The Hour of the DragonHoward, Robert E. (Robert Ervin)
Science
The Hour of the Dragon
Howard, Robert E. (Robert Ervin)
Conan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction, American
'This has passed,' answered Zelata imperturbably, though somberly. 'It
was the evening of the day that has passed when Prospero rode out of
Tarantia, with the hosts of Amalric almost within sight. From the walls
men saw the flame of their pillaging. So I read it in the smoke. At
sunset the Nemedians rode into Tarantia, unopposed. Look! Even now, in
the royal hall of Tarantia----'
Abruptly Conan was looking into the great coronation hall. Valerius
stood on the regal dais, clad in ermine robes, and Amalric, still in his
dusty, blood-stained armor, placed a rich and gleaming circlet on his
yellow locks--the crown of Aquilonia! The people cheered; long lines of
steel-clad Nemedian warriors looked grimly on, and nobles long in
disfavor at Conan's court strutted and swaggered with the emblem of
Valerius on their sleeves.
'Crom!' It was an explosive imprecation from Conan's lips as he started
up, his great fists clenched into hammers, his veins on his temples
knotting, his features convulsed. 'A Nemedian placing the crown of
Aquilonia on that renegade--in the royal hall of Tarantia!'
As if dispelled by his violence, the smoke faded, and he saw Zelata's
black eyes gleaming at him through the mist.
'You have seen--the people of your capital have forfeited the freedom
you won for them by sweat and blood; they have sold themselves to the
slavers and the butchers. They have shown that they do not trust their
destiny. Can you rely upon them for the winning back of your kingdom?'
'They thought I was dead,' he grunted, recovering some of his poise. 'I
have no son. Men can't be governed by a memory. What if the Nemedians
have taken Tarantia? There still remain the provinces, the barons, and
the people of the countrysides. Valerius has won an empty glory.'
'You are stubborn, as befits a fighter. I cannot show you the future, I
cannot show you all the past. Nay, _I_ show you nothing. I merely make
you see windows opened in the veil by powers unguessed. Would you look
into the past for a clue of the present?'
'Aye.' He seated himself abruptly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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