Opravy

Once again I found myself trying to improve my English writing skill by using Robert E. Howard’s work.

I just want to make clear that the following is just an exercise in which I took Howard’s tales and narrated them from my perspective, inventing very little .

I would really love to receive any feedback you can give me, guys  thanks for reading my exercise A Veil Left in a Frozen Plain-Part Two “Tell me your name outlander, so that once I’ll feast and drink from your pretty skull my brothers may know who’s been the last one to fall under Heimdul’s long axe!” And a very unusual, amused laugh followed those arrogant words of mockery.

“Not in the safe warm of your house but in the unpleasant hall of Valhalla will you tell your brothers that you’ve met Conan of Cimmeria!” Thus answered the indomitable barbarian and with an inhuman speed he stepped forward in Heimdul’s direction like a wilde wolf hunting in the woods, sword in hand.

There was a swift clangour of sword and axe which then died away with the same velocity of a kiss made by no soft and tasty lips, but of steel and flesh.

With a deaf sound and a lifeless expression on his face, Heimdul fell down before Conan’s feet, for he had been ran through by the aquilonian broadsword.

A snarly expression was drawn on Conan’s face, that sort of excitement which comes from the physical agony of the battle.

Extracting his broadsword from the dead body, he decapitated Heimdul getting ditch of his head on the ground.

Thus he humiliated Heimdul’s corpse.

Conan glanced at his sword which was full of blood gutters.

Now that another colossus had died and other blood was lust on the purity of the snow, Conan said:” Northern bastard!” Faintly falling on his knees.

The sun was now shining and gasping for his wounds he looked at the black crows while they were eagerly feasting upon a banquet made of corpses.

The snow was cold like always.

Absently leaving his broadsword on the ground he laid on his back: for all the day he had been harvesting lives and now felt like life was running away from him, slowly abandoning him like a cruel and lascivious woman who no longer corresponded his love.

Conan feared women more than he feared death itself.

In his life he had held too many women between his arms, but now the memory of a carnal coitus made him feeling even more miserable and pitiful.

The frosty touch of the snow on his right ear was annoying, he had rather preferred a woman’s caress.

Turning his head on the right he saw something weird, bloody weird, coming in his direction.

A beautiful woman sensuously irresistible with long red locks and a slender ivory body was approaching him: an impetuous stunning dawn who walked slowly on the snow, naked as the day save for a light veil of gossamer which descended from her shoulders till her knees.

As she walked her bare feet seemed not to live any imprint on the ground they spurned.

That frozen flame of beauty got nearer and nearer till Conan could see her laughing with a silvery expression.

That laugh showed a glorious compound of colours: the deep red of her lips, the hypnotic green of her eyes and the half pale colour of her skin.

Conan got up now reinvigorated...