Robert E. Howard was a master of violent fantasy. His imagination saw no bounds. No doubt will his stories be read more than a hundred years after his untimely demise. The following narration of a treasure chamber filled with gold, jewels and Death is a fantasy injection we all need once and awhile.
Shevatas was wiry and lithe, as became a master-thief of Zamora….… This was Shevatas, a thief among thieves, whose name was spoken with awe in the dives of the Maul and the dim shadowy recesses beneath the temples of Bel, and who lived in songs and myths for a thousand years.
"Gingerly stepping
over it (the reptile), the thief thrust against the door, which this
time slid aside, revealing the interior of the dome. Shevatas cried out;
instead of utter darkness he had come into a crimson light that throbbed and
pulsed almost beyond the endurance of mortal eyes. It came from a gigantic red
jewel high up in the vaulted arch of the dome. Shevatas gaped, inured though he
was to the sight of riches. The treasure was there, heaped in staggering
profusion—piles of diamonds, sapphires, rubies, turquoises, opals, emeralds;
zikkurats of jade, jet and lapis lazuli; pyramids of gold wedges; teocallis of
silver ingots; jewel-hilted swords in cloth-of-gold sheaths; golden helmets
with colored horsehair crests, or black and scarlet plumes; silver scaled
corselets; gem-crusted harness worn by warrior-kings three thousand years in
their tombs; goblets carven of single jewels; skulls plated with gold, with
moonstones for eyes; necklaces of human teeth set with jewels. The ivory floor
was covered inches deep with gold dust that sparkled and shimmered under the
crimson glow with a million scintillant lights. The thief stood in a wonderland
of magic and splendor, treading stars under his sandalled feet. "
Ingen kommentarer:
Legg inn en kommentar