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Book Details

Conan the Conqueror

78.6% complete
1967
2020
1 time
Conan (Fictitious character) - Fiction
Fantasy fiction
Fiction in English
See 22
1 - O Sleeper, Awake!
2 - A Black Wind Blows
3 - The Cliffs Reel
4 - "From What Hell Have You Crawled?"
5 - The Haunter of the Pits
6 - The Thrust of a Knife
7 - The Rending of the Veil
8 - Dying Embers
9 - "It Is the King or His Ghost!"
10 - A Coin from Acheron
11 - Swords of the South
12 - The Fang of the Dragon
13 - "A Ghost out of the Past"
14 - The Black Hand of Set
15 - The Return of the Corsair
16 - The Black-Walled Khemi
17 - "He Has Slain the Sacred Son of Set!"
18 - "I Am the Woman Who Never Died"
19 - In the Hall of the Dead
20 - Out of the Dust Shall Acheron Arise
21 - Drums of Peril
22 - The Road to Acheron
Book Cover
Has a genre Has an extract Has a year read Has a rating In my library In a series 
2302
 Conan*
#9 of 12
Conan*     See series as if on a bookshelf
A series of books about Conan the Cimmerian written by Robert E Howard, L Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter.  This is the core series of books which are all from or based on stories or notes by Robert E Howard.

1) Conan
2) Conan of Cimmeria
3) Conan the Freebooter
4) Conan the Wanderer
5) Conan the Adventurer
6) Conan the Buccaneer
7) Conan the Warrior
8) Conan the Usurper
9) Conan the Conqueror
10) Conan the Avenger
11) Conan of Aquilonia
12) Conan of the Isles
Copyright © 1967 by L. Sprague de Camp
No dedication.
The long tapers flickered, sending the black shadows wavering along the walls, and the velvet tapestries rippled.
May contain spoilers
She was a slave in Nemedia, but I will make her queen of Aquilonia!"
No comments on file
Extract (may contain spoilers)
Conan lay still, enduring the weight of his chains and the despair of his position with the stoicism of the wilds that had bred him.  He did not move, because the jangle of his chains, when he shifted his body, sounded startlingly loud in the darkness and stillness, and it was his instinct, born of a thousand wilderness-bred ancestors, not to betray his position in his helplessness.  This did not result from a logical reasoning process, he did not lie quiet because he reasoned that the darkness hid lurking dangers that might discover him in his helplessness.  This did not result from a logical reasoning process; he did not lie quiet because he reasoned that the darkness hid lurking dangers that might discover him in his helplessness.  Xaltotun had assured him that he was not to be harmed, and Conan believed that it was in the man's interest to preserve him, at least for the time being.  But the instincts of the wild were there, that had caused him in his childhood to lie hidden and silent while wild beasts prowled about his covert.

Even his keen eyes could not pierce the solid darkness.  Yet after a while, after a period of time he had no way of estimating, a faint glow became apparent, a sort of slanting gray beam, by which Conan could see, vaguely, the bars of the door at his elbow, and even make out the skeleton of the other grille.  This puzzled him, until at last he realized the explanation.  He was far below ground in the pits below the palace; yet for some reason a shaft had been constructed from somewhere above.  Outside the moon had risen to a point where its light slanted dimly down the shaft.  He reflected that in this manner he could tell the passing of the days and nights.  Perhaps the sun was a subtle method of torture, allowing a prisoner but a glimpse of daylight or moonlight.

His gaze fell on the broken bones in the farther corner, glimmering dimly.  He did not tax his brain with futile speculation as to who the wretch had been and for what reason he had been doomed, but he wondered at the shattered condition of the bones.  They had not been broken on a rack.  Then, as he looked, another unsavory detail made itself evident.  The shin-bones were split lengthwise, and there was but one explanation; they had been broken in that manner in order to obtain the marrow.  Yet what creature but man breaks bones for their marrow?  Perhaps those remnants were mute evidence of a horrible, cannibalistic feast, of some wretch driven to madness, by starvation.  Conan wondered if his own bones would be found at some future date, hanging in their rusty chains.  He fought down the unreasoning panic of a trapped wolf.

The Cimmerian did not curse, scream, weep, or rave as a civilized man might have done.  But the pain and turmoil in his bosom were none the less fierce.  His great limbs quivered with the intensity of his emotions.  Somewhere, far to the westward, the Nemedian host was slashing and burning its way through the heart of his kingdom.  The small host of the Poitanians could not stand before them.  Prospero might be able to hold Tarantia for weeks, or months; but eventually, if not relieved, he must surrender to greater numbers.  Surely the barons would rally to him against the invaders.  But in the meanwhile he, Conan, must lie helpless in a darkened cell, while others led his spears and fought for his kingdom.  The king ground his powerful teeth in red rage.

 

Added: 30-Jul-2019
Last Updated: 28-Sep-2024

Publications

 01-May-1977
Ace
Mass Market Paperback
In my libraryI read this editionOrder from amazon.comHas a cover imageBook Edition Cover
Date Issued:
Cir 01-May-1977
Format:
Mass Market Paperback
Cover Price:
$1.95
Pages*:
224
Catalog ID:
11679-5
Read:
Once
Reading(s):
1)   23 Oct 2020 - 4 Nov 2020
Internal ID:
13141
Publisher:
ISBN:
0-441-11679-5
ISBN-13:
978-0-441-11679-9
Country:
United States
Language:
English
Credits:
Frank Frazetta  - Cover Artist
CONAN
THE CONQUEROR


His body a prisoner of chains that not even his colossal limbs could tear asunder; his mind commanded by Xaltotum, demonic master of black magic, Conan the Cimmerian, King of Aquilonia, blasts his way to victory in this thrilling novel of fantasy-adventure.

"...Howard's words rang like strokes of brazen sledges on the anvil of some war-god's smithy!  This is not mere narration - his scenes of carnage evoke an almost tangible smell of blood.  Our ears are deafened by the clash of sword and war-axe on buckler and mail.  We flee, half mad with fear, through night-black, adder-haunted swamps..."
ROY G. KRENKEL
Cover:
Book CoverBook Back CoverBook Spine
Notes and Comments:
No printing stated
Image File
01-May-1977
Ace
Mass Market Paperback

Related

Author(s)

 Robert E Howard
Birth: 22 Jan 1906 Peaster, Texas, USA
Death: 11 Jun 1936

Awards

No awards found
*
  • I try to maintain page numbers for audiobooks even though obviously there aren't any. I do this to keep track of pages read and I try to use the Kindle version page numbers for this.
  • Synopses marked with an asterisk (*) were generated by an AI. There aren't a lot since this is an iffy way to do it - AI seems to make stuff up.
  • When specific publication dates are unknown (ie prefixed with a "Cir"), I try to get the publication date that is closest to the specific printing that I can.
  • When listing chapters, I only list chapters relevant to the story. I will usually leave off Author Notes, Indices, Acknowledgements, etc unless they are relevant to the story or the book is non-fiction.
  • Page numbers on this site are for the end of the main story. I normally do not include appendices, extra material, and other miscellaneous stuff at the end of the book in the page count.






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