Conan The Victorious by Robert Jordan

Author:Robert Jordan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy fiction, Fiction, Fantasy, Conan (Fictitious character), General, Epic
ISBN: 9780765350671
Publisher: Tor Fantasy
Published: 2010-08-03T17:06:16.405000+00:00

desperate men tensed to meet him. But a pace short of them, the warrior suddenly leaped to his right,attacking. The rogues Naipal had gathered may have thought their formation made them infantry, but theyhad no shields to protect them. Two fell, bloodied and twitching, before the ranks could wheel under thedeserters' shouted instructions. The resurrected warrior did not wait for them, however. As the linespivoted, he leaped back the other way and dashed into their midst from the flank. The deserters' smallorder dissolved in a melee of hacking steel, welling blood and screaming men, each fighting frantically forhimself alone, each dying as the ancient warrior's flashing blade reached him.

When the leather-armored figure slit the throat of the last kicking wretch, Naipal breathed deep inwondering satisfaction. Twenty corpses littered the crimson-splashed sand, and the reborn warrior stoodunharmed. In truth there were rents in the studded leather of his armor, and his teeth could be seenthrough a gash that laid open his cheek, but not a drop of blood fell from him. He moved among thebodies, making sure that each was actually dead, as though no blade had ever touched him.

Turning his back on the scene below, the wizard sagged against the bars, laughing until he wheezed forbreath. Everything the ancient writings had claimed was true. The wounds would heal quickly. Nothingcould slay the warrior he had resurrected.

More than two thousand years earlier, a conqueror called Orissa had carved a score of small nations andcity-states into the kingdom of Vendhya, with himself as its first king. And when King Orissa died, anarmy of twenty thousand warriors was entombed with him, a royal bodyguard for the afterlife, preservedso perfectly by intricate thaumaturgies that though they no longer lived, neither were they dead asordinary men died. With the proper rituals, life could be restored after a fashion, and an army that couldnot die would march again. All that was necessary was to find the centuries-lost tomb.

"And that," Naipal laughed, loud and mocking, "is all but done, is it not, Masrok, my faithful servant?"

Success so filled him with ebullience that the stupefying fear of the past few days was swept away.Certainly enough time had passed. On whatever waters that vessel rode, if it was near enough to threatenhim when he was so close to his goals, it must have made shore by now. And if it had, surely whateverdanger it carried had been dealt with by his myrmidons. He would admit no other thought, not when somany victories were already his on this day.

With a firm hand he raised the carven ivory lid and brushed back the silken coverings. Black was thesurface of the mirror, and dotted with tiny points of light. It took a moment for Naipal to realize that hesaw a vast array of campfires, viewed from a great height. If one small ship had threatened him before,now it seemed that an army did. For his days of fear he was repaid with more fear, and with uncertainty.Had the danger of the ship

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