"L. Sprague De Camp - Conan - The Curse of the Monolith" - читать интересную книгу автора (De Camp L Sprague)

King Yildiz's offer of a treaty of friendship and trade. So the
wise old king had handed Conan a gorgeous scroll of gilded silk.
Thereon were inscribed, in the writhing ideographs of Khitai and
the gracefully slanted characters of Hyrkania, the formal replies
and felicitations of the Khitan king.

Besides a silken purse full of Khitan gold, King Shu had also
furnished Conan with a high noble of his court, to guide them as
far as the western borders of Khitai. But Conan had not liked
this guide, this Duke Feng.

The Khitan was a slim, dainty, foppish little man with a soft,
lisping voice. He wore fantastical silken garments, unsuited to
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,

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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: