Monday Robert E. Howard: The Phoenix On the Sword

Know, oh prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the Sons of Aryas, there was an age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world like blue mantles beneath the stars…

The first Conan story was a reworking of the last Kull story.  It was a tale of the great adventurer’s later days, long after he’d won his kingdom, and wore the crown of Aquilonia upon a troubled brow.  But even as a middle-aged monarch, Conan is still Conan.

What do I know of cultured ways, the gilt, the craft and the lie?
I, who was born in a naked land and bred in the open sky.
The subtle tongue, the sophist guile, they fail when the broadswords sing;
Rush in and die, dogs–I was a man before I was a king.

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