The horn of Dagoth.

"Ahh, I see you knew Conan well indeed," Sonja laughed, casting a sly glance and smirk towards Conan herself before wading to the bank to recover her weapons and clothing. "As intimately as I knew him myself, it seems."

"Aye, it appears a strange coincidence that we have crossed paths, both having been despoiled by the brute's cock," Karela agreed. "Though by all accounts the women so unfortunate would number a mighty host."

Conan had to bite her tongue to prevent her leaping to her former male self's defence. Neither Karela nor Sonja had seemed unsatisfied when she had bedded them, nor had any other of the countless whores, witches and warrioresses she had wetted her vanished cock inside. Wanting to change the subject from the humiliating litany of her true identities' perceived failings, Conan spoke up.

"Where were you headed before you discovered us bathing?" Conan asked Karela. "Your leathers show you crossed the desert. What business would you have in Stygia?"

"Bathing? I watched long enough, you were blind to my presence while so intent on fingering your cunts." Karela chuckled lewdly. "No shame in self-pleasure, lass. I was bound for Luxor, a city of wizards. There, I hope to get the best price for an artefact that I stole from the palace of Shadizar."

Another coincidence or the interference of the gods, Conan wondered? That two redhaired wenches she had fucked should meet, both carrying an artefact of great value to the magic weavers of Set, could not be mere happenstance. Her curiosity was roused; Shadizar was well known to her, she had by might of sword placed Queen Jehnna upon the throne there.

"We are headed to Luxor also," Sonja declared as she buckled her skimpy armoured skirt around her hips. "We need to consult with a wizard-priest on a personal matter. Perhaps we might ride in company for mutual protection."

"That seems wise," Karela nodded, looking Sonja up and down to assess her strength and skill. Her gaze passed over Conan with barely a pause. "The border of Stygia teems with outcasts and slavers. Two sword arms will keep our necks free from collars more easily than one."

"What artefact did you steal from Jehnna's court?" Conan questioned the brigand. "It must be of considerable worth to endure weeks in the saddle to reach Luxor from Shadizar."

Karela swung her leg over the horse's neck and landed nimbly beside her steed. As Conan expected, the bandit was dressed in skintight chamois leather that clung to and revealed Karela's ample curves splendidly. The barbarian found herself staring at Karela's large, firm rump as she undid a saddlebag, recalling how those firm buttocks had glowed red and rippled under her palm when she had chastised Karela with a well-deserved over-the-knee spanking.

"Here, a piece of a so-called god that was locked away and heavily guarded beneath the royal palace," Karela boasted as she drew forth the artefact. "I had to employ all of my cunning and skill to breach the defences of Shadizar's vaults and steal it away."

The bandit turned and revealed her prize, eliciting a gasp of surprise and recognition from Conan. It was a horn, banded in gold, set with rubies and inscribed in runes and sigils of some long-forgotten language. The tapered horn was about as long as Conan's forearm and as thick as her wrist at its base. Conan herself had wrenched the horn free from the head of the monstrous god Dagoth when she still possessed the immense strength of arm of which she was famed.