Swords from the West by Harold Lamb

By Harold Lamb

Beset by means of enemies on each part and torn by way of inner divisions, the crusader kingdoms have been a hotbed of intrigue, the place your maximum best friend will be your traditional enemy. simply because lives and kingdoms frequently rested at the fringe of a sword blade, it was once a time while a daring middle and a gradual hand might see you far—so lengthy as you suspect your back. Here, for the 1st time, are all seventeen of Harold Lamb’s uncollected crusader tales in a single quantity. learn now of the autumn of kingdoms and the destiny of doomed males, of determined battles and courageous comrades, of sensible maids and scheming nobles. subscribe to Nial O’Gordon, a tender crusader driving deep into Asia to fail to remember his prior. enterprise forth with Sir Robert of Antioch to pass blades with the Mongol hordes. sign up for King Richard the Lionhearted for his final conflict. Stand enterprise beside Sir John and his Arab buddy Khalil opposed to a band of traitors. And sail out with Michael Bearn on a venture of vengeance, as he dangers his existence to deliver down a sultan and his state. (20090306)

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He resumed: "If the tribute is not sufficient, we will turn aside and make war upon ye. We will set the red cock crowing. We will build a pyramid of the heads of the slain. Do as thou wilt. It is all one to me. " He loosed the parchment from his fingers, and it coiled itself like a snake upon the table. " The merchant glanced fleetingly at the soldier. " "Then you know the peril in which we stand. Out yonder"-Messer Andrea motioned toward the dark line of hills behind the citadel-"they are riding to the south, God knows why, but"-he smiled bleakly-"I am no lover of ill chance.

He ran no risk in doing so, because these girls were certainly slaves, and as certainly placed here for sale, unveiled. One sat apart from the rest, and the sun struck upon the mass of her red-gold hair. Her drowsy eyes looked up at him curiously. When he asked a brief question, she answered in a low, clear voice. For a moment he weighed the worth of her beauty in his mind, and then, as the swordsman came up, turned away. " "Nay," said Tron impatiently, "she is only a mountain girl, a barbarian.

Aye, so," said Sir Bruce slowly. " The Greek prince threw himself back on his cushions. " But the faded eyes of the Counter-eyes quick and shrewd to weigh men and their moods-gleamed approvingly. "Swear," he whispered. " Sir Bruce smiled. " Messer Andrea nodded swiftly as if closing a bargain. "Good! And now hear me, young sir. There is a path from Tana to the northern caravan road that should be clear of the pagan horsemen. It follows the coast. I am sending thither some men of mine, and they shall guide you.

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