"Robert E. Howard - Conan - The Tower Of Elephant" - читать интересную книгу автора (Howard Robert E)

Again the Kothian gaped at him.

"Listen to him!" he shouted jeeringly. "The barbarian is an eagle who would
fly to the jeweled rim of the tower, which is only a hundred and fifty feet
above the earth, with rounded sides slicker than polished glass!"

The Cimmerian glared about, embarrassed at the roar of mocking laughter that
greeted this remark. He saw no particular humor in it and was too new to
civilization to understand its discourtesies. Civilized men are more
discourteous than savages because they know they can be impolite without
having their skulls split, as a general thing. He was bewildered and chagrined
and doubtless would have slunk away, abashed, but the Kothian chose to goad
him further.

"Come, come!" he shouted. "Tell these poor fellows, who have only been thieves
since before you were spawned, tell them how you would steal the gem!"
"There is always a way, if the desire be coupled with courage," answered the
Cimmerian shortly, nettled.

The Kothian chose to take this as a personal slur. His face grew purple with
anger.

"What!" he roared. "You dare tell us our business, and intimate that we are
cowards? Get along; get out of my sight!" And he pushed the Cimmerian
violently.

"Will you mock me and then lay hands on me?" grated the barbarian, his quick
rage leaping up; and he returned the push with an open-handed blow that
knocked his tormenter back against the rude-hewn table. Ale splashed over the
jack's lip, and the Kothian roared in fury, dragging at his sword.

"Heathen dog!" he bellowed. "I'll have your heart for that!"

Steel flashed and the throng surged wildly back out of the way. In their
flight they knocked over the single candle and the den was plunged in
darkness, broken by the crash of upset benches, drum of flying feet, shouts,
oaths of people tumbling over one another, and a single strident yell of agony
that cut the din like a knife. When a candle was relighted, most of the guests
had gone out by doors and broken windows, and the rest huddled behind stacks
of wine kegs and under tables. The barbarian was gone; the center of the room
was deserted except for the gashed body of the Kothian. The Cimmerian, with
the unerring instinct of the barbarian, had killed his man in the darkness and
confusion.

2

The lurid lights and drunken revelry fell away behind the Cimmerian. He had
discarded his torn tunic and walked through the night naked except for a
loincloth and his high-strapped sandals. He moved with the supple ease of a