She sat up, her gaze fixed on a rail, over which, to her amazement, a dripping figure clambered. Her dark eyes opened wide, her red lips parted in an O of surprise. The intruder was a stranger to her. Water ran in rivulets from his great shoulders and down his heavy arms. His single garment- a pair of bright crimson silk breeks- was soaking wet, as was his gold-buckled girdle and the sheathed sword it supported. As he stood at the rail, the rising sun etched him like a great bronze statue. He ran his fingers through his streaming black mane, and his blue eye lit as they rested on the girl.From "The Pool of the Black One"
Page 163-4. The Complete Chronicles of CONAN.
Artwork displayed with the kind permission of the artist, Memed .
Please check out his web page HERE for more of his work.
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