The Hour of the Dragon - Robert E. Howard (great reads .TXT) 📗

class="calibre2">until we meet again in the great royal hall-farewell!”

 

Conan stood silently watching the priest as he went. From various

parts of the field knights were hurrying toward him. He saw

Pallantides, Trocero, Prospero, Servius, Gallannus, their armor

splashed with crimson. The thunder of battle was giving way to a roar

of triumph and acclaim. All eyes, hot with strife and shining with

exultation, were turned toward the great black figure of the king;

mailed arms brandished red-stained swords. A confused torrent of sound

rose, deep and thunderous as the sea-surf: “Hail, Conan, king of

Aquilonia!”

 

Tarascus spoke.

 

“You have not yet named my ransom.”

 

Conan laughed and slapped his sword home in its scabbard. He flexed

his mighty arms, and ran his bloodstained fingers through his thick

black locks, as if feeling there his re-won crown.

 

“There is a girl in your seraglio named Zenobia.”

 

“Why, yes, so there is.”

 

“Very well.” The king smiled as at an exceedingly pleasant memory.

“She shall be your ransom, and naught else. I will come to Belverus

for her as I promised. She was a slave in Nemedia, but I will make her

queen of Aquilonia!”

 

THE END