In the Forest of Villefore

Ein Beitrag von Robert E. Howard

The sun had set. The great shadows came striding over the forest. In the weird twilight of a late summer day, I saw the path ahead glide on among the mighty trees and disappear. And I shuddered and glanced fearfully over my shoulder. Miles behind lay the nearest village--miles ahead the next.

I looked to left and to right as I strode on, and anon I looked behind me. And anon I stopped short, grasping my rapier, as a breaking twig betokened the going of some small beast. Or was it a beast?

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The Sowers of the Thunder

Ein Beitrag von Robert E. Howard

The Sowers of the Thunder

                 Iron winds and ruin and flame.
And a Horseman shaking with giant mirth;
                                Over the corpse-strewn, blackened earth
                                                        Death, stalking naked, came
                                  Like a storm-cloud shattering the ships;
                                                            Yet the Rider seated high.
                                         Paled at the smile on a dead king's lips.
                                                     As the tall white horse went by.
   --The Ballad of Baibars

CHAPTER 1
The idlers in the tavern glanced up at the figure framed in the doorway. It was a tall broad man who stood there, with the torch-lit shadows and the clamor of the bazaars at his back. His garments were simple tunic, and short breeches of leather; a camel's-hair mantle hung from his broad shoulders and sandals were on his feet. But belying the garb of the peaceful traveler, a short straight stabbing sword hung at his girdle. One massive arm, ridged with muscles, was outstretched, the brawny hand gripping a pilgrim's staff, as the man stood, powerful legs wide braced, in the doorway. His bare legs were hairy, knotted like tree trunks. His coarse red locks were confined by a single band of blue cloth, and from his square dark face, his strange blue eyes blazed with a kind of reckless and wayward mirth, reflected by the half-smile that curved his thin lips.

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