Conan and the Modern Woman

Conan the Cimmerian walked down the deserted alley grinning to himself. He'd just spent the night guzzling ale and enjoying the charms of at least two wenches serving at the tavern. While neither one of them were great beauties, they both made up in curves and enthusiasm what they lacked in perfect features.

He strode confidently through the morass of detritus and noisome fluids that littered the dark street. There were no torches lighting the way, only the dim starlight from above. That was enough for the barbarian to see as clearly as most city men could see on a rainy day. Even with all the ale he'd downed, he had no trouble discerning the two shadows moving furtively among the deeper gloom of the back alley.

His lips curled into a broad smile, his teeth gleaming against the deep shadows on his face.

"Ho Dogs!" he called out, "If you think to find me unmanned, you'll be sorely disappointed!"

He watched as the two men, believing themselves to be invisible until this moment, stiffened. Then they rushed at him from two directions.

Conan smirked at sight of the cudgels they wielded and side-stepped the first blow. Because he was feeling good from his revels in the tavern, he didn't bother drawing the saber from his broad girdle. Instead he slammed his fist up and under the man's jaw.

The would-be thief crumpled like a sack of wet linen. The pitiful whimper he let out before he went down distracted his partner. This man looked to him in the last second before his weapon was to fall on the barbarian's head. Before the blow could land he felt a vice-like grip around his throat. Then he was swung around bodily and held firmly against the daubed mud wall with the toes of his feet a full hand's breadth off the ground beneath him.

"Get back to your Mama's teat Dog!" Conan snarled into the man's face.

The attacker recoiled from the large man's grip and from the haze of beer-infused breath he exhaled.

"Mercy!" he squealed, "I beg you!"

"Mercy?" Conan snapped, "Such as you would have given me no doubt if I hadn't been ready for you!"

"Please Master!" the man pleaded, "I'll no more take up this path!"

"A likely story by Crom!" Conan said with disdain, "Next time I won't hesitate to use my blade on you! Now be off!"

The big barbarian tossed the man to the side like so much waste and walked on. He heard the man sputter in agony but didn't turn his head.

He walked leisurely to the end of the alley and turned toward the inn where he'd paid his accommodation for the night. As he did he stopped dead in his tracks.

Where he expected to see the battered doorway to the cheap clapboard building where he'd earlier paid three coins for his lodging, he instead saw a ghostly mist glimmering softly in the dark. It seemed to cover the whole rundown shack and he took an involuntary step back.

"Crom!" he whispered to no one in particular.

Thieves set to waylay helpless travelers gave him no qualms. Even a party of fully armed riders bent on skewering him alive would have offered him no more than a problem to solve with muscle and his trusty blade. But this glowing nimbus raised the hackles on the back of his neck. He had no doubt it was magic but he preferred to sidestep magic and sorcery wherever he could.

He took another step back and narrowed his eyes at the floating miasma in front of him. He decided he would sleep on the docks tonight. Devil take this glowing fog!

Then he heard a woman scream. The sound came from directly in front of him, from somewhere on the other side of the mist that blocked his way.

Conan drew his Saber and plunged through it without a second thought.

He blinked in surprise as he cleared the fog. In front of him was what appeared to be a road, though it was unlike any he'd ever seen before. There were no paving stones or even flags to flatten the route. The entire surface was already flat, unnaturally flat! It was black in color with a curious looking design painted with yellow patterns in various places. He could make no sense of it.

What further confused him were the magical globes held up by posts that lighted the whole area!

All this he saw in no more than a heartbeat.

"Crom!" he whispered, "What kind of land is this I've stumbled into?"

Then he concentrated on the scene being played out not more than thirty paces in front of him.

There was a woman, dressed in some sort of shift, though it was unlike any woman's garment he was familiar with. It was black and covered her upper torso even as it clung to her generous curves like wet cotton. She seemed to have lost her lower garment. The shift covered her only down to just past her generous hips. On her feet she wore gleaming black sandals with heels such as he'd seen the ladies wearing in the large cities of the far-east in exotic Khitai. They elevated the backs of her feet almost a hands breadth off the ground. He'd never seen a western woman wearing such things.

She was a fine beauty for all that with curves to make a man go mad with desire!

There were three men advancing on her. She was clearly frightened of them and she screamed for help once again.

The men were dressed in dark colored leggings with thin shirts and tunics that covered them to their wrists. Two of them were carrying what looked like knives, though they were the puniest knives Conan could recall seeing. The blades were barely two hand spans in length. The third man appeared to be unarmed.

They rushed her then and wrestled her down. While two of the men secured her legs the third ripped her shift away. The torn garment opened wide and revealed her bounteous charms. The men guffawed and pawed at her rudely. Finally they pulled a tiny pink colored garment away from between her thighs, then she was naked as the day she was born.

She screamed in outrage again and Conan stepped forward.

"Ho there, you scurvy dogs!" he shouted, "Three of you to take one woman? You're as cowardly a lot as I've seen in many a moon!"

He crouched into a ready position with his saber drawn and ready to rend flesh.

The men looked to him in amazement. They took in his leathern tunic and the breechclout beneath it and the bright red cloak slung across one shoulder. They saw also the Saber held in his hand. Then their leader grinned.

"Hey look at that!" he said with a laugh, "This guy's been to a Halloween party!"

The other two men chuckled and turned to him, each of them brandishing their blades at him threateningly.

"Get lost Pal!" one of them said, "Maybe you can have her when we're done with her."

Conan smiled broadly and narrowed his eyes.

"You think to drive me off with those little stickers?" he said, "Come and see how much I fear you!"

The two men laughed and looked at each other. The third man took a few steps toward them.

"Just kill him," he said impatiently.

"You can try Dogs!" Conan said lustily.

The man rolled his eyes and waved his two partners forward.

"Kill him!" he repeated.

As the men with knives crept toward him cautiously, Conan leapt forward and lopped the hand of one of them clean off. The man screamed and fell to his knees, the stump of his right arm held in his left hand. Conan's saber drove through the man's chest and he looked up and whimpered pitifully.

As he kicked the man backward to clear his blade the second man jumped toward him. Conan's elbow caught the man clean in the jaw and he dropped like a stone. Then he lay flat on his back without moving.

Conan looked up and grinned at the third man.

"What say you Dog?" he said, "Will you close with me?"

"Fuck this!" the man said fearfully.

He reached into a fold of his tunic and withdrew a small black object. He held his hand out at arm's length and then there was a resounding boom.

Conan's grin disappeared in a grimace of unexpected pain. He looked down at his arm and saw that a bloody hole had appeared there. The pain was like that of being stabbed.

Conan had been stabbed before; many times! He ignored the pain and snarled at the man who'd just wounded him.

With a growl he glared at the man with all the ferocity pent up in his barbarian soul.

There was another loud boom but he had turned his body slightly. He felt rather than saw something whiz past his head.

With a bound he was within striking distance. As the man extended the object in his hand toward him again, Conan sliced downward at the man's neck. The man stared at him in disbelief for a moment and then his head, right shoulder and arm fell to one side as the rest of him fell to the other.

Conan thrust his saber home and scowled down at his arm. He wiped the blood away from the strangely clean round hole and pursed his lips in concentration.

He removed the raggedy bandana that was around his neck and tied it tightly about his arm to stem the flow of blood. Then he looked up at the woman standing a few paces away from him.

By now she had recovered her black shift and held it roughly against her form. The pink cloth still lay on the ground at her feet.

"Ho Girl!" Conan called out to her, "Are you harmed?"

The woman stared at him with wide eyes and without speaking. She still appeared to be frightened but also seemed curious.

"Are you hurt?" Conan repeated.

She shook her head and swallowed nervously.

"That's some costume you've got," she said.

"Costume?" Conan replied with confusion, "You mean my garb?"

"Yeah," she said, "It's very convincing! That sword is sharp! You just cut that guy's head off!"

Conan laughed softly.

"That is what it's for," he said.

"Yeah," she said, "But we should get out of here before the cops come. You could get in lots of trouble for that!"

"Trouble?" he said with a frown, "For slicing a knave such as that?"

"Yeah!" she said, "The law frowns on that kind of thing!"

"What, the town watch will come?" he snarled, "Devil take them! I've run afoul of the watch too many times. Aye, we should depart and quickly! Where can we find horses?"

"No horses around here Buddy," she said, "But we can take my car."

"My name is not Buddy," he said, "I am Conan. A Cimmerian."

"Conan?" she asked, "Like the talk show host?"

"I do not know the words you use," he said with a frown.

"Never mind," she said, "Come on. Let's get out of here."

She led him to a box-like metal contraption a few paces away. Conan realized it was some sort of carriage only when she pulled a door open from its side. She told him to get in the opposite side and he walked around it, looking at it curiously.

She flung the door beside him open and shouted for him to get in.

He frowned but sat in the gloriously upholstered throne beside hers. She took a small object from her bag and turned it against a strange looking column in front of her. Suddenly the carriage roared to magical life. The panel in front of him lit with glowing stars, a pair of lamps on the front shone impossibly far out front of the carriage and a low roaring sound came from directly in front of his feet.

"What in Crom's name is happening?" he shouted.

"Come on, close the door!" she said to him urgently.

He looked wildly from side to side, wondering what magic this was and she pointed at the door to his right side.

"Close it now!" she shouted.

He pulled on a handle that was moulded into the panel and the door thudded shut. She pulled at a handle at her side and then the carriage began to move, even without horses or oxen to draw it.

"What magic is this?" he said in barely concealed fear.

She looked at him and frowned.

"Haven't you been in a car before?" she asked him.

"A car?" Conan said a little too loudly for the small space, "What is a car?"

She took a deep breath and then concentrated on guiding the carriage where she would.

"Don't worry," she said and placed a hand on his arm, "I've got this under control. I'm going to take you someplace I can bandage your arm."

Conan looked at her and decided he would trust her for now. If she led him to a nest of devils in this magical carriage, well, he would worry about that later. His sword had proven useful in this magical world so far, he was confident it would not fail him if he had need.

"You saved me back there," she said, "I'm Julie by the way."

He looked out the glass pane at his side and marvelled at the speed they made. No horse he had ever known could match it!

"Thanks for saving me!" she said with a grin, "I thought I was done for!"

"A woman should not be out alone after dark," he mumbled, "Not without servants for protection."

"What?" she said in outrage, "You think I need protection?"

"Clearly, you do, Girl!" he said, "Else those knaves would be ravaging you as we speak!"

"I guess you're one of those guys who thinks a woman should only speak when spoken to," she said with a hint of anger.

"When a woman has something to say, she should say it proudly," he replied, "Unless it is lacking in sense, such as what you have said."

"What?" she shouted, "What did I say that didn't make any sense?"

"You said you had no need of servants for protection," Conan said, "Clearly you need a man to accompany you, especially when you dress like a Zingaran harlot!"

"Harlot?" she screamed.

The carriage then came to a sudden halt. Conan had to brace his elbows on the panel in front of him. Even so he was bruised and he uttered an oath at the jarring stop. At the same time the magical lights all flickered out and the noise, previously a low rumble like the ocean heard from afar, ceased.

"Crom Girl!" he shouted angrily, "You said you had this carriage under control!"

"Get out!" she said, "Get out of my car!"

He snarled and stared at her hard, his piercing blue eyes boring into her.

"Devil take you and this cursed magical world!" he shouted, "I'll no more stay in this fantasy land!"

"Good!" she shouted, "Get out!"

He wrestled with the handle on the door but it wouldn't budge. He was about to drive his elbow through the glass partition beside his head when she reached across him. She flicked a curious looking metal handle and the door catch was released.

"It's very easy, you moron!" she snarled.

"Moron?" he yelled, "You call me simple?"

"Yes you're simple!" she shouted, "Get out of my car!"

With a scowl he climbed out of the carriage and stood back. This magical contraption unnerved him in a way that scores of armed opponents did not.

As he took a few measured paces back, the girl reached again to the strange looking column between her feet. She appeared to be turning something with her fingers but he couldn't see what she was doing clearly.

Once or twice the carriage made a pathetic surging sound but the magical lights only flickered briefly before dying out.

With a disgusted shake of his head Conan walked away as the girl hurled out curse after curse at her stricken carriage.

"At least horses are reliable," he muttered as he began to wander back in the direction they had come.

He didn't realize until now how far they had traveled in the short space of time he'd been in the carriage with her. He recognized the strange looking buildings where he'd first encountered the girl far in the distance.

As he began his measured pace toward those far off structures he heard the door to the carriage slam shut. He looked back over his shoulder to see Julie standing beside the carriage and continuing to curse lavishly.

As he was about to turn back he stiffened. Two men were approaching her and appeared to be much the same as the three he'd dispatched not long ago. When they saw her dishevelled state and the ragged appearance of her shredded shift they rushed at her.

Conan rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Will this girl never learn?" he muttered even as he began running toward her.

By now Julie was on her back. Her shift had been tossed aside to leave her stark naked and one of the men was forcing her thighs apart. The other was laughing as he held her arms back over her head.

Before Conan could get there, the man straddling her had succeeded in penetrating her. Julie howled in anguish and kicked and squirmed to try to free herself.

Her struggles seemed only to excite the man. After a few strained pushes of his hips he stiffened suddenly with a groan.

"Come on Man," the other said, "My turn!"

As the men changed positions and Julia struggled to regain her feet Conan arrived.

The man in the process of removing his leggings suddenly found ten inches of cold steel penetrating out the front of his chest. He gasped and choked as the life flowed out of him. Then he fell to one side.

The other man looked up in surprise at Conan's arrival and backed away from Julia in fear.

"What the fuck Man?" he shouted.

Conan stared at the man coldly, his piercing blue eyes seeming to bore through to the man's dark soul.

Without hesitation the man ran for his life. Conan watched him dispassionately as he drew the dagger thrust into his belt. With one quick motion he flung it. The running man suddenly threw his hands wide and fell face forward to the ground.

Conan stalked over to the man and worked the knife free of his back. Then he cleaned the blades of both dagger and saber on the man's garments and thrust both into their sheaths.

He walked back to the girl and sighed as she sat cross legged on the ground.

Julie was sobbing. She felt between her thighs and grimaced at the sticky fluid she found there. She reached into herself and gouged out as much of the foul seed as she could.

"Are you going to say I told you so?" she asked between whimpers.

Conan stared down at her and shook his head. He reached for her and she looked at him fearfully. At first she shrunk from his touch, but then threw herself against him, sobbing into his broad chest.

Conan removed his cloak and wrapped her in it. She pulled at it to cover her shoulders, taking comfort in the scent of him that permeated the mantle.

"That's the second time you saved me tonight," Julie said with a soft cry.

Conan held her close without answering.

"And after I was such a bitch!" she said with feeling, "I shouldn't have said those things to you. You were right. I was just too stubborn to admit it!"

"How far is your home Girl?" he asked gently.

"It's far," she said, "Too far to walk. And this neighborhood is a bad one to walk through."

Conan thought to himself that the ruffians populating this area were no match for the brigands that inhabited his own world, but he stayed silent on that.

"Come Girl!" he said as he lifted her bodily, "I will take you some place you can rest before we get you home."

She nestled into his big chest gratefully and Conan carried her like a child. He walked for a long distance until he'd found a suitable place to lie low. It was a small grotto off the road and isolated by a stand of trees with shrubs. He laid her down amongst the bushes and wrapped the thick cloak about her. He sat cross legged at her side.

"You sleep Girl," he said as he laid his Saber across his lap, "I will keep watch."

Julie looked up at him, his heavily muscled arms glistening in the moonlight, his broad chest looking as though it was carved from marble and sighed.

"Conan?" she asked meekly.

"Yes Girl."

"Do you think I'm dirty now?" she said, "After, well, after those men—"

"Nonsense Girl!" he said sharply, "What those men did, they were cowards who cannot find a woman to bed without violence. Their foul deeds do not stain you in the least!"

She looked at him from the folds of his cloak and she reached to place her hand on his arm.

"So you wouldn't," she began, "You'd still, well, am I still pretty?"

"Pretty?" he said with a wolfish grin, "Why, you're as fair as a flower on a spring day! There is nothing but beauty about you!"

Suddenly her arms were locked around his bull-like neck and she was pressing hot lips against his.