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

two. Believe me, noble captain, I know whereof I speak!"

"Oh, all right," grumbled Conan.

"Excellent! I knew that so superior a mind as yours would see the
force of my arguments. And now we part, to meet again at the
foot of the valley at moonrise. That should occur about one
double hour hence, which will give us ample time for our
rendezvous."

3.
The night grew darker and the wind, colder. All the eery
premonitions of danger, which Conan had experience since first
entering this forsaken vale at sundown, returned in full force.
As he walked silently beside the diminutive Khitan, he cast wary
glances into the darkness. The steep rock walls on either side
narrowed until there was hardly room to walk between the
cliffside and the banks of the stream which gurgled out of the
valley at their feet.

Behind them, a glow appeared in the misty sky where the heads of
the cliffs thrust blackly up against the firmament. This glow
grew stronger and became a pearly opalescence. The walls of the
valley fell away on either hand, and the two men found themselves
treading a grassy sward that spread out on both sides. The
stream angled off to the right and, gurgling, curved out of sight
between banks clustered with ferns.

As they issued from the valley, the half moon rose over the
cliffs behind them. In the misty air, it looked as if the viewer
were seeing it from under water. The wan, illusive light of this
moon shone upon a small, rounded hill, which rose out of the
sward directly before them. Beyond it, steep-sided, forest-
crested hills stood up blackly in the watery moonlight.

As the moon cast a powdering of silver over the hill before them,
Conan forgot his premonitions. For here rose the monolith of
which Feng had spoken. It was a smooth, dully glistening shaft
of dark stone, which rose from the top of the hill and soared up
until it pierced the layer of mist that overhung the land. The
top of the shaft appeared as a mere blur.

Here, then, was the tomb of the long-dead King Hsia, just as Feng
had foretold. The treasure must be buried either directly
beneath it or to one side. They would soon find out which.

With Feng's crowbar and shovel on his shoulder, Conan pushed
forcefully through a clump of tough, elastic rhododendron bushes
and started up the hill. HE paused to give his small companion a
hand up. After a brief scramble, they gained the top of the