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80+ ADVENTURE TALES OF ROBERT E. HOWARD - The Ultimate Action-Packed Collection: Historical Fantasy Classics, Crime Novels, Pirate Tales and more Sword & Sorcery Fiction Including Complete Conan the Barbarian, Solomon Kane, Kull the Conqueror and Bran Mak Morn Series von Howard, Robert E. (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 28.11.2016
  • Verlag: e-artnow
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80+ ADVENTURE TALES OF ROBERT E. HOWARD - The Ultimate Action-Packed Collection: Historical Fantasy Classics, Crime Novels, Pirate Tales and more

This carefully crafted ebook: '80+ ADVENTURE TALES OF ROBERT E. HOWARD - The Ultimate Action-Packed Collection: Historical Fantasy Classics, Crime Novels, Pirate Tales and more' is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents. Table of Contents: 'Conan the Barbarian' Saga: Cimmeria The Hyborian Age The Frost Giant's Daughter The God in the Bowl The Tower of the Elephant Rogues in the House Shadows in the Moonlight Black Colossus Queen of the Black Coast The Slithering Shadow A Witch Shall Be Born The Devil in Iron The People of the Black Circle Shadows in Zamboula The Pool of the Black One Beyond the Black River The Black Stranger Red Nails Jewels of Gwahlur The Phoenix on the Sword The Scarlet Citadel The Hour of the Dragon The 'Kull' Saga: The King and the Oak The Shadow Kingdom The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune Kings of the Night The 'Solomon Kane' Saga: Red Shadows Skulls In The Stars Rattle Of Bones The Moon Of Skulls The Hills Of The Dead The Footfalls Within Wings In The Night The 'Bran Mak Morn' Saga: Kings Of The Night Worms Of The Earth The Children Of The Night The 'Turlogh Dubh O'Brien' Saga: The Dark Man The Gods Of Bal-Sagoth The 'James Allison' Saga: The Valley Of The Worm The Garden Of Fear The 'Sailor Steve Costigan' Saga: The Pit Of The Serpent The Bull-Dog Breed Sailor's Grudge Fist And Fang The Iron Man Winner Take All Waterfront Fists Champ Of The Forecastle Alleys Of Peril The TNT Punch Texas Fists The Sign Of The Snake Blow The Chinks Down! Breed Of Battle Circus Fists... The 'El Borak' Series The 'Cormac Fitzgeoffrey' Series The 'Kirby O'Donnell' Series The 'Black Vulmea' Saga The 'Steve Harrison' Series The 'Wild Bill Clanton' Collection Robert Howard (1906-1936) was an American author who wrote pulp fiction in a diverse range of genres.


    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: watermark
    Seitenzahl: 4110
    Erscheinungsdatum: 28.11.2016
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9788026870326
    Verlag: e-artnow
    Größe: 4169 kBytes
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80+ ADVENTURE TALES OF ROBERT E. HOWARD - The Ultimate Action-Packed Collection: Historical Fantasy Classics, Crime Novels, Pirate Tales and more

The Frost Giant's Daughter (Gods of the North)

Table of Contents
THE clangor of the swords had died away, the shouting of the slaughter was hushed; silence lay on the red-stained snow. The bleak pale sun that glittered so blindingly from the ice-fields and the snow- covered plains struck sheens of silver from rent corselet and broken blade, where the dead lay as they had fallen. The nerveless hand yet gripped the broken hilt; helmeted heads, back-drawn in the death throes, tilted red beards and golden beards grimly upward, as if in last invocation to Ymir the frost-giant, god of a warrior-race.

Across the red drifts and mail-clad forms, two figures glared at each other. In that utter desolation only they moved. The frosty sky was over them, the white illimitable plain around them, the dead men at their feet. Slowly through the corpses they came, as ghosts might come to a tryst through the shambles of a dead world. In the brooding silence they stood face to face.

Both were tall men, built like tigers. Their shields were gone, their corselets battered and dented. Blood dried on their mail; their swords were stained red. Their horned helmets showed the marks of fierce strokes. One was beardless and blackmaned. The locks and beard of the other were red as the blood on the sunlit snow.

'Man,' said he, 'tell me your name, so that my brothers in Vanaheim may know who was the last of Wulfllere's band to fall before the sword of Heimdul.'

'Not in Vanaheim,' growled the black-haired warrior, 'but in Valhalla will you tell your brothers that you met Conan of Cimmeria.'

Heimdul roared and leaped, and his sword flashed in a deathly arc. Conan staggered and his vision was filled with red sparks as the singing blade crashed on his helmet, shivering into bits of blue fire. But as he reeled he thrust with all the power of his broad shoulders behind the humming blade. The sharp point tore through brass scales and bones and heart, and the red-haired warrior died at Conan's feet.

The Cimmerian stood upright, trailing his sword, a sudden sick weariness assailing him. The glare of the sun on the snow cut his eyes like a knife and the sky seemed shrunken and strangely apart. He turned away from the trampled expanses where yellow-bearded warriors lay locked with red-haired slayers in the embrace of death. A few steps he took, and the glare of the snow-fields was suddenly dimmed. A rushing wave of blindness engulfed him and he sank down into the snow, supporting himself on one mailed arm, seeking to shake the blindness out of his eyes as a lion might shake his mane.

A silvery laugh cut through his dizziness, and his sight cleared slowly. He looked up; there was a strangeness about all the landscape that he could not place or define-an unfamiliar tinge to earth and sky. But he did not think long of this. Before him, swaying like a sapling in the wind, stood a woman. Her body was like ivory to his dazed eyes, and save for a light veil of gossamer, she was naked as the day. Her slender bare feet were whiter than the snow they spurned. She laughed down at the bewildered warrior. Her laughter was sweeter than the rippling of silvery fountains, and poisonous with cruel mockery.

'Who are you?' asked the Cimmerian. 'Whence come you?'

'What matter?' Her voice was more musical than a silver-stringed harp, but it was edged with cruelty.

'Call up your men,' said he, grasping his sword. 'Yet though my strength fail me, they shall not take me alive. I see that you are of the Vanir.'

'Have I said so?'

His gaze went again to her unruly locks, which at first glance he had thought to be red. Now he saw that they were neither red nor yellow, but a glorious compound of both colors. He gazed spell-bound. Her hair was like elfin-gold; the sun struck it so dazzingly that he could scarcely bear to look upon it. Her eyes were likewise neither wholly blue

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