"Camp & Lin Carter - Conan Of Cimmeria - 01 - The Curse Of The Monolith" - читать интересную книгу автора (Camp L. Sprague de)

rugged riding and camping, and drenched his exquisite person in
heavy perfume. He never soiled his soft, long-nailed hands with
any of the camp chores, but instead kept his two servants busy
day and night ministering to his comfort and dignity.

Conan looked down upon the Khitan's habits with a bard-bitten
barbarian's manly contempt. The duke's slanting black eyes and
purring voice reminded him of a cat, and he often told himself to
watch this little princeling for treachery. On the other hand,
he secretly envied the Khitan his exquisitely cultivated manners
and easy charm. This fact led Conan to resent the duke even
more; for, although his Turanian service had given Conan some
slight polish, he was still at heart the blunt, boorish young
barbarian. He would have to be careful of this sly little Duke
Feng.

2.
"Do I disturb the profound meditations of the nobly born
commander?", purred a soft voice.

Conan started and snatched at the hilt of his tulwar before he
recognized the person of Duke Feng, wrapped to the lip in a
voluminous cloak of pea-green velvet. Conan started to growl a
contemptuous curse. Then, remembering his ambassadorial duties,
he turned the oath into a formal welcome that sounded
unconvincing even in his own ears.

"Perhaps the princely captain is unable to sleep?" murmured Feng,
appearing not to notice Conan's ungraciousness. Feng spoke
fluent Hyrkanian. This was one reason for his having been
dispatched to guide Conan's troop, for Conan's command of the
singsong Khitan tongue was little more than a smattering. Feng
continued:

"This person is so fortunate as to possess a sovereign remedy for
sleeplessness. A gifted apothecary concocted it for me from an
ancient recipe: a decoction of lily buds ground into cinnamon and
spiced with poppy seeds..."

"No, nothing," growled Conan. "I thank you, Duke, but it's
something about this accursed place. Some uncanny premonition
keeps me wakeful when, after a long day's ride, I should be as
weary as a stripling after his first night's bout of love."

The duke's features moved a trifle, as if he winced at Conan's
crudity or was it merely a flicker of the firelight? In any
case, he suavely replied, "I think I understand the misgivings of
the excellent commander. Nor are such disquieting emotions
unusual in this ah this legend-fraught valley. Many men have
perished here."