—