Conan Now

Tonight, there would be blood and fire and the old, clean joy of battle.

He reached for the hilt of his father’s sword—the one that had tasted the blood of wolves, serpents, and sorcerers. The weight of it felt truer than any scepter. Tonight, there would be blood and fire and

He strode past the throne without a backward glance. Tonight, there would be blood and fire and

And in the morning? If he still lived—he would decide whether to be a king again. Tonight, there would be blood and fire and

And the Picts were about to learn why old men in taverns still whispered the name of the Barbarian King.

He set down the goblet.

Conan stood.