The Scarlet Citadel by Robert E. Howard download in pdf, ePub, iPad
Conan scoffs at the kings and insults them, spitting in Amalrus's eye. Our plans are no concern of yours. The blue-bearded warriors in their light mail shirts could not endure punishment as could the heavier-armored Bossonians. But the great and shining host of Strabonus and Amalrus was hacked out of existence, and those that fled were less than those that died.
On they fled, the hunted and the hunter, and not a foot could the black stallion gain, though he strained each nerve and thew. Now the attackers were massing for a storm. Thus subtly does the instinct of sovereign responsibility enter even a red-handed plunderer sometimes. While the slaughter yet went on along the river, the final act of a grim drama was being played out in the meadowland beyond.
From them dripped a colorless liquid that he instinctively knew was death. Ruthlessly riding down friend and foe, he gained the southern bank, and then a glance backward showed him a grim figure on a great black stallion in pursuit. With the king dead, each man must protect his own.
An instant's fumbling with the huge locks and he was free. Only one narrow street, paved with marble and guarded by heavy iron gates, led up to it, where it crowned the hill dominating the city.
Besides, avaricious nobles would plunder Poitain behind his back, while he was fighting the Kothians. Swooping down from the sky, it drove at the head of Tsotha's steed, which screamed and reared, throwing its rider.
The tunnels were not silent. But he was drunk with power, and laughed in their faces.
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