ration [ræʃn], staring [stɛərɪŋ], would [wʋd]
The soldiers sat about the fire, sharing the last of this night’s ration of wine from goatskin bags. Some laughed and boasted of the amorous feats they would do in the silken bagnios of Aghrapur upon their return. Others, weary from a long day’s hard ride, sat silently, staring at the fire and yawning. Soon they would settle down for the night, rolled in their heavy cloaks. With their heads pillowed on saddlebags, they would lie in a loose circle about the hissing fire, while two of their number stood guard with their powerful Hyrkanian bows strung and ready. They sensed nothing of the sinister force that hovered about the valley.
Standing with his back to the nearest of the giant redwoods (стоя /со/ /своей/его/ спиной к ближайшей из гигантских секвой), Conan wrapped his cloak more closely about him against the dank breeze from the heights (Конан запахнул свой плащ более плотно / поплотнее /вокруг него/ от промозглого ветра с вершин). Although his troopers were well-built men of good size, he towered half a head over the tallest of them (хотя его солдаты были хорошо сложенными мужчинами хорошего размера =
giant [ʤaɪənt], although [ɔ:lˈðəu], breadth [bredƟ]
Standing with his back to the nearest of the giant redwoods, Conan wrapped his cloak more closely about him against the dank breeze from the heights. Although his troopers were well-built men of good size, he towered half a head over the tallest of them, while his enormous breadth of shoulder made them seem puny by comparison. His square-cut black mane escaped from below the edges of his spired, turban-wound helmet, and the deep-set blue eyes in his dark, scarred face caught glints of red from the firelight.
Sunk in one of his fits of melancholy gloom, Conan silently cursed King Yildiz (погруженный в один из /его/ приступов меланхоличной депрессии, Конан безмолвно проклинал короля Илдиза), the well-meaning but weak Turanian monarch who had sent him on this ill-omened mission (исполненного благих намерений: хорошо-подразумевающего», но слабого туранского монарха, который послал его на/в это предвещающее беду задание/миссию;
princess [prɪnˈses], enough [ɪˈnʌf], horde [hɔ: d]
Sunk in one of his fits of melancholy gloom, Conan silently cursed King Yildiz, the well-meaning but weak Turanian monarch who had sent him on this ill-omened mission. Over a year had passed since he had taken the oath of allegiance to the king of Turan. Six months before, he had been lucky enough to earn this king’s favor; with the help of a fellow-mercenary, Juma the Kushite, he had rescued Yildiz’s daughter Zosara from the mad god-king of Meru. He had brought the princess, more or less intact, to her affianced bridegroom, Khan Kujala of the nomadic Kuigar horde.
When Conan returned to Yildiz’s glittering capital of Aghrapur, he had found the monarch generous enough in his gratitude (когда Конан вернулся в блистающую столицу Илдиза — Аграпур, он нашел монарха щедрым достаточно =
captain [ˈkæptɪn], guard [ɡɑ: d], mission [mɪʃn]
When Conan returned to Yildiz’s glittering capital of Aghrapur, he had found the monarch generous enough in his gratitude. Both he and Juma had been raised to captain. But, whereas Juma had obtained a coveted post in the Royal Guard, Conan had been rewarded with yet another arduous, perilous mission. Now, as he recalled these events, he sourly contemplated the fruits of success.
Yildiz had entrusted the Cimmerian giant with a letter to King Shu of Kusan, a minor kingdom in western Khitai (Илдиз доверил киммерийскому гиганту письмо к королю Шу /повелителю/ Кусана, небольшого королевства в западном Кхитае). At the head of forty veterans, Conan had accomplished the immense journey (во главе сорока ветеранов Конан совершил бесконечное путешествие). He had traversed hundreds of leagues of bleak Hyrkanian steppe and skirted the foothills of the towering Talakma Mountains (он преодолел сотни лиг суровой гирканской степи и обогнул подножия высоких Талакмийских гор). He had threaded his way through the windy deserts and swampy jungles bordering the mysterious realm of Khitai, the easternmost land of which the men of the West had heard (он прокладывал свой путь через ветреные =
forty [fɔ: tɪ], swampy [swɔmpɪ], jungles [ʤʌŋɡlz]
Yildiz had entrusted the Cimmerian giant with a letter to King Shu of Kusan, a minor kingdom in western Khitai. At the head of forty veterans, Conan had accomplished the immense journey. He had traversed hundreds of leagues of bleak Hyrkanian steppe and skirted the foothills of the towering Talakma Mountains. He had threaded his way through the windy deserts and swampy jungles bordering the mysterious realm of Khitai, the easternmost land of which the men of the West had heard.
Arrived in Kusan at last (прибыв наконец в Кусан;
king [kɪŋ], scroll [skrəul], character [ˈkærɪktə]
Arrived in Kusan at last, Conan had found the venerable and philosophical King Shu a splendid host. While Conan and his warriors were plied with exotic food and drink and furnished with willing concubines, the king and his advisers decided to accept King Yildiz’s offer of a treaty of friendship and trade. So the wise old king had handed Conan a gorgeous scroll of gilded silk. Thereon were inscribed, in the writhing ideographs of Khitai and the gracefully slanted characters of Hyrkania, the formal replies and felicitations of the Khitan king.
Besides a silken purse full of Khitan gold, King Shu had also furnished Conan with a high noble of his court (кроме шелкового кошеля, полного кхитайского золота, король Шу также снабдил Конана высокопоставленным аристократом его двора), to guide them as far as the western borders of Khitai (чтобы провести их /аж/ до: «так далеко, как» — западных границ Кхитая). But Conan had not liked this guide, this Duke Feng (но Конану не понравился этот проводник, этот князь Фэн).
full [fʋl], also [ˈɔ: lsəu], court [kɔ: t]
Besides a silken purse full of Khitan gold, King Shu had also furnished Conan with a high noble of his court, to guide them as far as the western borders of Khitai. But Conan had not liked this guide, this Duke Feng.
The Khitan was a slim, dainty, foppish little man with a soft, lisping voice (кхитаец был тонким, изящным, фатоватым маленьким человеком =
instead [ɪnˈsted], busy [ˈbɪzɪ], night [naɪt]
The Khitan was
Conan looked down upon the Khitan’s habits with a hard-bitten barbarian’s manly contempt (Конан смотрел свысока на привычки кхитайца со стойким варварским мужским презрением;
duke [dju: k], slight [slaɪt], careful [kɛəfʋl]
Conan looked down upon the Khitan’s habits with a hard-bitten barbarian’s manly contempt. The duke’s slanting black eyes and purring voice reminded him of a cat, and he often told himself to watch this little princeling for treachery. On the other hand, he secretly envied the Khitan his exquisitely cultivated manners and easy charm. This fact led Conan to resent the duke even more; for, although his Turanian service had given Conan some slight polish, he was still at heart the blunt, boorish young barbarian. He would have to be careful of this sly little Duke Feng.
‘Do I disturb the profound meditations of the nobly born commander?’ purred a soft voice (/не/ мешаю /ли/ я глубоким размышлениям благородно рожденного командира =
Conan started and snatched at the hilt of his tulwar before he recognized the person of Duke Feng, wrapped to the lip in a voluminous cloak of pea-green velvet (Конан вздрогнул и схватился за рукоять своего тульвара,[6] прежде чем он узнал личность князя Фэна, закутанного до губ в толстый плащ из светло-зеленого бархата). Conan started to growl a contemptuous curse (Конан начал рычать =
person [pə: sn], cloak [kləuk], own [əun]
‘Do I disturb the profound meditations of the nobly born commander?’ purred a soft voice.
Conan started and snatched at the hilt of his tulwar before he recognized the person of Duke Feng, wrapped to the lip in a voluminous cloak of pea-green velvet. Conan started to growl a contemptuous curse. Then, remembering his ambassadorial duties, he turned the oath into a formal welcome that sounded unconvincing even in his own ears.
‘Perhaps the princely captain is unable to sleep?’ murmured Feng, appearing not to notice Conan’s ungraciousness (может, благородный капитан не может спать? — прошептал Фэн, казалось, не замечая: «кажущийся не замечать» — недоброжелательности Конана;
‘This person is so fortunate as to possess a sovereign remedy for sleeplessness (этот человек так удачлив, чтобы обладать =
fortunate [ˈfɔ: tʃnɪt], possess [pəˈzes], sovereign [ˈsɔvrɪn]
‘Perhaps the princely captain is unable to sleep?’ murmured Feng, appearing not to notice Conan’s ungraciousness. Feng spoke fluent Hyrkanian. This was one reason for his having been dispatched to guide Conan’s troop, for Conan’s command of the singsong Khitan tongue was little more than a smattering. Feng continued:
‘This person is so fortunate as to possess a sovereign remedy for sleeplessness. A gifted apothecary concocted it for me from an ancient recipe: a decoction of lily buds ground into cinnamon and spiced with poppy seeds…’
‘No, nothing,’ growled Conan (нет, (совсем) нет, — проворчал Конан). ‘I thank you, Duke, but it’s something about this accursed place (/я/ благодарю /тебя/, князь, но есть что-то в этом проклятом месте). Some uncanny premonition keeps me wakeful when, after a long day’s ride (какое-то зловещее предчувствие сохраняет меня бодрствующим =
nothing [ˈnʌƟɪŋ], thank [Ɵæŋk], something [sʌmƟɪŋ]
‘No, nothing,’ growled Conan. ‘I thank you, Duke, but it’s something about this accursed place. Some uncanny premonition keeps me wakeful when, after a long day’s ride, I should be as weary as a stripling after his first night’s bout of love.’
The duke’s features moved a trifle (черты /лица/ князя сдвинулись/исказились), as if he winced at Conan’s crudity — or was it merely a flicker of the firelight (как будто он поморщился от грубости Конана — или было это лишь трепет пламени костра)? In any case, he suavely replied, ‘I think I understand the misgivings of the excellent commander (в любом случае он учтиво ответил: я думаю, /что/ /я/ понимаю опасения отличного командира). Nor are such disquieting emotions unusual in this — ah — this legend-fraught valley (ни являются такие тревожные эмоции необычными =
‘A battlefield, eh?’ grunted Conan (поле битвы, да? — пробормотал Конан).
trifle [traɪfl], crudity [ˈkru: dɪtɪ], think [Ɵɪŋk]
The duke’s features moved a trifle, as if he winced at Conan’s crudity — or was it merely a flicker of the firelight? In any case, he suavely replied, I think I understand the misgivings of the excellent commander. Nor are such disquieting emotions unusual in this — ah — this legend-fraught valley. Many men have perished here.’
‘A battlefield, eh?’ grunted Conan.
The duke’s narrow shoulders twitched beneath the green cloak (узкие плечи князя дернулись под зеленым плащом). ‘Nay, nothing like that, my heroic Western friend (нет, ничего подобного /этому/, мой героический западный друг). This spot lies near the tomb of an ancient king of my people: King Hsia of Kusan (это место лежит =
true [tru: ], believe [bɪˈli: v], that [ðæt]
The duke’s narrow shoulders twitched beneath the green cloak. ‘Nay, nothing like that, my heroic Western friend. This spot lies near the tomb of an ancient king of my people: King Hsia of Kusan. He caused his entire royal guard to be beheaded and their heads buried with him, that their spirits should continue to serve him in the next world. The common superstition, however, avers that the ghosts of these guardsmen march in review, up and down this valley.’ The soft voice dropped even lower.
‘Legend also states that a magnificent treasure of gold and precious jewels was buried with him; and this tale I believe to be true.’
Conan pricked up his ears (Конан навострил /свои/ уши;
The Khitan surveyed Conan for a moment with an oblique, contemplative gaze (кхитаец рассматривал Конана /на протяжении/ минуты боковым/искоса задумчивым, пристальным: «созерцательным» взглядом;
‘No, Lord Conan; for the precise location of the trove is not known — save to one man (нет, господин Конан, так как точное местоположение клада неизвестно /никому/ — кроме одного человека).’
Conan’s interest was quite visible now (интерес Конана был совершенно очевиден теперь). ‘To whom?’ he demanded bluntly (кому? — он спросил прямо).
treasure [ˈtreʒə], private [ˈpraɪvɪt], decision [dɪˈsɪʒn]
Conan pricked up his ears. ‘Gold and gems, eh? Has it ever been found, this treasure?’
The Khitan surveyed Conan for a moment with an oblique, contemplative gaze. Then, as if having reached some private decision, he replied, ‘No, Lord Conan; for the precise location of the trove is not known — save to one man.’
Conan’s interest was quite visible now. ‘To whom?’ he demanded bluntly.