"Robert E. Howard - Conan - Rogues In The House" - читать интересную книгу автора (Howard Robert E)

"In the pits under the Red Priest's house; but why--"

"What is the time?"

"Not long after midnight."

Murilo shook his head, trying to assemble his scattered wits.

"What are you doing here?" demanded the Cimmerian.

"I came to kill Nabonidus. I heard they had changed the guard at your
prison--"

"They did," growled Conan. "I broke the new jailer's head and walked out.
I would have been here hours agone, but I had some personal business to
attend to. Well, shall we hunt for Nabonidus?"

Murilo shuddered. "Conan, we are in the house of the archfiend! I came
seeking a human enemy; I found a hairy devil out of hell!"

Conan grunted uncertainly; fearless as a wounded tiger as far as human
foes were concerned, he had all the superstitious dreads of the primitive.
 "I gained access to the house," whispered Murilo, as if the darkness were
full of listening ears. "In the outer gardens I found Nabonidus' dog mauled to
death. Within the house I came upon Joka, the servant. His neck had been
broken. Then I saw Nabonidus himself seated in his chair, clad in his
accustomed garb. At first I thought he, too, was dead. I stole up to stab him.
He rose and faced me. God!" The memory of that horror struck the young
nobleman momentarily speechless as he re-lived that awful instant.

"Conan," he whispered, "it was no _man_ that stood before me! In body
and posture it was not unlike a man, but from the scarlet hood of the priest
grinned a face of madness and nightmare! It was covered with black hair,
from which small pig-like eyes glared redly; its nose was flat, with great
flaring nostrils; its loose lips writhed back, disclosing huge yellow fangs, like
the teeth of a dog. The hands that hung from the scarlet sleeves were
misshapen and likewise covered with black hair. All this I saw in one glance,
and then I was overcome with horror; my senses left me and I swooned."

"What then?" muttered the Cimmerian uneasily.

"I recovered consciousness only a short time ago; the monster must have
thrown me into these pits. Conan, I have suspected that Nabonidus was not
wholly human! He is a demon -- a were-thing! By day he moves among
humanity in the guise of men, and by night he takes on his true aspect."

"That's evident," answered Conan. "Everyone knows there are men who
take the form of wolves at will. But why did he kill his servants?"